From go to woe, Utopia is deliciously funny, which is no small ask.

To get a sense of how much the series has accomplished, just think about the dense territory it has so nimbly traversed: illustrating why some fabulous-sounding schemes – the northern fruit bowl, eco-friendly urban developments, fast trains – don't get off the ground; taking us inside the grinding mechanics of bureaucracy; depicting the nature of modern office life in all its absurdity; exposing how language can be used to mask an embarrassing lack of action, and how it can be deployed to disguise activities that are essentially dubious.

Utopia is about how things get clogged up and bogged down at a myriad of levels, from significant matters, like highway upgrades, to smaller ones, like inter-office communications. On the face of it, these might not necessarily appear to be the stuff from which great TV comedy is made. For starters, the idea of things not happening is not especially visual. And the operations of government and bureaucracy don't immediately seem to be sexy subjects. One could also be forgiven for assuming that there's little comic juice to be extracted from the idea of a container terminal that doesn't get built.

But that would be to underestimate the inventiveness and acuity of Working Dog, a production company that has created a custom-tailored line in examining and lampooning a variety of processes, and doing so in a deadpan style that is also hilarious. This gift for the forensic analysis and satirical depiction of warped priorities has previously been evident in Frontline and The Hollowmen with their memorable accounts of the operations of the media, government and the public service.

Utopia now completes an estimable trilogy that has expertly mined its comedy from the absurdities of modern working life. As well as the big-ticket items such as the construction of highways and stadiums, this series has applied the satirical blowtorch to everything from performance reviews and professional development programs to synchronised diaries and gluten-free muffins. And it's been so spot-on in its observations about the nature of white-collar working life that some have taken to referring to it as a documentary.