Sometimes when the marketing noise gets too loud, it's hard to see the television show for the headlines. And sometimes, when the star of the show is making more noise than the show itself, it's hard to get a grip on what you're watching and what you're hearing.

In Roseanne (Ten, from April 31) you get it all, both barrels, both ears and in surround sound. The original show, a comedy for the liberal underclass, has been reborn as a modern conservative comedy for the deplorable but defiant, its central character, once an open-minded working class wife and mother, now reborn as a Trump-voting voice for the forgotten.

At the heart of Roseanne is a strange conflation of actress and character, where many of these newly acquired character traits in the television Roseanne Conner are borrowed from her real-life counterpart Roseanne Barr. The network is asking you to keep the two separate, but liberal commentators are saying you can't. Finding focus with all that noise is tough.

So, let's drill down to the centre of the piece. This is a good reboot, maybe even a great reboot. It tells a few convenient fibs in both story (Dan didn't really die) and tone (the original series was far more liberal) to get away with its "Rosie voted Trump" launch footing, but politics aside, those narrative cheats are forgivable.

Whatever you think of Barr as a conservative voter, she's a bloody great comedian, and in Roseanne – the original series – she created a working class comedy masterpiece which is the equal of only a handful of shows in TV history. All In the Family is surely one. Maude might be another. As a comedy? It was brilliant. As a female-led comedy? Genuinely stunning.