Christopher Douglas

In this sixth series Ed has fallen so far as to be living in sheltered housing, courtesy of a charity for the financially distressed, having forsaken what he describes as "the life of unmitigated misery, disappointment, abuse and sheer grinding poverty" that is hack writing. Meanwhile, his arch rival Jas Milvain is having the last ever South Bank Show devoted to him, for which resentful Ed will be interviewed as the "grit in the oyster". It's hard to enthuse about this series without sounding like one of those people who bang on about Gavin and Stacey until you are absolutely determined never to watch it, but suffice to say the writing is at the highest end of radio comedy. Christopher Douglas is perfectly incarnated as his creation and Barunka O'Shaughnessy brilliant as Ping, the sloaney assistant. The allusions to George Gissing's 1891 novel New Grub Street, with its tragic writer hero Edwin Reardon, and ambitious cynic, Jasper Milvain, reassures hack writers everywhere that things never really change. And at a time of relentless change, a bit of permanence has to be a good thing.

"I have no intention of resuming the life of unmitigated misery, disappointment, abuse and sheer grinding poverty that my so-called career as a writer had become," rails Ed Reardon, the nation's favourite author. His dippy agent Ping has tracked Ed (the comic creation of Christopher Douglas and Andrew Nickolds) to the sheltered housing that he's retired to, prematurely. Of course, he does return to the life of unmitigated misery as a writer and along the way come killer lines, primarily from Ed. Here, for example, is his take on Paris Hilton: "I'm well aware who she is. I've written in the voice of her chihuahas - both of them, two entirely different characters I might add." Ah, Ed is back, and this time he smells of carbolic, as well as bitter disappointment.

Dave Podmore is a fictional former cricketer who scrapes a shameless living in the scrubland between sport and showbiz. There are serious cricket scribes who don't find him funny. I simply adore him. The creation of Christopher Douglas and Andrew Nickolds (who also gave birth to that peerless paradigm of the modern man of letters, Ed Reardon), his adventures mirror life closely enough for laughter, sharply enough to register. Here's how he narrowly missed out to real life former cricketer Phil Tufnell in getting onto Strictly Come Dancing.

Beauty of Britain (Mondays, Radio 4, 11.30am) should be a winner. It's written by the actress Nicola Sanderson and the mighty Christopher Douglas, who has helped to give British radio two of its funniest and most finely observed comic creations, Dave Podmore and Ed Reardon. The premise, about a black African and her experience as a carer to various horrible English people, is ripe for satire. And black Africans are under-represented on our radio. We get more Eastern Europeans with accents of no fixed abode than we do Africans.

And yet... look, the problem with Beauty of Britain is what I would call the "Hau, medem you are too kand" factor. When I was growing up in apartheid South Africa, black characters were all over radio drama, usually portrayed by white actors. If they were men they tended to be gardeners, odd-job men and general layabouts. If they were women they tended to be servants. And what they did was prop up the household while the lady of the house got herself into frightful scrapes due to her inability to boil a kettle, with hilarious results. The servant would solve the problem, repair the damage done to the kitchen ceiling, make the dinner and knock off around midnight, with her mistress's thanks ringing in her ears, to which her response would be: "Hau medem you are too kand." Cue closing credit music and the cast list: "The part of Sunshine [no last name - black servants had no last name] was played by Sonja Whitechick" or whoever.

As a white South African I can still do a passable "Hau medem" accent - although mine is more a "Hau master" - but I don't, because it comes with so much baggage. To an English person it may be exotic and, yes, humorous, but to me it's a stereotype.

Douglas and Sanderson's heroine is called Beauty Olonga. She does get a surname - after all, times have moved on - but she also has one of those annoying first names that, once again, carry me back to the days when my mother would go to the butchers to buy "servant's meat" for the help. It's the same with Alexander McCall Smith's Precious Ramotswe (who also has a "Hau medem" accent, even though she's from Botswana and Olonga is from Nigeria). Where is it written that black African women must be saddled with abstract nouns and adjectives for first names to be "authentic"? Even if her name does prop up the title.

But then, what is Jocelyn Jee Esien, who plays Olonga, to do? If "Hau medem" does the trick and doesn't offend anyone other than guilt-ridden expats, then who is she hurting? And at least her accent never falters. So enough of the bleating. Let's have some unleavened praise. For starters, the cricket-loving Douglas has given his heroine the surname of a particularly brave cricketer, Henry Olonga, the Zimbabwean who went into exile for his opposition to the rule of Robert Mugabe (and who himself speaks in an accent as far removed from "Hau master" as it is possible to be). And she is a hero too, with her determination to better herself in a country that wants to pigeonhole her as a servant to various pervy old men whose families are too busy or too uncaring to look after them.

This greater message is shot through with sidelong observations - old people subsist on cauliflower cheese; you can pick up great designer bargains in charity shops. And if anyone can realise her dream to start up a chain of boutique self-help clinics it'll be Beauty Olonga. And there's no "Hau medem" in that.

Three cheers for cricket's best team, Christopher Douglas and Andrew Nickolds, with an eve of Ashes adventure of their superb creation Dave Podmore, once an England player, later entrepreneur and after-dinner speaker now a corner shop owner, plus dogged companion Andy Hamer. This made me laugh so often and explosively while I was listening to the preview disc that a neighbour looked in to see if I was OK. It isn't just cricket that comes under their fiendishly funny scrutiny. Radio, TV, social fads and fading commentators are all there too.

As part of their Grey Expectations season, BBC4 gave an hour of airtime over to Nicholas Craig, the greatest luvvie of his generation, to present an acting masterclass on How to Be Old.

Topics covered included keeling over, speaking in "auldshire", bronchial coughing, creating a doddery walk and dealing with rowdy juveniles, all illustrated by an excellent array of TV drama archive clips.

In between exploring career options for the third-age thesp, Craig rails against such diverse personal and professional bugbears as Strictly Come Dancing, whingeing actresses, having to wear one's own clothes in Casualty and his youthful assistant producers, Lucy and Octavia: "I've slow-roasted joints of pork longer than she's been in the business!"

Craig is a brilliant creation, beautifully scripted by Christopher Douglas and played to perfection by Nigel Planer. Despite this, the subject matter for this particular outing was a little too thin to support an hour and there were occasional tell-tale signs of padding.

But this is a little churlish, given the many moments of pure delight, such as Craig's explanation of how the Spotlight Directories work: "Spotty is divided into sections. There's Young, where you'll find all the middle-aged actors. Leading, for older actors. And Character, for very old, ugly actors."

This is a hilarious spoof 'acting masterclass' starring Nigel Planer (Neil in The Young Ones) as the titular, delusional aging thesp. Fresh from his triumph as 'Ebeneezer Tumblewhiskers' in a BBC costume drama - for which he won a BUPA Award - Craig advises actors of "the third age" in the key skills required to play elderly characters, including the development of just the right viscosity of hacking cough, how to handle a walking stick and perfecting your doddering stagger. Intercut with a clips from actual TV dramas that showcase the astonishing levels of ham used to denote age on screen, this provides an insightful satirical comment on TV portrayals of older people as well as some brilliant jokes. Written and directed by Christopher Douglas, creator of the equally superb Ed Reardon's Week on R4 and cricket jobsworth Dave Podmore.

Dawn French was let down by dated material in Mastering The Universe, by Christopher Douglas and Nick Newman, a retread of domestic sex wars which might have found a home with Terry and June.

First Listen: Ed Reardon's Week (Series 5)

An absolute gem of a sitcom, with an absolute gem of a sitcom character. In Ed Reardon's Week, writers Christopher Douglas (who plays Ed) and Andrew Nickolds have created a perfect character for a Radio 4 sitcom.

Maybe I was once married to Ed Reardon. I know him so well. He grumbles (accurately but ineffectively), grinds out the words (but without much reward), is always broke (and always will be). But, my word, he is funny. And true. Especially now the more successful Mary (Sally Grace) has entered his life, buoying him up, buying the drinks, at war with his cat. I have been half in love with easeful Ed, creation of Christopher Douglas (who also plays him) and Andrew Nickolds, since he first appeared. Now he's back, Radio 4's a cheerier place.