Gillian Reynolds

John Lloyd, once a BBC Light Entertainment producer (Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, e.g.), now, after glittering adventures in TV and film, a don of the comedy world, returns with a new series of a recent invention. He and comedian Jon Richardson are pretend curators of an imaginary museum to which visiting celebrities tender possible new acquisitions. Tonight author Terry Pratchett brings a secret extra day of the week, cosmologist Marcus Chown has a plausible scientific theory of the afterlife and comedian Shappi Khorsandi offers Charlie Chaplin.

When the Dog Dies (Radio 4, Friday) is a situation comedy by Ian Davidson and Peter Vincent with Ronnie Corbett for whom, long ago, they wrote the TV sitcom Sorry! This is an old fashioned series, with characters like cartoons and situations like comic postcards. It is also funny because, as with the best cartoons and postcards, it is recognisably lifelike and (again with Liz Anstee directing) very neatly set out. It's good to have heard the ring of confident production so often this week.

Radio 4 listeners have been hearing trailers for this show for days so they may well think, when they settle to the whole thing, that they've already heard the best bits. Jon Culshaw opens the very case that contained old tapes and acetate recordings of Morecambe and Wise's early broadcasts form the 1950s. Ernie's widow, Doreen, found them in their garage and took them to independent producer David Prest who, with Stewart Henderson, crafted them into this essay on the development of the duo's comic style from variety act to TV stardom.

Ronnie Corbett plays Sandy Hopper in this new comedy by Ian Davidson and Peter Vincent. He's 65, a widower, living on in the old family home with his ancient dog Henry. His son and daughter (both married disastrously, according to Sandy) can't wait for him to move so that they can sell the house and divide the spoils. He won't, though. Not until the dog dies, he says. Sally Grace plays (charmingly) his nosy but nice neighbour. Liza Tarbuck (wittily) plays Dolores, his sexy but practical lodger. Jonathan Aris does an impressively monstrous son-in-law.

A Cinema Near You, Radio 4, review

Gillian Reynolds reviews Radio 4's comedy pilot A Cinema Near You, starring Mathew Horne and Caroline Quentin, plus the rest of the week's radio.

Mathew Horne (of Gavin & Stacey TV fame) plays Alex, a struggling young cinema manager in this new comedy by Simon (Men Behaving Badly) Nye. Here's the situation: Alex has to promote a forthcoming attraction, an arty Swedish film. But no one's interested, not even Mrs Duke (Caroline Quentin), the cinema's rambly, elderly owner, or neighbouring café boss Jane (Mel Hudson), who fancies him. Here's a tip: look at the cast. Consider author's other work (translations of Molière and Dario Fo, films, TV, scholarly studies of painters, awards). This one (produced by Jane Berthoud and Simon Mayhew-Archer) may go far.

As the old song says, what a difference a day makes. On Wednesday night The Vote Now Show (Radio 4) did a sketch about the three party leaders answering questions but, as their team of talented mimics couldn't do Nick Clegg, his answers were delivered in the voice and style of Frankie Howerd, complete with "ooh er missus" expostulations. On Thursday night the actual party leaders' debate was broadcast. I doubt The Vote Now Show will be resorting to Frankie's voice again soon. Their problem of how to deliver a vocally recognisable Nick Clegg remains. If you listened to him on the real debate (Radio 4, Thursday) his voice had a sort of closed throat, reedy sound, a bit like John Major's but posher. If Brown was a bassoon and Cameron a flute, Clegg was a clarinet. A slightly angry clarinet too, one playing more tunes from the Ukip songbook than the classic Grimond-Steel-Kennedy album. But that was on radio, where a fresh face, a yellow tie and an easy relationship with the camera count for nought and what we're used to is proper address to issues.

Substance was already a problem for The Vote Now Show last week. Months ago, it must have seemed a good idea to do a late night election comedy show three times a week, scripted on the day, recorded a few hours before transmission, performed with an audience. The general lack of anything much to make fun of last Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday nights was, however, apparent. I admit to falling asleep while washing the dishes to it on the first night, waking up to cold suds and studio laughter. Maybe this week will be hotter.

Joe (Conrad Nelson) is a mouthy Scouse, living in posh Highgate. His six-year-old daughter Megan (Lauren Mote) urges him to do what Mum says and be nicer to the neighbours. So he tries. But, oh dear, Megan goes out to play and chalks a great big picture on the pavement. Joe says it's like Guernica. The neighbour whose house it's in front of doesn't see it that way, refers it upward to the man who's in charge of the residents' association. Out of Megan's chalky drawing rise great clouds of paranoia. Jeff Young's comedy grinds a sparky social axe.

New nightly satirical round-up of election news from The Now Show's acerbic team, led as ever by Steve Punt and Hugh Dennis. How times change. Ther''ve been almighty ructions in the past about the BBC allowing topical comedy shows onto the airwaves during an election campaign. Now Radio 4 has this (Mondays through Wednesday nights), plus two weekly editions of What the Papers Say (Sundays and Wednesdays) while The News Quiz starts another series on Friday. But in the grim convergences of this campaign will there be enough for them all to make fun of?

At the end of Saturday's Fighting Talk on Radio 5 Live, a wonderfully quizzical sports knowledge contest (back on my listening menu as long as Adam and Joe are away from 6 Music), there was a challenge to contestants to name great Finns. Martin Bayfield picked a Finnish strong man, Gideon Coe ingeniously chose Finn McCool, the legendary Irish hero who built the Giant's Causeway. He also, said Coe, acquired the wisdom of the salmon by sucking a bit of salmon skin from his burnt thumb. At this point they fell to discussing what the wisdom of the salmon might be, exactly the kind of thing that keeps me listening.