Jo Caulfield

Jo Caulfield sketches out her Fringe show

Another comedian puts pen to board for The List, to draw the essence of their stand-up.

BBC Radio 2's Comedy Season launches with the return of the irreverent comedy panel show hosted by Claudia Winkleman. Comics and commentators are thrust into the silicon-filled world of glossy magazines and showbiz columns, for a unique take on the week's most "important" celebrity news. As with the people they are laughing at, there are no teams - it's everyone for themselves. Guests on the opening show are Rufus Hound, Jo Caulfield and Dom Joly.

Interview: Jo Caulfield

As she launches a new stand-up tour, Jo Caulfield chats about comedy, radio, and making six grumpy men laugh...

Radio 4 has done the dirty on Jo Caulfield, whose new series Jo Caulfield Won't Shut Up! began a few Tuesdays ago (Radio 4, 6.30pm). For the first week, everything went fine - Caulfield was able to present a series of hit-and-miss sketches about herself without frightening the horses. In fact, one skit about being confused for another 15-year-old Jo Caulfield on Facebook was a little gem. But then last week Radio 4 only went and put on the latest series of Laura Solon - Talking and Not Talking.

Yes, of course they work in different areas of comedy. Caulfield talks about herself, Solon anything but. And it's also true that any sketch show - any comedy show, with the exception of the ever-brilliant Bleak Expectations, in fact - would struggle to compete against Solon. But separating them by a mere 24 hours, now, that's cruel. And all Caulfield has to cheer herself up with is the knowledge that her show's theme tune knocks spots off Solon's piece of synthesiser whimsy that achieves the trick of being both really annoying and difficult to dislodge from the mental jukebox.

Last week Radio 4 only went and put on the latest series of Laura Solon - Talking and Not Talking on Wednesday (6.30pm). Contrast and compare? OK, then. Where Jo Caulfield and her writers - ten of them, including the star herself - do that horrible thing of telegraphing a joke so far ahead than any mirth is drained from the punch line by the time it arrives, Solon and her posse (six writers, again including the star) kept things fresh. If a situation didn't deserve a full sketch, it got a one-liner ("My mother's a cat person - she sits in front of the fire looking grumpy and washing her bum"). Favourite characters from previous series returned, such as the desperate woman who got divorced what must be ages ago now and is still "really, really fine about it", and spends her sad days thinking up pathetic ways to make money (jewellery made from human skin, for instance). And there are some new ones sure to become favourites: the 19th-century spinsters time-travelling in search of someone to marry; the deposed Eastern European tyrant who moves into English suburbia with her pet crocodiles; the wonderfully snotty French radio presenter.

Yes, of course they work in different areas of comedy. Caulfield talks about herself, Solon anything but. And it's also true that any sketch show - any comedy show, with the exception of the ever-brilliant Bleak Expectations, in fact - would struggle to compete against Solon. But separating them by a mere 24 hours, now, that's cruel. And all Caulfield has to cheer herself up with is the knowledge that her show's theme tune - the Cure's Boys Don't Cry - knocks spots off Solon's piece of synthesiser whimsy that achieves the trick of being both really annoying and difficult to dislodge from the mental jukebox.

For a simple stand-up comedy show that's extremely patchy (generally the bits with McIntyre are funny, the rest are hit and miss), this has had impressive viewing figures. Could be the pull of the impish McIntyre or just that the conveyor belt of comics rolls past so quickly, there's no time to get bored. The Roadshow is in Brighton this week, where McIntyre gleefully skips around the stage before launching into a full-throttle set of observations about the town and a spot of ad-libbing as a result of his chat with audience member Sally Gunnell. There are loads of holiday-related gags along the lines of "Why do airports have a terminal? That's not a word you want to hear when you're getting on a plane" from McIntyre and headline act Al Murray. Inspired by a physics student in the audience, the pub landlord explains why planes can't really fly - a routine that runs the gamut of aviation history from the Wright Brothers to the Battle of Britain. But best guest comic for me is Jo Caulfield whose dry take on life is wickedly funny.

The quality of the stand-up comedians in the series has been so high that it isn't a question of one being better than another - it just boils down to which one you happen to like the most. My personal favourite tonight was Jon Richardson, mocking his own nerdy appearance and funny voice. "This is not a voice that will accentuate a sexual experience," he squeaks. Jo Caulfield discusses her mates ("Every woman has a slutty friend. And if you can't think who it is, it's you"); Micky Flanagan recalls the academic shortcomings of his East End comprehensive ("No kid from this school has ever gone on to drive a van"); and Al Murray's pub landlord explains the existence of God.