Tristram Fane Saunders

Review: Rob Brydon

Rob Brydon's new stand-up show is a masterclass in light entertainment.

Stephen Fry's 25 best BAFTA jokes and quips

As Stephen Fry returns to host his 12th British Academy Film Awards, we look back at his best - and most effusive - Bafta moments.

The 10 weirdest shows at the Edinburgh Fringe

The world's largest arts festival always attracts its fare share of culturally-enriching oddness. For every run-of-the-mill stand-up show, there's also a 24-hour Czech mime disco. From a crash course in onanism to the joys of half-chewed bread, here are 10 of the strangest outings at the 2016 Fringe.

Radio Times review

Sue Limb's literary parody (sorry, "Rhapsody about Bohemians") is back for a third series. Hitler may be causing trouble in Europe, but for the self-obsessed Bloomsbury artistes life continues uninterrupted. Vita Sackcloth-Vest (Miriam Margolyes) is still hiding her steamy romance with Venus Traduces. Naturally, Venus's unexpected arrival at Sizzlinghurst leads to a sub-Wodehouse imbroglio of fake names and Marxist spies.

There's something charmingly disrespectful about Gloomsbury, particularly Alison Steadman's Ginny Fox character (a merciless send-up of Virginia Woolf). If you're misty-eyed about all things Bloomsbury, and calling DH Lawrence "Dave Lollipop" makes you smile, Gloomsbury is sure to raise a chuckle.

Radio Times review

Reader, I LOL-ed. This is brilliant. For the third and final part of Jon Canter's blisteringly funny sitcom, time-travelling biographer James Boswell (Miles Jupp) meets Harold Pinter.

Harry Enfield is spot-on as the master of comic menace. There are a couple of obvious gags ("Would The Caretaker be different without the pauses?" "It would be... shorter.") but Canter writes with originality and depth.

Bizarrely, this would make an excellent introduction to Pinter's work. It's almost -- though it pains me to say it -- edutainment. Essential listening.

Radio Times review

Families can be the toughest critics. As Can't Tell... returns for a third series, Grandma Caton is still waiting for award-winning comedian Nathan to get a proper job. This stand-up/sitcom is an odd beast. A hybrid of Seinfeld and Simon Amstell's Grandma's House, it cuts between the West Indian comic's stand-up routines and the domestic squabbles that inspire them.

It's more "endearing" than "laugh-out-loud funny", but Can't Tell... remains a refreshing counterpoint to the rest of Radio 4's comedy output: Caton wryly describes his presence on the station as "a bit like 50 Cent making an appearance on Midsomer Murders."

Radio Times review

Alex Horne's bumbling jazz jesters are back for another series, and clearly have no shortage of ideas. This week they tackle turntables, mariachi music and the humble Teasmade, combining sharp stand-up comedy with even sharper musical chops.

There's also a wonderful guest appearance from Sara Pascoe, performing a self-penned five-minute musical about her life as a vegetarian. It's far funnier than it has any right to be. A few of the sight-gags fall flat (as visual comedy does on radio), but the raucous live atmosphere makes up for any shortcomings. After all, who doesn't want humour you can hum along to?

Life just keeps getting worse for Stuart (Mathew Horne). Since being fired from his position at the job centre when the series began, Stuart has found himself adrift. His friends seem to prefer the company of Janice, a drug-addled senile alcoholic and former "human guinea-pig". Worse still, his old job has been given to Gary Probert, a socially dysfunctional light-bulb fetishist who can't cross the road without supervision. From then on, things get weirder.

Horne does a sterling job of making Stuart likeable, despite his lack of any redeeming features. If you're a fan of Clare in the Community, you might well find a new favourite in Seekers. Dark, surreal and a more than a little cartoonish, it's likely to divide listeners, but this has the makings of a sure-fire cult hit.

Dirk Maggs: "Adams told me there was more to come"

The producer and director on doing justice to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, working with Neil Gaiman, and the debt they both owe to Douglas Adams.

My Teenage Diary just keeps getting better. It's like a raunchier Desert Island Discs, and this week's diarist, Rachel Johnson, is marvellous. Her "gap yah" with brother Boris makes for essential listening, but don't expect adolescent angst.

Johnson is no Adrian Mole; her crisp, journalistic style was already perfected at the age of 18. When she does open up, the results are fascinating, whether she's worrying about her relationship with her father or just lusting after the locals while working in an Israeli valve factory ("Israeli soldiers," she informs us, "are really hunky").

Interestingly, before the broadcast Boris made Rachel promise to keep any stories about him "on brand". What we find out about the Mayor is entertaining enough but we can only imagine what those "off brand" anecdotes might be like.