Money, fame and public recognition - three things you're not going to find doing radio comedy. What you are going to find is a medium where a writer is limited only by their imagination. Unlike TV, no one's going to tell you that you can't do a sketch about a five-headed alien riding through central London on a horse because the budget won't stretch that far. On radio, all you have to do is bang a couple of coconuts together, shout "which way to the London Eye?" in a silly voice and the listener is none the wiser that you're not an alien but in fact an actor in a studio somewhere, clutching a coffee.
As the TV actress cast as the "funny but chubby best friend", on radio I get to play the size zero femme fatale despite not having the waistline or cheekbones for the role. Likewise, the size zero actor can play the old crone without having to spend days in prosthetics. Of course, the real bonus is you don't have to learn your lines. You just show up and do a bit of reading out loud for a day. Radio is instant gratification for acting junkies, a sort of heroin to actors trapped TV typecasting hell.
What makes live audience radio sitcom truly addictive is the sense of tradition you get when you stand in front of the audience with a BBC microphone knowing that people such as Kenneth Williams, June Whitfield and Steve Coogan have stood there too. Or when you're doing a location sitcom in a bathroom in Walthamstow trying to get the acoustics of a Russian submarine. You're squashed in a shower unit with "him off the telly" mucking about like you did when you pushed play and record on your Casio tape deck aged 10.
As a writer, radio sharpens your penmanship. You can't rely on the actor raising a quizzical eyebrow - or indeed swearing to get a laugh at the end of a scene. On Green Wing, Mark Heap gets laughs for his unique physical performance and the words we wrote were sometimes merely a bonus joke. With Meanwhile for Radio 4, Mark Addy has to use his voice to create a physical character in the listener's mind's eye and we have to write actual punch lines. Needless to say, Mr Addy can make you instantly visualise his character every time he utters a line.
Radio listeners also benefit from not being glued to the TV screen. You can do some housework, boil an egg or fall off a pilates ball without missing a crucial moment. It's a medium for the multi-taskers out there. And you get to decide on what your leading man looks like. In my case it would be Richard Armitage meets Bruce Willis with a bit of Walter Matthau thrown in for good measure - but I'm probably alone in that.
Radio's a great challenge for listeners, actors and writers. That's why you'll find anyone who's anyone queuing round the block to do it.
