Adrian Edmondson on family, fatherhood and break-up with late comedy legend Rik Mayall

He broke all the rules at school, but now understands he'd been chasing adrenaline as a substitute for affection.

Adrian Edmondson: 'Rik Mayall and I were in love with each other'

Adrian Edmondson told The Big Issue he wishes he and Rik Mayall had been more open with each other about their emotional closeness.

Ade Edmondson: 'Rik Mayall's death was a shock to the world, and me'

In an extract from his new memoir the star reveals how fame complicated his relationship with his comedy partner.

Adrian Edmondson takes over the Out To Lunch podcast

Adrian Edmondson is taking over the hit Out To Lunch podcast from Jay Rayner.

Adrian Edmondson: 'I've won more prizes for vegetables than I have for comedy'

The Young Ones star on butting brick walls, the real reason he took a role in Star Wars and how he and his wife, Jennifer Saunders, split the gardening.

What happened when Caitlin Moran met her idol, Ade Edmondson

Growing up, Caitlin Moran could recite whole scripts by the comic actor Adrian Edmondson. Now the star of The Young Ones and Bottom has written a brilliant new memoir about his traumatic childhood.

Adrian Edmondson on meeting Rik Mayall

Adrian Edmondson reveals how his Young Ones co-star fell in love with fame.

Adrian Edmondson relives the sadistic school beatings that still haunt him

In an instalment of his blistering autobiography, Adrian Edmondson asks whether his violent childhood inspired his and Rik's brand of anarchic humour.

Leave it to dialogue by Cash Carraway, creator and writer of BBC One's eight-part, soot-black dramedy Rain Dogs, to best describe her lead character: deadpan, defiant single mother Costello, played with lairy elan by Daisy May Cooper (Am I Being Unreasonable?). As stated by Adrian Edmondson's Lenny, a wheezing, ruined Lucian Freud-esque artist: "The problem is, you don't know your place. But that's the best thing about you."

Similarly, Rain Dogs (based on Carraway's visceral memoir, Skint Estate, and already on HBO in the US), refuses to play out as an anguished, one-dimensional treatise on class and poverty for audiences to sigh and weep over. After Costello and her daughter, Iris (a nuanced performance from newcomer Fleur Tashjian), are evicted from their flat, the aspiring writer and alcoholic (barely three months sober) scrabbles for work at a peep show, wrangles a room from a stranger by modelling a "nightie" (he says she has a "food bank body... lots of carbs"), breaks into a car, and more. And that's just in the opener.

Accompanying her on this odyssey to dysfunctional welfare-Oz are "proud pervert" Lenny (he paints her vagina and masturbates as she cleans his flat) and ditzy, spirited Gloria (Ronke Adékoluẹjo). Then there's putative father figure to Iris and Costello's main trauma-bonded foil, "classical homosexual" Selby (Jack Farthing), a drug-addled, rehab-resistant Withnail who's insulated by family wealth. As the episodes unfold, Costello and Iris end up skidding and reeling through various scenarios (entering a women's refuge; cos-playing yummy mummydom; socially cleansed from London). This, you feel Rain Dogs is saying, is the fever dream of modern poverty: humiliating, exhausting, random.

There are missteps. What should be a deep dive into Costello's dark family history is kept blankly surface-level. As brilliant and merciless as Rain Dogs is at skewering poverty voyeurism ("I will not be your liberal victim of the week"), the same point is endlessly replayed until it loses its bite. Still, what a bold, wild-hearted ride, and what a fiercely original performer Cooper is shaping up to be.