Just time to revise my view on Radio 4's Chain Reaction. This week's interview with Eddie Izzard by Frank Skinner was excellent: funny and revealing. You forget that Skinner used to have a chat show. Though I'm not saying it should be brought back, mind.

And a few other notes, both low and high: why no women on Chain Reaction (R4), where public figures (usually comedians) get to interview other public figures (usually comedians)? Yes, we've had Catherine Tate and Arabella Weir, but we're six series in now. This week's programme, the first in the new batch, began with Robert Llewellyn interviewing Dave Gorman. Gorman was far too pleased with himself; but then, that's the nature of this self-congratulatory series. You may as well call it Blowing Smoke.

And now, how about a couple of laughs? This week The National Theatre of Brent returned to Radio 4 and Jason Byrne has come back to Radio 2. Brent has always been silly stuff, with the laughs mostly lying in the pompous incompetence of Desmond Olivier Dingle and his sidekick/entire theatre company, Raymond. This short series is called "Iconic Icons" - this week's was Bob Dylan - and the Brent duo were, as ever, gently amusing rather than laugh-out-loud. But none the worse for that.

Jason Byrne has the honour of providing half of the official comedy on 2 at the moment - Vic Reeves's panel show Does the Team Think? makes up the other 50% - though regular presenters Mark Radcliffe, Jonathan Ross and Alan Carr can all make you splutter into your cuppa. Byrne, though, is different: his show is proper stand-up, complete with audience interaction. There are a couple of silly sketches but the bulk of his half-hour is like being in a decent comedy club with a much-more-than-decent comedian. The lines are sharp but it's the atmosphere and delivery that make the show. This week's topic was food. Byrne asked if anyone had ever eaten something they shouldn't. "A tick!" came the bizarre answer. "You mean the insect?" asked Byrne. "Or maybe you stopped talking and meant to say 'tac' after that." Ace.

Is bringing back I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue post-Humph a good idea? ISIHAC is my answer: the show has never held the place in my heart that it has in others'. Still, its return on Monday seemed fine enough, not particularly because of Stephen Fry, the host (Jack Dee and Rob Brydon are to step in later), but because of Victoria Wood. She is so clever with words - "Dictaphone: person on a mobile," she quipped - and so generous as a performer, arguing when she needed to, hanging back likewise. I hope she returns.

And I should mention Mark Steel's In Town, in which the comedian visits small towns across the UK and tailor-makes a stand-up routine for the locals. Last week was Boston, which bore Steel's mickey-taking about its lack of hills with amusement. A simple idea, kindly and wittily executed by another unfashionably humane Englishman. Thank Gaia they still exist.

Danny Robins Music Therapy is a new Radio 4 series in which our host combines music and jokes to help solve people's difficulties; 'Like Top of the Pops meets Trisha,' trilled the jingle. Last week, Danny came to the aid of those most loathed of citizens, traffic wardens. Though some gags were lame - having James Blunt as your punch line is like having your mother-in-law as a set-up - I enjoyed his interviews with real wardens. 'My music taste is pretty eclectic,' said one. 'Duran Duran, Gary Numan...'

So, Danny and his friends constructed a rap that included a sample of Numan's 'Cars'. Oh, and (groan) MC Hammer. The rap went on too long. Later in the show, listeners' problems were considered. 'My cat doesn't love me,' informed one, which provoked the great line: 'The very fact that she's got a cat suggests that she fears love anyway.' This is a hit-and-miss show for the moment. It needs more mad gags per minute, à la Milton Jones.

I have a soft spot for Milton Jones. His show is so silly, so warm and daft. Like Count Arthur Strong, Radio 4's best comedy series, Another Case of Milton Jones is miles from the clever-clever satire that Radio 4 is known for. It is its own surreal world, one through which Milton bumbles, spouting groan-aloud puns, irritating all around him while trying to do his best.

He's immensely quotable, chucking out one-liners like bread for the birds: a high-speed Jimmy Carr without the cruelty. 'I've heard great things about your spring collection,' he said last week (he was being a fashion photographer). 'When exactly did you start collecting springs?' Yes, I know - awful - but a funny image. The lines come so thick and fast that you crumble eventually. Actually, you find yourself trying to predict the punch line. Easy enough if the set-up is: 'After the show, I went for an Italian...' ('Well, he was just annoying me, sitting there looking so stylish.')

But only a strange and brilliant comic mind could come up with: 'It's difficult to know if you remember something or you remember the photograph of something. One of my earliest memories is of being in America, standing over an air vent and my skirt billowing right up.'

Though The News Quiz is one of Radio 4's most loved programmes, it's hard for me to write about. It goes out on a Friday night, after my column deadline, and - obviously - it's topical. I can only review the previous show, in this case the first in the new series, which discussed the Labour party conference, the EDF energy company and Sarah Palin. See: they're so last week! (Apart from Sarah Palin.)

The other block to me reviewing The News Quiz is, well, me. Though I am a Radio 4 devotee, its panel shows drive me mad. They're so cosy! The combination of laugh-at-anything audience and aren't-I-clever contestants creates a tittering dinner party atmosphere that makes me yearn for Jerry Sadowitz or Keith Allen or Joan Rivers. In short, I want anger.

Still, there's enough of that in today's Britain, eh? And anyway, The News Quiz has Jeremy Hardy, whose anger is there, just clothed in exquisite one-liners, and he usually keeps me listening. Hardy has a gentle bedside manner which hides his vicious shanking of the pompous establishment. Last Friday he managed to stick it to middle-class parents, banks, the government and Barack Obama within the first 10 minutes. 'Obama said that the collapse of the banks is no time for politics. No, Christmas dinner is no time for politics.' But the bit I really liked was when he had a pop at Sue Perkins over her appearance on Maestro. What that says about me, I hate to think.

Ah Count Arthur Strong. I can't quite believe that I've gone so long without mentioning the funniest man on Radio 4 (not an enormous compliment, but still). Us critics like to be critical, you see, and Count Arthur Strong's Radio Show! provides little to moan about. It is R4's best sitcom by several miles.

First, Count Arthur, faded actor, is a convincingly complete character. Comedian Steve Delaney has honed him through umpteen live performances: he knows Count Arthur inside out. This means the Count can be dropped into any situation and he'll react consistently: bigging up his fame, getting his words wrong, searching out meat products, or booze. Plus, all the best British sitcoms feature a frustrated older man - think of Fawlty, Rigsby, Mainwaring, Meldrew - and Count Arthur is always in a tizz. And, a small point this, but often overlooked by Radio 4 execs: Count Arthur is hilarious.