From the Oasthouse, Alan Partridge podcast review: 25 minutes of pure Partridge pleasure

Knowing me, podding you. Comedian Steve Coogan’s evergreen character has made a surprise comeback with From the Oasthouse: The Alan Partridge Podcast (Audible) and it’s a lockdown treat for your lucky lugholes. “Kiss my face”, “Back of the net”, “A-ha!” and other such expressions of jubilation.

A full 18-part series launches on September 3 (or “Septemble” as the flustered Alan calls it here) but a free sample episode has arrived on the spoken-word service Audible for one week only. It stealthily appeared on Friday morning and will vanish again at midnight on Friday, June 12. Don’t miss out because it’s 25 minutes of sheer Partridge pleasure.

Our host reassures listeners at the start that “the latest science shows that Covid-19 cannot be transmitted via earphones or smart speakers”. Which is fortunate because he promptly emits a small but perfectly timed cough.

Coogan hasn’t had a great lockdown, being panned for furloughing not only his domestic staff but also employees at production company Baby Cow. Happily, his fictional alter ego is on top form. From the Oasthouse represents a return to Alan’s audio roots. The Bafta-winning creation made his debut nearly 30 years ago as a sports reporter on Radio 4 news spoof On the Hour. Now he has come full circle. Jacka-nacka-nory indeed.

The self-styled “broadcaster, writer and philosopher” has produced this series from his Norfolk shed. Sorry, his “podcast innovation studio”. It promises to showcase “a wiser, more reflective Alan” with “a maturity and insight that will be instantly recognisable to his fans, even if it’s not yet acknowledged by some of his more storied peers”.

"All national treasures have a podcast,” he adds. "If David Dimbleby has one, then of course I needed to make one.” It sees him “open a portal into my mind, from wit to wisdom, from musings to moanings”. If his travel book Nomad was a “Partridge pilgrimage, a Patrimage, a Pilgrimartridge or even a Partrimilgrimage”, presumably this is a Podridge partcast. Try saying that after a few pints of bitter shandy.

This episode sees him “rambling while rambling”. As Alan breathlessly tells us, buffeted by the wind, this al fresco recording is partly so he can share his love of the countryside in real-time and partly because a chap from Rentokil is fumigating his house.

While he chunters away, it’s hypnotic and soon spirals into hysteria. He extols the virtues of Gore-Tex outerwear and “fat socks”. He regales some poor passers-by with a self-penned poem called Autumn Leaves. He talks us through the snacks he’s brought along (cheese triangle and a Tracker bar, in case you’re interested). He moos at cows and apologises when he “trumps”.

In an echo of his famed Monkey Tennis scene, our hero comes up with half-baked pitches for Hollywood films. These include “Gethsemane with Liam Neeson, rosary beads in one hand and a Glock 9 composite compact firearm in the other”. The next stars Bruce Willis as an all-action architect.

One masterly sequence sees Alan peering through a cottage’s windows and wildly speculating, Through The Keyhole-style, about who might live there. Naturally, the resident promptly catches him in the act. “I’m not a Peeping Tom,” he insists. “I’m just a peeping… man.”

There are flashes of his usual pettiness, with potshots at Lycra-clad cyclists, annoying neighbours, his ex-wife, Bear Grylls, Jilly Cooper and “the pond life who criticise me online”. He even calls a passing dog-walker a “dick”, which doesn’t seem in the spirit of the country code.

All good rambles must come to an end. Eventually Alan’s “had enough nature and it’s starting to get on my nerves”, so he phones long-suffering PA Lynne to come and pick him up. Cue hilariously detailed driving instructions. When he gets home, he’s going to make himself a big beefburger and watch Thunderball. Let's hope nobody has taped over it with America's Strongest Man.

There are no credits on this episode but presumably it was co-created by Coogan’s regular recent collaborators, brothers Neil and Rob Gibbons. The script is lovingly written, packed with murmured asides and divine throwaway details.

It’s performed by Coogan as a virtuoso one-man show. Like Little Britain’s Dennis Waterman, he writes the theme tune and sings the theme tune - a sort of generic rural folky fiddle. Coogan’s readings of previous Partridge audiobooks are a joy and this podcast has a similar feel, with his delivery adding an extra layer of laughs.

With trademark subtlety, Alan boasts that these podcasts “have been described as very good/sensational”. On this evidence, they’re certainly the former.

From the Oasthouse: The Alan Partridge Podcast is available to pre-order now at www.audible.co.uk/partridge. A free episode is available via the Amazon Alexa