Miranda is the Joyce Grenfell of the Twitter generation. Her sitcom commands four million viewers per episode because, as Jennifer Saunders puts it, 'she has funny bones'. The new guard of comedians, like Peep Show's Sophie Winkleman, also adore her: 'To be that cosy, that conventional, that brazenly middle-class,' says Sophie, 'is actually very edgy and brave.'
Incomparably arch, she can wring a laugh out of 'Hello red-button viewers and thank you for pressing'; like a classic clown, she is physically collapsible, able to auto-eject from a bar stool in the blink of an eye. She writes her own material, sending herself up as a shambolic thirty-something singleton who suffers, as in an anxiety dream, all the humiliations known to womankind: first-date farts, wrap dresses that spontaneously unwrap, and mothers who advertise one's singledom with a loud-hailer.