Al Murray is a man of many guises. At 43, he has long been on the comedy circuit portraying characters as grotesque as a life-sized baby and as offensive as a gay Nazi officer.

Murray first caught attention for his interesting taste of satire whilst in the Oxford Revue, a comedy group similar to the Cambridge Footlights. So similar, he explains, “that people would go ‘are you in the footlights?’ No, I’m not in the bloody footlights. We used to get really frustrated about that.”

In Cambridge, Murray is touring in character as an old favourite: the pub landlord, or the “guvnor”, a white working class British landlord who is personal, brusque, and so sure of himself that he cuts quite a confrontational figure. Murray explains that what he finds really funny about him is his “certainty”.

But what is funny to some can be offensive to others. His jokes parody a range of stereotypes that many commentators have argued act to reinforce, rather than satirise, his characters. Murray is not concerned: “I honestly don’t care.” He tells us that people will always take certain things away from an act: “You can’t control this. You can only try to make sure your artistic conscience is clear.”

Sparking controversy while eliciting laughs is part of everyday life for many comedians, and Murray highlighted the recent case of Ricky Gervais, who has faced furore for his use of the word “mong” on Twitter, a word that has often been used abusively to describe the disabled. Murray notes that Gervais has “tried to take back control with his use of that word. Good luck to him with that. His problem is he’s said it now.”

While all this attention is focused on the power comedy has to offend, aren’t we really asking ourselves what role should comedy play in society? Murray is clear when he tells us: “Comedy can do everything. It’s escapism, it’s protest, it’s mischief, and it’s none of these things.” But Murray insists his comedy is not a form of protest. He says: “It is purely about humour. If you believe a word a comedian says you’ve got a problem.”

He does agree, however, that comedians have similarities with politicians, noting with a smile that as “performers you have to stick to a line, tell a story. The difference is we have no responsibility.”

Murray has fun onstage. He delivers clear and concise punch lines, drawing laughs from diverse audiences. Asked about reports that comedians are prone to mental illness - take for example the 2010 suicide attempt by US comedian Artie Lange- Murray answers in a jokey manner: “It’s seen as a big problem in comedy. John Cleese wrote a book about how mad he was... a couple of comedians committed suicide. That’s three people! The stand- ups I know are a broader cross-section of different kinds of people than anyone else; family men, shaggers, political people, apolitical people... the one thing we’ve got in common is we like showing off.”

And so to showing off, does Al not get nervous before performing? He answers: “No, can’t afford to.” He compares the process of going on stage as a ritual, much like a religious ceremony, mentioning that the “armour” of a character helps: “I don’t know what I’d do if I had to go on stage as me...I don’t know what kind of joke I could sell sincerely.” Despite the comfort of his characters, Al has often ventured into more serious work, such as the BBC4 documentary Al Murray’s German Adventure, so where will he be going now? He answers with pas- sion: “I really love doing stand-up. And to me it’s an end in itself. I’ll stop doing it when it’s not interesting anymore, but to me it’s still fascinating.”