I APOLOGISE in advance for any offence caused to the sisterhood by the following remark I am about to make, but most female comics are not funny.

Their entire repertoire generally revolves around their lady bits, their bras, their monthly mood swings and how rubbish men are and then they go: “Know what I mean, girls?” as if we’re all mates chatting down the pub.

If they are fat, awkward or less than gorgeous, then they do the self-deprecation thing about how ugly they are or how fat their bum is or how tough it is to find a bloke to hate.

I’m not saying all male comedians are great – far from it. For among the mainstream popular peddlars of mirth, you have the bafflingly successful Russell Howard, whose act is mainly a string of puerile schoolboy-style gags about ‘doing it’ woven around stuff about his mum; and John Bishop’s tales of going from phaaaaaaarmaceutical salesman to stand-up comic are now sounding way too familiar. Even Michael Mcintyre, once hilarious, has all but disappeared up his own floppy fringe. But at least the guys take their observations from a broader playing field that isn’t just everyday drivel about which pants to wear.

Which brings me to Miranda Hart, who, in a nod to the extremely self-deprecating style of Jo Brand, plays the awkward, unattractive female oaf to a tee, including talking about the donning of giant undercrackers.

In fact, she was doing just that on Monday at 5pm on Fern, the brand new chat show, which the announcer introduced with a booming: “Live at five, it’s Fern on four.”

Hart, looking more awkward than usual on a tiny sofa, was among the first guests on Fern Britton’s new daytime show, which kicked off by attracting a third less than C4’s average audience for the five o’clock slot. Gulp.

And a more uncomfortable interview it would be hard to find as Fern, looking gaunt and nervous, tried to build up a rapport with the award-winning comedienne, who was by now sweating profusely along the top lip area, perhaps due to the intense studio lighting in ‘the lounge’ or, more likely, the realisation that the live audience didn’t laugh once.

Because she just wasn’t funny. She looks funny, I’ll give you that, and the crowd tittered a bit when she first lumbered on, but it was downhill after that: Fern: “Did you make people laugh at school?”

Hart: “Not really.

Fern: “How do you write?”

Hart: “I sit down, open the PC, write.

Fern: “Do you find material in everyday life or do you make it up?”

Hart: “Bit of both, really.

Fern: Do you mind being a stereotypical comic – you know, dull, antisocial and miserable in real life?”

Actually, that last one was a joke.

But that’s how it went and it was pretty cringeworthy.

But there were some nice touches, too. Like when the audience, which Fern described as the most important thing on the show, was invited to relate their own rib-wrenchingly embarrassing moments that Hart could maybe work into a Miranda script. Sadly, they only let two speak, two who looked and sounded suspiciously like overconfident agency extras.

One was a girl whose most shameful life event so far was not realising her dessert had resulted in a bit of a chocolate moustache on a first date. Hmm, shall I tell her or will you?

The other, an elderly lady wearing what appeared to be a young woman’s hair and dress, who cackled away about the time when she was a PA and how, while taking the minutes of a meeting her thong fell off and ended up on the floor.

Thong? Did they have thongs in the Victorian era?

On the upside, an interview with a little girl called Debbie who bravely decided to have her disfigured and pain-ridden leg removed to become a paralympian after being inspired by Heather Mills on Dancing On Ice (see, she is good for something) was genuinely moving and the feature about Marryoke, a daft new trend for couples to have music-style videos done of their wedding day was fun.

Britton is a consummate professional, and a good interviewer, but here she just seems too lightweight – both mentally and now, of course, physically. It’s almost as if when she lost the weight, some of her personality and natural jollity went with it.

It’s early days, but considering the other guests on this debut show were Jimmy Doherty (off BBC2’s Farmer’s life for Me) plugging his book and bleating on about his best mate Jamie Oliver, again, and Carol, a contestant off Come Dine With Me (Channel 4’s usual 5pm offering, which regularly gets more than 2 million viewers) who is famous for belching, all I can say is thanks goodness for the brilliant section called One Born Every Monday.

You need to watch and see, but all I will say is this week we saw Willie the ram being born and it was wonderful.

She might not have exclusive interviews with A-listers and her ‘kitchen’ may house the odd moron cooking something, but if it’s baby bunnies, lambs and chicks you want, then Fern’s your girl for full-on fluffiness every Monday for the next few weeks.