FAILING his way through the entire syllabus, Karl Theobald had exhausted nearly all possible subjects to plumb the depths of, when he mercifully discovered drama.

"I fell into it," he confesses, with an echo of childlike guilt.

"I went from cooking to woodwork to computing - all the computers broke down when I did it, probably because of me - so the only subject that was left was acting.

"I was quite a distracted, impatient child. My mind was not really in the job. I didn't want to be at school. But I enjoyed drama. I could be creative in a way that was not so dry and academic. And you got three weeks off in the summer if you did the summer show, so it was a bonus."

After studying leisure and theatre at college - a controversial step when most opted for the more vocational welding course - he lived "from hand to mouth" for a number of years attempting to uncover his purpose in life. All the while he pursued a music career, going against the grain of Norwich's rising House Music scene in favour of folk and country.

He eventually fell in with an artistic crowd, which prompted him to apply to Drama Centre London.

There he befriended Russell Brand and the pair eventually formed a two-hander touring with their comedy act.

This opened the sceptic's eyes to the wealth of opportunities and range of parts available to comedic actors.

This period of his life certainly steered him in a novel direction and paved the way for such roles as Dr Martin Dear in Green Wing, Graham Hitchens in Twenty Twelve and the landlord in Plebs.

"When he said we should write comedy I was dubious," admits the 45-year-old. "He was a comedy fanatic. I think he made me appreciate my own comedy talent."

Karl went on to enjoy a stand-up career, during which he tackled his most bewildering and challenging "role" to date: himself.

"The weirdest character probably anyone has to play is themselves," he laughs.

Dipping in and out of stage work, he is now back on tour with Alan Bennett's series of darkly comic monologues Talking Heads.

While jittery at the prospect of taking on a role originally played by Bennett himself when the monologue, A Chip in the Sugar first aired on television in 1988, he was immediately drawn to the character of Graham Whittaker. A devoted son, Graham's life begins to unravel when he discovers his aging mother has taken up with an old flame, Frank Turnbull. As Mr Turnbull's influence over his mother grows, so does Graham's jealousy and his suspicion that he is hiding something.

"It was perfect for me; it's a combination of pathos and humour. I'm not too keen on anything that's completely dry, humourless and serious or things that are too frivolous. But Alan Bennett played him so it was a bit of a responsibility. I remember seeing it when it first came out but when they offered me the role I thought "I'm not going to watch it again'. You can't help but imitate if you do."

Aside from Bennett's anti-hero, Karl is best known for his role as another Graham, in the award-winning BBC comedy Twenty Twelve.

In his element as the bumbling head of infrastructure, he relished the show's unintentional prophetic nature. Like clockwork, nearly every admin hiccup, logistical nightmare or public relations crisis imagined by writer John Morton ended up coming true plaguing the real games organiser.

"We didn't really need to see what the organisers were doing and do the complete opposite for comedy," he reveals. "A lot of them were quite hapless.

"John Morton would write something in the script and then it would happen for real. We had this episode where a clock broke down and it really happened. It was odd; it was predicting what would happen."

Always dipping his fingers in many pies, Karl has a busy schedule ahead of him. Talking Heads done and dusted he will return to the set of Plebs to film the third series. In October he will record his second album with his band Grifter Kid And The Midnight Raiders, a moniker which echoes his 'gang' days.

"I had a grifter bike so I was called grifter kid in school and I was in this gang called The Midnight Raiders," he says with a hearty chuckle.

"Someone called our music country jazz once. I have no idea what that means."

Talking Heads runs at the Theatre Royal Bath until August 8. Tickets are available from the Box Office on 01225 448844 or at www.theatreroyal.org.uk.