IN a Glasgow coffee shop, at a table next to the plate glass window, Elaine C Smith is sipping cappuccino and sharing half a lemon drizzle cake. But fish food would be more appropriate in this goldfish-bowl setting. Every few minutes a passer-by by recognises Scotland’s comedy grand dame and either waves or gives the thumbs-up. Inside, several customers can’t resist the chance of a selfie with the lady from Lanarkshire.

Smith is more than happy to please her public but she’s less pleased with the choice of venue, a multinational chain whose tax contributions some find far harder to swallow than its lemon drizzle cake (the storm outside forced the quick decision).

Yet, you can offer a knowing smile that politics is never far from the forefront of Elaine C Smith’s mind. She may be Scotland’s most popular actress, a panto star and more recently the face of her own STV travelogues, but the next two hours of chat reveals the extent to which Smith’s career and her desire to change the world are inseparable. Her work forms and informs her.

We’re here to talk about her upcoming role in the Scottish tour of the stage show Annie, in which Smith plays the outrageous alcoholic child-hater that is Miss Hannigan. There's also more TV success is just around the corner, as she's finally made it onto the BBC2 network with a new comedy series, Two Doors Down.

But before we discuss the roles, the actor has to unload her mind of uppermost thoughts. And always, politics is waiting in the wings ready to make an entrance.

“Did you see it!” she asks. She's talking about her STV programme Burdz Eye View Of Hogmanay, which aired on New Year's Eve and featured First Minister Nicola Sturgeon, as well as Sturgeon’s sister Gillian and mother Joan.

“Jackson Carlaw had a go at me in Holyrood (on the opening day of the new session) referring to me as a ‘former comedienne’. The cheek!”

The deputy Tory leader certainly took on the First Lady of Comedy, not only criticising her choice of guests but making a tongue-in-cheek comparison to the opening scenes of Macbeth. Clearly, he – and the 37 people who complained to TV watchdog Ofcom – believed the prominent independence supporter should not have used such a platform as Hogmanay telly in such an overtly political way. “There was a bit of a stooshie,” Smith grins. “I did get one email saying ‘How far up Nicola Sturgeon’s a*** do you want to go?’ and I emailed back ‘And a happy New Year to you too!’ And there was an online complaint about how the SNP manages to ruin Hogmanay. But there were no complaints to STV.”

Smith’s intent was to have a clutch of women on the show (comedienne Janey Godley also appeared) but also to humanise politics, to remind the world that politicians such as the First Minister are the same as the rest of us. “At one point I asked Nicola the question, ‘Were there any political argy-bargies in your house at New Year?’ because that’s what viewers want to know. Later, writer Andrew O’Hagan texted me to say he loved the question about me asking the First Minister if she kept a manky hoose.

“Pat Kane (Hue And Cry singer and writer) said he loved the dynamics with the women on the show, but to be fair he also said that to take the curse off it I should have had Kezia Dugdale walking on with the ginger wine and Ruth Davidson bringing on the black bun.’

“If I could have done that I would. But for me the night was about celebrating having a first minister who is a woman.”

How close is Smith’s association with Sturgeon? “I did an interview with Vogue magazine, who were asking me about Nicola and I pointed out we don’t phone each other to go shopping. I’m much closer with Helena (Kennedy, QC). But I’m an ambassador for the Citz Theatre, so I got Nicola along to the Slab Boys. Yet, here’s the thing; I didn’t get to know Nicola because of politics. I got to know her because her mother came to my one-woman shows.”

Nicola Surgeon seems a rather intense person. Does she relax more in an entertainment arena? “She is intense, a bit, but also very, very funny.

“If you talk to Nicola, ask what she thinks of Tracey Ullman doing her for example (on Ullman’s new sketch show), claiming Angela Merkel has copied her, she thinks it’s hysterical.

“And when I phoned Nicola about the Hogmanay show complaints going to Ofcom she texted back that she'd had nothing but positive comments, but at least it had the Unionists’ knickers in a twist.”

Smith brings the curtain down on her Hogmanay show defence with a final flourish. “I couldn’t walk down Buchanan Street without punters saying they loved it and that it was the perfect alternative to Jackie Bird on the BBC. And here’s the thing: I didn’t make it for the New Town dinner party set. I made it for working-class people to enjoy. I wanted to get away from that folk-in-tartan-sitting-on-bales-of-hay-sh***.”

If Smith was attempting to revamp (resuscitate?) Hogmanay television, she’s also making changes to Miss Hannigan, the orphanage caretaker whose character is based on the 1924 Harold Gray comic strip, Little Orphan Annie. The actor has been thinking hard about the politics of the time.

“The danger is you play her simply as evil and bad – but no-one is simply evil and bad. So you try to put her in context. The story is set during the Depression, with 15 million unemployed – and Miss Hannigan is also a victim of that. She ends up in an orphanage full of kids who have been abandoned and Hannigan’s attitude is, ‘I’m doing OK, I’ve got free food, gas and electricity.’ So you can see where she’s coming from. She’s a survivor.

“And this is a story which will resonate with the audiences today. For the Hoovervilles of that time (the shanty towns set up by the homeless and jobless), read foodbanks and people who can’t get on the housing ladder. It’s a story about the huge economic divide. Daddy Warbucks [the business magnate who adopts Annie] is Donald Trump.”

There was a recent attempt to reinvent Annie with Cameron Diaz starring as Miss H, the story set in modern times. But it was slammed. Billionaires, for example, aren’t allowed to take little girls home for the weekends. “Yes, well, that part of the storyline is a bit suspect. But let’s put it down to the naivety of the period, when we didn’t assume the dangers we know of today.”

Who does Smith channel to find her inner Miss Hannigan? “This may sound actor-wa**y but I just try and find the truth in the character and then add the comedy. Playing Mary Nesbitt [in BBC drama Rab C Nesbitt], for example, was all about finding the truth and then crafting the comedy on top. I get the character first, and then become the clown.

“I guess my Miss Hannigan is Mary’doll in charge of a concentration camp. But she’s troubled. She self-medicates with a lot of alcohol. She’s not happy in her world. She needs more ... love? And when Annie gets to go and live with Daddy Warbucks it’s all about envy. I think people will understand Miss Hannigan.”

Smith says she loves this new "grungy" production of the show. “It’s played out tough,” she says. "When the kids sing It’s A Hard Luck Life, their screwed-up faces reveal exactly that. And it reflects a very tough period. At this time, kids were still being slapped about a lot. It’s definitely a play of its time.”

The actor can’t quite believe she’s playing the role. “When I was a schoolteacher in Edinburgh [she initially studied Drama at RSAMD, later taking a teaching qualification], I took my kids to London and one of the first shows we saw was a new production of Annie with Sheila Hancock as Miss Hannigan.” She adds, with a very grateful smile: “I never thought for a moment I’d one day be playing that same role.”

The mother of two daughters can afford to smile these days. Having just finished a near sell-out season in panto in Aberdeen, Smith is set to appear in her first BBC network comedy, alongside the likes of Alex Norton, Arabella Weir and Doon McKichan.

Two Doors Down – which first aired as a New Year’s special – is Abigail’s Party set in a Glasgow suburb, a series which takes a Brillo pad to the pretentiousness of aspirational life in Scotland. Smith’s character, Christine, isn’t posh, but she trashes everyone mercilessly. She is the sort of creature Stanley Baxter had fun with, 40 years ago.

“Funny enough, I loved Still Game, but I never saw myself in it. I just never felt it would be right for me to be in it. And I was never offered anything anyway. But when I saw the pilot for Two Doors Down I said to my agent, 'I’d like a wee part in it.' Then I was offered the part of Christine and I thought it would be a one-off but the producers came back and offered the series. I thought: ‘Fantastic!’”

Smith loves the unfiltered mouth of her screen character. “She’s one of those, ‘I’m not one to say anything but ... ’ types. One of my favourite speeches features Jonathan Watson and Alex Norton’s characters about to go on holiday and Christine cuts in and says, ‘Where are you flying from? Glasgow? Oh, that’s some place since that terrorist incident. It’s like Fort Knox, now. Ah know a wee lassie that works there, spraying the perfume ... But you know, the hours they’ve got the staff working! She’s all for setting fire to herself just to get oot of the place. And whit’s the world like wi’ that al-Qaeda and that Boko Haram? We used to worry about the IRA – but at least you knew where you were wi’ them.’”

Christine is entirely politically incorrect but Smith loves the feminist construct behind this new series. “One scene, for example, features me, Arabella, Doon and Sharon (Rooney). When do you ever get four women in a series, all being funny in a one scene? And there was a female DOP [director of photography] working as well.” She adds, in a delighted voice: “I thought, ‘Are we in a parallel universe?’”

Christine makes Mary Nesbitt look like a catwalk model. The Two Doors Down character has her hair scraped back, wears zero make-up and an expression that makes dour seem delirious by comparison. “She looks the way I looked in This Wide Night [the 2014 theatre play in which Smith played an ex-con].”

How did she feel about presenting that look to the world?

“Would you ask a guy that question?”

Ah, we’re off. It’s unusual to meet Smith and not have at least one arm-wrestling session. OK, let’s go. Yes. I would. “Would you?” she says in disbelieving tone, grinning. Yes, Elaine. “Would you say to Gregor Fisher, ‘How do you feel about playing Rab with the head bandage and all that?’” No – probably because Fisher's off-stage persona isn't that glamorous anyway.

But I would ask Alex Norton, who’s in this series, how he feels about revealing a fair-sized belly to the nation, looking a world away from his wig-wearing Taggart character.

Smith shrugs. “Fair enough,” she says, returning to the original question. “To be honest, I guess it’s a question I’ve asked myself, as a woman, over the years. I’ve looked at myself in the mirror when I’ve played the less glamorous roles and said, ‘Oh God, look at the state of you!’ And it’s not wrong to feel like that because we are all vain, we all want to present the best version of ourselves to the world. But you know, the next question I ask myself is, ‘Is the script funny?’ If it is, you do what you have to.”

So would she have preferred Christine to be more glam (yet still acerbic) especially after all those years (25) of playing the soap-and-water-only wummin that is Mary Nesbitt?

“I was so synonymous with Mary that a lot of people didn’t realise I was acting,” she says, answering the question indirectly. “When people hear me speak they say, ‘What are you talking in a posh voice for?’ I guess that’s a compliment of sorts. But male actors don’t get these comparisons. If Robert De Niro looks and sounds less attractive, he’s acting.”

On a roll, she makes another political point: “The writing in Two Doors Down is wonderful, and it truly deserves a second series. But do you think it’s a surprise Scotland gets its first network comedy in years just as the independence movement has taken off? Funny that.”

She takes another sip of cappuccino. She’s smiling again. And while Smith may have been a political creature, determined to fight for freedom and feminism, since her days as a student activist and the miners marches of the 1980s, she’s far from angry outside of the political arena.

Life, in fact, is great. “Burdz Eye View goes out again at the end of February,” she says of her STV travelogue series. “We do it for two bags of chips and a KitKat but I love it. And you know, we got bigger audiences in Scotland than Eastenders.

“And I do feel very blessed in lots of way. My wee sister (Diane) was 50 last week, and she was diagnosed with cancer 10 years ago. We’re so thankful she’s still with us.”

There’s also a granddaughter, Stella, to delight in, named after Smith’s own mother, who passed away in 2005 after contracting breast cancer. “To hear the baby call me ‘Gran’ is absolutely wonderful,” she says, beaming. “Although she seems equally taken with Peppa Pig, which is of course, crack cocaine for kiddies.

“But the great thing is we get to say the name "Stella" again without feeling so sad.”

Smith adds, her eyes a little teary. “Look at all the deaths we’ve had in recent times. Bowie, Glenn Frey, Richie Havens ... we all have to look for the light in our lives.”

She pauses and laughs; “Christ, I sound like Oprah now.”

Not quite so beatific, perhaps. As she finishes her cappuccino, she looks round the coffee shop, her mind registering that so little money going through this particular till must have reached the community via the tax office, if allegations about the chain's past record are true.

“B******s,” she says with a wry smile, demonstrating that Scotland's leading comedienne remains in full possession of her powers.

Annie is at the King’s Theatre, Glasgow, February 8-20, Aberdeen His Majesty’s May 9-14 and Edinburgh Playhouse, May 16-21