RADIO REVIEW:IT MAY WELL be that the darkest hour is before dawn, as the EU economics commissioner Olli Rehn remarked to a benighted Irish nation last week, but on radio there are those who always look on the bright side of life. Ryan Tubridy, for one, has been keen that listeners to his show ( Tubridy, 2FM, weekdays) do not lose sight of Ireland's virtues.
His upbeat belief in the country is such that on Tuesday he was trying to tempt long-term emigrants with good jobs to return home. Andrew, an Irish finance worker living in London, called to say he was thinking of coming back, but his friends here had only negative things to say about the country.
Tubridy's confidence in Ireland is a constant theme. He found a kindred spirit when interviewing the magazine publisher Norah Casey. The businesswoman thought the recession might be the best thing for young people: having got lazy in the boom years, Irish youth would now learn to stand on their own two feet.
When 19-year-old Marie texted that she was losing faith in her country, and may move to the UK, Tubridy sounded genuinely distressed. He urged the young woman not to listen to the voices of doom. "There's a terrible habit [ in Ireland] of wishing you well to an extent and then shooting you down," he said. "You just keep your dream alive and go forth and be brilliant."
Such sentiments are admirable, but there can be a hectoring quality about Tubridy's Micawberish tendencies, rooted in old-fashioned patriotism: he and Casey bonded over their grandparents both being imprisoned in Frongoch after the 1916 Rising. His brand of idealistic national pride often seems anachronistic, not to say quixotic.
Over on The John Murray Show(RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays) a wry gallows humour instead prevails. In describing Rehn as "an cigire", Murray neatly summed up the atmosphere of fear, resentment and kowtowing that surrounded the Finnish official's visit. Since taking over Tubridy's 9am berth on Radio 1 in September, Murray has already forged a distinctive identity for his show, breathing fresh life into the slot's character and format.
Last week's phone poll on whether Ireland should introduce compulsory military service was a good example. Tom Clonan, the former army officer who is now The Irish Times'ssecurity analyst, put the case for national service, saying that after years of greed it would foster values of responsibility by focusing on the collective rather than the individual. Dublin city councillor Brid Smith put the opposing case, arguing against the conformism of the military, but 63 per cent of 2,000 respondents agreed with Clonan, a verdict that surprised both guests.
Murray's hail-fellow-well-met demeanour does not always work - his interview with the food critic Tom Doorley seemed a little too self-satisfied all round - but he has already made the slot his own. And his personality, cheery yet sardonic, seems to chime with the prevailing national mood better than Tubridy's earnest boosterism.
But, bad as things are now, things have been worse before, as we heard during Miriam O'Callaghan's interview with John Giles and Eamon Dunphy ( Miriam Meets...,RTÉ Radio 1, Sunday). Both men spoke of the poverty of the Dublin of their youth in the 1940s and 1950s, revealing much about themselves in the process. The level-headed, no-nonsense Giles said that although his childhood was hard, with nine people living in two rooms, he rarely dwelt on his impoverishment, as everyone else was in the same boat. Dunphy, however, grew up with hang-ups about being poor in more prosperous Drumcondra. "It explains a lot about my character," Dunphy said. "I'd be more rebellious and not as genial as John."
Overall it was a compelling show, enlivened by the interplay between Dunphy's mischievous needling and Giles's grumpy common sense; having known each other for more than 50 years, their bond sounded deep, despite their squabbling. If our current woes can forge similarly compelling characters, there may be some reasons to be cheerful after all.
Radio moment of the week
For all the talk about how digital media is reshaping how we consume politics, last Sunday provided an example of how the humble radio interview is still the most unforgiving platform. When Enda Kenny turned up on This Week (RTÉ Radio 1, Sundays), to push Fine Gael's plans for reforming the public service, he was flummoxed by the straightforward questioning of Richard Crowley. Discussing Fine Gael's policy to abolish the HSE, Crowley pressed an increasingly flustered Kenny about how many staff would be re-employed and who would employ them.
"You can't ask me to put a figure on that," Kenny complained.
"I can, it's your plan," retorted Crowley.
On radio, there is nowhere to run.
