With his occasional outbursts of maniacal laughter and single-minded pursuit of an elusive dream, there’s a touch of the mad scientist to Cormac Ó hEadhra. True, as a presenter of Drivetime (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays) his laughter is benign rather than sinister, and his crazy ambition is to finagle answers from politicians as opposed to carrying out diabolically outlandish experiments. Still, it seems appropriate that Ó hEadhra should be on hand to hear about a revolutionary scientific advance on Tuesday’s show.
“You have the very easy task of explaining what this nuclear-fusion breakthrough is to us,” Ó hEadhra says to Prof Turlough Downes of Dublin City University, with a disappointingly gentle chuckle rather than a malicious cackle. Downes does a good job of outlining the physics and potential impact of the landmark achievement, which fuses two atoms to create energy, much as the sun does.
‘I’m totally fascinated by this, but I have to rein myself in,’ Cormac Ó hEadhra tells the TV chef Catherine Fulvio, showing a restraint his hard-pressed political guests must wish he displayed more often
Meanwhile the host does what he does best, peppering his guest with questions. “I’m totally fascinated by this, but I have to rein myself in,” he says, showing a restraint his hard-pressed political guests must wish he displayed more often. He doesn’t hide his feelings, however, when his guest notes that nuclear fusion could eventually prove to be a limitless source of clean energy: “Holy cow.”
But there are certain experiments that Ó hEadhra draws a line at, as becomes clear when he talks to the TV chef Catherine Fulvio about the “challenge” of cooking for vegans at Christmas. The spirit of the conversation is inclusive – “Vegans will hate being described as a challenge,” he says – though the host can’t help wondering if it’s possible to tell a “little white lie” about roast potatoes cooked in goose fat. But when Fulvio suggests a dessert of meringues made with chickpea water rather than egg whites he sounds horrified: “Oh Christ, is that nice?” When Fulvio convinces him, he changes his tune: “By God, you’re a genius.”
To say that Ó hEadhra is overcome by seasonal generosity might be a stretch: when the Sinn Féin TD Eoin Ó Broin and James Lawless of Fianna Fáil tetchily debate the confidence motion in Minister for Housing Darragh O’Brien, the host helps stir the ding-dong unfolding between his guests. But, generally, he’s in upbeat form, his signature laugh on full display: during his World Cup discussion with the Irish Times soccer correspondent, Gavin Cummiskey, the host guffaws as the conversation is interrupted by a wonky connection to Qatar that’s “as dodgy as an England full-back line”.
That Ó hEadhra is sole host for much of the week adds to his demeanour: with his copresenter Sarah McInerney absent on Tuesday and Wednesday, there’s no one to divert his jocular energies. But while he may not mind flying solo in the festive run-up, others aren’t quite as carefree.
On Monday the Drivetime duo hear how a third of single people feel self-conscious over Christmas, with a relationships expert, Dr Caroline West, explaining that those not in a relationship can feel unworthy and unloved: “It’s a very painful time of year for a lot of people,” West says. (Vegans can probably sympathise.) The discussion that follows offers tips on how to navigate such sensitive matters, with McInerney making the suggestion that single diners could make a short speech about their status at the start of festivities. “Oh my God,” responds a theatrically horrified Ó hEadhra, while McInerney, on mature reflection, dubs it a “terrible idea”.
Maybe so, but the item shows why – with apologies to single people everywhere – Drivetime works better with two people at the helm. Ó hEadhra’s solo performances are enjoyably giddy, but they can’t quite match the zing he generates with McInerney. You don’t have to be a scientist to recognise chemistry in action.
If Claire Byrne’s larkily unguarded tone is a change from her usual poise, it’s possible that’s because the subject is only football, which, despite what Bill Shankly said, isn’t more important than life and death
Nonchalant banter isn’t Claire Byrne’s natural milieu, but the World Cup brings out her casual side on Wednesday’s Today with Claire Byrne (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays). Discussing Argentina’s semi-final win over Croatia with the journalist Gavin Cooney, Byrne is entertainingly forthright in her opinions. “I thought it was a boring match,” she says bluntly, dubbing it not so much a contest as a “display of football” by Lionel Messi’s victorious team.
Though ostensibly the expert guest, Cooney also plays the role of amused foil to his host, as she voices her irritation at Argentina’s opening goal. “Look, I’m sure they deserved their penalty,” Byrne says disdainfully, “but in terms of creating a really good game, argh, it was frustrating.”
If the host’s larkily unguarded tone is a change from her usual poise, it’s possible that’s because the subject is only football, which, despite what Bill Shankly said, isn’t more important than life and death. When it comes to weightier matters, Byrne maintains her more familiar game face.
This is a good thing: in her serious treatment of political, social and economic subjects, Byrne shows respect for both listeners and guests. Her consistently rigorous yet humane coverage of the war in Ukraine has been exemplary, for example. But Byrne’s calmly analytical style hasn’t always equated to captivating radio. Her item on Cabinet divisions over proposed new planning regulations explains the issues involved but lacks the edge of Drivetime’s coverage of the topic.
But her approach yields other dividends. On Tuesday Byrne interviews Jeanette Brown, a landlord who featured in an Irish Times report a day earlier, and who has been left homeless, though she prefers the term “homeless homeowner”. Brown, having rented her apartment when she worked abroad, has been unable to return to her home because of the eviction ban yet cannot find a rental property. It’s a glum parable of modern Ireland, with complex overlapping themes, which the host teases out in her trademark fastidious manner.
It’s fun hearing Byrne gripe about football, but she knows how to play to her strengths.
