While it’s unclear if radio audiences really are suffering from news fatigue, as RTÉ Radio 1 management recently claimed in the face of falling listenership, it’s clearly affecting presenters on 2FM. “There’s too much sadness and misery and death around me, the media is flooded with it,” laments Jennifer Zamparelli (2FM, weekdays), “My brain just can’t take any more.” Explaining her aversion to the torrent of bad news stories and true crime tales, the usually exuberant presenter sounds doleful: “It’s having an effect on all of us.”
Maybe so, but right now Zamparelli is one of the few people in RTÉ's radio centre with reasons to be cheerful. In contrast to her Radio 1 counterparts, who saw a uniform drop in numbers in the latest JNLR ratings survey, the 2FM presenter has enjoyed a modest rise for her midmorning show. Moreover, she seems well-positioned to sweep up any listeners seeking relief from glum news programming, thanks to her pacy items, punchy pop playlist and self-consciously irreverent style.
Conversations are conducted in determinedly easy-going fashion, as exemplified by the daily “newsy bits” slot. Zamparelli’s jaunty chat with colleagues Aifric O’Connell and Cormac Battle covers the issue of private schooling in Ireland in the same rigorous manner of pals yakking over coffee: heavy on personal anecdotes and received wisdom, lighter on illuminating data. We also learn that were she to exit broadcasting, the host’s dream job would be delivering the mail.
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As it is, she pushes the envelope in other ways. Lest listeners think her newsy bits too highbrow, Zamparelli chats to dietitian Sophie Medlin, presenter of the charmingly-titled Channel 4 series Know Your S***, who talks about the “pharmacy of microbes in your colon” and the joys of a movement that, ahem, completely empties the bowels. “They’re the best,” enthuses the host, possibly oversharing. But while the icky language clearly chimes with her cheeky side, it’s an informative discussion on digestive health, if you have the stomach for it.
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That said, the host can tackle social issues in a considered manner. She speaks to sociologist Dr Lucy Michael about unconscious bias, wondering if we can really change such hidden predispositions or prejudices. It’s a slightly awkward conversation, the host’s apparent keenness to learn is offset by her dutiful questioning. It highlights a dichotomy that occasionally emerges between Zamparelli’s easily accepting attitude to differences in gender, race and sexuality, and her instinct for uproarious mockery; something akin to politically incorrect wokeness, if there is such a thing.
2FM Breakfast is so maniacally goofy that Zamparelli’s show seems like an arid policy think-tank in comparison
Nonetheless, as her numbers suggest, it’s an approach that’s working. Though her full-on personality still can have a Marmite quality, Zamparelli has a rapport with her audience. Tuesday’s conversations with single mothers shows the host at her most empathetic, though she’s some way from going full Miriam O’Callaghan. Either way, Zamparelli provides a much-needed bounce for 2FM after a tricky pandemic.
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The station’s other big winner – though “big” is probably stretching it – is 2FM Breakfast (weekdays), which has also seen a small ratings uptick. Whatever else, the morning programme is no danger of shedding listeners through news fatigue. As hosted by Doireann Garrihy, Carl Mullan and former Ireland rugby international Donncha O’Callaghan, the show is so maniacally goofy that Zamparelli’s show seems like an arid policy think-tank in comparison.
The three presenters create a hyperkinetic on-air chemistry, slagging and cackling their way through dependably daft topics of conversation: “What is the best prank you’ve ever pulled off?” Coming so early in the day, the trio’s vim is to be admired, though the relentlessly uproarious atmosphere surely risks exhausting listeners before they’ve even got up.
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Among the subjects discussed is the sale of underpants worn by Breaking Bad actor Bryan Cranston, which prompts a conversation about the time O’Callaghan auctioned his own briefs for charity. “Speaking of knickers,” Mullan howls incredulously, “your red jocks went for €19,000!” It’s not all lacy unmentionables. Real world issues are also covered, as Mullan hails the return of catering trolleys to Iarnród Éireann trains as a personal victory, having previously decried their absence. “As a show we stood up and took a stand,” he theatrically proclaims. “Did we?” asks a perplexed O’Callaghan.
Even reviewers of a certain vintage can appreciate how 2FM Breakfast provides an uplifting alternative to the gloomy stolidity of Morning Ireland
As such exchanges make clear, the programme trades on raucous style rather than anything more substantial, putting the trio’s personalities front and centre. Sure enough, there’s a clear division of labour amid all the carry-on, with O’Callaghan playing the part of amiable palooka, Mullan acting as excitable wingman and Garrihy presiding as mischievous ringleader. (Garrihy’s status as first among equals is underlined by her current television role as co-host of RTÉ 1′s Dancing With The Stars, alongside Zamparelli: uniquely for Irish radio, 2FM’s biggest names are women, even trumping the station’s laddish drive-time arrivistes the 2 Johnnies.)
With the banter often resembling a Hobbesian playground, roughhouse can inevitably turn to tears. On Valentine’s Day, listeners choose which presenter has written the best love poem, with the loser obliged to read out the romantic card greetings they’ve written for their partner. When Garrihy fails to garner enough votes, she balks at revealing such intimate information on the airwaves. “I can’t do it, these things are sacred,” she wails; after much joshing, her co-hosts show mercy and relent.
The item highlights the trio’s greatest appeal: for all their teasing, the prevailing spirit is one of benign camaraderie and feelgood humour, with none of the snarkiness that occasionally accompanies the zoo radio format. The programme is undeniably formulated with a specific demographic in mind, but even reviewers of a certain vintage can appreciate how 2FM Breakfast provides an uplifting alternative to the gloomy stolidity of Morning Ireland. For Garrihy, Mullan and O’Callaghan, no news is good news.
