With the likelihood of a huge government bailout for RTÉ growing with each passing week, it makes sense for the national broadcaster to emphasise its public-service remit at every turn. Judging by some of the content on RTÉ Radio 1, however, not everyone has got the memo. From morning to afternoon, the station’s human-interest magazines prefer to trade in Mickey Mouse topics and bullsh*t conversations. This is not some vulgar critical judgment. For better or worse, it’s an accurate description of items featured on the weekday Nine O’Clock Show and Ray D’Arcy Show.
Back for another tour of duty as host of the former programme, Oliver Callan marks the 100th anniversary of Walt Disney’s foundation of the eponymous entertainment behemoth by chatting to Aedín Gormley, presenter of the reliably enjoyable soundtrack show Movies and Musicals (Lyric FM, Saturday). Gormley is characteristically personable and knowledgeable as she outlines the story of Disney, both man and company. Callan, whose impressions on his satirical series Callan’s Kicks (RTÉ Radio 1, Friday) testify to his skill as a vocal artist, expresses wonder that Disney, a smoker, voiced the high-pitched Mickey Mouse. But with the bulk of Monday’s edition devoted to the subject, it begins to feel less like comprehensive coverage than comfortable padding.
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Then again, The Nine O’Clock Show isn’t there to challenge listeners. On Wednesday, Callan dolefully refers to the horrors in Gaza and Israel – “It’s anything but a good morning” – before changing direction. “You can see why we turn to various escapes,” he remarks, duly moving on to sunnier topics. Even ostensibly difficult items are refracted through an optimistic lens: his interview with Sarah de Lagarde, who received a robotic limb after losing her arm and leg in an accident on the London Underground, has a feelgood tone.
Fizzy radio is all very well, but some substance is required if it goes flat
Perhaps the most discomfiting thing about the slot, which is on course to go through as many presenters as Dr Who has had incarnations – the former 2FM presenter Ciara King did a stint two weeks ago – is the ease with which Callan glides back into the hotseat. For a performer who frequently skewers public figures with deadly accuracy, and whose occasional newspaper columns speak of a slightly contrarian worldview, he’s surprisingly adept at the role of the reassuring radio companion, taking the listener away from the woes of the world. Questions remain about the longer-term prospects of The Nine O’Clock Show, in terms of not just a permanent host but also whether the frothy format is past its sell-by date. For the time being, however, Callan plays the part with unexpected aplomb.
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The persistence of such a show in the Radio 1 schedule continues to hamper Ray D’Arcy in his afternoon tenure. As was the case when Ryan Tubridy occupied the morning berth, there’s a crossover of material between the two programmes, to D’Arcy’s disadvantage. On Wednesday he looks at a Central Statistics Office (CSO) report on the changes Ireland has undergone since joining what is now the EU, in 1973. All very promising, but Callan has already covered the subject earlier. True, D’Arcy drills down into the data with Colette Keane of the CSO, but, with many of the facts getting their second airing of the day, the segment isn’t as absorbing as it should be.
But D’Arcy has ways of differentiating himself. Though his public image has long been that of an amiable, down-to-earth fella, he is far more inquiring than that. “I love comparative statistics,” he says enthusiastically. He also possesses a sceptical side that’s at home with more contentious issues, as underlined by his discussion of male bovine manure of the verbal variety. Or, to use a less bullsh*tty term, bullshit. If there’s a suspicion that the word’s profane frisson adds to the host’s interest in the subject – “I apologise if people are offended by the use of the word ‘bullshit’,” he says – it’s dispelled by his conversation with a University College Dublin academic, Daniel Deasy. (The item also takes its cue from Joe Humphreys’s Unthinkable column in The Irish Times.)
D’Arcy’s guest translates the word more palatably as “content that is presented without regard to the truth”, while noting that advertising, politics and, of course, social media are prime sources of the commodity. It’s the latter realm that most exercises the host, who blames online platforms for the polarised world in evidence around us: “We are fed by the big tech companies just what we want to hear.” This is hardly a novel observation, but it adds more heft to the show than, say, naming defunct brands of 1970s soft drinks, as D’Arcy does on Wednesday. Fizzy radio is all very well, but some substance is required if it goes flat.
An uncharacteristically joyous atmosphere pervades Tuesday’s Liveline (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays), as Katie Hannon, its guest host, welcomes Dolly Parton, of all people. The presenter’s excitement is palpable as she introduces the legendary country singer, who’s promoting her new book: “Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would ever say, ‘Hello, Dolly Parton,’” says Hannon, surely echoing the reaction of listeners at the somewhat random coup.
The conversation that follows is as upbeat and empowering as any of Parton’s hits. She describes her impoverished childhood as emotionally rich, affectionately recalls her impromptu performance at the late Páidí Ó Sé’s pub in Kerry and speaks of her sadness at the death of Sinéad O’Connor: “I always felt connected to her.” In other circumstances, such determined positivity could be hokey, but such is Parton’s luminescent personality and stellar wattage that it’s impossible not to share Hannon’s enthusiasm. It’s a far cry from Liveline’s usual fare, but one that lifts the spirits, and quite possibly the ratings too. Never any harm to change the formula.
