Subscriber OnlyTV & RadioReview

RTÉ’s twisty new soap opera stars Ray D’Arcy and, now, Brendan Courtney

The host sounds awkward standing in for his departed colleague, while Jonathan Healy confidently steers The Hard Shoulder

Ray D’Arcy’s old midafternoon slot has been temporarily rebranded in forebodingly generic fashion as The 3 O’Clock Show, with Brendan Courtney the man tasked with not unduly rocking the boat
Ray D’Arcy’s old midafternoon slot has been temporarily rebranded in forebodingly generic fashion as The 3 O’Clock Show, with Brendan Courtney the man tasked with not unduly rocking the boat

Even by the eventful standards of recent times – think the Ryan Tubridy controversy or 2FM’s mass exodus – it’s the most dramatic episode in the Irish radio world for years, a twisty soap opera rife with the botched scheming, corporate feuding and bitter exiting that rivet audiences.

Unfortunately for listeners, it occurs off-air. A severe let-down awaits anyone tuning in to savour the cordite-laden aftermath of Ray D’Arcy’s rancorous departure from RTÉ or Kieran Cuddihy’s rushed defection from Newstalk to ascend the Liveline throne.

On the airwaves, at least, RTÉ Radio 1 and its commercial rival Newstalk try to carry on as if nothing has happened, with a hastily assembled cast of stand-in presenters doing their best to avoid any reference to their former colleagues. Portraits of purged politburos have been airbrushed with more subtlety.

D’Arcy’s old midafternoon slot, for instance, has been temporarily rebranded in forebodingly generic fashion as The 3 O’Clock Show (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays), with Brendan Courtney the man tasked with not unduly rocking the boat, an assignment he executes with distinction. (The Rising Time presenter Shay Byrne initially stepped into the breach when D’Arcy abruptly left the station last week, after the breakdown of contract talks. Earlier reports said RTÉ had refused D’Arcy a valedictory show; it says that it had privately agreed with the broadcaster that he would finish on Friday, October 10th, but that he cancelled this arrangement last Thursday morning, after receiving a press query. RTÉ says D’Arcy told it “that he would not be going on air that day and that he had done his final show”.)

Courtney, who has become Radio 1’s go-to replacement host for chatshows – he regularly fills in for Oliver Callan – has a geniality that translates well to television lifestyle programming, as well as more personal projects such as the documentary on his father’s stroke.

But while he glides over D’Arcy’s absence in discreet if slightly uncomfortable silence – he gets the date wrong while opening Monday’s show, suggesting he’s not totally at ease with the situation – Courtney’s naturally amiable style doesn’t translate into dynamic radio.

Instead there’s frothy conversation as the food broadcaster Donal Skehan promotes his new cookbook, the most noteworthy moment coming when host and guest name their favourite jazz singers. “Would you listen to us, two middle-aged men talking about jazz,” the presenter says, chuckling.

Courtney can be a striking radio presence: he spoke with raw candour to Joe Duffy on Liveline earlier this year about being assaulted in what appeared to be a targeted homophobic attack. In this setting, however, he lacks the sly humour or gimlet eye that might transform his chats with chainsaw artists or gallery curators into more diverting material. (In fairness, D’Arcy regularly struggled in such instances too.)

RTÉ’s new radio schedule a hurried defensive reflex to sour taste left by Ray D’Arcy exitOpens in new window ]

There are brighter spots – his interview with the novelist Rónán Hession is an unexpected paean to kindness, an all too rare commodity these days – but, even allowing for the awkwardness of his role, Courtney’s performance somehow only draws attention to his predecessor’s absence.

Radio 1 execs will hope that Louise Duffy can better engender collective amnesia when her music show permanently moves to the slot.

A slightly less makeshift atmosphere prevails on The Hard Shoulder (Newstalk, weekdays). While the plug was abruptly pulled on Cuddihy’s tenure when news broke of his move to RTÉ, Jonathan Healy sounds unruffled when filling in for the week, or “still standing in the gap”, as he says on Monday. (He later jokes about the stress causing him to take up smoking.)

Such wry asides notwithstanding, Healy gets on with the job of running the magazine show in breezily confident manner. A seasoned current-affairs broadcaster – he previously anchored Newstalk’s Lunchtime news show – Healy moves smoothly between topics, maintaining the same cheerfully curious approach throughout.

And though his chipper manner can appear slightly incongruous when discussing the fragile ceasefire in Gaza – he talks about a “sugar rush” after the initial announcement – it works better when he talks to Peadar Tóibín, the Aontú leader, about his favourite books.

Having been earlier pressed by Healy on his party’s unsuccessful tabling of a no-confidence motion in Tánaiste Simon Harris over failures in childhood scoliosis treatment, Tóibín shows a different side by talking enthusiastically about everything from the Irish language to Abraham Lincoln. Inevitably, he slips in a gripe about the supposed political uniformity of contemporary Ireland, a recurring narrative among social conservatives since Maria Steen’s botched presidential bid.

Either way, Healy handles his brief well, helped by the fact that the Hard Shoulder brand predates Cuddihy’s stint: the bigger question is who takes over the reins on a permanent basis.

Claire Byrne is Newstalk-bound. Photograph: Sam Boal/Collins Photo
Claire Byrne is Newstalk-bound. Photograph: Sam Boal/Collins Photo

Amid the upheaval in the radio landscape, one show ironically still exuding a strong air of stability is Today with Claire Byrne (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays), where the Newstalk-bound host handles proceedings with the serene professionalism of someone imminently heading for more lucrative waters. (In her case off to displace Pat Kenny from his midmorning berth to the dry dock of the weekend schedule.)

Despite her impending departure, Byrne continues to helm her show in steady and thorough manner, even if some big-ticket items appear to have bypassed her: it may be coincidence, but it’s notable that the presidential debate on This Week (RTÉ Radio 1, Sunday) is hosted by her imminent successor, David McCullagh.

Even so, Byrne is keeping her jousting skills sharp, as evidenced by her interview with Minister for Culture Patrick O’Donovan. He dismisses Aontú’s no-confidence motion, claiming it is “going down the political route” rather than motivated by concern for young scoliosis patients awaiting treatment. He expresses sympathy for the parents of Harvey Morrison Sherratt, who died in July only months after long-delayed spinal surgery, noting (repeatedly) that he is a father himself.

O’Donovan tries to strike a contrite note on health-system shortcomings, but Byrne tartly parries: “You’re the people in charge here over all of those years.”

Sharp interviewer though she is, Byrne isn’t always renowned for lightness of touch. But she is a sympathetic host during her conversation with Claire Colum, whose five year-old daughter, Kate, died from sepsis at Sligo University Hospital in 2023.

After last week’s radio reshuffle, what is the difference now between RTÉ and Newstalk?Opens in new window ]

Speaking with remarkable clarity and composure, Colum recounts a heartbreaking litany of failures to spot Kate’s worsening condition, while stressing that her beloved daughter, who had Down syndrome, did not have any reduced immunity: “She was very hardy.”

There’s a purpose to the interview – the Colum family is working with the HSE to raise medical awareness of similar cases – but it’s a poignant item, amplified by Colum’s quietly devastating testimony. Byrne wisely stands back, letting her guest remember her daughter. There are times when silence is the best option.

Moment of the week

The news that Radio 1 is adding a weekday sports show to its forthcoming schedule revamp will come as a relief to those who think there’s not enough sport on the station, apart from the hourly bulletins and its weekend offerings. The full extent of this dearth comes clear on Saturday Sport, when Des Cahill opens the show in exuberantly incredulous fashion. “Hello, there. Eight hours of sport on the way, listeners,” he says, as if hardly believing it himself. “Eight hours.” With more to come.

This article was amended on October 17th, 2025, to include RTÉ’s account of Ray D’Arcy’s departure from Radio 1