Having been a phoney war for months, the presidential election finally sparks into life on the airwaves, with party-political battle lines being drawn and skirmishes breaking out: the Independent candidate Catherine Connolly sounds tetchy during her interview with Justin McCarthy on This Week (RTÉ Radio 1, Sunday). But one contender in particular catches the attention of Cormac Ó hEadhra on Drivetime (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays).
“My goodness, I’ve got some breaking news now,” the host says, his surprise audible as the former RTÉ weather presenter Joanna Donnelly appears on the show to announce her bid for the presidency. As campaign launches go it’s memorable, though not necessarily in electoral terms.
[ Joanna Donnelly pulls out of presidential election race Opens in new window ]
The meteorologist, who is “shaking like a leaf” with nerves, explains to Ó hEadhra that she’s seeking county-council votes for her nomination, after friends urged her to enter the race for the Áras. “Originally I was dismissing this idea as nonsense,” she says, with admirable if possibly justifiable candour.
But Donnelly, who left Met Éireann in April for reasons of stress – “I was traumatised by leaving” – has decided to run in order to further her advocacy of climate justice. She also cites a lack of candidates with the qualities she values. “I want somebody who has demonstrated trust, empathy, nonpolitical, dignity, education,” she says. “You believe you have all those qualities, which is fair enough,” Ó hEadhra replies, heaping faint praise on his guest.
The Paper on Sky Max & Now: Domhnall Gleeson pulls off deadpan droll in US Office offshoot
The longer Joanna Donnelly’s Drivetime interview goes on, the more we worry
The Traitors: My favourite character is Eamon, who is being radicalised before our eyes
Dev - Rise and Rule review: Chatty, well-made series fails to decode Éamon de Valera
While Donnelly is confident in her personal abilities – “I know that I am worthy” – she’s less certain about other elements needed for an election bid: “I just don’t know that I have the savvy, or the political skills, or the campaign manager or the PR in order to show everybody else that I’m worthy.”
This might sound embarrassingly delusional, but behind her tentative and slightly idiosyncratic manner Donnelly evinces a palpable sincerity. Indeed, the longer the interview continues, the more one worries about her decision to enter the brutal arena of a presidential race, as she herself concedes: “It’s a big thing to let yourself be vulnerable in this place.”
Even Ó hEadhra, normally primed to pounce on evasive guests, eases off when Donnelly says she keeps any political thoughts to herself. “But you can’t now, because you want to be president of Ireland,” he reminds her, with unusual emollience. Yet, for all that, Donnelly seems determined to pursue her presidential ambitions, even as she acknowledges it’s a quixotic quest: “I expect nothing from this.” She may no longer present weather bulletins, but Donnelly’s forecast sounds accurate.
Which may be a blessing in disguise, judging by Ó hEadhra’s discussion of the online abuse faced by those in political life. With Coimisiún na Meán, the media watchdog, finding that one in five politicians has received threats of harm, the Green Party councillor Janet Horner says that social-media abuse creates “an enabling environment” for violence, something she knows about: she was physically attacked while hanging posters during the general election. The former Fine Gael TD Ciarán Cannon describes the toxicity that prompted him to quit politics, recalling his fears for the safety of both himself and his family.
It’s a dispiriting if unsurprising item, but Ó hEadhra, perhaps inspired by his recent stint on Liveline, decides to stir things up a bit by playing devil’s advocate. “What would you say to people who say there’s cronyism in politics, jobs for the boys?” he asks. “What do you mean by cronyism? Are you suggesting people are drawn from a particular cohort?” a palpably irritated Cannon replies, putting his host on the defensive: “There’s a perception. I’m not saying that it’s true.”
It’s an unnecessary, indeed slightly unseemly, contribution by Ó hEadhra, distracting from a crucial issue. Sometimes there’s no need to raise the temperature.
Not everyone is interested in the presidency. “I’m not running for president,” Oliver Callan (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays) declares on Monday’s show. “I’m not moving to another channel, nor am I going to be the next host of Liveline.” All of which will be a relief to an RTÉ management already dealing with Claire Byrne’s impending defection to Newstalk and the ongoing real-time auditions to replace Joe Duffy.
Callan offers a sardonic take on Byrne’s move, dubbing her “Ireland’s smartest” and “girlboss”, while voicing bewilderment that she’s still presenting Radio 1’s Today show for the moment: “It’s a bit weird, but what do I know?” He might have a few awkward encounters with his fellow presenter after that, all right.
But Callan is more focused on Byrne’s successor, chatting to the RTÉ newscaster David McCullagh, who takes over from Byrne as Today host in November. Far from being an exercise in Montrose logrolling, however, it’s an oddly stilted conversation.
Callan quizzes his guest about his career in a dutiful fashion more suited to the “tell us something about yourself” section of a job interview. McCullagh, in turn, answers with the kind of swashbuckling attitude of a man under interrogation. “We can find out who you are,” Callan suggests. “Oh God, no, I’ll be doing my very best to make sure that does not happen,” comes the horrified reply.
As first impressions go it’s not the most promising for a broadcaster about to take over a top-rated talk-radio show. But if McCullagh is guarded when talking about himself, he sounds more relaxed when discussing topics such as his television documentary on Éamon de Valera: as a seasoned newsman he’s more comfortable pointing the spotlight on others, an asset in his new role on Today.
McCullagh also allows glimpses of his personal side as the interview continues, speaking about his sadness at the death of his dog: “That really knocked the stuffing out of me, which I was surprised about.” Callan sounds grateful, or maybe just relieved, for such small revelations: “We’re learning little tiny bits about you.”
Either way it’s an intriguing teaser for McCullagh’s forthcoming gig. As for Callan, he continues to act as an anchor in Radio 1’s unmoored schedule, though one of his remarks may set alarm bells ringing: “I’m signed on to this job until January, and sure who knows after that?” The last thing RTÉ needs is another contest for presenter.
Moment of the week
With its host’s freewheeling delivery and corny jokes, and its easy soundtrack of pop and classical standards, Marty in the Morning (Lyric FM, weekdays) provides a reliably enjoyable destination for listeners seeking a bright start to the day. Sometimes, however, Marty Whelan’s instinct to entertain trumps his better sense.
On Thursday, for instance, he plays one of his favourite tracks, Luciano Pavarotti’s rendition of the Neapolitan song Funiculì, Funiculà, its lively chorus celebrating the joys of funicular railways. All fine and well, except that Whelan airs this carefree tune the morning after the tragic events in Lisbon that left 16 people dead after one of the city’s iconic funicular trams crashed. Timing, Marty, timing.
