All Hollywood execs understand, as noted by the late American scriptwriter William Goldman, that their roles are fleeting – a sentiment shared by every Irish radio host who acknowledges they’ll eventually be tasked with covering the National Ploughing Championships.
Whilst this inevitable responsibility isn’t considered the worst of assignments, reactions to this rural extravaganza vary widely. Some, such as RTÉ’s Gaelic games commentator Marty Morrissey, approach it with unabashed enthusiasm, whilst others, like Ray D’Arcy, report from the event with noticeable fascination. However, rarely does one exhibit the extent of excitement displayed by Oliver Callan of RTÉ Radio 1, whose energy during the event makes even the buoyant Morrissey seem as disconnected as an automated call service.
In the on-site big top – facetiously named“the RTÉ scandal memorial tent” – Callan opens Wednesday’s broadcast from the event held in Ratheniska, County Laois, with a performance that deviates significantly from his usual radio persona, seeming more akin to a stand-up comedian desperate for easy amusement. He paints a picture of the attendees, suggesting they’re there solely to “take in deep breaths of manure and diesel fumes for three days under the scorching sun”. The show host, a native of Monaghan, jestingly refers to his audience as “culchies”.
Sticking to this comic tone, Callan drolly lambasts the entire political arena, using clichéd stereotypes and canned impersonations. “I believe I’ve ridiculed everyone equally,” he quips, despite the lack of audible laughter implying his jokes may not be landing as intended. The loudest applause during his segment is heard when Callan hands over to the Limerick band, Kingfishr, to perform.
Callan’s performance may be unusually lacking in confidence this time, but it’s not the norm for this typically bold and adaptable studio presenter. Despite his struggle to balance both listeners and an in-person audience in this situation, Callan regains some level of assurance when interacting with his guests. During a light-hearted exchange with nomadic hurling manager Davy Fitzgerald, he quips, “You seem to harbour a considerable number of grievances.”
However, the overarching tone of the show remains one of gentle confusion. This is exemplified when champion sheep shearer George Graham suggests that anyone, “including Oliver Callan,” can shear sheep. With a hint of embarrassment, Callan responds, “I’m not so sure about that.”
Nevertheless, Callan can likely chalk this off as an off day. His in-depth conversation with author Roddy Doyle on the previous day’s episode showcases the qualities that have elevated Callan’s show above those of his predecessor, Ryan Tubridy.
Listening to Doyle discuss the creation and development of his iconic fictional character Paula Spencer, Callan exhibits interested tact. He enables his guest to vividly remember the Irish community’s angry response to the depiction of domestic violence in Family, the 1994 TV series where Paula, and her abusive husband Charlo, made their debut.
When addressing the violent protests in Dublin from the previous year, Callan is careful not to moralise excessively. He subtly suggests that socio-economic issues along with far-right instigation were factors. This interview is inviting yet intellectual, and reminiscent of Doyle’s own body of work.
More impressively, this isn’t a solitary example of Callan’s prowess. Just a fortnight ago, his extensive chat with broadcaster and author Graham Norton highlighted his consummate skills as an interviewer. Even when he seems slightly overwhelmed by the formidable geography of Co Laois, he shines when it comes to conducting profound discussions. To borrow a familiar phrase, you might say Callan is uniquely incomparable in his area of expertise.
At the Ploughing, while many RTÉ celebrities have enjoyable experiences, it’s a little different for Beta Da Silva, who hosts 2FM Drive during the weekdays. Upon getting a positive response from his listeners, he expressed a sigh of relief as he wasn’t certain about their reaction. His apprehension is understandable given that the programme’s last regular hosts, podcast pair the 2 Johnnies, easily adapted to the Ploughing with their spirited rural flair. On the other hand, Da Silva, an Irish host of African descent with a unique Dublin accent, has built his reputation by promoting city styles like hip-hop on The New Music Show. Consequently, he doesn’t fit the typical visitor’s image at the yearly rural lifestyle festival.
Despite this, Da Silva wholeheartedly participates, his popular phrase “big, big love” reflecting his friendly radio personality. He is accompanied by Brad Heidi, a singer-songwriter who serves as a co-host and occasional performer for the day, which aids in acclimating to the unfamiliar surroundings. While it’s not Da Silva’s everyday environment – he usually spends his time at home discovering new music – his experience was enjoyable. Reflecting on his visit in the next day’s studio session, he enthusiastically recollected seeing tractors and horses, but expressed disappointment at not exploring more exhibits. At the very least, he comes across more like a ploughing celeb than Callan.
As for whether Da Silva can settle comfortably in his current position or whether he’s merely a placeholder, that’s a more considerable issue. After the 2 Johnnies left 2FM in May, making way for Lottie Ryan and David O’Reilly, which sparked departures of Jennifer Zamparelli, Doireann Garrihy and Donncha O’Callaghan in July, thus draining the station of its star names, Da Silva stepped in.
The case seems to be that of a station filling spaces whenever they emerge, somewhat similar to a soccer team filled with injured players. However, Da Silva’s leaning towards melodies rather than conversations is a stark contrast to the continuous chatter of the 2 Johnnies. This recent promotion of Da Silva serves as a heartening recognition of Ireland’s multifaceted culture. Da Silva’s venture into Ploughing emphasises that there is a place for every voice.