THE High Court list can rarely have made such happy reading. For the directors of Radio Ireland, the timing of the Proinsias De Rossa libel cafe and of Eamon Dunphy's appearance on the witness stand last week was serendipity made in PR heaven.
It meant that the programme he co presents with Ann Marie Hourihane, The Last Word, was yesterday's best flagged programme on the new national commercial station - a distinction that should surely have belonged in the one off satirical revival, Scrap Ireland.
By contrast, Scrap Ireland itself was something of a casualty in a surprisingly weak Radio Ireland publicity campaign (I like the logo, but hate the billboard). Just like the programmes we heard in the Paddy's Day start up, we can only expect improvement over the coming weeks.
We're unlikely to hear the likes of Scrap Ireland again - though I reckon McColgan should consider selling off the Riverdance rights to finance luring Dermot Morgan, Gerry Stembridge and Co. back to the studio. Thank goodness, the station's opening hour at midnight on Sunday was of the same ephemeral quality.
That programme, much of it broadcast from a "pod" suspended over the madding crowd in Dublin's Jervis Street Centre, gave new meaning to the word "shambles". The first hour included plenty of feedback (none of it from the audience, unfortunately), plenty more self promotion, a minimalist presidential welcome and even a rare interview with major Radio Ireland investor Dermot Desmond - who failed to answer a question about whether he is actually interested in radio in any sense other than financial. Eddie Irvine's brief contribution should ensure his absence from future guest lists.
It all opened with one of those tiresome "collages" of voices from all over the country explaining why you'll never beat the Irish. Such cultural jingoism was splendidly sent up by Scrap Ireland's interview with "the Teilifis na Gaeilge viewer", a man delighted to have his native culture restored to him unfortunately, he's Jose from Galicia - "since I am coming in Hireland I am watching TnaG" - and his weekly epiphany comes from following his beloved Deportivo La Coruna on TnaG's Spanish soccer programme.
TnaG got off easy - the only person or institution lampooned more gently on Scrap Ireland was Radio Ireland itsell, subject of a middling rip off of Michael Collins based on the Dan Collins saga. Otherwise, this was the sort of show that used to have the RTE lawyers reaching for the tranquillisers.
IT STARTED with Mary Robinson being interviewed by Charlie Bird: "I have achieved everything I set out to do" - "more than everything", Charlie interrupts - then the President reveals that her ambition for a wider platform involves hosting Liveline.
Some sketches were very, very funny - I loved Michael Noonan, passing the buck and rationalising his sins in the confessional - while others (e.g., young Captain Ryan in the Ryanair cockpit, Albert Reynolds on his qualifications for high office) were more remarkable for their jaw dropping nastiness. Morgan's return as C J Haughey, reminiscing about the great Haughey presidents of the past (Abraham Haughey, John F Haughey, Anwar Haughey victim of a revolt in the Cairo cumann), nearly prompted a wee tear of nostalgia.
The gang probably couldn't sustain this level of excellence every week, but they'd still be better than most of what surrounded them yesterday. On Entertainment Today, Philip Boucher Hayes made me yearn for the probing questions of Mike Murphy.
Though meticulously pre produced, the programme was based on a real time, "live" conceit the host was supposedly walking around Dublin, meeting various writers and artists in highly appropriate locations - a (deliberately?) surreal choice of formats on the one day of the year when you definitely cannot walk from Abbey Street to D'Olier Street in four minutes, nor have a quiet chat in Bewleys with Paul Durcan.
The morning's live programmes need to work on their pace; maybe a computer can tell you how long a song will be on, but only experience allows you to predict how long an interview should take.
Daybreak, in particular, saw Emily O'Reilly and Gavin Duffy charge breathlessly through news stories, then chat pointlessly about whose picture was in the paper.
O'Reilly surely set some sort of record for mentioning the name of a newspaper - in fairness, the Sunday Business Post had a hell of a story - but otherwise the show seemed to be waiting for its "Talkback" section with Bertie Ahern. When it came, Duffy gave the Fianna Fail leader some stick, and O'Reilly cut in: "We sold this as a gentle interview." To whom was this sale made?
HOWEVER, hitches aside, and notwithstanding a nagging sense of insufficient news resources, Daybreak and its hosts showed some promise. The music led Cliona didn't; it seemed to wear the "lightweight" label proudly. Robbie Irwin's afternoon sports show was similar - compellent enough, but making no case for a switch from RTE or elsewhere.
In general, the soft rock played all day made me feel insulted on behalf on my generation, and wonder about Radio Ireland's claims of "difference". Why did we buy this line, anyway, from the purveyors of the pastiche Riverdance? John Kelly and Donal Dineen in the evenings should improve matters, but last night they went out after my deadline, so watch this space (or, better yet, listen to them).
The Last Word, which squeezed in before that deadline, briefly shone a strange light through the musical darkness, when Eamon Dunphy played a recording of his pal John Giles singing Unforgettable. "How did you get him to do that?" Brenda Fricker asked. "Three Bacardi and Cokes." Otherwise, it was the same old music and a long, shockingly amiable chat with Jim Sheridan and Brenda Fricker. Could it be that The Last Word will actually reveal how very many people Dunphy actually likes, and how effusively he can express that affection?
He did call this "a special, gentle edition" - so he's been shopping at Emily O'Reilly's supermarket. Perhaps he missed Ann Marie Hourihane, who was away on RTE TV duty, and whom he eulogised as "the beautiful and brilliant Ann Marie".
A series of short satirical sketches, written by the B&B Ann Marie, suffered a bit by comparison with Scrap Ireland - and covered similar ground - but Michael D's fantasy of his presidential victory speech was uplifting: "I will arise and go now, something, something, Inisfree."
But by contrast with Scrap, this show actually included a plug for a TnaG documentary. Like all of Radio Ireland's programmes, it was scarred by the heavy advertising permitted for commercial radio. And like RTE, it was Bank Holiday Bland.
