Gaelic in the Joy (RTÉ One, Wednesday 9.35pm) jogs on to the screen with the faintest clamour of controversy. The original idea with this fly-on-the-wall series was for inmates at Mountjoy Prison to take on the prison guards at football, with All-Ireland winner Philly McMahon as a mentor. But the plans were reportedly derailed when McMahon’s co-presenter, Rory O’Connor, performed a skit at which some officers took offence.
None of which impinges on an enjoyable first episode in which O’Connor and McMahon visit the inner city jail and recruit prisoners to their scratch football team. There is a version of this film that forgets about sport and dives straight for the heartstrings. Here, schmaltz is thankfully kept at bay, the inmates shying away from self-pity.
O’Connor is a divisive comedian. Some consider his Rory’s Stories YouTube skits delightful, while others would happily chuck his comedy into solitary confinement and throw away the key. But unencumbered by the need to be funny, he is likable and empathetic – and accomplished at drawing the prisoners out of themselves.
He is also haunted by the feeling that, like them, he could easily have gone astray and ended up in a bad place. As does McMahon, whose brother struggled with heroin before dying at the age of 31. “I’ve grown up in Ballymun, where you have to grow up fast,” he says.
Restaurateur Gráinne O’Keefe: I cut out sugar from my diet and here’s how it went
Ireland’s new dating scene: Finding love the old-fashioned way
‘We’re getting closer to it being realised’: Ambitious plans for Dublin lido gather momentum
From enchanted forests to winter wonderlands: 12 Christmas experiences to try around Ireland
They meet the governor of Mountjoy, Eddie Mullins, who has some words of caution. He refers to the inmates as “the lads” and sees them as human beings to be rehabilitated rather than villains to be punished. Yet he is cognisant, too, of the pain many have caused. “You always have to be mindful of victims. There are people across society who have lifelong trauma because of criminal behaviour,” he says.
The inmates are a phlegmatic bunch. “Four years for money laundering. Welcome to prison – that’s what you get for being a bold boy,” says Ross. “Drugs took over my life,” says Brandon.
It is revealed that 80 per cent of prisoners at Mountjoy are in for drug-related offences. “Drugs are a massive problem,” says a security guard. “The prisoners are quite ingenious. It’s like trying to hold back the tide.”
McMahon and O’Connor’s players will be tested for drugs and, if found to be using, are off the team. The atmosphere, though, is initially upbeat. The team performs well when some of McMahon’s old Dublin team-mates – with 50 All-Irelands between them – arrive for a game in the prison courtyard.
It is unclear whether the drama around O’Connor’s prison guard skit will be a significant talking point in the remaining two episodes. Out of the gate, though, this is a refreshing documentary that humanises the prisoners without trying to obscure their crimes. O’Connor and McMahon, meanwhile, are a double act with potential. It would be great to see more of them on television.
