TV REVIEW:
Dragons' DenRTÉ1, Thursday,
HeatRTÉ1, Tuesday,
Neven's Food from the Sun, RTÉ1, Wednesday,
Billy Connolly: Journey to the Edge of the World,UTV, Thursday
WHAT'S THE OPPOSITE of zeitgeist? Anti-zeitgeist? Postgeist? Zeitscheiße? I only ask because rarely has a new programme threatened to be as out of tune with the times as Dragons' Den, RTÉ's version of the successful entrepreneurial reality show which arrived on our screens this week. The UK version knew no bounds when it came to fawning over the wisdom and abilities of their panel of businesspeople, whose job it was to pick over the inadequacies of potential entrepreneurs and inventors before deciding whether or not to invest. But this week sees the Irish people's respect for our business class at what might politely be described as a low ebb, and this version is even sponsored by a bank, for goodness sake. Given the "current economic climate" (the euphemism of choice in this show), it seems like Dragons' Dendidn't just miss the boat, but arrived for departure only to find the port was closed.
Despite the inclement conditions, however, the five dragons – Black Tie’s Niall O’Farrell; Needahotel.com founder Sarah Newman; media and hospitality entrepreneur Gavin Duffy; Smarthomes founder Seán Gallagher; and Bobby Kerr, chief executive of the Insomnia coffee chain – were introduced in various states of opulent richness, playing golf, clay-pigeon shooting, leaping out of helicopters, prancing around on horses, that kind of thing. No signs of trimming back the excess around here, then.
Things got off to an amusing start, though, with one of those barmy inventions that barmy inventors are supposed to slave over in their garage. A pair of Limerick entrepreneurs, determined that nobody will ever fumble in a greasy till again, and not just because of the "current economic climate", showed off their magic money-cleaning till technology, which cleansed cash with UV light and air filters. Money laundering not being the most stable of industries, none of the dragons pounced, but they did demonstrate a real comfort in the tried-and-tested format (mimicked so faithfully one had to wonder if the set designers, editors and cameramen came with the franchise), and displayed a flair for the requisite eye-rolling, stifled smirks, acerbic comments and pithy one-liners that the format relies on. As the pitches came and went, the dragons' personalities and camaraderie became more and more evident, and just as TV3's The Apprenticesucceeded due to the astute casting of Bill Cullen, this import looked like it had found a winning panel of dragons.
It was in the final pitch, however, that Dragons' Dendemonstrated that maybe it didn't miss the boat after all. Another pair of Limerick-based entrepreneurs, Donal O'Connor and Michael O'Donnell, presented Pedigreecattle.ie, a kind of Daft.ie for cattle breeders, and their knowledge and enthusiasm was in marked contrast to many of the other budding businesspeople. After a bidding war between the dragons, the two men got their investment, and their publicity.
It was not just fitting that the first successful entrepreneurs of the series were involved in a mix of technology and agriculture, though the symbolism of the Celtic Cow being born in the bloody aftermath of the Celtic Tiger is obvious and oddly comforting. Above all, their success showed that this incarnation of the show, rather than proving a mistimed paean to the glory days, might instead be a salve for these times, a source of encouragement and hope when it’s badly needed, showing that bright people with good ideas can still succeed.
And even if the programme crushes more dreams than it fosters, there’s no denying it’s entertaining telly.
SELF-MADE MILLIONAIRESforging TV careers are a relatively recent phenomenon, and essentially the various dragons and apprentice-hunters are following the well-worn path of the celebrity chef. So many of them are parlaying their culinary skills into TV careers, you'd swear most of them actually wanted to be the new Ryan Tubridy, coveting Ifta awards rather than Michelin stars. Judging by the new series of Heat, the slickly produced kitchen-based reality show in which celebrated chefs Kevin Thornton and Kevin Dundon train amateur chefs before pitching them into a competitive cook-off, Tubbers won't be going anywhere soon, unfortunately – the two Kevins are more comfortable in the heat of the kitchen than under the heat of the camera lights.
It is, though, a solid formula, with John Kelly's dry narration lending a solid spine to proceedings, and while it makes kitchens out to be just a teeny bit less dramatic than RTÉ's other monosyllabic kitchen-based series, the combustible drama Raw, it's a consistently entertaining production, more edible comfort food than over-ambitious fusion cuisine, if you will.
MEANWHILE, FAR FROMthe heat of a restaurant kitchen was Neven Maguire's new series, Neven's Food from the Sun, a conventional, comforting kind of cookery programme, in which the ever-cordial Cavan chef visits Majorca, takes a look at some local ingredient, – fish in this episode's case – and then returns to his reassuringly traditional kitchen, where he rustles up a tasty-looking meal. So pleasant is Maguire that it's a real struggle to imagine him chiding his kitchen charges, never mind swearing at them.
Despite the Majorcan theme and a 24-style split-screen effect, this was a throwback to cookery programmes from a pre-Ramsay era – you know, for people who just want to cook. They are still out there, right? Thought so.
EVEN MORE AMIABLEthan Maguire is the indefatigable entertainer Billy Connolly, who also starred in a rather old-fashioned and likable programme this week. In Journey to The Edge of The World, he continues his transformation into a less self-regarding Michael Palin by travelling for 10 weeks along the Northwest Passage, visiting along the way those remote, romantic extremes at the fringe of Canada that people in the rest of the world rarely hear about, much less visit. The first episode saw him stop off in Nova Scotia, Cape Breton, New Brunswick and Newfoundland, sampling the variety of accents along the Maritimes, from that trademark Canadian long "O" in Halifax, to very familiar accents in the strongly Scottish, Acadian French and Irish communities further north. This is an area that welcomed countless immigrants in its time, but is now seeing its own population migrate to the big cities as the traditional fishing industry suffers a prolonged death due to overfishing – "a world that seems to be slipping away from them", as Connolly says. It truly is a singular corner of the world, and while this programme is surprisingly unadventurous in its depiction of Connolly's epic adventure, often resembling a tourist board travelogue, the great Scot manages to infuse it with a life-affirming vigour.
Fighting in the streets Turning violence into a spectator sport
I had a funny feeling when I saw ads for TV3's new crime documentary series,
Lawless Ireland, that it would be heavy on the lawlessness and a little light on analysis of the problems or suggested solutions for crime. Maybe it was the regulation ominous soundtrack that tipped me off, or possibly the scaremongering voiceover that made me lower my expectations, or perhaps it was the repeated clips of drunken people beating each other up that confirmed my suspicions, but mostly I think it was because it was on TV3. Giving Vincent Browne a nightly news programme is not enough to confer credibility on a station that, when given the choice between wrestling with issues or just wrestling, is only ever likely to go one way.
This brainless series featured gory footage of street fights and sprawling riots, and host and producer Brian O'Donovan (right) struggled to disguise his breathless enthusiasm while commentating on all this "truly shocking" violence. It's hard enough to tolerate O'Donovan's tutting disapproval of onlookers and those who pull their cameraphones out to film these fights when he is making an entire series putting exactly that footage on national television, but when his disgust is so patently contrived it's nigh on unbearable. "The Celtic Tiger might be no more, but there are still plenty of wild animals out there," he said as slow-mo repeats allowed us to really appreciate another kick or punch, at which point I half expected You've Been Framed-style canned laughter to erupt.
Prime Time did an excellent programme on this very topic a few years ago, which genuinely shocked with its footage from towns and cities around the country, and managed to inform with a debate and insightful analysis. Here, a few interviews with experts and victims strained to provide a patina of respectability, but the analysis was restricted to the rather self-evident point that Irish society has a drinking problem. Street violence as entertainment makes for unpleasant television, but add in a healthy dose of hypocrisy and you've got a truly noxious concoction.