16 October 1997 Edition
Television: Bubblebath
By Sean O'Donaile
What is it about soap operas? They're a dirge, nobody admits to watching them yet 90% of us do. And what relevance do they have to a revolutionary organ like An Phoblacht? Fortunately or unfortunately soap operas have become as much a part of many people's lives and culture as language, sport or music.
Every soap opera tends to run along the same lines - everybody is sleeping with somebody else and the place is awash with scandal - maybe it's the secret gossip monger in us and instead of listening to what the whole parish is talking about we just have to press the zapper to see who has ``left the wife'' or who's living with another woman.
Soap operas also tend to offer us an escape from our own lives for half an hour, or three and a half hours if you're an addict, and what better way than to worry about other people's lives?
Coronation Street must take the blame of starting the rot, although in fairness it has the best actors and tends to be the most believable, although in recent months the ``smut and sex'' has crept in to attract the younger folk.
Hot on its heels is the BBC's ``Eastenders'', which is centred on a pair of ex-Paras and other such no-goods who generally have each other's babies and ``watch out for the bizzies''.
At times these programmes attract up to 20 million viewers. The Brits also produce Emmerdale Farm where we see lots of lovers in wellies and the ridiculous Brookside where the only plot we haven't' seen is an earthquake, which wouldn't be a bad idea.
We've caught on at home and RTE and Teilifis na Gaeilge now have a choice of three with Glenroe continually topping the ratings. The only event that ever occurs is Miley saying ``Holy God Biddy'' and ``you'll be the death of me yet Stephen Brennan''.
Maybe people are too brain-dead to do anything else on a Sunday night.
The Australians take the biscuit with a host of teeny bopper soaps, Neighbours and Home And Away being the most popular. You have to be beautiful to get on the screen here, wear ankle socks, carry a surf board and buy your girlfriend ice-cream at school-breaktime.
Yet I know Republicans who switch from one to the other during the ads.
My favourite has to be the classic Prisoner Cell Block H. Most would say they've seen enough prison walls without suffering this, but if the walls of Whitemoor and the screws of Long Kesh were similar to those on this soap we wouldn't need a Saoirse campaign. The cardboard sets wave in the wind, the prisoners all wear Donny Osmond cast-offs and are supposed to be as ugly and vulgar as possible. And we have our genuine bad guy in the screw Ferguson - this aspect is probably quite accurate.
Probably the most recent soap has been the week long Lady Di funeral, when pumped with endless hours of media gossip about somebody else's life, our streets resembled ghost towns on the Saturday morning of her funeral. As long as it's somebody else's problems most of us become vultures.
Speaking of soap, there was a DUP councillor blowing plenty of bubbles on RTE 1's excellent Leargas (Tuesdays). Presented by Pat Butler, Leargas is bi-lingual and takes us far beyond the tweed jacket and bualadh bos image of Irish.
Butler was looking at the towns of Portavogie and Portaferry on the Ards Peninsula. Portavogie is ``staunch'', has lots of churches, gospel halls, 1690 murals and no pubs, while Portaferry has as many pubs as Portavogie has churches, and an aquarium, which annoys our DUP man who says it's not fair that ``they're getting all the money and we got none''. He also offers us such wisdom as ``the Irish language is no good to nobody'' and ``Gaelic football is a political process''. It is this enlightened mentality which has led to Ards' three hurling clubs being repeatedly burnt out by loyalists, but this doesn't deter them from providing the vast bulk of the Down hurling team.
Much of the programme centred on the Scots-Ulster dialect, which has been given official recognition by Ards council, but is dismissed by most as bad English and ``hogwash''. For my part I learned a few lines over the summer - ``I fell inta da shuck and was up to my uxters in clabber!''
Let's Talk is a new BBC series, presented by ex-RUC man David Dunseith, but that's a bit unfair as he is quite objective, and despite having its stock Nor'n Ir'n characters is a hell of an improvement on Questions and Answers.
Finally, Provos, BBC, came to an end, with the boys in the wooly faces showing off up in the bog, and Gerry and Martin in the early 80s before they found fashion. The most interesting item must surely have been John Major telling how he ``forwarded'' the Process and flapping his wings when he was forced to contradict Hugh Annesley on the decommissioning fiasco.
All in all, not bad, republicans did get to put their perspective and it kept us away from the soaps for a few hours.
What is it about soap operas? They're a dirge, nobody admits to watching them yet 90% of us do. And what relevance do they have to a revolutionary organ like An Phoblacht? Fortunately or unfortunately soap operas have become as much a part of many people's lives and culture as language, sport or music.
Every soap opera tends to run along the same lines - everybody is sleeping with somebody else and the place is awash with scandal - maybe it's the secret gossip monger in us and instead of listening to what the whole parish is talking about we just have to press the zapper to see who has ``left the wife'' or who's living with another woman.
Soap operas also tend to offer us an escape from our own lives for half an hour, or three and a half hours if you're an addict, and what better way than to worry about other people's lives?
Coronation Street must take the blame of starting the rot, although in fairness it has the best actors and tends to be the most believable, although in recent months the ``smut and sex'' has crept in to attract the younger folk.
Hot on its heels is the BBC's ``Eastenders'', which is centred on a pair of ex-Paras and other such no-goods who generally have each other's babies and ``watch out for the bizzies''.
At times these programmes attract up to 20 million viewers. The Brits also produce Emmerdale Farm where we see lots of lovers in wellies and the ridiculous Brookside where the only plot we haven't' seen is an earthquake, which wouldn't be a bad idea.
We've caught on at home and RTE and Teilifis na Gaeilge now have a choice of three with Glenroe continually topping the ratings. The only event that ever occurs is Miley saying ``Holy God Biddy'' and ``you'll be the death of me yet Stephen Brennan''.
Maybe people are too brain-dead to do anything else on a Sunday night.
The Australians take the biscuit with a host of teeny bopper soaps, Neighbours and Home And Away being the most popular. You have to be beautiful to get on the screen here, wear ankle socks, carry a surf board and buy your girlfriend ice-cream at school-breaktime.
Yet I know Republicans who switch from one to the other during the ads.
My favourite has to be the classic Prisoner Cell Block H. Most would say they've seen enough prison walls without suffering this, but if the walls of Whitemoor and the screws of Long Kesh were similar to those on this soap we wouldn't need a Saoirse campaign. The cardboard sets wave in the wind, the prisoners all wear Donny Osmond cast-offs and are supposed to be as ugly and vulgar as possible. And we have our genuine bad guy in the screw Ferguson - this aspect is probably quite accurate.
Probably the most recent soap has been the week long Lady Di funeral, when pumped with endless hours of media gossip about somebody else's life, our streets resembled ghost towns on the Saturday morning of her funeral. As long as it's somebody else's problems most of us become vultures.
Speaking of soap, there was a DUP councillor blowing plenty of bubbles on RTE 1's excellent Leargas (Tuesdays). Presented by Pat Butler, Leargas is bi-lingual and takes us far beyond the tweed jacket and bualadh bos image of Irish.
Butler was looking at the towns of Portavogie and Portaferry on the Ards Peninsula. Portavogie is ``staunch'', has lots of churches, gospel halls, 1690 murals and no pubs, while Portaferry has as many pubs as Portavogie has churches, and an aquarium, which annoys our DUP man who says it's not fair that ``they're getting all the money and we got none''. He also offers us such wisdom as ``the Irish language is no good to nobody'' and ``Gaelic football is a political process''. It is this enlightened mentality which has led to Ards' three hurling clubs being repeatedly burnt out by loyalists, but this doesn't deter them from providing the vast bulk of the Down hurling team.
Much of the programme centred on the Scots-Ulster dialect, which has been given official recognition by Ards council, but is dismissed by most as bad English and ``hogwash''. For my part I learned a few lines over the summer - ``I fell inta da shuck and was up to my uxters in clabber!''
Let's Talk is a new BBC series, presented by ex-RUC man David Dunseith, but that's a bit unfair as he is quite objective, and despite having its stock Nor'n Ir'n characters is a hell of an improvement on Questions and Answers.
Finally, Provos, BBC, came to an end, with the boys in the wooly faces showing off up in the bog, and Gerry and Martin in the early 80s before they found fashion. The most interesting item must surely have been John Major telling how he ``forwarded'' the Process and flapping his wings when he was forced to contradict Hugh Annesley on the decommissioning fiasco.
All in all, not bad, republicans did get to put their perspective and it kept us away from the soaps for a few hours.