This musical goes beyond the cringe with the gay jokes
People in Ireland love to laugh, the comedian Kevin Hart once said, before adding that we also love broad comedy.
People in Ireland love to laugh, the comedian Kevin Hart once said, before adding that we also love broad comedy.
We're that far into the heatwave now that it seems legitimate to fantasise that this is not just a warm spell but permanent climate change.
Good Girls Available on Tuesday
England's 'stately homo', Quentin Crisp, once said that "if you simply wait long enough in this life, you will find yourselves having travelled from the outskirts of acceptability to the very heart of...
It's the hottest day of the year and, despite the number of parks and green spaces in Dublin, the epicentre of the city's summer cool now appears to be Grand Canal Dock. This is the fault line of...
The idea bubbled up, unbidden, from the recesses of Pauline Bewick's subconscious and onto the canvas: A man holding a baby. An image of fatherhood. Simple, beautiful, quietly moving and so different from her usual motifs of motherhood, she says. She wondered if it was in some way "predictive".
You know a story has gone global when Kay Burley sweeps into town to cover it. Sky's doyenne of live news has come to Ireland to ascertain the mood in the hours before the referendum vote and, as she travels from Co Clare to Dublin, sees "a divide between the city and country" and reckons the vote is "going to be incredibly tight" - predictions loudly contradicted by the exit polls a few hours later.
We've still got it, Europe. That, mainly, was what Eurovision 2018 seemed to prove. Economists talk earnestly about wage increases or housing being the last piece of the recovery puzzle, but those in the know understand that Ireland will never be back where she was until she can power ballad the rest of the continent into submission, as she did in the 1990s.
Cargo (2018) Available Friday
Six months ago, a group of friends rounded on me in a bar and demanded I go to England with them for the royal wedding. They had already booked their tickets, they told me, and the plan was to get up early on the Saturday and get the train from London to Windsor for the parade itself. It would be silly, camp, drunken fun, they assured me, and we'd be witnessing a little bit of history.
'Is this genetic?" Ten years ago this month that sentence jumped off the page at actor and...
The sunlight floods the room, just as it did during every day of the shoot for Making The Grade, (see review, top right) and Ken Wardrop, the film's director, emits his own distinctively sunny warmth.
Just behind the building where I live in the city centre, on the fault line between what you might call dirty old town and the tech hub, a new development opened recently. The luxury...
They say bad news comes in threes, and so it was for Blathnaid Ni Chofaigh and her sister Siobhan.
At the height of the hysteria around Conor McGregor's arrest in New York last Thursday night, a tweet did the rounds, purportedly from Donald Trump, saying that he was 'appalled' and calling...
Pride, one look around Dublin at the moment will tell you, has gone from counter-culture to corporate in the blink of an eye.
The little lots of memorabilia look strangely touching; nothing dates like sporting equipment, but equally nothing is quite as redolent of youth. To the naked eye, they were just a battered looking tennis racket and a few tatty whites. But if you grew up in the 1980s, these pieces of Boris Becker's old kit were relics of sporting nostalgia.
It was the lavish refurbishments, rather than any particular apparition in the sky, that gave the people of Knock the impression they were in for The Second Papal Coming.
It felt like the dancers should have worn black lingerie - as a respectful sign of mourning - but at Peter Stringfellow's eponymous club just off Leicester Square it was business as usual last week.
Looking back, author Heather Chaplin sometimes wonders: "who was that person?"
You wouldn't guess that it's been "the toughest week in a long time" for Claire Byrne. Though a vomiting bug laid waste to her young household, the presenter seems as crisply poised and polished as ever, as she strolls through the spring sunlight toward the RTE canteen.
The woman with the loud American accent leans against the railings of the park and sobs into the phone. "You could open the stove from the bed," she tells whoever is listening. "For €1,500 a month. Is this how I'm going to have to live?"
In the spring of 2008 RTE radio was lit up by one the most riveting interviews that had been broadcast in a long time. Marian Finucane was speaking to her good friend Nuala O'Faolain about the latter's diagnosis with terminal cancer. In the interview the Are You Somebody? author delivered a heartfelt and, at times, heartbreaking meditation on death and dying, scything through the worn-out cliches around the subjects.
Earlier this year, I went on Claire Byrne Live, to talk about the upcoming referendum.
There was a time, not that long ago, when the word gig still held a certain rock star resonance. When I got my first writing job, a year after college, my friends and I proudly trumpeted that now I had a gig, as opposed to something as tediously permanent and pensionable as a career. We were children of the Celtic Tiger and we took a lot for granted.
She’s been a model, a singer, and a reality-TV star, but acting was always her first love. Due to the ‘carnage’ of her teens, she’s never pursued her dream — until now. Nadia Forde tells Donal Lynch about her debut acting role, dealing with catty Irish models, how she’s working on her relationship with her dad — and why she doesn’t worry about her rugby player fiance
Even amid the ridiculously wealthy, blue-sky thinking billionaires of Silicon Valley, Elon Musk has always stood out like a beacon. When the South African entrepreneur recently launched the world's most powerful rocket and released footage of his self-invented electric car, the Tesla, floating in the cosmos, to strains of David Bowie's Space Oddity, these were just the latest stunts in a career built on outrageous statements and jaw-dropping engineering.
It felt strange to hear Leo Varadkar, that unabashed champion of the middle class, take what sounded like such a strong stance on homelessness last week. What an unsexy, un-Instagrammable, unsolvable, non-Leo theme, you couldn't help thinking. A serious comedown after all of those glamorous foreign trips. But in he waded.
It was as though, for a brief moment, RTE had forgotten its lines. When a big organisation like this is accused of sexism - as so many (including the national broadcaster itself) have in the past six months - the acceptable response has been to don the proverbial sackcloth and ashes, institute an internal inquiry, and publicly promise to do better.
When English opera star Anna Patalong takes to the National Concert Hall stage this summer, her performance will represent not only a musical highlight of the season - her voice lifts the spirits and beautifully inhabits every role - but also, for the singer herself, a type of homecoming.
Already, with a couple of months still to go, the abortion referendum feels like our own Vietnam; a war that will never end.
Is there a moment when you realise that you've become slightly brain damaged from social media? Or does the brain damage itself cloud the reality of the onset?
Strolling through the centre of Dublin with David McSavage you realise that, despite his lifelong best efforts, the campaign trail touch has somehow been passed down the line to him. He would make a wonderful politician, a stellar addition to the family business.
The moments when winter sports capture the imagination of the general public are few and far between.
It would give you some hope that last week the biggest story on social media wasn't about which famous man had been a sex pest or Conor McGregor's shameless shenanigans. Eclipsing both of those was the fevered discussion of Cat Person, a short story by Kristen Roupenian, which appeared in The New Yorker and for a brief, shining moment the piece turned the screaming echo chamber of Twitter into a sort of literary salon. Suddenly, everyone had an opinion on Margot and Robert and their horribly awkward sexual encounter.
Milly Tuomey was a beautiful child, the kind that you might expect to see in a film or in an ad campaign. Her cherubic looks should have been beside the point last week but her unhappiness with them gave the story of her suicide another disturbing texture. Her youth was the most shocking part of all, however.
It feels like we are in a panto moment. Somehow it has survived Pixar movies, recession and scandal and emerged into the modern world stronger than ever. Panto teaches young people about drama - it is the first taste of theatre for many of them - and reminds older people of the importance of silliness.
The Light House cinema in Dublin put 1970s classic Network on again recently. I took a friend who had never seen it. When they got to that famous scene where Howard Beale urges his viewers to go to the window and scream "I'm mad as hell and I can't take it any more" she turned to me and whispered "that's pretty much what's happening now".
When Ratko Mladic was sentenced to life imprisonment at the Hague last week, the news was met with scenes of jubilation in Bosnia. CNN showed pictures of old women in headscarves dancing in the street.
A moving evening at City Hall in Cork gave real meaning to the word inclusion.
It was late Thursday night when a friend texted to say that Louis CK was the latest man caught in a sex scandal. "He was genuinely funny. Soon there won't be anything left on Netflix," she grumbled, and it was hard to disagree, but, to be fair, the scandals have been at least as riveting as anything in the cinema at the moment. Anyway who needs Hollywood when we've had our homegrown...
Kevin Spacey's mangled gangster brogue from Ordinary Decent Criminal may go down as one of the worst Irish accents in celluloid history - but the film saw the now disgraced star form ties in Dublin which led to him returning here at every opportunity over a near 20-year period.
Hopes for a successful mediation of the bitter dispute between a son and his mother, concerning ownership of the well-known Kilkenny group of luxury design stores, have receded following the breakdown of talks.
There was widespread disgust last week when Kevin Spacey announced that he was coming out - or "choosing to live as a gay man", as he put it - at the same moment as he acknowledged attempting to have sex with the then 14-year-old actor Anthony Rapp.
For discerning culture vultures, the hottest ticket in London last Friday night was undoubtedly Jodie Foster's appearance at the screening in the BFI's South Bank cinema of the horror classic, Silence of the Lambs. It has been a quarter of a century since the film came out, sweeping all the major Oscar categories for the first time for any film since Ben-Hur, and even today it still grips audiences like a jolt of scalp-prickling terror. The film's director, Jonathan Demme, died earlier this year and it was partly in tribute to him that Foster agreed to attempt to articulate the film's complicated legacy.
It was a moment that Caitriona Perry could hardly have anticipated. Invited into the Oval Office to witness the first call between Donald Trump and the newly-elected Leo Varadkar, RTE's Washington Correspondent suddenly, momentously, found herself the focus of a comment from Trump that would make headlines around the world. It began innocuously enough. Trump told the Taoiseach that:...
Can a straight person ever really get away with saying 'faggot'? That is the burning question posed by the video of Conor McGregor repeatedly using the word to motivate one of his minions during a UFC bout this past week.
Is it worth it, young GAA stars must wonder. They give their blood, sweat and tears to the parish, receive no money and all but fleeting local stardom. But for the rest of their lives, if they should ever happen to slip up in any way, their names may well end up emblazoned all across the media, their infamy deepened by the mention of a few ancient inter-county medals.
Sometimes, how thoroughly, completely, irrevocably past it you are just creeps up on you. Until recently, I sort of thought I could sort of fool a lot of people into thinking I was still sort of young and with-it.
Can you still love someone who has committed a terrible crime? That is the stark question posed by Ann Marie O'Donnell in a new film, Property of the State, which dramatises the life and crimes of her brother, Brendan.
For Dr Ciara Kelly this coming week marks the end of an era. After 16 years as a GP in Greystones, the country's foremost TV medic is giving up the day job and moving full-time into a media role - she will present a 12-2pm slot every weekday on Newstalk.
A quarter of a century after he left Ireland for the last time, disgraced former national swimming coach George Gibney still periodically makes headlines here. A reporter will track him down to a small American town where there will be outrage at his proximity to young children. A blurry photo will accompany quotes from a politician here about how the powers that be must look again into Gibney's extradition. And there will be renewed handwringing about why a man who stood accused of multiple counts of child rape was ever allowed to block a prosecution against him.
The rumour, spreading like wildfire up and down the Firhouse Road, was that the actual Tom Cruise had shown up at the opening of the new Scientology Centre in Dublin on Saturday afternoon.
'In the fullness of time," Michael D assured reporters who wondered when he would make a decision on whether to keep his word about serving just one term as the country's President. "It is just my decision; it doesn't affect anyone else."
Patrick Bergin has a magical and unexpected knack for making even the comical seem coolly menacing. On the day we meet he's been hobbled by a fall and the walking stick, ankle brace and huge overcoat give him an air of Richard Harris by way of Christian Grey. It is a suave, imposing, craggily handsome impression which belies the actual cause of the accident: he slipped on a cow pat in a field in Tipperary. I'm mewing my sympathy, while suppressing a laugh, but Patrick lets me know I needn't bother. "Just make sure you specify cow," he deadpans. "I don't do bulls**t."
It's the final few moments before the crowning moment of Miss Universe Ireland 2017, and it's not just the contestants feeling the tension. An entire audience worth of sphincter muscles have just involuntarily tightened. Toes are curling inside shoes. People can hardly look through their hands.
Seven years after Phoebe Prince's tragic death changed laws in America, and as one of her tormentors is back in court, our reporter talks to Phoebe's father and sister about life after her death
Oh how we love an impolitic designer. In a fashion world dominated by mutual backslapping and air kisses, there is a guilty pleasure in the unedited broadsides of an opinionated provocateur
If you'd asked me a few years ago, I would have confidently said I already knew "Trump Country". Back then that would still have meant martinis, models and skyscrapers - I had spent the better part of my 20s and 30s living in the shadow of Trump's Fifth Avenue building.
The video which Sinead O'Connor posted this week on Facebook made for fairly excruciating viewing, not least because it seemed like so much history repeating.
Les Dennis looks unexpectedly menacing with no hair. That might be partly the idea - he is, after all, playing Uncle Fester in The Addams Family musical at the Bord Gais Energy Theatre - but it also might explain why he won't have his picture taken until it grows back.
In a way, maybe it was a little early for the rehabilitation of Brian Cowen. Americans are just now allowing George W Bush airtime to twinkle and reminisce, but they have Donald Trump as a present-day point of comparison.
Donald Trump's America apparently doesn't make it easy for new immigrants, but he might make an exception for the beautiful ones.
It was one of those headlines that was supposed to send a chill down the spine: 'Government think tank says we should work until we're seventy.' And, at first glance, the ESRI's latest prediction of the medicine we have to take does sound a little grim.
It's just a few days before she steps on stage in The Great Gatsby but Kate Gilmore looks like she has just gone a couple of rounds with Conor McGregor. Her arms and legs are a map of purpling bruises, the result, she tells me, of a bike accident that happened a week earlier.
"Frankly Mister Shankly, this position I've held, it pays my way, but it corrodes my soul, I want to leave, you will not miss me, I want to go down in celluloid history" - The Smiths, Frankly, Mr Shankly
'Fitting in has never been so complicated," reads the tagline from Halal Daddy. It refers to the warmhearted culture clash comedy about a British Indian trying to make a life for himself in Sligo, but the sentence might be equally applicable to one of the film's young stars - actress Sarah Bolger (she plays the man's Irish girlfriend).
The world's press, including our own, was unanimous last week. Caitriona Perry, RTE's Washington bureau chief, had been humiliated and demeaned by Donald Trump's complimenting of her smile.
The late, great essayist David Foster Wallace drew a key distinction between tennis's greatest icons - Federer and Nadal. Federer, Wallace said, was the artist, the dancer, the creator. Nadal was the superhero, the athlete, the avatar for war.
The rainbow, aside from being the symbol of the gay community, also signifies a happy ending. And for the past two years, the dominant narrative in Ireland has been that gay people have reached their crock of gold.
What is it about Rachel Wyse?
The company which owns the Kilkenny stores wants to have a bitter dispute, which has torn the retail dynasty apart, to be heard in camera - with no media reporting allowed.
Obviously we are all very serious about the national conversation around drink. We have taken on board the stern lectures we get about side-effects like 'wine face' and 'early death'. We would never dream of drink-driving. A full half of us are reported to be determined to cut down. We let them euthanise Arthur's Day and we didn't even flinch. Slowly we are struggling toward what once seemed impossible: proper European moderation.
As he shuffled into court on Monday, leaning heavily on a cane and a woman who played his daughter on television, Bill Cosby appeared every bit the dignified patriarch that his defence team would portray him to be.
It was a letter signed by a long list of stars you wouldn't have even thought knew each other, from Blondie to Paloma Faith to Anna Friel.
Have you ever wanted to see your favourite dirty comedies without the dirty jokes? Sony Pictures is banking on the fact that you might. Last week it announced its new 'clean initiative' which will allow viewers to see certain releases without the lewd humour and for other releases, scenes of "graphic violence, offensive language, sexual innuendo and other adult content" either edited or removed.
There was a time, not so long ago, when it seemed like the only acting starlets who ever came out of Ireland were male.
In the window of the Avalon House on Aungier Street, in Dublin’s city centre, the Starbucks mermaid glows like a secular sacred heart in the window.
The biblical downpour that begun the day could not dampen the spirits of the 80,000 revellers who thronged Slane early on Saturday for the much anticipated first leg on Guns N Roses European Tour.
In the window of the Avalon House on Aungier Street, in Dublin's city centre, the Starbucks mermaid glows like a secular sacred heart in the window.
The Kilkenny Group, one of Ireland's leading retail dynasties, may face a €300,000 bill from the Revenue over the status of a Spanish villa owned by the group but used by family members as a holiday home for years.
The ferocity of the Fine Gael leadership contest, which moved inexorably toward its climax last week, is all the more surprising because for the longest time it looked as though nobody in the upper echelons of the party particularly burned to take over from Enda. Least of all Leo Varadkar.
Luckily Martin Nolan is now well used to dealing with the type of people who would think nothing of wearing gems worth €40k to dinner. The Westmeath man has lived in LA for several decades and he now runs and co-owns Juliens - the auction house to the stars. This is where you go when you have a bit of money and a yen for halcyon glamour.
We seem to have gone on something of a journey with stress. Twenty years ago the notion of the strains of life and work being a possible cause of illness was still something of a taboo. It wasn't possible in most industries to take time off work for stress alone - there had to be a 'cover' illness - and the nascent mental health services had barely begun to address the problem. In the intervening years there has been something of a revolution in terms of attitudes.
Are men worse at friendship than women? I'd always assumed that the answer was 'yes', but only because I am a man, bad at friendship, and sort of entering that period of life where a lot of the comrades of youth are increasingly Facebook phantoms, if that, and actual socialising frequently feels like a major expending of effort, requiring weeks of notice. Not that it's not pleasurable when it happens, but I find you need less and less of it.
BROTHER Kevin Crowley has spoken about how he hopes Pope Francis will visit the Capuchin Day Centre in Dublin where the lost generation of the recession still come to be fed — nearly a decade after the crash.
A peek at the famous St James's Church will be on the itinerary for many of the thousands of tourists who throng into Dingle, Co Kerry, this weekend for Feile Na Bealtaine.
In a way there's something heartening about Record Store Day, a series of events held last weekend around the world - including in Dublin, where there were DJs and live music in several of the biggest shops.
A hangover needn't actually be such a terrible thing. The artist Damien Hirst, whose benders would go on for days, used to insist that the comedown was "the best bit". And, given the right conditions - hugs, tea, decent telly and possibly the company of your fellow debauchees - you can mostly wallow in your own crapness and avoid thoughts of suicide.
And so the debate about PrEP - the daily HIV prevention pill - continues to rage.
It's probably hard to know how to take it when people tell you you look like "the worst bust of all time". When the bronze likeness of Cristiano Ronaldo was unveiled at Madeira airport two weeks ago the internet was open in its scorn - most people felt the slightly demented-looking sculpture bore no resemblance to the preening soccer superstar.
It was just one man, after all. Just one flight. And it involved an airline that has actually historically been relatively decent on customer service - seldom pulling the kind of stunts we see from budget carriers here.
In some ways it seems strange that only now are filmmakers getting around to the Heath Ledger story. The lore of a young star gone too soon can drive box office takings and Ledger's story, and his brief, brilliant career, would seem to be irresistibly dramatic fodder for a biopic. Now comes something close to that.
Her comedy may be edgy but there is something deeply reassuring about Joanne McNally. In an era in which many of the country’s young creatives are being swallowed whole by the PR industry, Joanne has moved the other way — ditching the steadiness of copywriting and re-inventing herself as a stand-up comic. It’s the type of career change that takes guts — especially at a moment when every other Irish person fancies themselves as possessing a comedic gift — but in hindsight, it doesn’t look all that foolhardy a move. Over the last few years, Joanne has established herself as one of the...
For someone with such an unswerving instinct for spectacle, George Michael's funeral seemed to strike all the wrong notes. The service took place last Thursday in Highgate Cemetery, London amid tight security, with black tarpaulin covering the cemetery's iron gates. It was organised in such a cloak of secrecy that rather than arriving in a hearse, the pop star's body came in a private ambulance. Even the rabidly intrusive British press could barely get any of the details. The most they could tell us was Wham! bandmate Andrew Ridgeley and George's old flame Kenny Goss were in...
The photo, posted to Twitter on St Patrick's Day, shows a young girl in a white dress, her belongings slung under her shoulder, a little boy in a flat cap by her side. The girl in the picture was screen legend Maureen O'Sullivan and, her daughter Mia Farrow wrote, it was taken the day Maureen left Ireland for America. O'Sullivan would of course go on to carve out a legendary career in Hollywood but when Mia grew up she often made the journey the other way across the ocean to Ireland. Her speaking engagement this weekend at the Bord Gais theatre was cancelled due to "unforeseen...
It's the day before the Dancing with the Stars finale and the final rehearsals are taking place in a studio in Wicklow. A huge translucent sheet of material billows in a wind machine as chiselled dancers pivot and pose around it.
Taxi drivers who ferry Rebecca Coll around Brisbane generally assume she works in a bar or building site, like so many young Irish in the city. But in fact this brilliant young scientist left Dublin in 2014 to undertake scientific research in Australia, and has already won national recognition for her work there.
Irish people can speak with wonderful colour at the kitchen table, Terry Prone once said, but when the cameras are on "they iron themselves flat".
The first time I meet Des Bishop, just a few days have passed since he was eliminated from Dancing With the Stars, leaving it with just one Des to spare.
Professor Chris Fitzpatrick was for many years Master of the Coombe, and delivered many babies into the world. So it's high praise indeed when Moya Doherty, chairwoman of RTE and producer of Riverdance, notes that "what he's actually really good at is delivering words".
Once known as boring old Hogtown,Toronto is now a sparkling, bustling metropolis, says Donal Lynch.
On the face of it there doesn't seem anything especially macabre about the site of the former mother-and-baby home in Tuam. Nestled between middle-class semi-ds and bathed in a soft winter light, it looks less like a latter-day Auschwitz and more like the kind of plot an ambitious developer would be licking his chops over. Hoarding is still erected around the site known locally as the...
If there is any word sure to strike fear into the heart of a journalist, it's 'influencer.'
The writer Susan Sontag said that if we truly looked closely and empathetically at war photography, war itself would cease. It was the simple, stark images, shot through the barbed wire at Auschwitz, that woke Europe to the real horror of the Holocaust and it was photography, she pointed out, that really turned the US public against the Vietnam War.
In an upper room, behind a velvet rope, Michael Colgan is pouring the wine and explaining how he will say goodbye to his "mistress", the grey and stately Gate Theatre.
If we didn't know the boom was back from the busy bars and crowded restaurants, we could see it in the buffed, polished and frozen faces at their tables. Like therapy, 'getting a little work done' was once considered 'so American' but now Irish people are splashing out on cosmetic procedures like never before, with the most marked upswing in non-invasive procedures, like botox.
It's not often a man comes of age before an audience of millions, but that was what happened to Luis de Matos.
The Kilkenny Group founded by entrepreneur Marian O'Gorman is poised to dismiss Michael O'Gorman, her husband of 40 years.
When she drew up her 'Family Constitution' seven years ago, Marian O'Gorman, matriarch of the Kilkenny Group, sought to draw a line under a series of high-profile disputes with her brothers and sisters that had tarnished an otherwise outstanding reputation as an entrepreneur and chief executive of one of Ireland's leading, luxury retail dynasties.
Anyone who loved Breaking Bad will be fascinated by what the stars did next. Aaron Paul appears to be largely enjoying his fame with unchallenging multiplex fodder.
I have a good friend who dismisses all talk of the distant future with an airy: "Sure, I'll be dead by then anyway."
It was unlikely, given the incredible success of The Office, that there wouldn't be a cover version or two to satisfy its monumental fan-base. But then David Brent did always say that he was "a friend first, then a boss and probably an entertainer third".
'They have already taken our booze," I couldn't help thinking as I digested the crusading moralism of Dr Eva Orsmond's documentary Medication Nation, "and now they want our pills."
'Misinformation and assumptions" - those were the stated targets of Airbnb's new report on the good it's allegedly doing us. Forget the housing crisis, never mind the vague tax rules for hosts, or the fact that our capital city is bursting at the seams.