
Five For Your Radar: Cormac Begley in Cork, Féile in Dingle...
Concert: Cormac Begley
Cork Opera House, Friday, May 2
Concertina player Cormac Begley plays his biggest Cork show to date with a headline outing at the Opera House.
Expect stories about his instruments big and small and tunes to stir the soul — Begley may stay seated for the performance but tracks like the pulsating To War will have the audience floating.
Cinema: Thunderbolts*
General release, Friday, May 2
Marvel has been on a disappointing run in recent years but maybe Thunderbolts* (the asterisk sounds like it'll be pivotal in what comes next) can provide an electric shock.
Florence Pugh heads the ensemble cast in a Suicide Squad-esque escapade. After finding themselves ensnared in a death trap, an unconventional team of antiheroes must embark on a dangerous mission that will force them to confront the darkest corners of their pasts.
Festival: Féile na Bealtaine
Dingle/An Daingean, until Monday, May 5
Lisa Hannigan performs at Féile na Bealtaine in Dingle over the weekend.
A music and arts festival that takes over Dingle and its environs for the May bank holiday weekend, Féile na Bealtaine is like Other Voices' cool little cousin.
There are art exhibitions, talks, comedy, literature, and children's events. The Scratch, Dug, and Lisa Hannigan are among the musical attractions.
Visual art: Threads of Time
Greywood Arts, Killeagh, East Cork, Sunday, May 4
Olivia Hassett's latest work Threads of Time features as part of Killeagh's May Sunday Bealtaine festival running over the weekend.
Olivia Hassett's latest work Threads of Time features as part of Killeagh's May Sunday Bealtaine festival running over the weekend.
Drawing inspiration from the 120-year-old Singer sewing machine that belonged to her grandmother and another used by her great-grandmother, Hassett will present a live performance exploring the relationship between body, machine, lived history, and the 'fabric' of the space.
Streaming: Poker Face
Sky/NOW, Thursday, April 8
A word-of-mouth success on airing in the US in 2023, Natasha Lyonne's Charlie, who has an extraordinary ability to determine when someone is lying, returns for season two from Thursday, when the first three episodes of Poker Face drop.
Created, written, directed, and executive produced by Rian Johnson ( Knives Out), it's a mystery-of-the-week series that keeps the viewer — and Charlie — on their toes.
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Irish Times
8 hours ago
- Irish Times
Timing of Hell for Leather ideal as viewers reminded why Gaelic football is GAA's code with furthest reach
Midway through the first episode of Hell for Leather, RTÉ's elegant five-part series on the history and nature of Gaelic football, we see a clip of a young boy at some kind of GAA family fun day. With his face painted like a lion, he embarks on a hectic solo run. He chips the ball over the head of the first defender and closes his eyes as he catches it on the bounce. Then tries a toe-to-hand that flies up above his head, but he keeps running, improvising as he goes, like jazz. The camera never loses sight of the boy's enraptured face and, in the slow-motion sequence, every movement he makes with the ball is uninhibited. His relationship with the game has yet to be polluted by systems and strategies and all the paraphernalia of risk management that, until recently, threatened to destroy Gaelic football. The clip is underlaid by interview footage from Juliet Murphy, the eight-time All-Ireland winner with Cork . 'With football, the skills are bunúsach ( basic),' she says, 'but they're beautiful in motion.' The opening episode focuses on football's roots. Bundled up with that are childhood memories and first feelings. Brian Fenton, one of the greatest players of the modern era, talks about knocking the pebble dash off the gable end of his family home in Dublin , in the simple act of kicking and catching. But then he talks about grown-up football trespassing on the innocence of that relationship. READ MORE 'Playing the game as a child, this is the game you love and this is all you know,' he said. 'As things got more serious – and at that elite level – you kind of lose sight of that beautiful game you played as a kid. In many ways, some of our best games were when you strip everything back and the team talk is just, 'this is the game you've played all your life. Just go out and play the game you love. Go out and play it as if you're a child again'.' A little later in the piece, Jack McCaffrey, one of Fenton's teammates on the Dublin six-in-a-row team , addressed the same theme. 'A Gaelic football match is 70-plus minutes,' he said. 'For the majority of it, you're just working like a dog. And the fact of the matter is, it's not enjoyable. But getting a ball in my hand, looking up and thinking 'let's go' – that's exciting.' The feeling that McCaffrey describes was captured by the boy with the lion painted on his face. At so many levels of the game, not just at the highest level, Gaelic football had lost contact with that feeling. It had become a fearful game of percentages and safe passing and suppressed imagination. Everybody was indentured to a plan that reduced the possibility of losing. For many teams, winning could only be considered after not losing was mastered. This philosophy had left the game in a bad state. Football is inherently more portable than hurling and more accessible The timing of Hell for Leather couldn't have been more opportune because this has been the most spectacular football season in living memory. The new rules have injected the games with excitement and scoreboard summersaults and an element of end-to-end sparring that had been absent for many years. The game had been kidnapped by coaching actuaries obsessed with the bottom line. To bring football back to life, it needed to be brainwashed. In a staggeringly short space of time, the new rules seem to have accomplished that mission. If this series had been broadcast last summer, the tone of love and celebration that courses through the interviews would have felt utterly at odds with a game trapped in a cycle of self-rebuke and black introspection. The synchronicity of the tone and the timing adds something vital. In Hell for Leather , some of Gaelic football's biggest stars talk about their first sporting love. Photograph: RTÉ The challenge for a series such as Hell for Leather is to explore something we already know and somehow make it feel like a new acquaintance. Gaelic football covers more of Ireland than any mobile phone network. When something is under our noses, how closely do we look? In the first episode, there is a terrific piece about the islands tournament that is played off in a blitz every summer. It comes and goes without any notice beyond the players and supporters who animate it. Just like with any sport, Gaelic football connects with people and communities in a million micro ways, but because football exists wherever Irish people are found, it bends to each habitat. Football is inherently more portable than hurling and more accessible. Hell for Leather is conscious of an audience that might only watch a handful of big games on telly every summer, but the passages about the origins of the game will be fascinating even to fanatics. The game had ancestors in rural Ireland, but no codified rules. One of the GAA's first big jobs was to make them up. 'As for the tackle,' says the historian Mark Duncan, 'you couldn't headbutt.' It seemed like no other holds were barred. The first match under the GAA's rules was played in Kilkenny and ended scoreless. Don't forget that Kilkenny won two Leinster football titles in the first 25 years of the GAA and contested four other Leinster finals. They don't talk about it much. [ Dean Rock: Armagh are now in an unbelievable position Opens in new window ] Hell for Leather is made by Crossing The Line, the same production house that delivered The Game, the acclaimed series on hurling. In every sense, it has the same texture: it is glossy and cinematic and earthy and soulful. In an exhaustive trawl, more than 80 interviews were conducted over five years. The filmmaker, Gerry Nelson, spent up to three hours with many of the subjects, and you can tell from the short, sharp snippets that appear on screen that Nelson kept digging beyond surface thoughts. 'When you think about football, life comes with it,' says Shane Walsh, the Galway footballer. Had he ever said that out loud before? This is an important portrait of a precious strand of Irish life. Just when football discovered the joy in life again. Hell for Leather, RTÉ One, Monday, 9.35pm


Irish Times
9 hours ago
- Irish Times
Laura O'Mahoney: ‘I once paid €70 for a massive quiche as I was too embarrassed to say I only wanted a slice'
Comedian and director Laura O'Mahony directs Footnote, at Triskel Arts Centre, Cork, on June 14th, 16th and 17th as part of Cork Midsummer Festival. Are you a saver or a spender? I am a spender. A wild spender. I don't necessarily spend on myself, but I do spend on my children. In fact, I recently queued outside a Brown Thomas store to purchase a shamrock Jellycat for my kids. Did they need it? No, but it did fill them with joy, and I am into joy. What was the first job you received money for, and how much were you paid? Working in a bookshop in Cork . I think I got paid quite well but I was emergency taxed , and I remembered being scandalised because it felt like my money had simply disappeared. Do you shop around for better value? I don't. I know I should, but I'm not that type of person. I am a fan of immediacy and getting things solved quickly, so shopping around feels like a major hassle. It makes no sense, I know, but at nearly 40 years of age I understand the way my mind works. READ MORE What has been your most extravagant purchase, and how much did it cost? I bought an absolutely beautiful bike for my birthday. I think it was €700. It has a stunning basket at the front. I had images of myself popping into town to buy bread for my basket, but sadly this dream is yet to be realised, and my cycling leaves a lot to be desired. What purchase have you made that you consider the best value for money? We bought a rice cooker recently and, quite honestly, it's a game changer. We now have rice coming out of our ears morning, noon and night. With three hungry mouths to feed, it's a lifesaver and a timesaver. Is there anything you regret spending money on? I don't really ever regret anything. I mean, I have a leaky Stanley cup that I absolutely did not need, but it did bring me joy, and it at least attempted to keep me hydrated for a small while. Do you haggle over prices? I don't have the guts to do that. I get all flustered, so I am such an easy target. I would nearly pay too much not to be mortified. I once paid €70 for a massive quiche because I was too embarrassed to say I just wanted one slice. We were eating quiche for weeks. Do you invest in shares and/or cryptocurrency? I don't, mainly due to lack of knowledge and a bit of trepidation. It's not really my area of expertise, and I suppose I have heard horror stories about things going wrong. Ultimately, I like to know what my money is up to at all times. Do you have a retirement or pension plan? No. As a theatre director and comedian, it is hard to ever see myself retiring. Plans such as these are, of course, something I need to resolve and seek advice on but I'm not brilliant at taking advice even when it's for my own good. What was the last thing you bought and was it good value for money? I bought a holiday to London for my family for my 40th birthday and it was great value. We are staying in a lovely apartment close to everything. Those kinds of memories are priceless. Have you ever successfully saved up for a relatively big purchase? I saved up for our wedding. Aside from our house, it was probably the biggest purchase but there was real pleasure in saving for something so beautiful. Have you ever lost money? I haven't, but my son lost €20 in a toy shop the other day. His little heart was so sad. I should have used it as a learning experience about the importance of money but, instead, I pretended I found it. The world will teach him the tough lessons; I am a soft touch, and I don't feel the need to yet. Are you a gambler and, if so, have you ever had a big win? I am not a gambler. I will take risks in life but not with money. I threw a fiver on Sweden to win the Eurovision this year, and look where that got me. What is your best habit when it comes to money? And your worst? My best habit is not overspending on myself. My worst habit is wildly overspending on everyone else and forgetting that saving is a very important life skill. How much money do you have on you now? I could probably scrape together about a tenner for you from coins at the end of my bag. In conversation with Tony Clayton-Lea


Irish Times
a day ago
- Irish Times
Strange new worlds and a summer camp murder: YA reads for June
Skipshock: think jet lag turned up to 11. Moving quickly between worlds where time passes differently – shorter days for the poorer, exploited north; longer, luxurious ones for the wealthy south – means that salesmen's careers are short and brutal. 'We are twice as likely to be alcoholics, three times as likely to die by suicide, and infinitely more likely to disappear without anyone caring at all.' Moon has been a salesman for seven years, and time is running out. Enter Margo, 'a sixteen-year-old failed runaway with a watch and unsuitable clothing', whose train from Cork to Dublin suddenly transforms into something more old-fashioned and sinister. In an unfamiliar realm, where time races by far too quickly, she tries to figure out who she can trust. Moon, perhaps, but he's thinking about her not so much as a damsel in distress as a job – delivering her will net him the kind of payload that could help him retire, before the illness sinks its claws in any further. Caroline O'Donoghue's Skipshock (Walker, £14.99), the first in a new duology from the acclaimed author of both teen and adult fiction, is a thought-provoking look at inequality, time and borders, wrapped up in a delicious romantic adventure. Moon, a member of the Lunati, a people whose 'sacred caravan trails' were shut down by an oppressive regime, trusts neither those in power nor the revolutionary movement trying to overthrow them. [ Caroline O'Donoghue: If we had carried on living together, we would have had no friends left Opens in new window ] Margo, emotionally troubled but from relative privilege, takes a while to realise that not having 'done anything wrong' doesn't matter in these new circumstances, that she is 'in effect, an illegal immigrant' here. Their different perspectives invite a certain level of political commentary, and there are some clear parallels with our own world, but O'Donoghue is careful not to sacrifice story, or to reduce complex situations to simple binaries. Thoroughly enjoyable and intelligent. READ MORE 'We had been placed in a biodome with a diameter of about ten kilometres, and a circumference of thirty-two. You could walk all the way around in six or seven hours. Why had we been put here? No idea, though of course we had theories.' Xavier is 13 when 'they', unseen aliens or other forces, kidnap his family from a peaceful rural getaway. He has been living in the dome with his father, stepmother and baby brother for three years – farming, foraging, and clinging to his battered phone as the one last link to his brother, mom, and civilisation as he knew it – when a new family arrives. Having accepted 'there's no point wishing for the impossible', his hopes rise all over again when patriarch Riley, more than a little fond of conspiracy theories and guns, begins planning their escape. Kenneth Oppel. Photograph: Mark Raynes Roberts The prolific Canadian author Kenneth Oppel is on form with his latest, Best of All Worlds (Guppy, £14.99), a quietly tense thriller about imprisonment versus freedom, and individual rights versus communal responsibility. Have Xavier's family been wise or foolish to simply accept their lot? 'They put a bubble over your head, you stay put. They put a hoe in your hand, you farm. Three years, you've been doing exactly what they want,' Riley laments. Even if their captors are benevolent, is compliance the best way forward? Is there a touch of Dr Pangloss in Xavier's own father? There's much to discuss in this smart, engaging book. Meg Grehan Irish verse novelist Meg Grehan returns to the characters of her award-winning The Deepest Breath in The Brightest Star (Little Island, £8.99), which sees best friends Stevie, Chloe and Andrew start secondary school. Stevie is still battling anxiety, with the help of her mum and therapist, but she's also very clear on who she is – a girl who loves space and learning and Chloe, who makes her feel 'fizzy and warm and lovely', even if they're not quite ready for hand-holding just yet. (The innocence of this is an important reminder of how LGBTQ+ content in young people's literature is not inherently 'adult'; let's hear it for representing all kinds of swoony first crushes.) Finding a supportive community at their new school through the Rainbow Club is just as sparkling and hopeful for Stevie – 'The potential / In the air / Is so potent / So palpable / So delicious' – but Andrew, given his own voice in this volume, distances himself for reasons he can't quite articulate or admit. This earnest, tender book is a warm hug for young readers. 'When someone you love dies, people give you about a month. In that month, if you cry, they know exactly why you are crying. But after that, whenever you're sad they ask you why. Expecting a different reason than the one before. As if your grief is past its expiry date. As if your grief was a yoghurt.' It's been several months since Nadia lost her best friend, Lizzy, to cancer, and it still weighs heavily on her. There's a list of things Lizzy wanted her to do, including 'get PJs signed by godlike pop star', but Nadia's fallen behind. Getting through the day is hard enough. When her aunt intervenes, sending her on a transatlantic flight to attend a pop concert, it's the beginning of a life-changing road trip that includes – inevitably – a cute boy, Fran, who may have his own demons, but is also up for an adventure. Jacqueline Silvester Jacqueline Silvester's The Last Wish List (Simon & Schuster, £8.99) is a sweet summer rom-com that provides both familiar tropes and a few unexpected swerves. Of particular note is the handling of Nadia's Russian heritage, with parents who 'think mental health is an expression made up by western marketing companies'; it's a vital reminder that the good-to-talk 'awareness' campaigns land differently depending on cultural background. Ava Eldred Finally, Ava Eldred's second novel, Exit Stage Death (UCLan Publishing, £8.99), is an immensely entertaining murder mystery set at a musical theatre summer camp (this reviewer was sucked in immediately by the premise, but recognises that there are some readers who will not be quite as delighted with all the musical references). Livi's in her final year at Camp Chance, determined to be the lead in the showcase and convince her parents to get on board with drama school; she brilliantly captures 'the feelings of atoms shifting' as she enters this intense summer world. With many of her old camp friends now sitting exams, she pushes herself to make new pals and to smash it in rehearsals – until a dead body appears. The police rule it a tragic accident, but Livi knows better, and has a sinister note from the killer to prove it. 'You're in the middle of your own murder mystery now, but the rest is still to be written. You have until the end of camp to find me, or she won't be the only one.' Eldred pulls off this implausible concept with aplomb, letting her teenage characters continue to be concerned with the everyday – who's getting the lead? Who's kissing whom? Will Livi's last summer of joy and theatre be ruined by all this murder business? – while they work together to solve the crime. The use of stage directions in lieu of the more typical italicised killer-monologue is particularly well done, and a final reveal invites rereading.