Lockdown laughs
A gang of popular comedians have made a one-off comedy drama about life under lockdown. Donal O’Donoghue talks to two of the stars of Socially Distant, Dermot Whelan and Oliver Callan
A number of top Irish comics have banded together in lockdown to create a comedy drama. Donal O’Donoghue chats to Oliver Callan and Dermot Whelan
In April, at the height of the pandemic, Dermot Whelan was lming himself in Dublin city centre. He was actor, director, cameraman, stylist and the rest; armed with a phone on a sel e stick and carrying a bag which contained his wardrobe. “When I had to lm myself I had to leave the bag to one side and sometimes I had to stop people from robbing it,” he says. “Another time I had to shout at a pretend bike courier and this woman asked me if I was OK.” Dermot Whelan was not alone in this guerrilla lmmaking. Elsewhere Oliver Callan was also talking to himself, Eric Lalor was laden with loo roll and Camille Lucy Ross was couch-bound, slurping tea. It was all for Socially Distant, a lockdown comedy written, directed and produced by James Cotter ( Republic of Telly, Callan’s Kicks). e actors were largely le to their own devices. Eric Lalor used a glitter ball thingy to recreate a Temple Bar night-club. Bernard Casey imagined he was trapped in a ski chalet in France. Karen Kelley served trendy hot drinks to invisible customers. For Oliver Callan’s backdrop, the props were a few sheets of newspaper, a roll of masking tape and some sca olding. “It was true DIY lmmaking,” he says, “but James gave precise direction so that all the pieces matched.” Whelan, a comedian and broadcaster with Today FM (he’s the Dermot in Dermot and Dave) got involved with Socially Distant through Cotter, whom he rst met on Republic of Telly. “It just sounded so mad that I couldn’t resist,” he says. Dermot plays Dave (bit of an in-joke there), the centre of the Murphy family, who is determined to get his dysfunctional clan to celebrate a surprise birthday party for Auntie Bríd (Mary McEvoy). But within weeks of Dave’s social media shout-out, lockdown happens. “I hired my kids to read everyone else’s lines so that I did my acting with my children,” says Whelan with a laugh.
Oliver Callan plays three characters (at least) including cat-loving Dinny (unseen), an aggressive bike courier (o -camera), a newsreader voiceover (sounding not unlike Bryan Dobson) and conspiracy theorist Michael who may or may not be related to the Murphys. “It was all done in the heat and trepidation of lockdown,” he says. “And [James] got us comics on board because quite a few of us had live shows set up that weren’t happening.” Callan was on the cusp of his rst live tour in a few years and was also due to tie the knot with his long-term partner, John Lannin, in October. Both are now likely to happen next year.
“ ere was some weeping and gnashing of teeth initially as I had spent a bit of money setting up the tour but then you realise that work and money aren’t terribly important,” says Oliver. “You realise how important your family and friends are.” In any case he was busy wrapping the last few episodes of Callan’s Kicks, lling in for Ryan Tubridy on RTÉ Radio One and he even went home to Monaghan to do the shopping for his mammy who was cocooning (“and to make sure she didn’t pop out to shake hands with the postman,” he jokes). en there was his work for Socially Distant and his tangle with masking tape.
Socially Distant has also given Dermot Whelan a renewed buzz for acting. “When I rst started, I was doing radio and acting and said that whatever took o rst I’d go with,” he says. “But I’ve always enjoyed acting and the bizarre comic sketches on Republic of Telly were a great learning experience. My claim to fame is that I very nearly got a part in George Clooney’s mini-series, Catch-22.” Otherwise he hopes to publish two books next year, one a comic take on the allure of meditation (“in my spare time I’m a meditation teacher”) and the other, a kids’ book in the vein of David Walliams.
As for Oliver Callan, it’s looking as busy as ever. Most likely he will once again substitute for Ryan Tubridy when the RTÉ man takes his summer holidays. en there is the regular newspaper columns, his voiceover work, animation projects (“there are a few things going on there” he says cryptically) and the perennial hope that Callan’s Kicks will return in the autumn (“as an independent production we’ll have to go through the usual hoops and jumps”). His live tour will have to be rewritten for 2021 and then there’s his wedding, which is likely to be postponed for the brave new world of the post-pandemic, as a socially distant shindig really only works in a TV comedy.