A true warmth shone through between the fun and skits

THERE were so many highlights, it’s hard to know where to start, but it seems appropriate to do so with the show that above all others will define the lockdown when we look back in years to come.

The Normal People sketch was inspired, with Connell (Paul Mescal) going to Confession to look for a little advice on his romantic life. And who was his confessor? Oh, yeah, Andrew Scott, the socalled Hot Priest from Fleabag, who soon opened the other screen in the box to reveal Marianne (Daisy Edgar-Jones). Written by Conor McPherson and directed by Lenny Abrahamson, the sketch was whip-smart and pitch perfect, and ended with all three singing Tracy Chapman’s Baby Can I Hold You. It was quite a feat, being bittersweet and funny and oddly touching too. Pure quality.

So too was Normal Older People, with Peter McDonald and Deirdre O’Kane playing Connell and Marianne in middle age, still talking in the same cadences, still elevating the mundane – beans on toast – to the epic, still not saying what they really feel.

Almost as funny was Aisling Bea trying to convince Hozier to write a few more upbeat songs about the things he loved – gamely taking the mick out of himself, he made eating a steak and chips and having pints with the lads still sound like a traditional lament. Elsewhere, though, his version of Bridge Over Troubled Waters performed in the middle of Croke Park was breathtaking.

I never was a huge fan of The Panel, what with being allergic to more than a few of the regulars, but the mockumentary about its effect on the national psyche and the end of Dara Ó Briain’s tenure in the chair, with contributions from Jimmy Carr, Adam Hills and Romesh Ranganathan, was very funny.

For a lot of people a bit younger than me, the highlight was seeing Zig, Zag and Dustin reunited with Ray D’Arcy on The Den. When Bob Geldof said lockdown meant he had the cleanest car in Britain, the ever irreverent Dustin suggested he should wash himself. Classic.

There were other delightful moments, and a couple that fell flat. Pat Shortt’s Kerry doctor performing varicose vein treatment on himself with a hurl was deeply unfunny. Indeed the first hour, overall, dragged. Yes, the segment with children being surprised at being addressed by the múinteoirí on RTÉ Home School Hub was heartwarming, and the Foil, Arms and Hog sketch with Oisín trying to watch Normal People with his mammy was top class, but it was only after the news that it all kicked up a gear.

YouTube stars The 2 Johnnies proved to be good fun, performing as Westlife with Des Cahill and Marty Morrissey. I laughed a lot, too, at Brendan Courtney’s special edition of Keys To My Life, tracing Katherine Lynch as the grotesque Sheila Chic as she left jail, and at the Bridget And Eamon isolation segment – and I’m not sure I’ll ever get over hearing Anne Doyle talking about dogging and toecurling orgasms on Waterford Whispers News. It was like finding out your ma is on TikTok.

So, congratulations to Deirdre O’Kane and Darren Smith for pulling it all together, and for raising so much money. The stars of the show were the real people featured as they dealt with cancer treatment and the challenge of educating children with autism.

As for the bit that got me, well, that was the Zoom version of Jerry Fish’s True Friends, dedicated to all the children who left primary school without the opportunity to say goodbye to all their pals. Their enthusiasm as they held up signs of support and love was the single nicest thing I’ve seen since the pandemic started. Laughs are great, but looking at the face of a better future for all of us was the icing on the cake.