Number 2300: Season Three Marks the End of an Era in Ballykissangel

Last month, Netflix alerted me to a series that struck me as a perfect find for St. Patrick's Day. While I'd already ordered up a Jakers! DVD, prepared to immerse myself in the playful antics of the computer-animated residents of an idealized 50s-era Irish town, the discovery that Instant Viewing could bring me an hour-long, adult drama evoking the same atmosphere was exhilarating. Ballykissangel, created and, for the first three seasons, largely written by Kieran Prendiville, quickly proved to be exactly the sort of show I was looking for. It drew me in to an extent that few shows have, and so it seems fitting that I should mark my next Epi-milestone with a review of its most pivotal season. This is number 2300, a number which calls to mind the 23rd Psalm, so appropriate for a show in which verdant fields spattered with sheep are ever in the background; a show steeped in Catholic traditions and focusing on the efforts of one very conscientious "shepherd"; a season in which the comfort this famous Biblical passage offers is often so sorely needed.

Although I made an effort to avoid spoilers, I made the mistake of looking over IMDb after I watched the first season; it's common practice for me as I check the names of characters and actors, but it's a dangerous proposition when one is partway through a television series and the cast list itself becomes a landmine of unwanted info about character arrivals and departures. I knew well ahead of time that one way or another, the central conflict of the series would be resolved by the end of the third season and my favorite character would be out of the picture. This left me to imagine all sorts of scenarios that might evolve over the course of 20 more episodes (eight in the second season, twelve in this third). I ran through many possibilities, but the season finale still caught me off-guard.

Ballykissangel begins with the arrival of Father Peter Clifford (Stephen Tompkinson), a Catholic priest from Manchester, England, in the tiny titular Irish village. We get to know all of the quirky residents through the eyes of this compassionate, self-effacing man of the cloth. He has a special gift for connecting with the common folk and assuaging the souls of the suffering, and he is quick to forgive others for their missteps. Going easy on himself is another matter, however, and from the day of his arrival in town, he fights against forbidden feelings that would undermine his vocation. Fiercely agnostic Assumpta Fitzgerald (Dirvla Kirwan), the kind but feisty owner of the locals' favorite watering hole, seems somewhat ill-suited for close friendship with anyone as devout as Peter, but there is an undeniable magnetism between them. As the mutual attraction increases, the viewer has to wonder what type of outcome for these two characters would constitute a happy ending.

My mom, always the romantic, was most invested in Peter and Assumpta's relationship. She was determined to see them wind up married, while I wasn't entirely keen on it, particularly if Assumpta's spiritual outlook remained unchanged. Though a season two conversation reveals that she does not consider herself an atheist, she seems almost incapable of discussing Catholicism without contempt. My primary concern was that Peter not lose his faith, a worry that seemed especially valid after this season's second episode, in which the hoopla over an apparently sweating statue inside St. John's, coupled with Assumpta's acidic critique of Christianity as a whole, causes the curate to question the validity of his beliefs.

Early on, I'd embraced Father Clifford as an inspiration, my favorite fictional clergyman since M*A*S*H's Father Mulcahy. Here was a man who had truly been called to a life of religious service, and he was such an exceptional priest, I despaired at the thought of him abandoning the ministry, though I thought a change in denomination could potentially serve as a suitable compromise. Neither of us wanted to see Ballykissangel turn into The Thorn Birds, with Peter remaining a priest while carrying on a long-term illicit affair with Assumpta. Ultimately, while certain turning points in the main plotline left each of us satisfied - and Tompkinson and Kirwan, who were engaged to each other for much of their run on the show, give electrifying performances in one another's presence - we both had conclusions in mind that we would have preferred to the one we received.

Season three contains twice as many episodes as the first, which allows more time to develop the characters who will presumably move into the spotlight in Peter and Assumpta's absence. Chief among there are newlyweds Niamh (Tina Kellegher) and Ambrose Egan (Peter Hanly), who are ecstatic to welcome an infant into their lives but soon find that parenthood can be an exhausting enterprise, particularly when an injured Ambrose is laid up and Assumpta leaves Niamh temporarily in charge of Fitzgerald's pub. Ambrose's mother Imelda (Doreen Keogh) becomes a prominent supporting character as the Egans are obliged to endure her meddlesome nature in exchange for the convenience of a live-in babysitter. Meanwhile, Niamh's father, Brian Quigley (Tony Doyle), finds himself in severe financial trouble after a much-anticipated business deal goes sour.

Among the rest of the townsfolk, Brian's luckless lackeys Liam and Donal (Joe Savino and Frankie McCafferty) continue to wreak havoc wherever they go; most of the catastrophes are unintentional, though in one instance they take their shenanigans a shade too far. They also have some moments of solemnity, as Brian's foul fortunes have a very direct effect upon them. Veterinarian Siobahn (Deirdre Donnelly), aspiring lawyer Padraig (Peter Caffrey), schoolteacher Brendan (Gary Whelan) and stern Father MacAnally (Niall Toibin) all receive life-altering news on the personal front, and each deals with the revelation in a unique and illuminating manner.

I found Father Mac's trajectory especially compelling; he becomes more human this season, and he also has the occasion to deliver a most excellent sermon that defies audience expectations. His most devoted parishioner, persnickety shopkeeper Kathleen (Aine Ni Mhuiri), becomes more sympathetic, if only momentarily, when a 50s-style dance and an unlikely suitor - the gentle farmer Eamon (Birdy Sweeney), whose deep affection for his livestock endears him to me even as his indistinct dialogue tempts me to reach for the "subtitles" button - transports her back to her girlhood. Assumpta's old flame Leo (James Nesbitt), a sophisticated journalist previously seen only once in season one, returns for several episodes in a surprising capacity.

As for Assumpta and Peter, both are missing for about a third of the season as Assumpta decides to get a taste of big city life in Dublin while Peter goes on a Father Mac-recommended retreat to deal with his conflicted feelings and later returns to Manchester for a family crisis. The good news is that while their absence is felt in those episodes, the other characters' stories are sufficiently interesting to make me think the show is probably still pretty good without its original stars. Nonetheless, part of the beauty of those episodes is the way they heighten the anticipation for the main duo's return. Without that as an anchor, will the fourth season be as engrossing?

Like so many television stars before them, Tompkinson and Kirwan evidently grew weary of their regular gig, necessitating that the series' most prominent storyline come to an end. Going back to the number 23, I'm reminded of LOST's Mr. Eko, a Catholic priest from Nigeria whose first centric episode was entitled The 23rd Psalm. After only a season, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje wanted off the show, leading the writers to dispose of his character in a manner both shocking and, to many, distressing. I can't help but wonder in both cases whether the writers' initial intentions were completely different from what was necessitated by the actors' availability.

On the other hand, M*A*S*H is an example of a show that worked through dramatic character changes and actually became stronger for it; in my opinion, most of the best episodes in that series come when Potter, Winchester and Hunnicut have replaced Blake, Burns and Trapper. But how would the show have managed if Alan Alda had been the one who requested an exit? Could it have flourished after losing its central character? These are questions I consider as I contemplate delving into the fourth season, and I'm not sure I like the answers. I suspect the last three seasons will seem more like a sequel than a continuation; without my beloved Father Clifford on board to keep me riveted, I hope I won't feel inclined to kiss Ballykissangel goodbye.

There's a Lot to Love in Season Two of Ballykissangel

Last week, I discovered the delightful BBC program Ballykissangel, which ran for six seasons, starting in the mid-90s. I also discovered that the first three seasons were available on Netflix Instant Viewing, but only for the rest of March, perhaps in honor of St. Patrick's Day, since the show is set in Ireland. So while I think I'll have to rent the separate DVDs for season three, I managed to cram the first two seasons into two weeks. Season two is slightly longer than season one, with eight 50-minute-long episodes instead of six, and pretty similar in terms of tone and characters.

Season one ends on what feels like a cliff-hanger, as Father Peter Clifford (Stephen Thompkinson), who's been the curate at St. Joseph's, the Catholic parish in Ballykissangel, for a few months, receives word that he's being transferred back to his hometown of Manchester. Feisty agnostic pub owner Assumpta Fitzgerald (Dervla Kirwan) presents him with a petition from dozens of townspeople protesting his removal; Father Clifford is touched but pointedly asks, in a manner evoking Captain Von Trapp in The Sound of Music, "You said they all wanted me to stay. What about you?"

Well, apparently the petition worked, because Father Clifford is still around in the season two premiere, and his transfer is never mentioned again. But the romantic tension between Assumpta and Peter continues as he discovers a script written by pub regulars Brendan (Gary Whelan) and Padraig (Peter Caffrey) and launches a production, with her as the star. When circumstances require him to step in for another actor as her love interest, stern Father Macanally (Niall Toibin) suspects that the stage chemistry he witnesses in rehearsals is a little too authentic, forcing Father Clifford to carefully evaluate his true feelings.

It's as though all of season one was building up to this moment, while season two gradually moves away from it as the young priest tries to remain a friend to Assumpta while creating a bit more distance between them. Meanwhile, she must deal with the mostly unwanted attentions of washed-up folk singer Enda Sullivan (Stephen Brennan), who has recently settled in town, and the lack of employees to help run her ever-popular pub.

Newlyweds Niamh (Tina Kellegher) and Ambrose Egan (Peter Hanly) face some rocky times as they try to start a family and settle into new routines. Ambrose continues to prove his mettle as Ballykissangel's lone cop, while Niamh finds a new calling laying down the law for a gang of young hooligans from another town who recently started attending the local school, where Brendan, normally an incredibly capable teacher, finds himself overrun.

Brendan is one of the characters we get to know quite a bit better this season. Others are Eamonn (Birdy Sweeney), an elderly farmer who is especially devoted to his livestock, and Dr. Ryan (Bosco Hogan), who comes to the forefront as the Egans await news of a baby. Brian Quigley (Tony Doyle), much like Buddy Garrity on Friday Night Lights, becomes more sympathetic as we see that being the richest man in town comes with a host of unique problems. Stuffy shop owner Kathleen (Aine Ni Mhuiri) gets a taste of riches herself when everyone in town bands together to help her bounce back from a house fire, with veterinarian Siobhan (Deirdre Donnelly) leading the fundraising charge.

This season is slightly less centered on Father Clifford than the first, but he's still very involved in the activities of his community and battling moral crises at every turn. Should he act on a dog-racing tip given to him in the confessional, knowing the winnings will help a needy parishioner? How can he draw more people to Mass on Sunday without compromising the integrity of the service? Is there any way of pounding a little sense into the twitterpated teens in town without offending Father Macanally by discussing indelicate subjects? And what's to be done when dunderheads Liam (Joe Savino) and Donal (Frankie McCafferty) appropriate a statue of Mary to attract people to their gold-panning tourist trap on the shores of the river?

A host of colorful characters with entrancing accents, beautiful scenery, a lively score and engaging plots that tackle heavy issues but provide plenty of comical twists. That's what you get with Ballykissangel. Interestingly, I see that the third season is twice as long as the first, so a change of pace awaits, for better or worse - but I find it hard to imagine anything bad could come of having that much more time to spend with the residents of this enchanting town.

Ballykissangel's First Season Introduces Colorful Irish Townsfolk and One Very Lovable English Priest

I was browsing through Netflix last week, looking for something to watch on Instant Viewing, since I was between DVDs at the time. I was hoping for something Irish in honor of St. Patrick's Day but wasn't really expecting to find much, so I was delighted to strike gold when I stumbled upon the series Ballykissangel. This BBC Northern Ireland series created by Kieran Prendiville is set in the sleepy Irish town of the title. Like Mitford, Mayberry or James Herriot's Darrowby, Ballykissangel is an idyllic village where everyone knows each other and both laughter and troubles are always in large supply.

The first season, or "series" as the BBC calls it, consists of six 50-minute-long episodes and begins with the arrival of Father Peter Clifford (Stephen Thompkinson), a progressive young priest from Manchester. The first person he meets is Assumpta Fitzgerald (Dervla Kirwan), a tart-tongued pub owner determined not to live up to her oh-so-Catholic name. She takes every opportunity to demonstrate her disdain for the Church, but she can't help liking Father Clifford, who is everything Ballykissangel's stodgy elder priest, Father MacAnally (Niall Toibin), isn't: self-effacing, liberal, forgiving... not to mention handsome, in an endearing boy-next-door sort of way. He enjoys sparring with her, and the romantic tension that blooms mere minutes into the pilot escalates throughout the season, though Father Clifford is the very picture of propriety.

Gangly police officer Ambrose Egan (Peter Hanly) is not so over-the-top as Don Knotts' Barney Fief, but in a town where very little crime occurs, he's always on the lookout for improper behavior. In uniform, he's overzealous in his duties, but without that authority, he's rather gutless and rarely stands up to his girlfriend Niamh (Tina Kellegher), the fiery daughter of Brian Quigley (Tony Doyle), a businessman who would like to think he owns the town. While Brian, with some help from bumbling lackeys Liam (Joe Sovino) and Donal (Frankie McCafferty), cooks up self-aggrandizing schemes like installing an electronic confessional in the church and advertising on a covert radio station, Ambrose and Niamh try to negotiate their way toward marriage. This is complicated by Niamh's desire to co-habitate first and a brush with death that leaves Ambrose considering the priesthood.

Local folks filter in and out of the episodes and generally come to rest at Assumpta's pub at some point. One of her most frequent guests is eccentric veterinarian Siobhan (Deirdre Donnelly), who doles out tips on horse races and protests the use of a goat in a peculiar ritual at a local festival. Other regulars are teacher Brendan (Gary Whelan) and doctor Michael (Bosco Hogan).

Aside from butting heads with stern Father Mac and scheming Brian, Father Clifford is well-liked by the townsfolk, and while people are always coming to him for advice, in many ways he's just one of the gang. An extremely moral man, he carefully considers every decision he makes. His struggles throughout the season include finding a suitable form of transportation; participating in a soccer match in which throwing the game would benefit a family in need; reacting to a startling admission by a new friend on his deathbed; and, of course, maintaining his friendship with Assumpta without letting it turn into anything inappropriate.

The show's scenery is beautiful, with every episode offering glimpses of rolling, sheep-covered hills, quiet forests and babbling brooks. The town itself is charming, and the church is impressive, with ornate statues and elegant stained-glass windows. The instrumental theme song is sprightly, and traditional Irish sounds fill the score, though contemporary music creeps into the show as well, particularly in the episode in which the townspeople are divided between enchantment and outrage over a new radio station broadcast from a secret location.

A glance at Ballykissangel's IMDb listing tells me that although the series lasted for six seasons, most of the characters didn't, so it will be interesting to see how the cast evolves. For now, I'm right in the middle of the second season and sympathizing with Assumpta, because Father Clifford is a very easy guy to fall in love with.