Ballykissangel Remains Charming Despite the Departure of Its Leads

Last year, my search for something Irish to watch on St. Patrick’s Day led me to Ballykissangel, a BBC series from the 1990s about a tiny Irish town and its residents. In the first three seasons, the central characters are Father Peter Clifford (Stephen Thompkinson), a priest from Manchester who comes to town at the beginning of the series, and Assumpta Fitzgerald (Dervla Kirwan), the feisty owner of the pub that is Ballykissangel’s most popular gathering spot. However, both Thompkinson and Kirwan were ready to move on to other ventures by the end of the third season, so show creator Kieran Prendiville dramatically wrote out the characters, leading me to wonder how much I would enjoy the series in their absence.

I gave the show a good break and came back to it recently, watching the fourth season through Netflix Instant Viewing. The primary difference is a shift in focus. While the show has featured a number of quirky characters from the beginning, it’s in the fourth season that it becomes a true ensemble drama. Because Fitzgerald’s is so integral to the series, one might argue that new proprietor Niamh Egan (Tina Kellegher), already fairly prominent as Assumpta’s best friend, becomes the main character, but the focus really is all over the place. This results in a season that is generally less intense, but there’s always something interesting happening in Ballykissangel, and the new characters add richness to the interconnecting storylines.

No sooner had hip Father Peter arrived than he became completely immersed in all of the town’s activity. Initially, I suspected that his replacement would occupy just as central a role, but that really isn’t the case. Father Aidan O’Connell (Don Wycherley) is shy and soft-spoken. Lacking his predecessor’s social finesse and tendency to rock the boat, he finds it much more difficult to integrate himself into the life of the village, especially since he has lived in seclusion for much of his adult life. His time in a monastery has left him ill equipped to deal with many everyday concerns, but this adds to his charm. He is a sweet man of deep faith, and I wish that he had a larger presence in most of the episodes.

Along with the new priest comes Orla (Victoria Smurfit), his spirited sister. She comes to town mostly to help ease his transition into modern life, and she is his go-to person whenever he has a problem, whether it’s feeling intimidated by the task of grocery shopping or fearing himself insufficient when it comes to counseling townspeople. I love the tenderness of their rapport, devoid of all the messy trappings of Peter’s relationship with Assumpta. But Orla does much more than simply give her brother a few helpful nudges. A lovely and vivacious woman, she soon befriends most of the major characters and involves herself in many of the town’s activities. Truth be told, I prefer her to Assumpta, who always had a mean-spirited streak that was a bit of a turn-off. Orla can toss out zingers with the best of them, but she’s also relentlessly cheerful, and she’s probably my favorite female character on the show.

I also like Emma Dillon (Kate McEnery), the spunky teenage daughter of Sean Dillon (Lorcan Cranitch), who grew up in Ballykissangel and has returned to an icy reception. Bad blood abounds between the townspeople and this man whose circumstances make him remind me a bit of Lex Luthor in Smallville’s first couple of seasons. It’s hard enough for Sean to accept the suspicious spirit in which he is greeted, but for Emma, who doesn’t understand the history behind it, the move proves especially frustrating. Nonetheless, things start looking up for her when she befriends Danny Byrne, yet another addition to the cast, played by a very young Colin Farrell.

Danny arrives as a rebellious vagabond, but he manages to cool down and become quite lovable after spending some time helping his eccentric uncle Eamon (Birdy Sweeney) run his farm. It’s good for the elderly farmer to have someone on hand to make his workload lighter, and through Danny, Eamon has a more prominent role this season than in any other. The only downside is that Eamon’s feud with Sean runs deeper than almost anyone’s, complicating things for Emma and Danny.

The remaining characters are the ones who have been in place since the first season, and they continue to develop. Wealthy Brian Quigley (Tony Doyle) takes over ownership of the pub, letting his daughter Niamh take care of the daily duties. In the meantime, he continues to concoct a variety of business schemes, particularly involving his new golf course. On the whole, however, he seems to have mellowed out somewhat, as has Father MacAnally (Niall Toibin), the senior priest who is relieved that Aidan gives him far fewer headaches than Peter did. Sharing in that relief is ultra-conservative shopkeeper Kathleen Hendley (Aine Ni Mhuiri), who never held much with Peter’s unorthodox ways.

Niamh and Ambrose (Peter Hanly), the town’s only police officer, face new challenges to their marriage in this season as Niamh begins to feel dissatisfied with the monotony of her life. Their son Kieran, born just last season, is suddenly a chatty toddler, which threw me for a bit of a loop; I’m not sure just when three or four years are supposed to have passed, especially since veterinarian Siobahn Mehigan (Deirdre Donnelly) learns that she is pregnant in the third season and gives birth in the fourth, and the baby is still an infant as the fourth season draws to a close. My guess is that it was just more interesting to have a rambunctious young child to write about, so Prendiville aged him up and hoped we would forget how recently Kieran was born. Meanwhile, schoolteacher Brendan Kearney (Gary Whelan) isn’t too quick to embrace the idea of being a father to Siobahn’s baby, but he gradually warms to the idea, and one of the big questions of the season is how this birth will affect his relationship with Siobahn.

One thing that can be counted upon consistently is some sort of idiocy on the part of Liam Coghlan (Joe Savino) and Donal Docherty (Frankie McCafferty). Somehow, these two are always called upon whenever anyone needs a handyman despite the fact that they mess up every project in which they become involved. Most of their misadventures involve their work for Brian, but some of them are completely independent of him. Perhaps my favorite this season is Donal’s decision to take in a bear abandoned by a traveling circus, while trying to hide his new friend from everyone, including Liam. I also love the episode in which Donal’s attempt to fix the television reception at Fitzgerald’s leads to the pub only getting the Spanish channel, whose soap operas keep the regulars riveted even though they can’t understand what anyone is saying. In several episodes, they find themselves in life-threatening situations, but they always manage to escape unscathed.

Ballykissangel is a thoroughly endearing drama with a lot of comedy mixed in. There’s a wonderful coziness about the series that recalls The Andy Griffith Show and Jan Karon’s Mitford books. Along with all of the colorful locals, there’s the benefit of the gorgeous landscape. Filmed in Avoca, a town a couple of hours away from Dublin, Ballykissangel is beautiful to look it, and the stories are every bit as enriching as the scenery. I was afraid that the show might not hang together very well after losing its central characters, but what the fourth season demonstrates is that the town itself is a character vital enough to withstand any changes to the cast that may come along.

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.

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.