WITH a captive, couch bound audience sinking farther and farther into despair, there is a humanitarian need for something soothing and analgesic on television on Sunday evenings.
After the perfunctory "God slots" and the vicarious thrill of playing high brow Lotto on Antiques Roadshow, programmers usually resort to the suburban dementia of the Terry and June type of "light comedy dramas".
Little wonder it's the Samaritans' busiest hour.
When the BBC wanted to break the boredom, they assembled a nationwide team of "focus groups", a demographically correct cross sample of the viewing public, and asked them what they wanted to watch on Sunday evenings.
The public replied by saying that if it wasn't too much trouble, they wouldn't mind something a bit on the amusing side, something that was gentle and affectionate and not too taxing.
Ballykissangel was born.
BBC Northern Ireland's product ion of the trials and tribulations of an English priest in a small Irish town (Sundays at 7.45 p.m.) has proved to be the station's most successful debut series since EastEnders.
With 14 million viewers tuning in every week, Ballykissangel has been propelled into the top 5 per cent of the ratings, and even before this present six week run ends a second eight week run has been commissioned. "We're knocked out by the reaction," the BBC's publicity department says.
A lot of Ballykissangel AngloIrish appeal lies in its successful adaptation of the twin track process. Any television drama operates by setting up two opposing forces, the drama happening in their resolution. For a 50 minute programme, Ballykissangel is coming down with dramatic possibilities.
The programme's central character, Father Peter Clifford, plays many different opposing roles. First he is an Englishman in Ireland, second he is an urban character in a rural setting, third he is a young and progressive worker in conflict with his older and traditional superior, Father MacAnally (Niall Toibin). In a classic Freudian two step, the above three "tensions" are resolved by means of humour.
In short, there's enough going on to forget that at first glance the series seemed to conform to a John Hinde framed view of Ireland. Ballykissangel is, after all, set around a church and a pub.
It helps to know that the writer of the programme, Kieran Prendiville, spent a large part of his youth in Ireland and has said that he wanted an "affectionate, not a patronising" portrayal of Irish small town life.
The series was filmed in Avoca, Co Wicklow. The producers specifically wanted an Irish setting because they say "there is more of a sense of community, more of a sense of spirit in an Irish town than there would be in any similar place in England".
Publicists for Ballykissangel say that because of the scale of positive reaction to the show, the next series will be flagged as one of the "big guns" in the BBC's weekend schedule. "We've taken ITV to the cleaners with Ballykissangel," says one, "and a lot of that was the surprise factor. Next time out they'll be waiting for us."
Central, if not vital, to the show's success is the high detail level of unresolved sexual tension between Father Clifford and Assumpta Fitzgerald (Dervla Kirwan), the local pub owner.
On top of that is the notion of celibacy, and there is an added frisson, given that Father Clifford is not unattractive and Assumpta Fitzgerald is positively beautiful.
Unresolved sexual tension between the two main characters is a big ratings friendly device.
Best exploited in the series Moonlighting by Bruce Willis and Cybill Shepherd, and imitated by Mulder and Scully in The X Files, it is interesting to note that Moonlighting's ratings dropped considerably, and the series was axed, once the two characters finally got it together.
Without saying too much, there is a considerable heightening of the "will they, won't they?" factor in the last programme of the present series on St Patrick's Day. Whether this evolves into a Last Tango hi Avoca remains to be seen.
