An Irish woman who recently dialled into Conan O’Brien’s comedy podcast claimed that, when it comes to reality TV, Irish people are obsessed with shows about houses. Buying houses, selling houses, building houses – we can’t get enough. O’Brien, good Irish American that he is, drew the wrong conclusion and assumed it was to do with sexual repression: Americans have their dating shows, we chaste Irish have Room To Improve.
Conan was talking through his shillelagh. And yet the question remains unanswered: why are our television makers obsessed with houses? One theory is that it’s all to do with the property crisis. We cannot own a home so we watch others remake theirs instead. But then you remember that Room to Improve, to pick a random example, has been on the air since 2007 – and thus bridges the gap from ghost estate to rental dystopia.
A more prosaic possibility is that property TV is cheap and straightforward – a double-whammy that RTÉ finds irresistible. Whatever the reason, Home Rescue: The Big Fix (RTÉ2, 9.30pm) is back. It’s had a facelift too, with architect Róisín Murphy stepping away for personal reasons (she hopes to return in the future). She is replaced by designer Dee Coleman, who lacks Murphy’s extroversion but brings a quiet intensity that plays well off builder Peter Finn.
A good property show is about more than just bricks and mortar. And human interest is smartly put front and centre as Coleman and Finn work their decluttering magic with tattoo artists Luke and Amy Martin, who live in Luke’s family home in Ballybrack in south Dublin.
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With two kids, their house is filled with joy. It is also unfortunately filled with bric-a-brac – including bags of baby clothes and the guitars Luke can’t bear to chuck. It is also, ever so slightly haunted. Peter lost both his mother and his brother and the memory of their presence in the house has made it difficult for the Martins to clean the house. Along with all that detritus, they fear they will be throwing out precious memories.
Coleman is sensitive to the emotional aspect of their journey. She nonetheless gets the job done – with a particular emphasis on banishing the “floor-drobe” – the space on the bedroom floor where some of us fling our clothes at night. “No more floor-drobe,” she says, having installed a basket for laundry and pegs for clothes Luke and Amy re-wear.
The big sticking point is Luke and those guitars. Amy is on the brink of tears when she contrasts her willingness to throw away so much and her husband’s determination to keep his clutter. “Luke’s not willing to make any sacrifice,” she says. “The reason I applied for this show was to make his home our home.”
His response is that he has no vices and that he loves his guitars. Coleman smooths over the crinkle by hanging the instruments on a wall – and after several days of hard work, the house is reborn.
“A bedroom once frozen in time has been reawakened,” says the narrator. Luke and Amy are appropriately chuffed. Coleman, meanwhile, looks quietly pleased – as well as she might. Her first venture into DIY telly is off to a flying start.
