- Culture
- 14 Feb 12
…Or your idea of a nightmare? Four gym obsessives, three party girls, one house in west Dublin and a whole load of cameras. Craig Fitzpatrick meets the cast of Tallafornia and assesses the Dublin ‘Situation’.
Cast your mind back, if you will, to the festive TV schedules of the late ’90s (bear with me, I’ll get on to the west Dublin massive in a moment) and you may recall the luminous host of Supermarket Sweep fronting a number of Christmas specials, replete with a bevy of B-list guests. It wasn’t great, but it had a great name – Winton’s Wonderland. It’s a nice example of a phenomenon that shows no signs of disappearing from creative brainstorming groups the world over.
Gimme a good enough pun, and I’ll give you a show. Which brings us to Tallafornia. Series creator Fintan Maguire has talked openly about its genesis and it has more in common with Dale than a ridiculous amount of fake tan. Maguire says that TV3’s director of programming, Ben Frow, loved the title and told him, “I don’t know what the programme is, but go make it.”
What he managed to cook up debuted with a pre-Christmas teaser episode that scored high ratings and is set to run well into the spring. A new addition to TV3’s Friday night schedule – which now amounts to ‘Take Me Out… To Tamangos And Then A 24 Hour Tescos’ – Tallafornia sticks 20-somethings from the Tallaght area in a house together and waits for sparks to fly. It’s a recipe that borrows liberally from the trashy likes of Jersey Shore and English cousins Geordie Shore and The Only Way Is Essex, aiming for in-fights and no small amount of raunch.
As early as last summer, the media were already whipping themselves up into a frenzy over what the magnificent Tallafornia seven would subject the nation to – sex, drinking and vagazzles. At the time of writing, there’s been small amounts of each, but nothing to stir much outrage. Compare it to James Joyce’s love letters, and the Irish really aren’t getting more vulgar. The cast, too, while slightly vacuous and self-obsessed, don’t come across as hideous and fame-hungry as their reality show predecessors overseas. There’s a bit of bickering and a song or two – basically a grown-up Gaeltacht supplanted to Tallaght, with the inhabitants speaking broken English rather than broken Irish.
Meeting the cast in Dublin’s Westbury hotel, they all suggest that they’re doing their area proud. “Football mad” Phil Penny, 22, comes from Kilnamanagh.
“The reputation of Tallaght is gonna turn around,” he says. “It’s gonna make Tallaght look even better than what it is now.”
Judging from the first episode, edited to play up the skangerisms and including a shot of the cast waving to a couple of hoodies in a shopping trolley, the producers might just have other motives.
As for Phil, a nice chap who blushes when his ‘irresistible to girls’ comment is brought up, he’ll settle for being the new Calum Best.
“Yeah, but a much better footballer!” he laughs. “Or else I could be the Irish Situation. Would I date Georgia Salpa? I’d marry that girl!”
Natalie Geraghty, 21, argues that, rather than merely rhyming with “California’, the show’s title represents a way of life. A life to be applauded.
“It’s different nowadays. Fellas are getting tans and looking well just as much as girls. I think what we’re getting across is a very positive thing about young people. Instead of a ‘recession depression’ thing.”
This means plenty of airtime given to gym work-outs and the screen glowing orange.
“Obviously nobody likes the Milky Bar Kid!” notes Jay Abbey. The oldest of the bunch at 30, Jay also comes across as the most likable, simply making witty observations to camera. They’re not quite Wildean in quality, but he does peg his new accommodation as “full of simpletons and psychos.” Jay himself strips on weekends under the stage name ‘The Iceman’.
“I just happened to be in the gym one time doing my bench pressing and there was this guy standing beside me,” says Jay. “He said, ‘Would you like to get some part-time work?’ I was like, ‘Er…!’ He said that I’d be good as a kissagram, because I’m real chatty. It’s more about talking than stripping. Obviously 21sts are a big thing in Ireland so everyone likes to chip in, you do a few hen’s parties… And then the weirder ones – the likes of the 80th birthday parties! It’s a break from the building site.”
What does he hope to get out of his Tallafornia experience?
“Well. I just missed out on the presidential election so… nah, I actually enjoy my job as a quantity surveyor. I didn’t do the show to get anything. I’m happy with me life.”
The baby of the group is 19 year-old Nikita Murray. She’s the one housemate who is a self-confessed fan of other shows of this ilk. She’d quite like to be famous.
“I can’t wait to be recognised!” she squeals. “Walking into a nightclub, having people go, ‘Oh my god, you’re from Tallafornia! Can I have a picture?’ I’ll love people coming up to talk to me. I could talk to a brick wall!”
Bodybuilder Cormac Branagan, 29, spends his days driving a taxi.
“I’ll keep on doing it. If it’s a busy night, I’m going to be out there! But you do get a bit of hassle in the taxi, so if it gets too much I’ll have to stop it. I normally keep myself to myself anyway, don’t really put myself out there.”
Needless to say, YouTube already has clips of an irritated Cormac being ‘interviewed’ by drunk passengers. Kelly Donegan, 22, is hoping for a more glamourous route. An Assets model and In Tallaght columnist Kelly’s looking to increase her profile.
“There are so many models in Ireland, so many good-looking girls. It’s important to have an extra edge, so hopefully it will give me that. I wouldn’t really compare myself to other models, I just want to be myself.”
By episode three, Kelly is snogging 26 year-old Blessington boy (the posh one then) David Behan and breaking up with her old boyfriend by text. We turn to David.
“I just want to keep my job. And hope that my mam and dad still talk to me,” he says. “It’s the Irish dream – free board (laughs). Have some fun, maybe meet a few ladies along the way, nothing wrong with that! But if not, I’m no worse off... unless everybody hates us, then we are all worse off!”
They can’t get more abuse than the Fade Street gang, surely?
“I didn’t see that,” says Kelly. “But funny enough I saw the slag-off of it – Fade Street Is Shite. That’s what it’s called! I kinda dabble in all kinds of programmes. The news and Boardwalk Empire…” David interjects. “What she’s trying to say is that she doesn’t have a long attention span!” Kelly fakes annoyance. “No, I’ve 200 channels, 70 choices!” Still, as long as Tallafornia’s on.
Advertisement
Tallafornia airs on Fridays at 10pm
on TV3.