Ireland has moved on and left Montrose behind

Another Friday night, another yawn for Ireland's once beloved late-night institution. The Late Late Show, our country's long-running chat show, has become a creaking relic kept alive by nostalgia more than necessity.

In its heyday, Gay Byrne's Late Late was unmissable weekend viewing, a hearth visitors gathered around to warm themselves in the glow of current affairs and controversy. Byrne had his finger on the pulse, teasing out our national neuroses with insight and just the right dash of impudence. His show spoke to an Ireland shaking off the clerical coil and stale parochialism while encouraging the flexing of new freedoms.

But as the digital age has shattered old TV viewing habits, the Late Late looks ever more like a relic of an already vanished Ireland, grasping for relevance. Its slavish formula has barely altered across decades: the incumbent RTÉ host quizzes trending celebrities, an enervating parade of homogeneity as exciting as alphabetised tax records.

Once a mirror held up to dynamic social change, the show feels stuck in a nostalgic time warp. The Ireland Gaybo probed with a mixture of scepticism and mischief has drifted far beyond Montrose's horizon. A new generation emerging struggles to recognise themselves or their country in the Late Late's faded portrait, and they are not particularly interested anyway.

Ryan Tubridy presented the show for over a decade, an affable franchise custodian rather than a trailblazing host. I loved him on the radio but found the physical incarnation on television unpalatable. I like my chat show hosts to be sanguine while playing foil to an enthralling guest. Tubridy, energetic, spry, and alarmingly loquacious, never induced in me that pensive forgetfulness. I only partially engaged with his guests but remained acutely aware of Tubridy's enervating presence. I need not outline Tubridy's demise when he failed to justify his astronomical salary, and the rest is, as they say, history.

With ratings sliding, RTÉ has turned to Patrick Kielty, a genial comedian whose wit and warmth have briefly lifted the torpor during an otherwise predictable season premiere. However, the long-term issues remain. Kielty has promise but is just one man; it will take more than a presenter change to revive this ailing patient.

The fundamental problem is not who sits in the host's chair but how uninspired the chair and the concept around it have become. The Late Late feels less like an essential weekend viewing than a comfortable rut for Ireland's cultural establishment. Just another night of Montrose back-slapping in the RTÉ canteen.

If our state broadcaster wants to recapture lost viewers, it must take bold risks. The Late Late needs more than cosmetic changes, but a format rethink.

Ireland has changed radically since Gay Byrne's reign, but our national TV seems stuck in his shadow. Nostalgia will not suffice. The Late Late's decline reflects a broader malaise at RTÉ and other national institutions resting on faded glories. The question is whether RTÉ has the vision and courage to provide it.

In his prime, Gay Byrne had a talent for tapping into the Irish psyche - our hopes, fears, hypocrisies and goals. He coaxed out conversations many wanted to have, but others wished left unsaid. Byrne was provocative but rarely reckless, daring but not foolhardy. He challenged us enough to make the Late Late feel edgy or even dangerous. Who could possibly forget the Bishop and the nightie debacle?

Tubridy, by contrast, came off as likable but complacent, a man resting on inherited laurels rather than earning his keep. The payments controversy crystallised Tubridy's disconnect, and the enormous salary was a nagging insult to taxpayers funding those wages. Tubridy paid lip service to the nation's mood during hardship and belt-tightening. He personified an insular Montrose culture that has lost touch with the people who ultimately pay its bills.

Many now refuse to pay the annual TV license, asking what unique value our creaking state broadcaster offers in an age of limitless global on-demand content. The digital zeitgeist has left RTÉ looking flat-footed and bereft of ideas. RTÉ's top brass are deluded in thinking their audience will stick with them out of blind loyalty and habit.

Ireland has moved on and left Montrose behind. The Late Late now feels less like a vital mirror of the national mood than an insular cabaret for RTÉ insiders. The original Saturday night slot occupied an exalted triune in rural Ireland, preceded by the weekly bath and followed by obligatory Mass on Sunday morning. From being a show that was once unmissable for family viewing, it competes with a 24-7 customisable and personalised media feed catering to the most eclectic tastes. Now, as a nation, we shower at a whim and daily. The immersive bath and Late Late Show are relics of thrift and penury, not reflections of our present excess. Today, many wouldn't even notice if it didn't air at all, yours truly included.

As a newcomer, Kielty may bring wit and talent, but no amount of presenter polish can transform a stale format. Kielty will freshen the tone briefly, but what's really needed is an overhaul of the entire show's culture and purpose. Or a decisive acknowledgement of its obsoletion followed by a quick and unfussed deletion. Nobody died when Live At 3 was summarily cancelled, despite the faux media hand-wringing.

The decline reflects a broader malaise at Ireland's major cultural institutions, relying on past glories while failing to replenish their creative wells or connect with younger generations.

Ireland's broadcasting establishment has been lulled into complacency by years of unquestioned dominance, and the audience has moved on. If waning confidence in Montrose mirrors the broader struggles of legacy media against the digital tide, younger Irish eyes and ears now turn to Netflix, YouTube or podcasts rather than the tyranny of RTÉ's schedule.

Nostalgia will not revive the Late Late's glory days any more than incense and lace albs have brought back Mass attendance. Ireland has changed radically, and the Late Late Show is a cultural institution that needs to catch up to the curve. Its once devoted audiences continue to age without renewal.

The national broadcaster needs root-and-branch evolution, shedding the cobwebs and embracing an unknowable future. Paying a big name like Kielty is pointless if the show remains stale beneath the gloss. The problems run deeper than any one man or role.

Ireland's media landscape has fragmented into niches. In this hyper-saturated world, branding and unique approaches are everything. Nostalgia has a place but must be balanced by innovation. The question for the Late Late is whether it can radically rethink its identity for a new age. Otherwise, it risks becoming a well-funded relic sustained by institutional inertia rather than public demand. To some extent, we are already there.

An appetite remains for thoughtful Irish voices making sense of a complex world. But more than trusting old formulas will be required. The Late Late's decline warns all institutions that public affection is contingent on evolving relevance with the times.

If RTÉ can rekindle Byrne's blend of mischief and insight while embracing the future, not the past, something of value might yet emerge from the ashes. But if Montrose keeps rearranging the same old deckchairs, this doomed flagship will sink into irrelevance while feeding off already perished cultural roots. The only way forward is to find the courage to completely reinvent Late Late. The other choice is slow oblivion or cancellation. Tick tock.