Analysis: The gap between who we think we are and who we actually are is exactly where The Traitors Ireland lands
Like half the country, I have been glued to The Traitors Ireland. I came to the Irish version of the series with a lot of Traitors watching under my belt. From my experience of watching the American series (boggling), the Australian series (unhinged) and the UK series (irresistible), I wondered how the Irish series would fare.
As a nation, we love to marvel at our shared quirks: the terror of leaving the immersion on, the fear of the wooden spoon and the Sunday evening dread when the Glenroe theme tune came on. There’s a comfort in these clichés, as if they’re shorthand for who we are. We enjoy talking about what binds us as a nation, and delight in our nosiness, dressed up as neighbourly concern. We revel in retelling the same story three different ways and gleefully side-eye anyone with "notions."
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From RTÉ Radio 1's This Week, why is it so difficult to spot a liar?
The Traitors plays straight into these sides of us, turning gossip into a sport, and indulging that very Irish pastime of asking "who’s dead?" Watching a group of strangers bond in Slane Castle is an interesting enough premise on its own, but add our Irish instinct for whispering in corners and you’ve got pure gold.
The breakfast table scenes are particularly compelling viewing. Seeing the energy and genuine delight expressed by the players as their peers enter the breakfast room is great fun and really interesting, especially as we, the audience, know that some of the joy is not quite as genuine as is being expressed. Pastries and juice are turned into theatre where the best craic lies in what’s not being said. The manipulation and backstabbing never feels cruel, though. This is how the game works, and so we are free to hope for betrayals, enjoy the gossip, and cheer on "murders" with no guilt attached.
The round table banishments are mortifying in the best possible way. We are a nation for whom confrontation is like pulling teeth. We apologise if someone bumps into us. Sorry for existing, sorry for breathing. Yet at that round table, accusation must be laid bare, and it’s done in that particularly Irish way: not a full-blown row, but a mix of sidelong digs, hesitant accusations, and a tone of "I’m really sorry, but I think you’re a traitor and should probably be banished." We can cringe with giddy delight as we watch Irish passive-aggression play out on screen.
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From RTÉ Brainstorm, how RIP.ie became an unlikely cultural phenomenon
The Traitors really taps into our cultural fixation with "who’s dead?". No family WhatsApp group is complete without a screenshot from RIP.ie. Death notices yield plenty of community gossip and Irish mammies pride themselves on being informed on every passing in the parish, often with forensic detail. Talking about who has died is practically a national pastime, and with the body count rising night after night, The Traitors feeds this perfectly.
Presiding over it all is Siobhán McSweeney. Exaggerated and gloriously funny, she never loses the sharpness that makes you sit up and listen. Her mischievous glint hints that she is enjoying the nonsense as much as we are, half ready to giggle while still keeping the drama intact. She brings a very Irish sense of humour to screen: playful, self-aware, and a little bit wicked.
Her wardrobe is a wonder to behold. One moment, she’s sweeping into rooms draped in gowns fit for a gothic novel; the next, she’s strutting in sharp, tailored pieces and show-stopping headwear. Her performance is camp and theatrical, and rooted in our Irish instinct to poke fun at grandeur even while pulling it off. McSweeney makes the castle feel like a stage, where drama, comedy and a touch of mischief can all live happily together.
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From RTÉ Radio 1's Oliver Callan Show, Siobhán McSweeney discusses her role as the banríon of banishings on The Traitors Ireland
The most seductive thing about The Traitors is how we get to live through it from the comfort of our sofas. We swear we’d bluff with ease, spot the liars and keep a cool head. In truth, most of us would be red-faced, over-apologising and banished before the kettle had boiled.
That gap between who we think we are and who we actually are is exactly where The Traitors lands. There is deliciously voyeuristic entertainment in the whispers, the confrontation softened with apologies and in the thrill of "who’s gone now?". No wonder it feels so deeply, mischievously Irish, and no wonder we can’t stop watching.
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The views expressed here are those of the author and do not represent or reflect the views of RTÉ
