As The 2 Johnnies return with their Lock In, Johnny B and Johnny Smacks talk to Claire O'Mahony about being authentic, keeping lots of plates spinning and why the Irish heartland is also the heart of their show.
There’s a particular kind of energy that comes with The 2 Johnnies: part chaos, part charm, and that combination is what makes their comedy entertainment show, The 2 Johnnies Late Night Lock In. The hit series, filmed in a real pub, returns for a third season, and the pair couldn’t be happier.
"We are delighted to be back," says Johnny O’Brien, aka Johnny B. "We’re finally getting the hang of it, we feel. Season two was better than season one, and I think season three is better again. We’ve refined it; we’re like a fella welding. We’ve chipped away the slack, and we’re getting to the good stuff.
"We’ve crazy games out on the street, people coming on doing the parish quiz. I think you’re going to find it funnier. There’s more laughs, more great chats, and we’re getting more confident as hosts."
Filmed in a working bar, Late Night Lock In thrives on spontaneity. "It is fairly chaotic, to be honest," laughs Johnny Smacks, otherwise known as Johnny McMahon.
"Our lead cameraman, Stuart, goes around with this camera that must weigh 50 kilos, and he just bobs and weaves in between the crowd. Sometimes people stand out in front of him, and he has to shove them out of the way. But that’s the beauty of it. We stand for chaos.
"That’s what we are – chaos on the TV, chaos in the room. There’s enough bad things happening in the world. We’re just about making people happy, entertaining people and having a laugh."
It’s been more than a year since they left their 2FM breakfast show, and neither has looked back. "I think we’re happier," says Smacks.
"I don’t know about 2FM, but we’re definitely happier. We have other things we wanted to do; we’ve grown our podcast massively, we were number two in the UK a couple of weeks ago. We’ve released an album that went to number one, we sold out the 3Arena, 20,000 people in St Anne’s Park [at their Dublin festival, Pints in a Field]. We’re back on TV, and there’s loads more for us to achieve. Keep the foot down and keep working hard; that’s the most important thing for us."
Do they miss anything from the 2FM days? "The canteen," Smacks deadpans, before adding that while they enjoyed the radio calls and audience interaction, they’ve brought that same connection to their podcast.
"We look at those days fondly, and anyone who listened to us, I think they’re all listening to the podcast now, which is great."
For Johnny B, their focus is on staying authentic. "We always try to concentrate on what we can control: the content of the show," he says. "Whether it’s the television show or the podcast, we’re trying to make it the truest reflection of ourselves. We’re not competing with anyone else. The challenge is to take what makes the podcast work and bring that essence to TV. It’s exciting, and we get to work with great people who teach us a lot."
They’ve both spoken in the past about burnout, citing it as one of the reasons for their 2FM departure. These days, balance comes more easily. "We’re just having so much craic doing what we’re doing, and we find time to enjoy life," says Johnny B.
"Most of what we do isn’t tiring, it’s energising. We’ve added more people to the team, so we’re better set up now. I spend a lot of time walking the dog in the evenings. We’ve structured ourselves to save energy for the things that only we can do."
When did it hit them that their success had become so huge? "It’s like asking a lad who’s won an All-Ireland," says Johnny B. "You don’t look around in the middle of it thinking, 'Yes, we’re in an All-Ireland.’ There’s always something new happening, something else to work on. We don’t be sitting around thinking, ‘This is great.’ There just isn’t enough hours in the day for all the ideas we have."
Smacks agrees: "It’s like driving a car with no rear-view mirror. We’re never looking back or patting each other on the back. There’s loads more we want to do. St Anne’s Park? What’s next, how can we make it bigger? Even the TV show – how can we make it better? We want to grow outside of Ireland, too. There’s a whole world out there for us."
Their reach is already international, with a UK top-ranking podcast and a growing audience abroad. "Ireland has a rich tradition of doing well overseas," says Smacks. "We did a US tour a few years ago. People love Ireland and Irish people, so we resonate. A lot of our stuff is about small-town life. England and America have that too – it translates. I think people like us because we’re ordinary lads who used to have real jobs. That’s relatable, whether you’re in Boston or Ballylooby."
Irish humour, Johnny B believes, is a huge part of their success. "It’s very good-natured and often silly and surreal," he says. "Irish people can slip into a new reality very easily. Someone might walk into a pub and start making up a story just to rise one person in the room, and everyone instantly gets it. We love that strangeness. Every small town has some fella who takes off his shoes and eats an orange out of his pocket. People are like, ‘Oh, yeah, he's the orange man. He's some craic’. We love the nicknames, the silliness. That’s Ireland."
He worries that a more performative version of humour online sometimes misses that point. "Some people think it has to be incredibly clever or satire, but just the mess and the good-natured slagging, that’s who we are. We’ve always had that sense of wonder and silliness. Look back at Brendan Grace or Pat Shortt – it was real messing."
That connection with live comedy is something they’re proud to champion on Lock In. "It’s been important for us to have stand-up on the show because there aren’t many opportunities for that now," says Johnny B. "We’ve had the likes of Shane Todd and Chris Kent on, brilliant Irish comedians. Andrew Ryan from Cork is on this season; he should be selling out the 3Arena. I can’t wait for people to see them."
Does the current era of ‘cancel culture’ make comedy harder? "It depends what you want," says Johnny B. "Being cancelled means some people don’t like you but not everyone’s going to like you anyway. You only need your own supporters. If you want to work on national radio or TV, maybe you need broader support, but lots of comedians do five nights in Vicar Street because their own crowd love them. That’s enough."
Asked which medium they’d keep if forced to pick, both answer instantly: the podcast.
"Everything revolves around it," says Smacks. "The reason we’re on telly is because of the podcast. The reason we got a radio show was because of the podcast. Every week, we put out an hour and a half, full-video show on Spotify. That’s our own TV show, and we self-produce it. We love the looseness of it and the buzz we get from it."
Still, being public-facing has its challenges. "If you’re not feeling funny, just wear a hat and get someone else to go into the deli for you," Smacks jokes. "Or just stay at home. But honestly, when people stop you for a photo or to chat, that’s lovely. It means they like what you do. We were long enough working where no one cared, so it’s nice to be appreciated."
They’ve also learned to tune out the noise. "Media will always want clicks," says Smacks. "People are going to write articles – that’s just part of it." Johnny B adds: "It’s a sign of how media’s changing. If you want to reach young people, podcasting is the place. You can do long-form interviews, songs, sketches or just take the p*ss. We don’t take much notice of what’s written. We wake up wanting to write something funny, work on a character or do a new song. That’s what matters. The rest is just noise."
Despite all the travel and success, home remains their anchor. "We spend most of our time in Tipperary," says Johnny B. "We both live in Cahir. I love walking the dog, going down the town for something to eat. Myself and herself might go for a pint, walk home. Our studio’s in Cahir too – people call in and if you pop by, you might end up being interviewed. We’re looking out the window now at the co-op and a big blue-and-gold Tipp flag swinging off the fence. That’s a beautiful sight."
He believes small-town Ireland still has an authenticity that connects people. "It’s easy now. Anyone can grab a phone and start making content. The more authentic it is, the better. Everyone’s their own station. If you’re making content that’s a true reflection of yourself, people will relate."
Their audience spans generations, as highlighted by their upcoming gigs at the INEC in Killarney. "It’s a broad demographic," says Smacks. "At the INEC, two shows are over-18s and one’s for kids – you’ve five and six-year-olds singing When I Play for the County. Then you’ve 60-somethings coming to the 3Arena. On TV, probably older people, and the podcast is everyone from 18 to 65. It’s nearly 50-50 men and women. We love everyone who listens."
Do they still get nervous? "No," says Smacks. "The most nervous I’ve ever been was singing in a nursing home for 10 people. But going out to the 3Arena, no nerves, just excitement. I always say, I wish I was in the crowd to experience it as a fan, because the mood is so good. There’s no fighting, no nonsense, just people having a proper night out. Fans even meet up beforehand, people who’ve come on their own make friends through the gigs. That’s lovely, and that’s what The 2 Johnnies is."
That sense of community extends to Late Night Lock In, too. "I want to thank everybody who came and was part of the audience for the TV show," says Johnny B. "It’s filmed in a pub in Screen, County Meath, and the local community has been brilliant. In a little way, we’ve probably helped revitalise their bar and shop. They even added a deli counter since last season. That’s a beautiful thing, rural Ireland helping each other out. Now, of a Tuesday, the pub is absolutely lepping."
