Derry Girls

Just as New York has Little Italy, LA has Little Mexico and Miami has Little Havana; my school has Little Ireland. Due to a dearth of teachers in this country, my school has taken the prudent step of outsourcing work to Ireland. In Ireland there are only three jobs: teacher, nurse, pub regular. Because these three occupations are constantly at full employment, it’s nigh on impossible for young people to join them. Their best hope is to come over here and take the good, honest British jobs that no one wants. A recent Guardian article chronicled how Brexit has dissuaded migrant workers from coming over here and picking fruit; as a consequence this has led to food rotting in UK fields. A similar fate would befall our children if Irish teachers didn’t man our schools. Without educated supervision, it wouldn't be long before their minds withered and died. Slack-jawed and imbecilic, they would undoubtedly waste their days authoring illiterate Snapchat 'stories' and re-tweeting- without irony-Donald Trump.

This is why my English department is populated with more Irish people than their own villages. And you know what: I like it. They’re all funny. And I say this without any self-deprecation: they’re all funnier than me. (They would agree with this). They’re just great craic. They think funny, they say funny, they talk … It’s that speed of thought that’s always impressed me. Whilst I’m thinking of a retort, they’ve already got three in. I’m sure they've yokels that have the process speed of a combine harvester, but I’m yet to meet one. Whether it’s north or south, the Irish know their way to a punch-line. They are people of sublime wit and fierce intellects …well, the ones that come here are anyway.

My eulogising over the Irish is because I’ve been enjoying all things Ireland these past few weeks. Two weeks ago, I wrote about Martin McDonagh’s Three Billboards and this week I’ve been enjoying the sitcoms Derry Girls and Young Offenders. I might come back to the latter at a later point, but for now I’ll concentrate on Derry. * Should I forget to go back to it, I urge you to watch Young Offenders on Netflix: set in Cork, the low-budget film centres on two scallies seeking social mobility in the retrieval of lost cocaine. It’s funny from first to last. The BBC have now commissioned it as six-part sitcom that you can currently enjoy on BBC3. 

A great film.

Derry Girls is a comedy set against the backdrop of the Irish Troubles. We know there’s trouble in the opening scene as we see Londonderry having the London spray-painted out of it. Being an English teacher, I’ve had to teach poems on the Troubles: Belfast Confetti and Storm on the Island being two of them. Despite this, I still find the history hard to get my head round. Cromwell: bad. Potato famine: terrible. Mo Mowlam: good. Some people want to be British, others don’t. This is my SparkNotes reading of the conflict.

The beauty of Lisa McGee’s script is that you learn while you’re laughing. You appreciate that there were moments during The Troubles where it was just a fucking inconvenience: having to take the long way to go on holiday because a march is moving through town, or missing your sun bed appointment because a bomb refuses to go off. In the final episode we see its true human cost where innocent lives are lost; the fact this scene is juxtaposed against another of children dancing makes you appreciate how joy and pain were never far away. Lacing her comedy brew with politics is inspired: it still tastes of laughter, only it carries more impact.

The Troubles.

As for that comedy, well it comes thick and fast. The title comes from a group of teen friends who are more concerned with surviving adolescence than the bomb. There’s Erin, Clare, Orla, Michelle and … James. James is an honorary Derry girl because his mum from England couldn’t look after him, leaving him in the care of his cousin Michelle’s family. He can’t go to a boys school because as a ‘limey’ he would have his accent ripped from him and fed to fists. As a result he attends Catholic school with the girls where he’s denied toilet facilities because using the ladies would make him ‘a pervert.’ Erin is our heroine; she lives at home with her Ma, Da, sister and Granda Joe. Her Granda Joe doesn’t like her Da Gerry and asks him frequently when he’s going to leave. Gerry is played by the Irish comedian Tommy Tiernan, a wide-eyed lyrical performer, playing against type here as the put-upon son-in-law. Next door is Aunt Sara, a woman more interested in diet plans than mothering Orla. Clare and Michelle are the friends: the first a scaredy-cat, one ill-equipped for the scrapes the gang find themselves in (under teacher interrogation, she's liable to fold quicker than an origamist); the second, a sex machine powered by cursed virginity. She would ride any boy given half a chance – even the Protestants: “there’s something really sexy about the fact they hate us so much.” Michelle is a girl who would willingly lay down her body for the sake of peace.

Derry Girls.

Over the course of the six episodes the girls – and James – manage to threaten a child, destroy a chip shop and lie about miracles while remaining truly sympathetic. Like The Inbetweeners we enjoy how their attempts to achieve populism are scuppered by their immoral personalities. We love the characters because they are everything popular people aren’t: intelligent, awkward, caustic and rubbish with the opposite - or same - sex. Unsurprisingly, it's a hit.

So with a second series on the way it looks like I'll be seeing the Irish at work and home. If you haven't let these Derry Girls into your living room yet, wise up and do it now. (Now said with a long vowel sound.)

Derry Girls is available on All 4