'The Traitors' episode two review: There’s something seriously wrong with our education system
'What RTÉ are saving on the prize money, they’re spending on the catering budget — and Siobhán McSweeney’s wardrobe. Can I just say it’s worth every cent.' File picture
Whoo-whee! It’s all heating up now on
The Faithful and the Traitors all land in for breakfast, eager to see who survived the first night.
There’s a decent spread, in fairness, those chocolate croissants didn’t come from a cheap bakery, I’d say.
What RTÉ are saving on the prize money, they’re spending on the catering budget — and Siobhán McSweeney’s wardrobe. Can I just say it’s worth every cent.
As the gang make their way through a process of elimination and what looks like a mighty fine cheese board, they realise Dave the Dub is no more.
Siobhán, the saucy minx, ramps up the fabulousness in every scene. She sweeps into the breakfast room in a tartan skirt and a jigsaw puzzle of a moss green jumper. I’ve never loved her more.
“Look at ye, all the live ones,” she purrs, before delicately removing Dave’s portrait from the wall, caressing it for a moment, then shattering it on the ground, making them all gasp. Her comic timing is pure instinct dressed up as chaos.
“Harsh,” comes the heckle from behind a fresh scone and clotted cream.
“Ah lads,” says Siobhán, “if you think that’s shocking, he won’t be the last.”
The group try to figure out who the traitors are, and here is where it starts to get interesting. Michele mutters to Faye — “You’d want to watch your back.”
Nina is throwing out more names than a múinteoir on the first day of school. But then! Traitor Eamon, who thinks he’s soooo slick, says to fellow Traitor Paudie, “Do you have any name for tonight?”
What a gobshite! Paudie gives him a side eye that reminds you of his career before he retired. Prison officer. Is it Paudie’s curse to be surrounded by morons this episode?
When the group goes off to their mission (they’re annoying me now with the forest carry on, what about a good game of Pictionary for five grand?) his secret son, Beige Andrew, calls him "daddy" as he’s trying to find a circle of wood with an owl on it, or something.
I’m not sure what disgusts me more, a 33-year-old man calling his father "daddy" or the fact that the eejit can’t remember they’re supposed to be strangers.
No one seems to catch it, because they’re all too busy harassing Diane and Niall, the only two who know enough Irish to help complete the task.
If episode one is a damning indictment of our housing policies, episode two highlights the fact that there’s something seriously wrong with an education system that allows people to get through nine years of formal education without knowing what a fox is as gaeilge.
Niall emerges as the hero, as the group jump around chanting his name after winning the €5k, while poor Diane stands to the side, rightly miffed.
She speaks Irish every day! She’s from the Aran Islands!! She helped just as much as Niall!!!
“It’s COOL to speak Irish now,” she tells the camera. Only if you’re a young primary teacher with a mullet, Diane, girl.
Back to the round table, where they have to vote someone off.
Kelley, who has the quarest Donegal accent I ever heard, (she sounds like she wants us all to know she’s just back from her J1 or something) says she’s so stressed she could vomit.
They all tear the shite out of each other, with schnakey Eamon really stirring the pot.
Nick ramps up the accusations against Diane, and the herd give her the heave-ho.
Poor innocent Diane’s eyebrows go a little bit further up her face every time her name is called, and her voice gets squeakier as she says, “That’s fine”.
It is very clearly not fine.
Before she leaves, she reveals she was, in fact, a Faithful, and the group go into meltdown, with Vanessa having a full-on bawl for herself. Bit much, if you ask me.
Patrick lowers his chin and peers out from under his eyebrows, telling them all to think about how they’ve been played by the traitors, like a reasonable Dr Evil in the corner.
Later, the three Traitors throw on the capes and cugger and mugger about who to kill next. My call is Niall for letting his bilingualism go to his ceann.
