On Liveline, Kieran Cuddihy receives a gift from the radio gods

Religious observance has been declining in Ireland for years, but the Catholic Church can still answer the prayers of those souls searching for memorable radio, as Kieran Cuddihy discovers on Liveline (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays).

What starts out as an unpromising repast of meagre ingredients is transformed into a bountiful feast of unforgettable listening when a marginal theological argument is enlivened by divine intervention, or at least a call from the fervently faithful.

In truth, Cuddihy knows what he’s doing when he discusses the claim of the former president Mary McAleese that baptising babies breaches their human rights: raising religious-themed controversies is a well-thumbed page in the Liveline playbook.

The first caller, John, supports McAleese’s notion, explaining how he left the church by excommunicating himself. (It’s a thing, apparently.)

But Cuddihy’s next caller, Patrick, elevates the conversation to an altogether higher plane. He starts with a novel defence of childhood Baptism: “Jesus himself was baptised by John the Baptist in the river Jordan,” he says before conceding a minor caveat: “I know he was an adult man then.”

Patrick then recalls drifting from Catholicism as a young man only to become so scared that he returned to his faith. “I didn’t really believe in the Devil,” he says. “But I’ve learned since the greatest tool in the Devil’s workshop is for us to think he doesn’t exist.”

There’s no doubting the depth of Patrick’s beliefs, which clearly provided personal redemption after difficulties with illness and alcohol, but the salvation he describes also has a luridly hypnotic frisson, however unintentional.

He recounts seeking out a priest to exorcise him late at night and says firmly that everyone has their own guardian angel. “That’s why our parents got us baptised as early as possible, because we would be protected,” he says, returning briefly to the topic under discussion.

Cuddihy is careful not to mock his personable guest but, equally, seems unsure how to approach him, with his questions veering from the rational – “Was it a process of elimination that brought you back to the Catholic Church?” – to the unworldly: “Are they all around us, these evil spirits?”

But Cuddihy is also conscious of his obligations as host of Liveline, keeping Patrick on air as long as possible; it’s not every day you receive a gift from the radio gods.

A more sombre atmosphere prevails the next day, as Cuddihy deals with the charged issue of assisted dying. He speaks to Megan, whose mother took her own life at a Swiss assisted-dying facility.

“I had no idea what she was planning,” says the audibly upset Megan, who was caring for her newborn child when she got the news via WhatsApp. Megan’s distress is understandable: though her mother had a history of depression, she wasn’t terminally ill.

It’s a stunningly difficult conversation. This time, Cuddihy worries that he’s keeping his guest on the airwaves for too long, sounding authentically concerned as they finish: “You’re going to do your best to talk to someone, aren’t you?”

The mood doesn’t get any brighter afterwards, as callers argue whether assisted dying should be legalised in Ireland. Damian, who favours such a move, remembers accompanying a relative who decided to end her life in Switzerland because of debilitating illness: “If there’s such a thing as a beautiful death, that was it.”

Elma Walsh, whose late son Donal campaigned against teenage suicide, takes a different view, fearing that old or sick people might feel pressured to follow such a course.

The mood is reflective rather than contentious, particularly when Cuddihy hears from Maureen, who has been diagnosed with stage-four throat cancer. In deceptively calm tones, Maureen outlines the “absolutely horrific death” she faces while lamenting that she’s not allowed to end her life before then.

Cuddihy initially sounds thrown by his caller’s stark tale, eventually asking whether she fears dying. “I’m afraid of the pain and suffering before it,” Maureen replies; as for what happens after, “I really don’t give a shit ... but I would like to control how I get there.”

Listening to this, qualms about voyeurism naturally stir. But it’s an undeniably powerful episode, the emotionally wrenching stories feeding into a wider issue – in other words, a textbook edition of Liveline.

With Cuddihy set to mark his first year as host, it’s timely too, seemingly vindicating his appointment as Joe Duffy’s successor. Though the suspicion remains that Cuddihy’s formidable broadcasting gifts are underused in sustaining an increasingly outdated legacy franchise, it’s an encouraging omen, even if the grim topic doesn’t lift the spirits.

A similarly mixed verdict applies to the rest of RTÉ Radio 1’s weekday line-up as it approaches the first anniversary of the station’s much-hyped relaunch. Though it boasts several strong performers, the rejigged schedule still hasn’t really gelled, to the point that one wonders if it ever will.

There are obvious high points: on Today with David McCullagh, the host brings an enjoyably droll element to his midmorning slot, while Katie Hannon and Colm Ó Mongáin have struck up a lively partnership on Drivetime, though their programme’s impact is curtailed by its baffling 6pm end time.

Other moves haven’t worked quite so well; the chirpy musical selections of Louise Duffy sound somewhat adrift in midafternoon, certainly compared with her previous midday berth.

The biggest disappointment, however, remains the expanded slot given to Oliver Callan. Before the shake-up Callan’s one-hour 9am show provided a welcome palate-cleanser after Morning Ireland. Now, bumped to 11am and given an extra 60 minutes of airtime, the satirist-turned-host’s output is more uneven, with too many items smacking of filler.

His mix of easy charm and acidic wit can still surprise: he brings an unpatronising delight to Tuesday’s chat with the eccentric Roscommon barber Paddy Joe Burke. On the other hand, his log-rolling interview with Miriam O’Callaghan about her new TV documentary has a relentlessly upbeat quality ripe for mockery by Callan’s impressionist alter-ego.

Far from reinventing Radio 1, it seems clear that the remade schedule still trades in the station’s traditional fare – chat, current affairs, music – only now with disorienting timeslots and infuriatingly generic theme tunes. All this when RTÉ is under scrutiny for recruiting Ger Gilroy from Newstalk for a lucrative sports podcast. As it boldly ventures farther into the digital sphere, one hopes the cash-strapped network isn’t losing faith in the power of radio.

[ Podcast review: Ger Gilroy brings maverick spirit to HowlerOpens in new window ]

Moment of the week

By way of underlining the on-air chemistry between Katie Hannon and Colm Ó Mongáin on Drivetime (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays), the pair are by turns revealing and irreverent on Monday, when they explore why people cry with Ruth Freeman of Research Ireland.

The discussion explodes some myths – such as the notion of having a “good cry” – while reinforcing others: men do indeed weep far less than women. Hannon reveals that since becoming a mother, she gives in to tears more frequently than before, though Ó Mongáin is less forthcoming when his colleague quizzes him on the matter.

“I won’t ask you live on radio when was the last time you cried, Colm,” Hannon says wryly. “Well, it would be right now if you did,” Ó Mongáin replies, cheerfully playing to male stereotype.