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TV REVIEW & LISTINGS

RTE’s flashy delivery driver documentary got lost on the way

The Sunday Times
DANIELA ALFIERI

Secrets of a Delivery Driver
RTE1, Mon

The Records Show
RTE1, Sun

Good things come in small packages. However, as online shoppers will attest, the most disappointing products often come in the most extravagant cardboard packaging that is almost impossible to open and crammed with padding. Worse still, the hardest-to-open parcels are usually the ones that have to be resealed and returned following the discovery that the shipped item bears scant resemblance to the picture or blurb that prompted the purchase.

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Clunky packaging had a dragging effect on Secrets of a Delivery Driver, a documentary in which a modest quantity of valuable material was all but lost amid a shedload of flimflam. The venture seemed to promise a lifting of lids and a loosening of tongues about the dark side of home shopping, but beneath the hard sell the programme was neither hard-hitting nor especially revealing. Though stylishly shot, it had a sleepy atmosphere, and not only because so much of it was filmed at night.

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Secrets were conspicuously scarce and retail trends were celebrated rather than scrutinised. On occasion the programme’s rose-tinted perspective mutated into florid promotion, most notably during a segment on Amazon. Meanwhile the definition of delivery driver was stretched so wide as to be rendered nearly meaningless.

Convenience is a laborious business. The appearance of a parcel on the doorstep, sometimes within hours of ordering, seems magical. But as with all magic tricks, the illusion only works because of extensive backstage manoeuvrings.

Secrets of a Delivery Driver was at its best when it kept a clear eye on the mechanics of the delivery trade and the people behind the wheels. The core of the film was made up of ride-along reports, each chronicling a typical shift for a driver. En route we heard musings about how our growing home-delivery habit is changing society.

In Dublin we met Sam, a young Turk who delivers takeaways. Sam loves the job and has become an expert on the capital’s postcodes: he bases himself on the south side because, he says, “it’s impossible to get tips” on the north side, and bitter experience has taught him to avoid the city centre, where delivery riders are often attacked by gangs.

The film took pains to dispel the myth that delivery culture is a new thing. Proceedings opened with a flashback to simpler times featuring footage of horse-drawn carts and messenger boys on bicycles. But now, the programme argued, we are on the cusp of an upheaval. The introduction of delivery by drone will remove the human touch in a way that’s likely to be socially detrimental.

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We spent time with several volunteers for community enterprises that specialise in face-to-face encounters. In Co Mayo we accompanied two feisty women from Meals on Wheels, an impeccable delivery system for tasty banter as well as nourishing food. We also hung out with the civic-minded motorheads of Blood Bikes, a charitable association of motorcycle enthusiasts who transport blood, test samples and other medical necessities.

Each of these stories were engaging, informative and rich in personality, but it was the clumsy attempt to shoehorn them all together that robbed the programme of coherence.

Secrets of a Delivery Driver was the final instalment in a three-part documentary series about subcultures and their inner workings. The first explored the growing fascination with dancing and dance contests, while the second concentrated on sideline action within amateur sports. They worked well, but here the format buckled beneath the complexity and scale of its subject matter. Lots of ground was covered, but the film failed to deliver the goods.

The Records Show was the opening delve in a two-part trawl though documents at the National Archives. Presented by Katie Hannon, the series promises insights into pivotal moments in the evolution of the Irish state, using background gleaned from recently released ministerial files and other official material. So far, however, the programme seems timid and formulaic — a shuffling of dusty papers masquerading as a page-turning reappraisal. Too many of the stories are old and dog-eared. Moreover, too much of the “previously undisclosed” details barely qualify as footnotes.

The study of state archives is a time-honoured TV standby and the series at least tries to energise the genre. Hannon makes for an alert and amiable guide. As well as clambering through documents, she hits the road, travelling across the country to examine the fallout from decisions chronicled in the file boxes. Her interviews are relaxed but effective.

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The Records Show marks a shift of emphasis in programming related to the Decade of Centenaries. Its focus on the nuts and bolts of nation building, rather than the blood and bile of warfare, is a welcome change, but despite the vast territory open for exploration, the programme cleaves to well-trodden ground. Much of last Sunday’s episode involved yet another ramble through the saga of Ireland West Airport, an oft-told tale to which it added little of value.

Meanwhile less hackneyed chapters, such as the state’s commitment to social housing, were covered with a mere glance. Overfamiliar history recounted from overfamiliar angles is just old news.