‘Mrs Brown's Boys, Season 5' review: It's like Brendan O'Carroll is taking the piss out of viewers with this lazy, lacklustre, dire show

Irish Independent

2 days ago

It hit its BBC One peak in 2013 when it was the UK's most-watched programme on Christmas Day, with 9.4 million people tuning in on the night.
The numbers have been going steadily down ever since. The last time it featured in the UK Christmas Day top 10 was in 2020, when it pulled in 3.8 million.
Last year's Christmas episode – which, in an unwelcome first for the series, was shunted into an 11.05pm graveyard slot (not exactly a vote of confidence from the BBC, you have to think) – attracted just 2.1 million, its smallest ever audience.
The ITV News pulled in more. In contrast, the day's most popular programme, the finale of Gavin & Stacey, which occupied the prime-time slot that used to belong to Mrs Brown's Boys, drew 12.3 million.
There's always been a massive gulf between what critics think of Mrs Brown's Boys and what the public think. But last Christmas, both sides were, for a change, in complete agreement that the episode was atrocious, maybe the worst since the series first hit TV in 2011.
Whether it likes or not, the Beeb is stuck with the series for the next year and a half, no matter how low the ratings go
Even self-confessed fans took to social media to say the series was past its best and should be axed. Under normal circumstances, such a sharp decline in popularity would already have resulted in cancellation. But these are far from normal circumstances.
Back in 2020, the BBC signed a deal with O'Carroll to make more Mrs Brown's Boys episodes, including Christmas specials, until at least the end of 2026. Whether it likes or not, the Beeb is stuck with the series for the next year and a half, no matter how low the ratings go.
While it's unlikely that bad reviews – even from fans – and shrinking viewing figures will dent O'Carroll's seemingly bulletproof self-confidence, Friday's episode, the first of four, suggests calling it a day would have been the best option.
It certainly would have been the best option for the hard-pressed BBC, which can't really afford to squander resources on shows that aren't bringing in the viewers. But it might have been the best option for O'Carroll too.
None of us can climb inside the man's head and know what he's thinking. Even for someone who's never been a fan of his comedy, though, Friday's opener looks like the work of someone who's running on fumes. The series feels thoroughly exhausted.
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Mrs Brown's Boys has always been a deliberately ramshackle affair. That's part of its appeal to fans. They love O'Carroll's ad-libs, which are usually funnier than what's in the script, his fourth wall-breaking asides and the way he sometimes steps out of character or even walks from one part of the set to another in the middle of a scene.
One thing I like about the series is the way it takes the piss out of the artificiality of TV sitcoms by showing us the set and camera crew at the start. Watching Friday's opener, however, it feels like O'Carroll is taking the piss out of viewers as well. It really is dire stuff – shapeless, lazy and lacklustre.
Agnes' daughter Cathy (Jennifer Gibney) is making a podcast about women's issues with a producer called Roger (a guest appearance by Simon Delaney).
Inevitably, it's hijacked by Agnes and her pals Winnie (Eilish O'Carroll) and Birdie (June Rogers), who end up being the real stars.
It all drags on depressingly for what feels like the slowest-moving half hour since man began measuring time
The jokes, which you can see coming a mile off, are feeble and the coarseness seems to have been amped up even more. Agnes wants to know why Cathy has suddenly started calling her 'Mummy' and talking in a posh voice.
'Roger wants to get on top of my diction,' she says.
'As long as you don't get on top of his diction,' says Agnes.
'Roger's looking to exploit a gap in the market,' says Cathy.
Birdie pipes in: 'I've had a few Rogers exploit my gap in the market!'
'The podcast market!' says Cathy.
'Oh, sorry, I thought we we're talkin' about fanny!' roars Birdie, with the comic finesse of a jackhammer.
It all drags on depressingly for what feels like the slowest-moving half hour since man began measuring time, before fizzling out with the now customary dollop of sentimental slop.
It's best summed up by another line from Agnes: 'What a load of shite!'
Rating: One star