05-06-2025
Hell for Leather: How we made RTÉ's epic new GAA series
Colm O'Callaghan, RTÉ's Head of Specialist Factual Content, introduces Hell for Leather, an epic new 5-part RTÉ One series, delving into the role of Gaelic football in the sporting, cultural and social history of modern Ireland.
RTÉ's history of hurling series The Game was first broadcast in May 2018. Made by Crossing the Line Productions and directed by Gerry Nelson, it was a cinematic and wide-ranging undertaking that, in its style, execution and ambition, resonated quickly. I've written previously here about why we commissioned it.
As soon as the curtain came down on that series, our thoughts turned quickly to an obvious next step: a similar strand about Gaelic football. The seven years its taken to finally get that five-parter - Hell for Leather - to air, is worthy of a drama serial in itself and there were times when I felt we were never going to see it home at all. Needless to say, I'm glad we stayed the journey.
As tends to be case with large-scale commissioned projects, I took many meetings and did an awful lot of talking before even formally asking RTÉ to consider supporting it. The primary issue was with what had just gone before it and with how effectively The Game had landed. Should we even bother, I asked the creative team at Crossing the Line, to attempt something similar with a sport often regarded by purists as the less aesthetic and less skilful of the family of national games?
Any misgivings I had were quickly put to bed by a couple of trusted friends and regular sounding boards. Michael Moynihan and Diarmuid O'Donovan are fellow clubmen of mine from the fabled Glen Rovers on the northside of Cork city, even if Diarmuid is arguably better known for his involvement with the football side of that club, Saint Nicholas, and his work in a variety of roles at county level. Sharp, serious men both, they sketched out a provisional list of potential themes, topics, chapters and cast members for the team to chew over and flesh out. They didn't so much ease my mind as bend it in a variety of directions and, by doing so, turned much of what I'd ever thought about Gaelic football on its head.
The game in Ulster, industry and All-Ireland success in the midlands, the eventual dawning of the women's game, Kerry's eternal majesty, the Jacks and the Culchies, Dulchies, Heffernan, Dwyer, the mighty men from Down, the mighty women of Cork. Seán Boylan, Mick O'Connell, the golden age of wireless, Sister Pauline Gibbons, Jim McGuinness and Jim Gavin. Bringing boardroom thinking to breeze-blocked dressing rooms. Renaissance, reformation, age of empires, true leaders and the days of our lives: it was up to director Gerry Nelson to shape the mine of history, some of it happening before him in real time, into tangible blocks.
Sport is often seen as a reflection of life and, in this regard, its possible to trace the development of modern Ireland since way before independence through the prism of Gaelic football. Stitching this editorial thread into the heart of Hell for Leather was always a tall order but one that producers John Murray, Jessica McGurk and Siobhán Ward managed with typical elan. So in as much as the series tracks the evolution and history of the game as comprehensively as time allows, it also tells a story of Ireland.
With The Game already under the belts of the production team – as well as 2020's one-off, Christy Ring: Man and Ball – the doors opened far more easily this time around. Jarlath Burns, who has since become the most recent Uachtarán of Cumann Lúthchleas Gael, was an enthusiastic voice from early on and helped unlock a variety of editorial lines. In every club and parish that we approached during the long gestation of this series – and there were many – the welcome was fierce and the humour was always good.
So, what kept us? When we first discussed the potential for a series, I'm not sure if any of us expected the production period to endure for so long. But then neither could we have foreseen Covid, an All-Ireland final played during a lockdown and the consequences for sport, film-making and life in general during that time.
Projects of this scale also require multiple funding and finance strands too and, to this end, we're grateful to Coimisiún na Meán, the Department of Finance, the Gaelic Athletic Association and to Collen, our generous sponsors, without whom the project could never have taken flight.
And then there's the more mundane and practical stuff. Many of those featured in the series are proud, fabled former players for whom modesty has long prevented them from opening up about their own heroics and the scale of their achievements. The likes of Mick O'Connell, Seán O'Neill, Jimmy Gray and Seán Murphy are among many who decorate this production but for whom numerous site visits and no little persuasion was necessary. Others, despite our best and enduring efforts, just couldn't or wouldn't commit.
All history is contestable, of course, and this too is the case with Hell for Leather. How can one realistically do justice to such a varied and complicated past in just 250 minutes of airtime? It is, therefore, to the credit of Gerry Nelson and series editor Andrew Hearne that the series delivers far more than the sum of its parts and still stays true to its purpose as agreed way back at the start.
Gaelic football, flush with its recent re-enhancements, is enjoying a renewed sense of freedom, and talk of its latest existential crisis has abated, at least for now. As the former Kerry captain, Dara Ó Cinnéide told Nelson, "at the end of the day it's a game … but it's this bloody game we love so much". As a reminder about why Gaelic football's well-being matters, Hell for Leather is as good a starting point as any.
