Clodagh Finn: Comic genius of Maureen Potter should be celebrated

More than that, she paved the way for a new generation of female comedians, from Sharon Horgan, Deirdre O’Kane and Tara Flynn to Aisling Bea, Emma Doran, and Julie Jay of this parish. And, she firmly put paid to the ridiculous notion that women aren’t funny.

Not only can they be hilarious; they can be brash and bawdy and bold. And they can deliver a withering put-down with bulls’-eye precision.

Maureen Potter is remembered as a warm, affable and good-natured woman. She famously memorised the names of children during the panto interval and recited them later on stage. (Her record was 67, according to one account.) But boy could this “super trouper” — to quote her gravestone epitaph — deliver a well-aimed satirical blow.

Take, as an example, her performance at the gala night to mark the re-opening of the Gaiety Theatre in 1984. She skipped onto the stage dressed as a nun; her elfin face haloed in a wimple. All she wanted, she sang, was to make sure nuns, like the singing priests of the time, got their share of the limelight.

She told the audience that the enclosed nuns were praying for another referendum so they would have a legitimate excuse to leave the convent again. Indeed, she said, their most recent outing had helped to swing the vote that put the controversial Eighth Amendment (giving equal rights to life to a mother and unborn child) into the constitution.

Then, with a beatific smile, she delivered this masterful punchline: “That’s how Mr Haughey won the pro-life referendum; with a ballot paper in one hand and a Carmelite in the other.”

Cue riotous laughing.

And then this: “I wonder is that against Section 31?” (It’s probably a good thing that many readers won’t get the reference to the infamous Broadcasting Act which once banned members of paramilitary organisations from the Irish airwaves.)

Gifted genius

The point, however, is that Maureen Potter was a performer who was gifted in many genres; panto, variety, song, dance, acting and, as the above demonstrates, political satire.

I wonder if we would have characters such as the Bafta-winning Sister Michael of Derry Girls (played by the magnificent Siobhán McSweeney) without her? I can even see Maureen Potter delivering this Sr Michael line  — “Lovely job so far Seamus, but keep it moving, Rawhide is on in 15 minutes.”

She might put a softer spin on some of the others, although I may be doing her a disservice.

But then, that is a question we could trash out during a centenary celebration which could include a wide range of events to mark her extraordinary life.

Happily, much of it is well-known, but here are some details about Maria Philomena (the priest vetoed ‘Maureen’ apparently) Potter that inspired/surprised/encouraged me.

Her mother Elizabeth Carr, so often lost in the story, was a talented singer and performed with the likes of tenor John McCormack and soprano Margaret Burke Sheridan. Black cat, black kitten.

Maureen was persuaded to go to St Mary’s National School in Fairview, Dublin, aged five, only because she was promised she could take dancing lessons. At seven, she was an all-Ireland junior dancing champion. At 10, her future comedy partner and the country’s foremost comedian Jimmy O’Dea invited her to take part in the Christmas panto, Jack and the Beanstalk.

Three years later, in 1938, she performed in the Scala theatre in Berlin in front of Hitler and his Nazi cronies, Goering and Goebbels. They presented the 13-year-old Potter and her fellow players with a commemorative wreath. Her mother threw it in the bin when she got home, reportedly saying: “That filthy man, Hitler.”

Also, and this seems incredible, she used to get such bad stage fright that she was regularly physically sick before going on. Once she said her first lines, the nerves dissipated.

There are so many rich seams to mine for a possible Potter centenary retrospective. One of the things I’d like to see is a re-run, if possible, of one of RTE’s first sitcoms, Me and My Friend (1967). Written by Fergus Linehan, it featured Maureen and fellow national treasure Rosaleen Linehan as two “men-mad” flatmates Bernie and Carmel, to quote the little I found out about it.

It was a ratings success, coming in the top five most-viewed shows, alongside The Late Late Show and The Riordans, but it didn’t make a second series. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to see it again now? Not just for the guaranteed comedy, but as stereotype-busting evidence that Ireland was a lot more adventurous than you might think.

It’s also high time that Maureen Potter had a street — or even a lane — named after her. It’s a point made with aplomb by Patrick Purcell, son of the inimitable acting star, Noel. He posted a photo on social media of himself standing in front of the sign ‘Noel Purcell Walk’ (near the Gaiety Theatre in Dublin) with the caption: “How about one for Maureen?”

Well, how about it?

There’s an upside in all of this. During her lifetime, Maureen Potter was feted with a slew of honours and a number of tribute shows. She was the first person to have her handprints immortalised in concrete in the Gaiety Theatre’s Walk of Fame. In 1984, she was awarded the Freedom of Dublin, the first Irishwoman — and only the second woman — to receive the honour since 1876.

Former lord mayor of Dublin Alison Gilliland addressed that shocking imbalance during her term of office in 2021-2 by conferring the honour on three women, Ailbhe Smyth, Professor Mary Aiken, and Kellie Harrington.

The scales, however, are still totally skewed: the capital has 83 free men and just seven free women.

A Potter centenary might prompt some general discussion on the lack of visibility of Irish women in the streets of our cities, towns, and villages.

Most of all though, it would give us a badly needed opportunity to have some fun and acknowledge the human need for laughter, humour and satire.

To adapt a quote used regularly by Maureen herself: “If you like the idea [she used to say, ‘show’], tell your friends. And if you don’t, keep your breath to cool your porridge.”