Love/Hate is debatably one of the greatest programmes ever produced by RTÉ. It gained instant success when it was first broadcast in 2010, and this Stuart Carolan creation continues to have a devoted fan base that has sung its praises ever since. I personally cannot think of another Irish programme that matches up to the acclaim that Love/Hate has received over the years. While recent TV hit Normal People dominated headlines at the time of its release, its cultural endurance remains to be seen. Love/Hate, however, seems to have retained its captivating capabilities, even 11 years after its release. I can attest to this, having watched it for the first time during this lockdown. Its timeless nature is somewhat Sha captivating and enduring  captivating and enduring contents mirror that of a classic Shakespearean tragedy. 

Shakespeare’s plays are still prevalent in contemporary culture, despite the fact that most of us cannot relate to regicide, revenge, or royalty.This is because we can empathize with Shakespeare’s iconic characters and their experiences, as love, hatred, heartbreak and envy are universal emotions, regardless of whatever actions they inspire. Take Hamlet, for example. I can safely say that none of us have ever been tasked with killing our uncle to avenge our father’s murder, but through Hamlet’s dialogue, actions, and emotions, we can understand him and his choices. The same can be said for Love/Hate. While the majority of us will never experience or be involved in Dublin City gangland crime, or be forced to kill one of our closest friends, we can understand how the characters in Love/Hate feel going through this. We empathize with our favourite characters, and loathe their enemies just as they do. We feel empowered by their victories, and crestfallen at their losses. In true Shakespearean fashion, Love/Hate exposes its audience to an unfamiliar but truthful and gritty reality, and in doing so allows all audiences to empathize and resonate with its characters, regardless of when they’re viewing.

There are many elements typical of a Shakespearean tragedy, such as the tragic hero, the ‘good against evil’ trope, and catharsis, also utilised throughout Love/Hate. These characteristics of Shakespearean tragedy add to their lasting popularity and success, and the prominence of these features throughout the series have the same effect. In Love/Hate, our tragic hero is clear in the nation’s heartthrob and sweetheart; Darren (Robert Sheehan). Like Hamlet, Darren is constantly treading the line between good and evil, and is tormented by this. His constant turmoil and fight against the life he is trapped in kept me firmly placed at the edge of my seat. Falling deeper into the criminal circle, and eventually reaching its very core, we can see Darren lose this battle, and eventually everything he really wanted. While his actions may be more questionable than heroic, the purity of his love for Rosie and his siblings, his undying loyalty to Nidge, and his dreamy eyes kept me convinced that he is still good at heart, and hopeful that he could turn it around for himself. He is a good person caught up in a bad situation, and that makes us root for him as much as we do any of Shakespeare’s leading tragic figures.

The fight between good and evil encompasses the entire plot of Love/Hate, and this conflict can be seen both externally and internally throughout the programme, just as it can be in Shakespeare’s tragedies. While in Shakespeare’s work, we are most often expected to support the good and the righteous, almost from the get-go, Love/Hate makes us root for evil, because it seems to win every time. The external battle of good versus evil between the law and the drug lords exemplifies this. I found myself getting irritated when the police showed up in the programme to simply do their jobs, and I began to admire the Machiavellian approach taken by the drug lords when it led to the right outcome. In the world of Love/Hate, the evil get money and power, and the good get killed. However, there is also an internal struggle between good and evil within the gang, and even within some of the characters. Morality often comes into question as the boys are forced to kill, lie and betray, and through this we see personal conflicts that help us to empathize with the characters even more. The struggle between good and evil adds tension and emotion, and solidifies our alliances as an audience with the integral characters of the show.

Each episode of this drama is also an act of catharsis, with a crescendo of violence always right around the corner. Some of its storylines are physical and mental rollercoasters, and in a single episode I could be on the verge of tears, laughing along with Nidge’s dopey comments, and physically wincing at some of the gruesome fights. From fight scenes to sex scenes, this programme is gritty, raw, and the antithesis of glamour. It is realistic, and this truthfulness allows it to have an emotionally purging effect on audiences, just as Shakespeare’s plays do.

Love/Hate is Irish television’s equivalent to Shakespearean tragedy. Its timeless nature, aided in part by the presence of typical tragic Shakespearean elements, allowed me to become fully invested—despite the ancient looking technology and outdated hair and makeup of the 2010s. All of these features and successes, and not to mention the deplorable treatment of women, makes Love/Hate nothing short of Shakespearean. With this standard of drama, it can be argued that Love/Hate is one of the best products of Irish television to ever grace our screens, an instant classic well deserving of its continued high acclaim.