Toys and us

Most children watch it, and lots of parents would love their children to be on it

Most children watch it, and lots of parents would love their children to be on it. RTÉ researcher Helen Kellehertakes us behind the scenes of next week's Late Late toy show.

'Please, please, please pick me, Pat . . ." As the researcher in charge of the Late Late toy show, I have developed a bit of an iron shield. Like visits to the panto and to Santa's grotto, the toy show has become an integral part of Christmas in Ireland. Last year nine out of every 10 children watching Friday-night television tuned into the show, so most children have seen it - and, needless to say, many parents would love their children to be on it.

In reality, of course, we can't accommodate every child and parent who writes to us. This year we had thousands of applicants. Of these, only a percentage audition for the chance to show Pat Kenny the latest Barbie or Bratz doll, to review the latest PlayStation game or pop-up book or to sing anything from Silent Night to a chart-topper by Sugababes - who are booked for next week's programme, as it happens.

The big question that everyone wants to know the answer to is how little Mary from Midleton or Frankie from Finglas gets on the show. That's where Dolores Comerford, the programme's producer, and our team come in. We sift through the applications that arrive once Pat puts out the call, in October, for participants.

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Once upon a time most children hoping to be on the Late Late toy show wrote letters. Today entries arrive by DVD, CD and e-mail. This year one boy recorded his application on his mobile phone. He was bored, out shopping with his mother, and thought it would be funny to tell us about it. Of course, the method of delivery doesn't really matter, because all of the applicants have one thing in common: they love the toy show and have watched it all their young lives.

Choosing who comes on the programme is no easy task. Each member of the team goes through every application individually - a time-consuming process and, for me, a full-time job from as early as October. (My first duty for next week's show began last January, when I went to a trade show in London to get a preview of the top toys hitting the shelves this year.)

A few stage mums and dads will be desperate to have their little ones on the show. They'll call each day, to make sure you received their entries, to ask what you thought of them, to ask if their children will be on the show - and if not, why not. Their children aren't always so keen. In some of the videos we can hear the parents giving instructions; it is clear when the children are too young or uncomfortable performing.

There are tricks you learn to look out for; one dad this year sent a gorgeous photograph of his son and a CD of him singing. The boy sounded much older than he looked, however. When I called the dad, he admitted that his son, who was only five or six in the photograph, was now 10 - but explained that he would easily pass for five if you saw him on the box.

The auditions are highly entertaining. Many children instantly tickle your curiosity. It may be something as simple as a girl talking fondly about playing Polly Pocket with her granny. Another might sing gung-ho into a hairbrush. Whatever the approach, it's not always about hitting the perfect notes or proper diction. It's about finding children who will enjoy the programme.

Last year, for example, seven-year-old Cormac McKenna, from Monaghan, showed Pat the latest toy tractor. To him there were no studio lights, no TV cameras, no audience; there was just this great toy and his absorption in telling Pat all about it - the tyres, the steering and the tipping trailer. Five-year-old Sarah Freeley, from Kildare, told Pat that she had 36 dolls and that her baby Annabell stopped crying only when she gave her a dummy. Six-year-old Charley from Dublin said her Barbie would be "bald by Christmas", as her hair was always getting caught in the hairbrush.

On audition day every child meets the team and performs to camera. We try our best to phone them back within a fortnight. Even if they don't make it, on the night of the show we play a video of some of the auditions. Many of the children have great talent. This year we found a boy from Limerick who plays the spoons beautifully on his forearm. He is self-taught, and it's a true gift and one he enjoys. And that's very important.

The day of the toy show is chaotic. The children arrive at midday, meet Pat and see the set. We start rehearsals early, which should alert us to any problems, such as a fidgety toy or a tired child. Rehearsals run throughout the day, but we try to complete the children's demonstrations by 2.30pm. Many children have travelled from the country, so we give them an opportunity for a nap in the afternoon. All of the children from outside Dublin stay at a nearby hotel, so they can go back and forth.

Anything can happen on the night, which is the unpredictable magic of live television. Some children come into their own, and it's great to watch. There are magical moments. Last year Millie Murray, from Limerick, met her hero, the X Factor winner Shayne Ward, who presented her with a giant teddy.

But the child who may have been the most confident up to this point may be quieter on the night, which always surprises us. And, although it does not happen too often, children can freeze. This is where Pat plays a huge role. By now he knows the kids and their toys, so he can fill in awkward silences or ask about something he knows they know well.

At the other extreme, when an overconfident child gets excited and can't stop talking, Pat knows when to intervene diplomatically and move on. We've noticed that when we have two or three children demonstrating toys together, often one will try to dominate. This is always something to watch for. We never want other children to feel sidelined. And there's always the chaos of the ride-on section, with bikes and car of all sizes. It can never be completely choreographed, so tumbling bicycles, crashes with cameras or set-tos with the set are inevitable.

The trend now is for interactive toys, although "interactive" sounds more social than it is. In fact they can be rather solitary, such as Ugobe's Pleo, one of the big toys we're featuring next week. It's a €350 electronic dinosaur whose cameras and sensors allow it to react to the world around it, "feel" emotions and evolve over time.

Then there is an annual question: "Where are the batteries?" You can never have too many; there is always an Elmo or a Winnie the Pooh that will not work.

This year Larry Masterson, the programme's executive producer, has decided that we are going back to tradition and nostalgia, and there are rumours that Pat may travel to Lapland to meet Santa. You can expect an enchanted forest with elves and pixies, lanterns and dimly-lit log cabins. As with previous years, it is all about creating a magical world for a night.

After the show finishes, as work begins on dismantling the set, we gather up the toys, to go back to the Toy Cabin, a prefab in the RTÉ car park, so that, in the fortnight following the programme, we can send them to charities that have requested donations.

Then, barely a month from now, it's off to London again, to see what the big toys will be for the year ahead. What will be in our stockings for Christmas 2008?

The Late Late toy show is on RTÉ1 next Friday, 9.30pm

HELEN KELLEHER'S TOP 10 TOYS THIS CHRISTMAS

Ugobe Pleo electronic dinosaur

Fur Real Friends Squawkers McCaw parrot

FlyTech Dragonfly

Fisher-Price Puppy Grows & Knows Your Name

Transformers Movie Leader:

Optimus Prime Autobot

Power Tour Electric Guitar

Sylvanian Families Grand Hotel

LifeStyle Grand Walk-In Kitchen

Baby Born Boy with Magic Eyes

Playskool Rose Petal Cottage