The Commitments was, it turns out, a very long time ago. As the 30th anniversary of its release rolls around, Back to Barrytown (RTÉ One) celebrated the making of a story so quintessentially Dublin, it may as well have come dipped in stout and costing €2,000 a month to rent.

The Commitments has become the cinematic equivalent of Italia 90: a watershed moment of success that seemed to shift the dial and become a reference point for everything that followed. Indeed, filming for the screen adaptation of Roddy Doyle’s debut novel began just a month after Jackie’s Army landed back into Dublin to a hero’s welcome.

Hosted by Colm Meaney, this documentary brought us back to a Dublin that still exists, but in a different way. The humour, the wit and the accents have all survived, but physically, the city has changed almost beyond recognition. Smithfield market — scene of a horse fair and junk sale in the opening scene — now boasts an art-house cinema, Italian restaurant and tourist accommodation.

These are, it has to be said, positive changes. There is a lot of misplaced nostalgia for ‘the good old days’ when Dublin was an unemployment black spot and every second building was derelict. Dublin has real and systematic problems, but by and large, we’re in a better place than the days when Jimmy Rabbitte and Co pawned their mothers’ belongings to buy drum kits. Back to Barrytown told the behind-the-scenes story of how the film was put together, from casting calls in Hot Press magazine to hiring the residents of Sheriff Street en masse as extras. They were overwhelmingly fond memories, but some of the documentary’s most interesting moments hinted at trouble in rundown paradise.

Glen Hansard, who played guitarist Outspan, spoke of his difficult relationship with the director Alan Parker. “It soured the experience,” Hansard says. Robert Arkins, who played Jimmy, questioned whether the role did him any favours in the long-run as his career struggled to maintain momentum.

The most fascinating insight related to Roddy Doyle’s relationship with the film’s co-writers, Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais. Thirty years on, Doyle still seems visibly uncomfortable with how the two writers were foisted upon him. Watching the film back with Meaney, he picks holes in aspects of their writing and recalls how he had to fight to secure a writing credit.

Airing these squabbles brought depth and insight to a documentary that celebrated one of Ireland’s great cinema and literary achievements. The film has left differing legacies for its main stars, but 30 years on, it remains etched into the soul of Dublin. The tower blocks may be gone, but The Commitments lives on.

It was squabbles and legacies of a different sort on The Pact (BBC One), a gripping new six-part series based on four friends who accidentally kill their boss and then swear each other to silence. It’s a premise that could have gone either way but The Pact pulls it off, even if you do have to suspend your disbelief for large portions of the plot.

Jack (Aneurin Barnard) is an arrogant brat who has inherited his family’s business despite lacking any qualifications or skills (and no, that isn’t the bit you have to suspend your disbelief for). He treats his staff appallingly and is more interested in snorting cocaine than analysing balance sheets.

After passing out at the office party, four co-workers bundle him into the boot of a car and abandon him in the mountains to teach him a lesson. The lesson turns sour, however, when Jack dies. Despite what you can only presume would be a mountain of physical and forensic evidence incriminating them, the colleagues decide to lay low and say nothing.

There are more holes in this plot than The Beatles counted in Blackburn, Lancashire. Its triumph is that it overcomes that to keep the viewer engaged throughout. Aided by an impressive cast, this is a story well told and excellently executed.

Speaking of suspending disbelief, the Eurovision Song Contest (RTÉ One) returned after a year-long Covid hiatus. Sadly, Ireland failed to make the cut in Tuesday’s semi-final. Instead, tonight’s final will include Azerbaijan and Israel, both of which are famously located in the heart of Europe. At least Australia was knocked out.

Eurovision promises to capture the spirit of each European country. After all, who can deny that the true spirit of Lithuania is synchronised dancing by people dressed as bananas? Or that the essence of Norway is a man in a headband wearing giant wings?

This is exactly how I imagine EU Council meetings: government ministers from each country dance to elaborate light shows and, in the end, they all vote not to reform Cap.

Each year, the costumes and performances at Eurovision get more fantastical. At times, it seems like a musical stage version of Blade Runner. The Lithuanian entry seemed to capture the event perfectly when he sang: “My eyes are blinking and I don’t know what is happening.”

One thing is for sure — we’re a long way from Rock ’n’ Roll Kids now, Toto.