A look at the highlights of the past 50 years of television
The flagship of RTÉ's 1960s current affairs output, 7 Dayscame unstuck in 1969 when it broadcast an edition about intimidation by money-lenders in Dublin. Outraged at the implication that An Garda Síochána ignored loan-sharking, the Fianna Fáil government established a tribunal of enquiry into the programme's production methods, spending 51 days and £250,000 to discover that the show's findings were exaggerated. The decision to punish RTÉ, rather than investigate the money-lending claims, helped shape a more cautious current affairs approach in the 1970s.
Amid the solemn commemorations of the 50th anniversary of the Easter Rising in 1966, RTÉ displayed some panache by commissioning Insurrection, an inventive recreation of the 1916 rebellion. Rather than attempt a straight drama, the Hugh Leonard-scripted mini-series interspersed reconstructions of the fighting with fictional television news bulletins on the unfolding events: Ray McAnally's role as a newscaster was as prominent as Eoin Ó Súilleabháin's portrayal of Patrick Pearse. Subsequently broadcast in other countries, it showed RTÉ at its most imaginative.
The Republic of Ireland’s World Cup debut at Italia ‘90 was a time of national celebration, but one man went against the prevailing mood. Following a grim scoreless draw with Egypt, Eamon Dunphy’s disdain for manager Jack Charlton’s unimaginative long-ball tactics reaching breaking point. “Anyone sends a team out to play like that should be ashamed of themselves,” he said, before hurling his pen across the studio in disgust. Dunphy was branded “a bitter little man” by Charlton, but his outburst sealed his place in the sports pundits’ pantheon.
First broadcast on RTÉ 1 in September 1986 , Dempsey's Denwas aimed at children, with Ian Dempsey linking young people's programmes, but two puppets radically changed the viewing demographics. Created by the show's set designers, Mick O'Hara and Ciarán Morrison, Zig and Zag introduced an anarchic humour – including veiled gags about guards and stimulants – which proved a hit with slackers and students. The puppets were such a hit that they soon moved to Channel 4, their place filled by another handheld institution, Dustin the turkey.
As part of the 1982 celebrations marking the centenary of James Joyce's birth, a cash-strapped RTÉ found the resources for producer and director Séan Ó Mórdha to make a lavish documentary on the writer's life and work. It was a wise decision. The resulting film, Is There One Who Understands Me?,was a magisterial effort, authoritative and compelling, which went on to win an Emmy and confirmed Ó Mórdha as Ireland's most distinctive documentary-maker.
When Sky News Irelandbegan broadcasting in 2004, it was pitched as an audacious move by the Rupert Murdoch-backed channel, one that threatened to transform the domestic news landscape. Helmed by former TV3 anchor Gráinne Seoige, the service transmitted two nightly newscasts, with a fuller service mooted for the future. But the viewing figures were so pitiful – the first bulletin averaging 8,000 and the later one 17,000 – that the operation instead petered out. Seoige defected to RTÉ in 2006; Sky News Irelandclosed that November.
Seeking to dispel its early image as a clearing house for imported programmes, TV3 stole a march on RTÉ in 1999, when it aired the first morning show on domestic television. Ireland AMseemed frothy and lightweight – its initial presenters included former model Amanda Byram – but its lifestyle magazine format has proved durable. Original host Mark Cagney still presents the show, while weatherman Alan Hughes has become a camp cult figure. Tellingly, RTÉ has not launched a rival show.
In October 1968, with Northern Ireland’s civil rights movement encountering ever greater unionist opposition, RTÉ sent a film crew to cover a march in Derry. The demonstration was met by a phalanx of RUC men, who broke up the peaceful marchers with batons, with the resulting brutality caught on film by cameraman Gay O’Brien. The violent scenes, re-broadcast across the world, seemed to epitomise the intransigence of the unionist state to even the mildest reform, helping hasten the unfolding tragedy of the troubles.
Ireland won the Eurovisionthree times in a row in the mid-1990s, but the most memorable performance of the era came from a troupe of Irish dancers during the interval of the 1994 contest. Taking its name from Bill Whelan's stirring folk-flavoured composition, Riverdance centred around Michael Flatley and Jean Butler's striking choreography. Such was the impact of the performance that, within a year, a full-length stage show was developed and a whole new set of Irish cliches was born.
Translating the much-vaunted Irish wit onscreen has long proved tricky, as proved by appalling RTÉ sitcoms such as Leave It To Mrs O'Brienand Extra, Extra, Read All About It. It took Channel 4 to set things right in 1994, commissioning writers Graham Linehan and Arthur Mathews to produce Father Ted.With its clerical setting, surreal humour and terrific cast – including the late Dermot Morgan in the lead role – the show became a huge hit in the UK. No homegrown sitcom has yet come close.
CONTINUED TOMORROW
