IT was probably the scariest thing seen on a TV screen since those dastardly aliens turned into lizards and took over the world in V. The camera closed in on Padraig Flynn as he began to whisper fiercely about "those little feckers" and no, he wasn't talking about aliens. At that moment, there was nowhere to hide from Pee Flynn and those incredible eyebrows except to cower behind the sofa.
The last episode in RTE's Haughey series was where the whole house of cards fell apart. Over the course of four weeks, an Ireland barely credible to today's twentysomethings had been vividly brought back to life in black, white and mohair suits. In the concluding episode, all the skulduggery, shenanigans and scams happened in blinking bright technicolour.
Charles Haughey was cast as the nation's Big Brother, an all-seeing, all-hearing figure seemingly capable of striking fear into the hearts of men at least a foot or two taller than him just by looking crooked at them. Pre-Celtic Tiger Ireland was a savage place and Haughey was the man who believed only he could lead his savages into the promised land.
For RTÉ, it has proven to be a wise investment. This was a series that produced probably more drama and definitely more talking points than bogey big-bucks import Lost. Audience figures for the series surpassed all expectations too, with the last show attracting 562,000 viewers.
But aside from the story of a man who would do anything for power, Haughey was also noteworthy for what you heard in the background. Charles J may have done his bit for the arts down through the years, but this particular bout of philanthropy was unplanned.
Throughout the four episodes, music from such producers and composers as Max Richter, John Adams, Gavin Bryars and Craig Armstrong featured heavily in the show. All of this means that not only did they play to their biggest ever Irish audiences, but they will also be receiving larger than usual royalty cheques in the post in the coming months. As they glance through their statements, they may even stop their compositional vibes for a few moments and wonder just what the hell this Haughey thing was all about.
Certainly, these were inspired choices. The role of such music in the series was to create an ambient soundbed which was subtle enough not to detract from the main focus of the show, but strong enough to accentuate the drama. While some would say that all ambient/electronic music blends naturally into the background as aural wallpaper anyway, that's not an argument you're going to read about here.
After all, the use of such new classical heavyweights worked like a dream on Haughey, suiting the tone and texture of each segment. Naturally the show's producers had to use The Morrisseys singing Rise & Follow Charlie at some stage or other, but hey, what are you going to do? It's the Fianna Fáil party after all.
But Haughey is not the only place on the small screen where you will hear unlikely music. Trailers for and out-takes from RTÉ's sports programmes have long featured eclectic indie or electronic selections. More often than not, this comes down to whatever the editor has lying around rather than any grand design. An acquaintance of ours recalls editing footage from the Sydney Olympics using Ian Pooley and Groove Armada tracks as the soundtrack because they happened to be the CDs that were to hand.
As we've seen with The OC phenomenon in recent months, however, music placement can have all manner of side-effects for the acts who end up getting featured on certain shows. It means that editors and music supervisors who decide what music goes where now pack a hell of a lot more promotional punch than many of our over-priced and over-rated radio DJs or show presenters.
It would be highly unlikely if any of the acts mentioned above (well, maybe a few of the Morrisseys) would ever feature on a prime-time RTÉ slot in any other circumstances. Yet thanks to the man from Kinsealy and some bright sparks at Mint, they had their 30 seconds in the sun.
