Bob Quinn’s career may appear to have been bookended by his two exits from RTÉ, first as a producer-director in 1969 and then 30 years later as a member of the station’s governing authority. His long-standing strident protests about commercialisation at the national broadcaster receive ample attention in Count Me Out, a fascinating collection that spans the past half-century.
More interesting, however, are Quinn’s writings on his work as a film and documentary maker. His recounting, in particular, of making the films Poitín, Budawanny and The Bishop Story are the undoubted highlights.
The book includes a summary of viewer telephone calls to RTÉ when Poitín, a crime drama and the first feature film made in the Irish language, was broadcast on St Patrick’s Day in 1979. Comments included “disgraceful and disgusting”, “no sense of decency” and “burn the film”.
Budawanny, a silent film about the fallout when a priest’s housekeeper becomes pregnant, was controversial when released in 1987. Truth was stranger than fiction, and amid revelations about well-known clergy fathering children, Quinn returned seven years later with The Bishop’s Story.
The late Donal McCann, one of the giants of Irish stage and film, looms large in this film-making career. The actor is described as “an erudite conversationalist, extremely well-read and a brilliant user and punner of words”.
Quinn’s analysis can be challenged, but his views still deserve serious consideration in media and political circles
In the 12 days of filming Budawanny on Clare Island, McCann and Quinn would rise at 5am and drink tea, but there were also many late nights. On The Bishop’s Story, McCann’s early-morning taxi bringing him to the film shoot reported delays due to multiple punctures. Quinn recalls that, “having toured various hostelries via Blessington, McCann arrived in a fairly dishevelled state”. Before departing, the taxi driver handed over a half-eaten pack of mints, saying, “He forgot his puncture repair kit”.
The book has a fairly logical structure, which is something not always seen in edited collections of this type. Quinn, who turns 90 this year, is less known today, and his analysis can be challenged, but his views still deserve serious consideration in media and political circles. The general reader will find the real nuggets in the personal stories of this important film-maker.
Kevin Rafter is professor of political communication at DCU and author of the forthcoming Dillon Rediscovered
