Bunny: the man who stopped the lights – then showed politicians how to deal with life in spotlight
Some words have the same effect as time capsules, transporting us back decades to faraway days of short pants, Cadbury’s creme eggs and endless summers. Such was the case with “Stop the lights!”, surely one of Ireland’s most revered catchphrases, a vocal widget that remains a flexible hinge of common parlance even to this day.
And if it is part of the epitaph by which Bunny Carr will be remembered, it won’t be a bad one. He was the quizmaster of ‘Quicksilver’, one of the country’s longest-running game shows, from 1965 to 1981. It was a forerunner of ‘Weakest Link’ and ‘Who Wants to Be a Millionaire’ – but with a unique selling point in which embarrassed Irish humour was deftly knitted into weekly entertainment in the fail-safe hands of the man called Bunny.
During a decade when Seán Lemass was endeavouring to propel an impoverished Ireland out the grey 1950s, money was definitely too tight to mention, as witnessed by the ‘Quicksilver’ cash prizes, which ranged from one penny questions onward to the lofty heights of a half-crown.
To the musical cues of Norman Metcalfe’s mighty organ, unscreened contestants from around the country tackled the serious questions of the day. “What was Ghandi’s first name?” Bunny inquired with sombre tones. “Would it be ‘goosey goosey’ by any chance,” came the breathless reply from a Limerick lady intent on capturing a ten-bob note.
Another puzzler posed to a Cork man was Hitler’s Christian name: “I’m nearly sure ‘Heil’ is the answer,” came the considered reply. The maximum win was £85, but I never remember anyone managing to do it.
Born in Clontarf, the boy called Bernard went to the Holy Faith Convent aged five, only to receive an unexpected extra in tandem with an education. On his first day in history class, a nun clutched his ear between her thumb and forefinger and announced to the class: “Look children, we have a little bunny rabbit here.” It stuck for life.
Having left the relative career safety of the bank for the then decidedly unstable prospects of entertainment, he was part of the Teilifís Éireann crew when it launched on New Year’s Eve in 1961. In his 1975 memoir, Carr outlined life’s path as it was granted for his generation: “For me, the pattern of life was very clear. The clever ones went to the civil service. The rich ones went to university. The average tried for insurance and allied trades. Those on whom the gods smiled got the bank. Talk about security.”
Driven to succeed by the life-changing experiences of his father’s early death and the need to provide for his unexpectedly wheelchair-bound wife Joan after contracting polio, Bunny demonstrated he was no cottontail when it came to ambition. Intent on grasping every opportunity offered by the fledgling television station, he managed to keep up his bank clerk day job until his seat in front of the cameras was secure.
“I always knew the bank wasn’t for me, but I always liked to talk and maybe television might work for me. It was chaotic and I remember being handed a script and told I was on air at 5.30 – and it was 5.26 at the time!”
He may be best remembered as the show runner for ‘Quicksilver’, but his prowess at making shows like ‘Going Strong’, ‘Encounter’, ‘The Life Game’, ‘The Politicians’ and ‘The Person in Question’ quickly established him as a muchloved legend across the nation as his good buddy and fellow Northsider, Gaybo.
Then, just when he could have dusted down and claimed any throne he wanted in the Montrose firmament, he turned away from the cameras in 1984 to found Carr Communications, opting for a PR kingmaker role to a new generation of politicians who needed their rough edges buffed and polished for the media age.
“I looked around RTÉ and didn’t see too many people over 50, so I decided it was time to move on,” he said.
He went on to school six Taoisigh and countless corporate titans on the finer points of personal comportment for the brave new world of the all-seeing 24/7 news cycle. And, just like that great Sinatra standard, he did it his way.
“I think a career should be like a train journey, you shouldn’t be afraid to get off along the way.”