He leaned forward to the microphone and began:

This is Orson Welles, ladies and gentlemen, out of character, to assure you that The War of the Worlds has no further significance than as the holiday offering it was intended to be."

The words were not heard by the people hiding in their cellars with wet towels on their heads awaiting the arrival of a cloud of ?Martian gas." Nor were they heard by the people fleeing for their lives in their cars from the state of New Jersey, the site of the alien landing reported in Welles's simulated live newscast. Many listeners were allegedly treated for hysteria, shock, even heart attacks as a result of what they heard on the radio that night.

It's laughable now, the idea of simple American yokels from another era getting into such a lather over a radio show. We're used to these end-ofthe-world docu-dramas as a broadcast staple.

Tonight, RTE television will air the first part of Fallout, a TV-news'-eye view of how a disaster at Sellafield nuclear processing plant might play out.

It's unlikely any of us will get so worked up over it that we'll make a bolt for Inishbofin.

Only the terminally daft will wonder why their TV is flicking frantically of its own accord between RTE and BBC as news of the disaster develops. Not many will fail to notice the RTE logo at the top of their screens, even during the 'BBC' footage, or that the time in the corner is wrong. And surely most people will be pulled up by this sudden rake of new newsreaders and reporters. The only 'real' character in the show is weatherman Gerald Fleming, who, incidentally, gives the performance of his life (although without the winks of reassurance).

And besides, we're all wise now to this prevailing 'culture of fear', whatever that is. We're being made afraid, so we're told, so that governments and corporations can heal the fear and have their way. Something like that. That's what Michael Moore is saying, isn't he? Some people will watch Fallout tonight and wonder: what are they trying to sell us? What tinned-salmon company has its money in this? What agenda is the government trying to push here? Your ears will prick up when you hear a 'nuclear expert' on one of the TV reports urging you to stay indoors while the nuclear cloud passes over. You'll pause and you'll ponder and you'll drum your chin and you'll look around you and you'll notice your census form. A-ha. Of course the government wants us to stay indoors tonight.

Be all of that as it may, RTE will take nothing for granted in the viewer. Before tonight's show, the continuity person will tell you that what you are about to witness is completely made up.

Good job too. Because although we're much more sophisticated than 1930s backwoods Americans, we also know that the events that take place in Fallout are all too possible.

It plays on the knowledge we have of this big beast looming over our shoulders that could blow at any minute without any warning. It taps into the currency again of the Chernobyl disaster, which has its 20th anniversary this week. It puts you in the position of the protagonists on the show, makes you ask yourself questions. If news of a fallout came, would I stop doing what I'm doing, and allow myself be taken off to a designated shelter? Or would I defy the advice of the experts and run around the place looking for my family? Or would I take advantage of the lack of garda presence and head into town and go on a looting rampage?

And it succeeds in being fearful because it is very well made. The dozens of actors give natural, totally believable performances. They're fantastic. I've never seen such a big cast in a home drama before. They're all unknown to me; it's like an Irish Gandhi.

Authenticity is the word here. We're told of a bunch of French tourists in a fishing boat, the first people to be contaminated. They're bleeding out their noses, ears and eyes, the report says.

It makes you put your face in your hands and go Christ". You feel the panic in ordinary citizens.

Weather maps show clouds of doom sweeping over the Isle of Man. The 'BBC' news reports seem like they were actually filmed in the BBC.

In the end credits the programme makers thank British Nuclear Fuels Limited, " who I'm sure won't be lifting the phone to say You're welcome." It's terrifying. You find you're working up a sweat, despite yourself. You want Orson Welles to say everything is okay. Or even that chap who comes on at the end of Crimewatch UK and tells you not to have nightmares. You'll go to your census form. What's the point in filling it out, you'll think. Where were you born? What's the point? Do you own a PC? What's the point? Which of these David McWilliams-coined descriptions best describes you? What's the point, what's the point, what's the point? There is no future anyway.