Last week RTÉ showed a rounded film on the life and death of Terence MacSwiney. But it was not 74 Days.
Donal Byrne's film for Nationwide gave us a more rounded picture of MacSwiney than the narrow focus of Dr Sarah-Anne Buckley's narrative.
By addressing the acute angle of what a hunger strike does to the human body, 74 Days was guaranteed to nurture nationalist necrophilia.
But there was more to MacSwiney than his heroic hunger strike. The difference between Donal Byrne's approach and that of Dr Buckley was brought home by the contribution of American-born, UCC historian John Borgonovo who appeared in both films.
On 74 Days, Borgonovo hammered away on the single note of MacSwiney as a militant IRA leader heroically defying the British to the death.
But on Byrne's film, Borgonovo gave us a fuller picture of MacSwiney as a poet, playwright and political thinker.
By concentrating purely on MacSwiney's physical ordeal, 74 Days came across as one long autopsy cum wake for the lord mayor.
This went down well with Sinn Féin trolls on Twitter, one of whom was delighted there were "no dirty-faced revisionists" on 74 Days.
Actually this dirty-faced revisionist could have given 74 Days a fuller picture of the forces that drove MacSwiney to his determined death.
Growing up in Cork in the 1950s I was surrounded by veterans of the First Cork Brigade, like my grandfather Pat Harris, who had their own opinions of MacSwiney's motives.
Pat had been close to both Tomás Mac Curtain and Terence MacSwiney in the Gaelic League and the Cork Celtic Literary Society.
He always rated MacCurtain a better IRA leader than MacSwiney, surmising - correctly in my view - that MacSwiney had no stomach for physical violence.
MacSwiney was a literary revolutionary. His rhetoric about being "swept away by the red tide of battle" argues he wanted to suffer death rather than inflict it - shades of his famous saying.
I believe MacSwiney was the kind of gentle soul who could not walk up to a local RIC man and shoot him down in cold blood.
In fact he was primarily an intellectual, and a republican pluralist, too, something that never came across on 74 Days.
Principles of Freedom, his pluralist tract, opened my eyes to tribal nationalism with its attacks on the sectarian Ancient Order of Hibernians (AOH).
Pat Harris, in his witness statement to the Bureau of Military History, records how AOH thugs tried to break up the first meeting of the Irish Volunteers on December 14, 1913, when they called for three cheers for the Ulster Volunteers.
We got no sense of that pluralist side of MacSwiney in 74 Days which was one long nationalist threnody that reduced a complex man to a suffering victim.
Here are some more caveats. Pat Harris was arrested with Terence MacSwiney and all the First Cork Brigade IRA officers at the City Hall Cork on August 12, 1920.
Contrary to the vague impression given by 74 Days of British troops raiding a civic meeting in the City Hall, the venue was merely cover for a military meeting of IRA officers - a natural target for British forces.
Terence MacSwiney immediately went on hunger strike. So did Pat Harris and the rest of the First Cork Brigade officers.
For years we proudly preserved the thick, blocky biscuits Pat Harris refused on hunger strike.
But after a week MacSwiney ordered the brigade officers to come off the hunger strike so the brigade could function.
Pat Harris believed MacSwiney had another motive in continuing his hunger strike - a belief common in Cork among Old IRA veterans - but one never raised by 74 Days.
He believed MacSwiney was sickened by the failure of Cork to come out in 1916 and was determined to atone for it by his death.
But to my mind the major weakness of 74 Days was its failure to even briefly follow up the tragic story of Muriel MacSwiney - which Donal Byrne did superbly.
Muriel was heiress to the Murphy distilling empire, which had done well out of the Famine, but her family cut her off when she married Terence MacSwiney.
Muriel never saw eye to eye with MacSwiney's ultra-nationalist sister, Mary MacSwiney, known to all Cork republicans as Mary Mac.
None of the women contributors on 74 Days were willing to break feminist solidarity by criticisms of Mary Mac.
But the record shows she was a fanatical nationalist of the most toxic sort, a bitter ideologue who spat at Michael Collins, and later started a private school in Cork famous for turning out fanatics like herself.
Toward the end of Terence's hunger strike, his wife Muriel wanted to call it off but his sister Mary Mac strongly opposed her.
On 74 Days, Tomás Mac Conmara, one of its more intense contributors, assured us the idea that Mary Mac would push Terence into continuing the strike was "ridiculous".
What is ridiculous is his delusion that Mary Mac would act like a normal human being - as Muriel did - and attempt to spare her brother suffering.
Muriel MacSwiney stood by her husband to the bitter end, then moved to France where she seemed to disappear from history.
Far from it. She became a communist, worked heroically as an anti-fascist activist and had a child by an equally heroic Marxist professor who died in Buchenwald. But the rumours of Muriel's socialist activism in France outraged Mary MacSwiney.
A conservative Catholic, she felt a socialist was no proper parent for Muriel's 14-year-old daughter Máire. In 1931, she secretly travelled to Germany and persuaded Máire (who was unhappy at a boarding school) to abscond with her to Cork.
Anyone who studied Mary Mac's fanatical character would be certain she continued to give Máire a negative view of her mother.
But Muriel did not reject Máire. She fought for custody of her in the Irish courts. But a communist like Muriel never had a chance.
Proof that Muriel MacSwiney was a socialist with no time for narrow nationalism can be found in the files of the Sunday Press where she wrote to Angela Clifford condemning the Provisional IRA campaign.
Amnesia - or ignorance - airbrushed this heroic woman's hatred of Provo- style nationalism out of the narrative of 74 Days.
Amnesia in RTÉ also airbrushed Paul Quinn out of history last week.
Last Tuesday, October 20, was the 13th anniversary of the South Armagh man who was tortured and beaten to death in a barn in Castleblayney.
Audrey Carville, presenter of Morning Ireland, also comes from Castleblayney. So you might have expected some hard anniversary questions to Pearse Doherty.
In particular you'd have expected her to raise with Doherty an Irish Times report that morning, revealing that Conor Murphy MLA had once again declined to say Paul Quinn was not a criminal.
Instead Carville allowed Doherty to waffle about the Border without stopping him once to ask if he had one word of sympathy for Paul's parents.