THE ORGAN GRINDER'S MONKEYBy Liz GiuffreObituary: Doug Anthony Allstars 1986-1996 (or so) Featured: Paul McDermott, Tim Ferguson, Richard Fidler Born: (together) Canberra, busking on streets Died: (separately) commercial prime time TV For those that used the break as I did (i.e. watching a lot of crap TV just because you can), the realisation that there is just nothing original on the box anymore is one that really hit home. No station is safe, not even the once abundant garden of the ABC. Ravaged by natural disasters such as ever narrowing budgets and cuts to management, there is just not a whole lot worth laughing about at ol' Aunty anymore, or at least not anything that has been locally produced. As commercial TV stagnates under the rigour
mortis of American sitcom reruns and remakes (insert
stand up comedian in domestic situation here), it seems that the cult of neurotica is here
to stay. If it can't be packaged as the "World's Wackiest/Naughtiest/Stupidest",
then clearly it's not worth its salt. If you're only familiar with the above names as part of the "turn me on" team, then you're in for a bit of a shock. It may surprise you to know that there is more to Mr Ferguson than the big schmooze of the autocue and canned laughter of Unreal TV. (And in case you're wondering, he has always acted like he thought he was the most gorgeous person on the planet, but with the Allstars at least we thought he was joking). Similarly, there is more to Mr Paul McDermott than his current incarnation as the new Don Lane on Good News Week. Sure, he's always liked the sound of his own voice, but at least before he sang things other than "Throw Your Arms Around Me". In the Allstars, his topics of choice were three part harmony pieces about necrophilia, beastiality, and of course the show stopping parables telling of the joys of cancer. Named after a vaguely memorable politician, The Doug Anthony Allstars were far from the Nanna-pleasers they are today. Indeed, they were the cheekiest, uncheesiest performers in the country. As one of the only comedy groups to ever entice (or some would say provoke) audience brawls, physical harassment and streakers, it was ironically the media that would cop the biggest beating. Armed with the ability to spot a lazy journalist as 10 paces, the Allstars managed to convince a major British paper that Doug Anthony was a famous Australian Prime Minister who was assassinated in the late 70s, a complete bulls--- story that ran front page before anybody checked their facts. Similarly, in the early 90s they told the Sydney Morning Herald that they would be starring in Batman 2 with Jack Nicholson, a story which was published hailing them Australia's new comedy heroes despite being complete fiction. Even post break up, it seemed that the media was a mere puppet for the boys. In 1996, McDermott toured the Adelaide and Melbourne festivals with a musical he had written called Mosh. The Melbourne Age's reviewer spent an entire page slagging off the production, However this didn't deter Paul. Having read the reviewer's closing remarks, "whatever you do, don't go and see Mosh", McDermott got creative, and with some clever editing got himself the golden Promo quote for his posters - "see Mosh" (The Age). Five years on and things are al quite different. Tall Poppy Syndrome kicks in whenever there is talk of "going commercial", but is it totally unfounded? Are these and other ex-ABC comedians less cutting edge on commercial TV because they are being made to be? Or is it because they can afford to be? Is it really a sell out when you do it on your terms? An interesting thing to consider is that comedy, no matter how universal its references, does have a use by date. No audience (or performer for that matter) wants to hear the same type of material for over 10 years. And for a group like the Allstars, which had three multi-talented members, the same thing must surely become grating. Mind you, so does a lot of Channel 10 programming.
What commercial television does do However is raise performer's profile to nosebleed
heights,
something that becomes evident when you look at fan clubs. The funniest
"presence" on the web these days is the legions and legions of Paul McDermott
fans. The "Paul McDermott shrine" and "temple" are just the tip of the
iceberg, with extensive quote and picture galleries of the great man and his great voice
extending as far as the mouse can scroll. As a joke I typed in the address
"paulmcdermott.com", only to discover that this was a site not only up and
running, but taking itself very bloody seriously. Claiming to "mix sexuality with
personality", this site in particular was blissfully unaware of the irony of its
mottos. If the focus is on the man as a performer, musician and artist, why do you need to
have so many sultry pictures of him? Others were proudly superficial, with
"paulmcdermott.iscute.com" openly claiming to know or understand little of the
Allstars work, yet being very fond of the way they looked while doing it. Indeed, it seems
many of the net McDermott fans would be happy to watch him in a foreign language, as long
as he promised to sing a tender song at the end of the hour. One of the funniest things I
found was a newspaper clipping
from 1962 in one of the picture galleries. Upon closer inspection I found it was Paul's
first photo. I can just feel my friends ceasing up as they read this, for indeed now the air of hypocrisy is beginning to blow up a gail. I have to confess to having been a big GNW fan in the past (the photos on this page were all taken by me and my sister from just some of our many taping attendances). And yes, I still know all of the Dougs songs word for word (and in many cases in three part harmony). The day Paul called me a "f---wit" in front of an audience of a couple of hundred is still one of the proudest in my life. So what am I bitching about?
Well, I guess the problem is overkill. There is nothing wrong with commercial media, and
indeed why be a struggling artist if you don't need to be? The comedians on The Panel have
the sweetest deal
I guess my question is then, who's getting the chance to cut their teeth now, so as to
step in the limelight in 5 years time? Typed by Mo on MOSH......... Slice of spicy livesOne wonders if sex will be on the agenda when Julie, Mikey and Paul lob for a second session of Good News Week with ads, which defected from the ABC to Channel 10 last year amid much gnashing of Aunty's teeth - is reverting to the old, once-a-week format, dumping the spin-off show GNW Night bite. The irreverent panel quiz relishes sending up the big issues of the week. While Mikey Robins and Paul McDermott have kept a low profile during the off season, McCrossin has been very much in the head- lines. Her new book, Love, Lust & Latex, has - in conjunction with Family Planning - published very intimate sexual revelations "m some famous Australians. For instance, did you know comedian Judith Lucy's first "open- mouthed kiss" was with a Catholic priest (she was just a schoolgirl). Or that comedian Peter Berner of ABC's BackBerner fame lost his virginity to a prostitute on Anzac Day to avoid being the last in his class to have not had sex. Or that Adelaide Festival 2000 artistic director Robyn Archer was 15 when she started having crushes on girls. Or that Julie McCrossin herself is a lesbian. Her dedication in the book reads: "This small contribution to fostering happy relationships is dedicated to my partner Melissa, my stepchildren Luke and Amelia and their dad Michael, just your average new millennium Aussie family". "For those people who've seen me only on Good News Week who had no idea I was a lesbian, something I've been open about since the late '70s, that dedication may come as a surprise," she says. McCrossin describes the book as a "perfect vehicle" for communication between parents and children. "Another big theme that comes through is if your parents can be open with you, it gives you an enormous leg up (so to speak) in those first few years of your sexual life," she says. "The Catholic Church gets a pretty rough rap from Judith Lucy because of the kind of messages she got as a schoolgirl. It took her some time to recover from that. "It is an era in which there's been a bit more of a revelation of the shocking price the Church has paid for keeping its priests celibate and not allowing them to learn about their own sexuality." Peter Berner "Actually says for most men, if they were left alone on an island, they'd (expletive deleted) mud. That kind of sexual drive is there. "Now for him, affection, intimacy and cuddling, he actually says, are more important than orgasms." McCrossin was approached by Family Planning to write the book. Apart from being a quick wit on telly, she is very much a jill of many trades. The verbose Sydneysider has worked as everything from a bus driver to a waitress in hot pants, artists' nude model, touring member of a community theatre, to eight years as an ABC Radio National broadcaster. Now in her final year of a law degree, she also moonlights as an author, journalist, master of ceremonies and conference speaker. McCrossin says she doesn't intend to pursue a law career but can incorporate it in MC work. Of Good News Week, which will again feature Sandman and Flacco (and this week performances by Taxi Ride, Midnight Oil and the Dili A-Allstars), McCrossin admits the show did change in making the transition from public to commercial television - partly because of the different studio audience. "The boss edits very much on the basis of the reaction of that audience," she says. "Because people are seeing it for the very first time, because there is that slice of audience that never turn on the ABC, gradually I think the audience got younger, more and more mobs of school children. It got younger in front of your eyes...and I think we also began to get people who were more working-class. "The ABC audience obviously is generally more likely to be tertiary educated, more likely to be in middle-to-upper-income brackets, and the Channel 10 audience is more likely to be young and it has a large following of people who aren't tertiary qualified. "That affects what you do then on stage, because it's performed live. Cracks that you might make that would have been understood or got a laugh at Channel 2 wouldn't necessarily work as well with that new audience. Just the simple things, literary references or things that an ABC audience might get, certainly you felt you're playing it a bit more broadly". Adelaide Advertiser Wednesday, February 23, 2000 by Simon Yeaman Up Where She Belongs- Dianne ButlerIf there were Logies going for enthusiasm, Julie McCrossin would be a sure thing. Suddenly, in the middle of a conversation about the pros and cons of doing publicity, the Good News Week panelist blurts out a statement that pretty much sums up her attitude to her job: "It's is sort of exciting that I'm on the tele, don't you think? You know, looking at myself as an object...not size 10, very opinionated." McCrossin was a virtual stranger to most viewers when she started on Good News Week. "I've only been on radio, mainly on Radio National, which is of course the egghead station that has a loyal but not large listenership." If only she had that loyal audience now. But Channel 10, after buying Good News Week two years ago from the ABC, had opted this year to bury the show in a dead timeslot and has proceeded to ignore it. McCrossin, a good talker, brings up the subject of the new timeslot first. As she should: Good News Week was starting to build a solid audience last year in it's Monday night slot and even its poor relation, GNW Night Lite was showing signs of life on Thursdays. "I suppose firstly I think that changing time slots has been a real bummer," McCrossin says. "In that really competitive television market I think it's better to sit still, to be perfectly honest. "Right now, I think hardly anyone knows that we're back on air, let alone that it's Saturday night. It's a bugger, it's a terrible bugger." But she's a jolly sort of girl, so she's keeping a positive spin on things. "Look, this is only our second year and last year they invested in publicity and advertising and we had a strong audience. I think our re-entry into 2000 requires some more publicity. And my understanding is they're getting onto it." Hence this interview during which McCrossin is, bad luck for her, babysitting a friend's children without the aid of her television. The repair man is there fixing the television as we speak. None of this fazes McCrossin though, who chats away happily. "To be honest with you, when I first got to Channel 10 what I loved most was the publicity. If you don't rate you disappear and they took the publicity side really seriously. "That wasn't always the case at the ABC." Good News Week was a hit for the ABC, but it's high hip factor always made it a target for commercial TV. McCrossin says a large part of her radio audience followed her onto TV. "But we've lost a lot of them, because Ten goes for the youth demographic." At 45, McCrossin is no longer in that demographic. Neither is Amanda Vanstone, who McCrossin surprisingly singles out as a good guest. "I have to admit that while my political views are somewhat different to Amanda Vanstone's and we've clashed on air about things, I really like her style," she says. "She will block interruption and interrupt when she wants to. It's unpredictable who's going to shine and who isn't. "I think the key to the programme is that it's so intensely competitive, to a degree that until you're up there as one of the guests you don't actually realise that you're in a situation where people are showing you absolutely no quarter whatsoever. "That's what's both so thrilling and challenging. People have to find within themselves the capacity to interject and also, if interrupted, to keep going. "And not everyone can do that." Sunday Mail - TV Scene - 26 March 2000 Good News! It's back to basicsYou may have noticed Ten's Good News week zapped into Saturday night's schedule for a new season, and the good news, according to co-host Julie McCrossin, is the comedy game show is back to basic "meat and potatoes", following a lack-lustre 1999, after moving across from the ABC.Most of that, however, was due to the original concept show spinning off a hybrid, which did more to confuse fans than titillate them. It also put great strain on the core cast of Paul McDermott, Mikey Robbins and McCrossin, who were stretched creatively and physically. McCrossin said she was so "wired" from the show that well into her Christmas holidays she found herself still buying and reading three to four daily papers. But now Ten has cut back to the original one-show concept, returned the emphasis to the week's news, and slotted the show at 8:30 pm (where it belongs). This has given the Good News Week team renewed enthusiasm. "I feel we can add an explosive bacchanalian feel to the end of people's working week," McCrossin said. She recently released a book, Love, Lust and Latex, on how to pursue a safe and happy sex life, which contains interviews and hints from celebrities such as Robyn Archer, Adam Spencer, Senator Natasha Stott Despoja and Judith Lucy. "It's really a thinly disguised sexual survival guide that I've put together in conjunction with a number of government family services departments," she said. "I'm certainly not aware of another book where famous Australians are talking about their private sex lives." One pearler from Love, Lust and Latex concerns ABC comedian and TV host Peter Berner relating how he thought he was the only kid in school who had not lost his virginity, so he went and paid for a prostitute, only to have the most awful experience. Good News Week screens on Channel 10 at 8:30 pm on Saturday. Adelaide TV Plus - 26 March 2000 Laugh? I thought I'd cryIn one blokey, giggly chinwag overheard by more than 1 million eavesdroppers, old friends Tim Ross and Merrick Watts are discussing the shame of being pasted around a golf course by a group of elderly female golfers with gigantic "mummy bulges". They've just moved on after concluding that all buffed men over 35 should be banned from the gym because they make young blokes with man boobies look bad. It's 4.30 on a Tuesday afternoon and all along the FM dial a collection of twittering, gag-cracking, caustic comics are doing their version of the Nashville music writer's eight- hour working day. In they go, to radio studios all over the country, "doing funny" for listeners who want their stand-up served lying down That steady stream of giggles that comes filtering out of your car radio every breakfast and drive-time is worth millions, as are sought after radio jokesters such as Wendy Harmer, Andrew Denton and the now departed Tony Martin and Mick Molloy. The problem is, as the earning potential of the country's best known comedians has soared, decent breaks for new talent have dwindled exponentially. In the space of a decade, dedicated comedy venues in Melbourne, once the centre of Australian comedy, have declined from 14 to just one. It Is a similar story in Sydney. Triple J comedy duo Merrick and Rosso excused themselves from the comedy stand-up circuit almost three years ago. Ross says the pair saw the writing on the wall, that people were getting bored with straight stand-up, and tried something different. They introduced prank phone calls, projectors and video into their show and before too long were making their television debut on Foxtel's comedy channel. "I think you have to be aware that there's a time for purity in art and I don't think now is one of them," says Ross. "The industry is in a dip at the moment because everyone's technology obsessed... It's not enough to just be funny. You have to come up with new ideas, market yourself, attack and make people come and see you, and I'm not sure many people are doing that. I don't think you make a living on the circuit anymore." The duo hadn't anticipated a career in radio but recognised that mainstream TV breaks had become increasingly difficult to find. At the same time, other dependable avenues for comics are also disappearing. Development money in TV networks, particularly at the ABC, which traditionally fostered new comic talent, has all but dried up - along with the mettle of commissioning editors. Radio and pay-TV are fast moving to fill that void, particularly the comedy channel, which has already sired and married off comedians such as Merrick and Rosso and Rove McManus to the big networks. That's fine for the happy few. Elsewhere, the dip has hit comedy where it hurts - right in the bottom jokes. The Melbourne Comedy Festival which opened on Thursday, is really the last laugh for grassroots comedy. In its 14-year history, turnover has grown from $400,000 in the early years to more than $2 million today. It is the one time of the year Melbourne audiences seek out live comedy en masse and the best chance any amateur comedian has of getting a break. The stakes can also be high for the professionals. Ubiquitous Melbourne comedy writer and stand-up comic Dave O'Neil no longer counts himself among the thousands of comedians on the breadline, working the pub circuit for loose change. Better known among industry players than comedy consumers, O'Neil makes a good living because he is willing to accept a variety of jobs. On the day we speak, he has done his regular three- hour breakfast show on Melbourne public radio Triple R, an all-day shoot for the comedychannel and is limbering up for an 8.30pm stand-up at the Melbourne Comedy Club - "a factory" for stand-ups. On top of that he is in the middle of launching his Unfit for Life book - a comprehensive almanac for slackers. He's a hard worker and for that he earns astoundingly good money - way more than $100,000 last year. But for him, as with so many other comedians, festival performances are still about making the right connections for the next step in the career ladder. It's not just a comedy festival; It's a trade show - and director Susan Provan will happily admit as much. "It's true, comedians will often chart success in-a-festival not from what they make at the box office but if they managed to make new contacts," she says. "Industry people, casting and ad agency talent scouts come from all over Australia and festival directors from other parts of the world to see what's going on." The opportunities are there, but it's not the relative bonanza of more than a decade ago. The rash of seminal Australian comedies, which started with Rod Quantock's Australia You're Standing in It and The Gillies Report and arguably peaked with The Big Gig, D-Generation, The Comedy Company and Full Frontal, created enormous opportunities for both comic performers and writers. More than 10 years since those shows first introduced Steve Vizard, Paul McDermott, Andrew Denton and Rob Sitch to big audiences, the same school of comedians still dominate TV comedy. The only difference is these days the comedy has taken a more sophisticated turn. The Late Show metamorphosed into Funky Squad, Frontline, then The Panel; The Big Gig into shows such as Good News Week. For Vizard, king of TV comedy production in this country through the coin- pany he founded and chairs, Artist Services (soon to be known as Red Heart Productions under a merger deal), Fast Forward turned into the David Letterman Late Show-deriv-ative Tonight Live. Sketch shows, the comedy barns for aspiring stars, are all but dead. In their place is what Good News Week's executive producer Ted Robinson calls "smart-arsery". Robinson argues that shows such as Good News Week not only provide huge opportunities for emerging comedians but stretch the boundaries of the old TV sketch comedy formula. "They not only give comedians a chance to demonstrate how quick they are on their feet but also fold in semi-prepared material so they can look even funnier and more spontaneous than a human could ever expect to be. There's this whole thing about getting people sitting down and talking. That throws me because that's the sort of thing I've been trying to do for years. I've always held television can be about wit and talking, and not just about footballers dressing up in frocks." Such shows are not to everyone's taste of course, a fact attested to by Good News Week's continuously disappointing ratings. What's more, news of the new TV-Influenced style of Australian comedy has been slow to reach audiences abroad. No amount of sophistication, it seems, can convince the world that Australian humour Is anything other than "a bit rude". Karen Koran runs the Gilded Balloon - one of Edinburgh's most famous comedy venues - and is an ardent champion of Australian humour. She has hosted all of this country's best known stand-ups, including Judith Lucy, Wendy Harmer, Rachel Berger, Greg Fleet and Steady Eddy. Yet even she will admit the content can sometimes be a little raw for the genteel British car. "They're not scared to say what they think. Some English may find that distasteful - personally, 1 don't." Although shows such as Good News Week and The Panel are trying to turn that view around, comedians such as O'Neil, who cut his teeth on Full Frontal and Jimeoin, still mourn the death of the good, honest sketch show. "There always used to be comedy shows like Full Frontal for young people to get a foot in the door, but there's no big sketch show at the moment," O'Neil says. "There doesn't seem to be any space for comedy at the ABC anymore." Much fuss was made of the ABC's newest venture, BackBerner, supposedly a reincarnation of Max Gillies-type political satire, but O'Neil says the public broadcaster is no longer pulling its weight. Within the comics-without-contracts community, that would appear to be the main complaint; although the networks plead ratings and financial imperatives as the justification for not nurturing new talent, they will happily let someone else take the risks and pluck ripening stars as they emerge. "The major broadcasters, in radio and TV, all reap the benefits of comic talent once it's developed and famous," says. Provan. "For them, comedians are another generation of pop stars who can create large amounts of high-rating product, but there's a bit of a reluctance to actually invest in the bottom end of the market and that's where people really get their opportunity." Provan is also critical of the networks' mercurial approach to new talent, and cites the Nine network's hasty signing of Rove McManus and Mick Molloy last year in an attempt to throw off its stodgy mantle - only to lose its nerve within months. There is still no word on whether young Melbourne comedian McManus will get a second bite of the cherry this year. Although the show rated well and fulfilled its expectations - drawing a badly needed younger audience to the traditional family channel - Nine continues to drag its feet. Then there was the ribald but ill-fated Mick Molloy Show, which was tipped to be the cutting-edge replacement for the comfortably frumpy Hey! Hey! It's Saturday format. The show should have been hurricane-proof, with a line-up of the country's biggest crowd-pulling comics headed by one of the most successful and popular radio comedians. Why that didn't translate in TV terms is not a question Nine spent much time pondering. Instead, it crumpled at the first missives of disapproval from viewers accustomed to Nine's traditionally sedate and family friendly brand of humour. "I was really disappointed it got pulled off air," says Provan. "I think Mick's an extraordinary talent and I can't believe something could not have been saved from that." What concerns Provan most about the networks' pathological aversion to risk- taking is not only that they are limiting their future star pool but that they may also be holding back the progress and development of mainstream comedy in this country. "I actually think comedy is ready to expand a bit more and I worry about the conservatism of the networks. I worry about the extent to which they can compromise developing a taste in the community for new and interesting things because I think the general public are open to things." Good News Week's Robinson sees things differently. "At least Nine had a go. It was a well- intentioned attempt to make itself less moribund. They got rid of Daryl [Somers] and got Mick Molloy [but] they still have the same commercial imperative so they couldn't give [the show] enough chance to find its feet." As the former commissioning editor for the ABC's comedy section before moving to Ten with Good News Week and the brains behind seminal shows such as The Big Gig and The Late Show, Robinson is a fairly recent defector to commercial TV. But he will concede that the networks have largely failed to foster new talent and that the ABC, once fertile breeding ground for comic talent, "is a bit lost at the moment". In such a climate, it seems, it is the old jokes that are drawing the biggest laughs, as The Wog Boy, the film incarnation of the long-running Wogs out of Work gag will attest. Its reward for ploughing well-trodden ground was more than $4 million in box-office takings in its first week - and all because it could raise a giggle. The Melbourne Comedy Festival runs to April 23. Published in The Weekend Australian - Review pages 16-18. April 1 - 2 2000. ABC Farewells three years of good newsABC television has confirmed that Good News Week will not be returning to the network this year. In making the announcement, general manager, Network Television, Ron Saunders, said ABC TV management had been in negotiation with the program's producers for a considerable time, discussing the future options for the program and the team of people who produce and present it. "ABC is disappointed that Good News Week will not be part if the 1999 lineup," Mr Saunders said. "The show has had three successful years on the network and we look forward to the future opportunities that may see the return of such a talented team. It will be interesting to watch how the program works in a commercial television environment." "The ABC has a long history of discovering and developing Australian talent and Good News Week is a prime example of this." "Paul McDermott, Mikey Robins and Julie McCrossin have all had their broadcasting careers launched on the ABC - Paul with The Big Gig and D*A*A*S Kapital, Mikey on Triple J and Julie on Radio National." Mr Saunders and everyone at ABC wished the people behind the show the - writer, producers and on-air team, led by executive producer, Ted Robinson - continued success in their new venture. "Although ABC has exclusive rights to the program format for a further six months, we decided not to enforce the clause. ABC TV is currently developing a number of new comedy program ideas that will ensure ABC audiences continue to have access to fresh Australian talent and shows." Good News Week's executive producer, Ted Robinson, acknowledged the ABC's contribution to the success of the program. "Most of us on this show have learnt our craft at the ABC. The time has come to take that experience into new areas and make way for the next generation of talented comedians, writers and producers," he said. In The Hot SeatTim Ferguson If there's one thing charismatic comedian Tim Ferguson likes, it's a career challenge. He's played Frank 'N' Furter in The New Rocky Horror Show, hosted the off-the-wall Don't Forget Your Toothbrush and now fronts Network Ten's outrageous Unreal TV! But this funky funnyman says he likes to push the boundaries. We found how much by putting Tim in the Hot Seat TV WEEK: How did Unreal TV come about for you? TIM: They called me and said they were putting together a show with bizarre clips from around the world. It was going to be Japanese peoples torturing each toher, Swedish people baring their body parts and newsreaders getting it wrong. All I do is sit on a couch and make a fool of myself. TVW: What draws you to outrageous projects? TIM: The challenge! You've got to do stuff that's difficult and puts your head on the chopping block. So long as you're worried, terrified, and tossing and turning at night, what you're doing is probably good. TVW: Is that your secret to good television? TIM: Yeah! You should scare yourself every once in a while and push those boundaries. TVW: What's your favourite TV comedy? TIM: The Simpsons, Newhart and The Mary Tyler Moore Show - I just love Ted Baxter [Ted Knight]. I base my life on his teachings. TVW: Who's the funniest person on TV? TIM: It's a toss up between Paul McDermott, Glen Robbins and Mikey Robins - and Kate Langbroek makes me laugh. TVW: What was it like reuniting with Doug Anthony Allstars member Paul McDermott on Good News Week? TIM: It's always nice to get together with Paul to see if the old chemistry still fails - and it does, every time. TVW: What is the wackiest thing you're done for the cameras? TIM: I once made a short Dutch erotic film. It wasn't a comedy, but I was young, in Amsterdam and I needed money TVW: What else are you doing? TIM: I'm working on a one-man show and writing a novel about Australian casino culture. It'll probably get me killed! SUNDAY MAGAZINE (SUNDAY HERALD SUN) - January 23 2000Big blokes are allowed to cry too, you knowTHE PRIVATE PASSIONS OF THE THINKING MAN'S YOBBO - He burps, he drinks he tells crass jokes. Mikey Robins is Australia's most loveable slob. What few people know is that he collects antique Japanese porcelain, sees a personal trainer and is hopelessly devoted to his wife. So is the yobbo image all an act? No, he tells CLAUDIA SAMMUT, he's the real deal - but no one ever said yobbos had to be morons. Mikey Robins slurps on the straw of a fizzing red soda, exhales a low yet audible burp, an "Aaah" of relief, then with an idiosyncratic smile says: "We used to call them fire engines when I was a kid." The grin spreads increases across his face and his brown eyes warm. "I can remember sitting in the car while my Dad was in the pub. He'd bring one of them (sodas) out with a packet of chips, and sometimes 50 cents not to tell Mum he'd stopped at the pub on the way home. He'd have a few (drinks) with his mates, and we'd sit in the car with the radio and have a red drink." Sitting at a little round table in the faded rooms of the Waverly Bowling Club in Sydney watching Robins suck on the straw of this lurid-colored drink, it's not hard to imagine what the kid Mikey might have been like. Chuckling between yarns about 'The Goon Show' and old 'Morecombe and Wise' reruns, he recalls watching his beloved rugby league team the South Sydney Rabbitohs fight it out against the North Sydney Bears on Souths home tug in June. Norths won, but that didn't stop Robins and mate Steve Abbott (Triple J's The Sandman) going troppo - shirts off and rubbing stomachs. 'I find it very surprising that I am 38,' Robins says. "There are times when you think about your responsibilities and there is a little voice in your head that says, 'Well actually, no, I'm just a big high school kid'." Fortunately, the little voice didn't speak during Robins' recent wedding ceremony. In August last year the 'Good News Week' star married long-time partner Laura Williams, a petite former actor who is now his business manager. "She is phenomenally organised which is good because she also looks after the business side of my work," says Robins. "When she took it over I hadn't filed a tax return for seven years. I'd pay all my tax. I am notoriously disorganised. She just gives me a list. If I'm out somewhere I ring her on the mobile and say, 'Do I have to be somewhere else now?'" Williams, also 38, is the daughter of a pilot. She spent her early youth in Hong Kong and later worked in the superannuation industry in the United Kingdom. The couple met four years ago at a Republican Party fundraiser in Sydney. "She wasn't invited so she gate-crashed and grabbed a name tag of someone and the name she grabbed was mine," Robins recalls. "I heard her saying, 'Who the hell is this Mickey Robins?" and I turned around and said. 'It's Mikey actually'. And we started talking." Robins describes her as "the love of his life". She is incredibly generous of spirit, she's very forgiving, not just towards me. She's a very girly girl. She has a cream for every inch of her body. The latest thing is the electric toothbrush. She is incredibly neat." I wonder how the fastidious, feminine wife manages Mikey's blokey pastimes. Robins assures me she is relaxed. "It's fine," he says, puffing on a cigarette. "It's like, 'I'm going to the pub now darling'. (And she says) 'OK'. The only condition is I take the mobile. She can ring me at whatever time and tell me to get in a cab and come home, and I will. "She's always saying she wants to come to the football with me. But she admitted at the end of the season that she hates the game. The only thing she hates more than football is cricket." Born Mikel Mason Robins, the comedian grew up in a laidback beachside locale of Newcastle in the 1960s. There are vivid memories of the swarms of aged pensioners who resided in his street, the broad surf beaches, and large family gatherings with jovial Irish-Catholic relatives who told silly jokes, including a grandfather wag who took his teeth out for fun. Robins' father worked as a weekend announcer at surf life saving carnivals, while dabbling in stand-up comedy at local events. "It was my introduction to talking into a microphone," Robins remembers affectionately. "My father was the centre of attention, and (I thought) that looks like fun. It was a good feeling. I think he would have wanted to have gone into show business, but the pressures of having a family..." His voice trails. "Times were different. He became a travelling salesman." Selling hair-care products to salons, Bill Robins spent much of his week on the road. "Every now and then he would drive to Gosford. He would always pick up chocolates for us. He used to tell us there was a man in Gosford who made Bertie Beetle chocolates especially for us. I believed it completely until he kindly told me one day that he just bought them at the newsagency. That was a big year. I think there was no Santa and first 'where babies come from' conversation, so they decided to destroy all three myths at once." They were not the only childhood illusions to be destroyed. When Robins was eight his father was diagnosed with cancer and died two years later. "There was always tripe to hospital, and having to go to Sydney, and relatives crying and all that sort of stuff. I'm not overly sentimental, but there was a sense that it probably would have made Dad proud (to know his son inherited his sense of humor). It probably would have made him happy." In an effort to lift the grief, Robins' mother Leila decided to take Mikey and younger sister Gina as far from Newcastle as possible. Using Bill's life insurance proceeds, she packed up their belongings and booked three air tickets to London. That six months abroad was an amazing awakening for Robins. "We went from living in this working-class suburb in Newcastle to living in the Green Park Hotel in London. It was the first time I discovered room service, catching cabs. I'd never been to an airport before, never been on a plane. It gave you a sense that there was more to life. Doing that at an early age made me realise that you could do things differently. "She had a dogged sense of ambition," Robins says of his late mother. "She went to uni when she was 40 and became a teacher. (Previously she had a job at K-Mart.) She wanted to change her life. She got her HSC, then studied for four years to become an (English) teacher. "It was a single-parent family, so yes, we were very close. I don't often talk much about my childhood. Not that it was that traumatic or anything, but people all think, 'Oh well, his father died early'. It was actually much more mundane than that. All childhoods are relative. People grow up in horrific circumstances and find happiness. It was sad that my father spent two years dying, but as a kid you are more worried about bikes and football." And his weight? "It (his father's death) was the start of my ongoing battle with food. Nothing psychological. I always loved shoving food in my gob. I was a chubby kid. But I think (my mother) just decided it was time to do something about it. She was very conscious of her weight. She was slim." Sending him off to Weight Watchers with 15 middle-aged, overweight women may have been a mother's well-intentioned way of expressing love, but for 10-year-old Mikey there was only one word to describe it. "Appalling!" Today he laughs about it, remembering it as a "weird" and "funny" thing. He jokes similarly about being teased over his chubbiness at school, but says he was no more picked on than the "kid with red hair or the kid with big ears". "It was playground stuff. You know what kids are like. Like any fat kid you're going to get picked on so it's best to get in first. I think anyone who has survived a public-school playground is pretty well grounded to get through life. I was hideous. I used to taunt people awfully." Robins' carefree attitude to the "fatman" epithet belies a more basic human reality in which a large man, passionate about food and drink, is forced to succumb to salad sandwiches and personal training. "I hate it," he says/ "I hate denying myself things. I hate exercise. The only way I did it (he lost 20 kilos after being diagnosed with an ulcer a year ago) was to become the sort of person I make fun of and get a trainer. And she's great. I feel sorry for her though. She doesn't need an hour of me whingeing and scheming and pretending I've got cramp. "It's amazing. You have this mindset and suddenly you're at school and doing gym. You pretend your ankle's sore, you pretend you've got cramp. And at the end of it all you say. 'Hey, I got out of it'. I virtually did nothing, and it cost me 30 bucks. I can't help myself." Mention the word food and Robins almost salivates. "He loves cooking it, eating it, and he writes great restaurant reviews," says freelance TV producer and long-time friend Helen Linthorne. Asked what he would do outside comedy and Robins is tongue-in-cheek. "I was in a deli today and I thought that'd be nice. Running a really good deli. Mind you, giving me a deli would be like giving Charles Manson a shotgun!" In the comedy business Robins is known for his flair for combining the cross with the intelligent, a lightning-quick wit and a natural ability to develop audience rapport. "He is the master of the strangely appropriate comment," says Sandman Steve Abbott, who studied arts with Robins at Newcastle University. 'Good News Week' co-star Julie McCrossin describes him as a "screamingly funny person", bounding with a energy and never stuck for a word. She recalls Robins saving the day when filming "Good News Week" at last year's Brisbane Writer's Festival, which was hit but a freak electrical storm blackout. "The water was pouring down and because of the wind it was blowing sideways directly into the performance area (with a 2500-strong audience). Well, Mikey just leapt up and started telling jokes. Bang - they were coming like a six-gun Western shootout...And absolutely good humor. You got the feeling that with a stubby of beer in his hand he could have told jokes until dawn." Over the years Robins has earned his quid doing clown acts at children's parties, washing dishes at a Sydney pub, performing in a cabaret band called The Castanets (alternating between Elvis impersonations - "It was just me in a white jumpsuit playing 'Love Me Tender' through a recorder up my nose" - and beating out tunes on conga drums). He has also co-written two books: 'Three Beers and a Chinese Meal' (with Helen Razer), a best seller, and 'Big Man's World' (co-authored by Abbott and Tony Squires), a series of musings on the ebb and flow of a male existence. A seven-year stint as Triple J breakfast show host ('91-98) launched his career in TV comedy, appearing on "Live and Sweaty" and "McFeast" before joining Paul McDermott on 'Good News Week' in '96. His smart exterior - grey suit, black polished shoes and designer cufflinks - is an interesting guise for a man whose humor largely feeds off a drink-swilling yobbo image. What 'Good News Week' fans want to know is whether the off-screen Mikey Robins is also a yobbo. "That's me" he volunteers. "I like going to the football. I like drinking vast quantities of alcohol with my mates. I'm a slob. I remember when I was living in share households, my flatmates used to charge admission for guests to see my room." There is a certainly a gross side to Robins. He burps, makes crass comments, swears intermittently. But The Sandman - best man at Robins' wedding - says the yobbo image is more perception than reality. "The stereotype is that you look at home and you think he's a yobbo, but there is more to him. He's also a real pussycat. For a big guy he's actually very gentle, he's incredibly well-read and super intelligent. He loves his cat Jasmine. Jasmine's the dumbest cat I've ever seen in my life, and the guy loves that cat. He loves art. He's a renaissance man. He's like a conglomerate rock. In the end it just moulds into one giant." Robins is at ease with the two personas. What defines yobbo-ism, he says is lack of pretension. "I think there's an honesty there. Just because you're a yobbo doesn't mean your mouth moves when you read. I see no dichotomy between using the word dichotomy and having a rugby league team which I love dearly. Just because you read certain books, you like certain films, doesn't mean you have to enclose yourself in a red wine, Volvo, designer-clothed enclave. It is possible to enjoy rudimentary aspects of Australian life as well as having high-brow pursuits. I think that's a great thing about Australia." Colleagues and friends speak highly of Robins' generosity, loyalty and relaxed disposition, his "lack of affectation in the face of success", and down-to-earth Aussie spirit. Says McCrossin: He's proud of his Newcastle origins. He's passionate about South Sydney rugby league. He is a person of very strong views about society and particularly social justice, and that comes through strongly when you're with him away from the telly. On TV his views are always packaged in a joke." Mikey Robins doesn't mind talking about his sensitive side. He says he's emotional - cries at anything from soup advertisements to 'Titanic' - loves history, and is a keen collector of Edoperiod Japanese porcelain. But, at present, the thing he is most passionate about is Laura. "I'm a very lucky man," he says with faint disbelief. "I married the love of my life. We both met each other in our 30s. To meet someone in the relationship game, that's actually leaving it to quite late in the day. To meet your perfect partner then...you're thankful every day." The fears, dislikes and dark side of a funny manIt shows in his eyes, in his manner and can be heard in his soft voice - Paul McDermott is exhausted.So much so he says he does not care if he never appears on television again. In a frank interview with the Sunday Telegraph, McDermott revealed the relief he felt when his show Good News Week was axed. Im just so tired, I dont feel I have been human for five years, he said. People may disagree and say I never have been human being. I have been losing certain parts of my nature, I didnt notice it for a long time. I have lost a bit of my humanity each time. People close to me were gradually moving away, i have become a Mr. Smelly, Mr. Odious, Mr. obnoxious. The show, which McDermott presents with comedians Mikey Robins and Julie McCrossin, has propelled the former Doug Anthony Allstar into the commercial spotlight. Suddenly he was recognised and approached by admiring fans as he went about the mundane duties of his life. The pressure of over-zealous fans has added to his angst. Theres girls who camp outside my home and follow me as I take my washing to the Laundromat, he said. People leave disgusting messages on my answering machine, carnation and strange letters in my mailbox. I have a profile now which I didnt before, theres an awareness of me as a performer. Its not something I'm over-joyed with, that people recognise me more often and that rubbish. I find it a bit difficult to handle. Off stage, McDermott possesses none of the energy, exuberance and front he oozes on the camera. He is an intensely shy man who avoids conversation and is happiest writing, creating art works and painting. After GNWs final show, being filmed at the Capitol Theatre on November 8, the presenter will seek solace in his artistic pursuits. Until then his focus will be on the final thing. Its going to be bigger than Aida, he said. We have got Anastasia for it, thats really good, shes extraordinary. Thats worth coming along for even if you hate us, which you may well do. All the usual cast of villains, Flacco and the Sandman, and were trying to get as many of our regular star players to join us for this final extravaganza. In the past few years of the show we made a lot of mistakes. The one and a half hour time was a real mistake, I think its impossible to sustain that level of interest, especially with a glorified panel game. I think we did some great stuff over the course of that year but its very hard for people to stay with the program, to be there for the distance. I couldnt do it. In a way it feels good not to have all the demands. Its definitely time to move on, try new things. Good news Week first screened on the ABC in 1996 as a half hour satirical game show. In March 1999 it moved to Channel 10 and in November of that Year a 90minute variety show special GNW Nite Lite began. It was canned in March. With the various reincarnations of Good New Week the ratings dipped until channel ten executives, this month, decided the program was no longer viable. McDermott was happy that the shows demise came before his own. I wouldnt have done it at this level for another year, said McDermott. I just think we went in a lot of wrong directions. People are often baffled by the fact that you can be very insular and quiet yet youre happy to perform, it brought out an aspect in me. I find that performance aspect is quiet easy, its easier to be up on stage performing than to be in an audience surrounded by people, that got really intense. People would often ask where the energy came from, its just there, you have to do it. With some of those double records, and the big Perth shows went for eight hours, that's a long time for anybody to be on stage talking, singing songs and running around. Its exhausting, but not initially, it takes a couple of days to really catch up. Im going to take a rest for a while, a long rest. Avoiding the world, thats what i do best, sitting in a big chair looking at the ocean. McDermott is not your conventional television personality. He has no interest in fame, wants nothing to do with television executives and cares little about the much mentioned ratings. I know channel 10 wont really like me saying this but i dont really care about the rating, i never have, i think to me i do something to the best of my ability, he said. If for some reason people arent watching then I'm not really that concerned. I dont want to scrimp or cut corners so more people watch the box so more cars can be sold or so we can have more of those AMP ads. Commercial is commercial, thats what they drive on but to attempt to win viewers with something that would be false, i wouldnt even contemplate it. As for what comes next McDermott has no idea. A book of his newspaper columns is due for release later this year. He also has a collection of hand painted books he hopes to sell. On Tuesday he will hand over the hosting of the Arias to comedian Rove McManus. A special with Mikey robins, is due to air on October 31, called Paul and the Fatman, may develop into a new series for next year. But the idea of never returning to the small screen does not phase him. I dont think I'd be displeased. he said. Before Good News Week there was no interest in me at all as a performer, the only person who supported me was Ted Robinson (executive producer GNW). The powers that be didnt want me, they were quite adamant, it could have been the dreadlocks, that tragic white Rasta thing never quite worked. Id be quite happy not to open my mouth for a number of years. I really loved doing the show, we performed some radical TV for its time. At the time we started working, very few shows in Australian TV allowed those acerbic, witty performers to do what they do best. Im looking at six months off, i dont know, I very rarely make decisions on my own life. Some people have five year plans, I'm just a cork from a bottle. I have been lucky with the tides, basically people have been kind to me, I haven't gone out searching for things. The final show will be a bit of a celebration. I cant predict the future, there may be tears, I'm not sure, I'll be crying too much. Published in the Sunday Telegraph on |