by Shane Briant
You might have thought that the commissioning editors there would have been interested in reading my new novel, in view of the fact that they had published my first two books, and made quite a decent profit on the third, but it didn't enter their heads, and frankly I wanted to make as much money again as I had with 'Hitkids,' so I was merely surprised – not angry.
To this day I think their behaviour was odd. Over the years, I made a great friend of the late managing director of Harper Collins Australia, Barrie Hitchon. We'd meet in the Queen Victoria Building for coffee and chat about his experiences in the publishing biz. He'd told me he'd enjoyed my novels, but since he was basically running the business end rather than the creative end of Harper he had no say in commissioning books. It was Barrie who had told me of the disastrous reprint that did me such harm, and he'd thought it quite wrong when Harper decided not to publish my third book.
"You have to have a belief in the writer. If you give him a go, then stick with him for at least three books, and make sure everyone knows the books are out there in the market place."
Barrie was a great friend as well as a great managing director for Harper.
When I write my books, I find it helpful to visualize my characters doing whatever it is they are engaged in. I like to see the actual streets, the food they're eating; often I can even feel their sadness or anguish. During 'Bite of the Lotus' I always had a vision of Cate Blanchett as my heroine, with Russell Crowe as my 'tough guy.' So it was a moment of serendipity when Wendy and I chanced on Cate at an art exhibition of a friend of hers – Tim McGuire. Rather than let this opportunity slip, I suggested to Wendy that we chat to Cate and her husband Andrew Upton. Not as a hard sell for my book, but because I had always thought her very intelligent as well as 'normal.'
They were both extremely friendly and charming. As I remember, we talked about the McGuire's canvasses, possible
about by novel, but later I sent her a copy with a note enclosed. I tried to get a copy to Russell, but despite my vague connection, having once worked with Danielle Spencer in 'Mission Top Secret,' this proved impossible.
If the film were ever made they'd make a stunning team.
The connection with 9/11 is interesting. 'Bite' had been in the stores for just three months or so when the planes hit the Twin Towers. In the exciting conclusion of the novel an elderly Australian decides he will take a terrible revenge on the Vietnamese tycoon who took advantage of his daughter and island hops his DC3 airplane from Sydney to Hanoi, and flies the plane into the home of the bad guy. As far as I knew, know no one had thought of this method of killing people before. But three months after the launch thousands died in New York and the sales of 'Bite' slumped – no one wanted to read about planes flying into buildings.
Designed by Scott Citron in New York.
SEX IN LIMOS, & ROGER MIRAMS.
1999, and the two years that followed, were lean years in terms of my feature film work. The eighties were the Australian boom years with the birth of government incentive schemes such as one everyone knew then as 10BA.
Without going into too much detail, 10BA proved to be useful as a method of laundering money by investing in movies and obtaining tax breaks. I'm not sure when the government axed the scheme, one that had helped bring so many Australian films to the world, but I think it was around then. So, without a plethora of Aussie movies in the mix, coupled with the fact I was getting longer in the tooth and the Oz film industry, like America, was becoming obsessed by youth, it was back to television and more bad guys. One show was called 'Wildside.' In my opinion this was one of the best cop series ever made in Australia. Great scripts and a solid cast, including Tony Martin and Rachel Blake. I wish I had been a regular on that series but it wasn't to be, so I played a crooked barrister. All I can remember of the episode I was in was that I had sex with the comedic actor Mary Coustas in the back of a limousine – not in real life, mind you.
That year saw the release of a film called 'Airtight.' A film I'd made one year earlier, a futuristic piece written and directed by Ian Barry.
'Airtight' centres on futuristic air pollution. Imagine a time where crime families no longer deal in booze, prostitution or protection rackets. When air, water and energy are the new 'territories' fought over by underworld barons. I played on of these 'scurrilous chappies.'As the air quality becomes toxic, humans can no longer breathe it. All the major cities are enclosed in plastic bubbles and have recycled air pumped in. But corruption raises its ugly head and the 'Air Barons' decide to take over all air supply and charge money for it. Ultimately only those who can afford it will have any air to breathe.
A great idea for a movie, I thought, though I have to admit I wanted to know what happened to all the animals and insects that lived outside the bubbles.
There's a great scene at the end of 'Airtight' when our hero, 'Rat,' guns down all of the bad guys with a machine gun. Lots of special effects, blood capsules and mayhem. The entire set was trashed, and every stick of furniture was left dripping with fake blood!
'Airtight' sold very well all over the world – America, Germany, Hungary, France, and Brazil.
That same year, I was asked up to the Gold Coast to play a wheelchair-bound, voice-boxed deviant criminal by the name of 'The Mongoose' in a futuristic television movie starring Bobbie Philips and Doug Penty. This time it was for American television. It was a fullon action pic, and incredibly violent to boot. I loved it. Because 'The Mongoose' had a voice box, my dialogue had to be changed in post production.
'The Mongoose' – one scary dude.
The chair they gave me was state of the art. Incredible. A far cry from Sir Clifford Chatterley's. I was supposedly a quadriplegic and had only the use of my forefinger and thumb. It definitely was a challenge to arrive on my marks with pinpoint accuracy because I
wasn't allowed to look down; I just had to judge distances myself by what was around me.
'Chameleon 3' certainly had its moments. I especially liked the scene where everything starts to go wrong for 'The Mongoose' and he high-tails his wheelchair to a broom cupboard to hide, only to find himself locked in it. Many hours later the cops arrive, open the cupboard and begin questioning him. Of course, 'The Mongoose' is such an arrogant sonofabitch, he refuses to talk. So they simply shut the door again in his face. From behind the door we hear a muffled voice-box croak, "No…wait…!" The silence that follows always makes me laugh – the Coyote-syndrome yet again. What does the crestfallen bad guy say when they re-open the door? 'I want… to speak… with my lawyer,' he desperately crackles through his voice box.
It was too much to hope 'Mission Top Secret' would go to a third series. Money is always hard to find, and although Roger Mirams worked like a beaver to get up series number three, he couldn't attract enough partners. Spain, as ever, was keen as well as Germany, but the others….?
It's interesting to note, as well as being a rather a damning indictment of American television executives, that when Roger tried to sell the first two series to Disney, the executives shook their heads, telling Roger apologetically; "You see it's all set in Europe and Australia. Nothing in America! Kids here don't give a damn about places like Paris and Sydney. Most of them have never heard of Palma, and Madrid. As for Poland…"
Probably this mindset has been around since the birth of television in America. There are channels such as PBS where the minority of Americans can watch film and television from all over the world, but correct me if I'm wrong, I don't believe any single foreign television series other than documentaries have ever been bought by the major networks in America. They have, of course, bought our concepts and crucified them. A case in point is the Australian series, 'Kath and Kim,' which was originally gloriously irreverent, but when translated into 'Americanese' became so politically correct, all sense of humour was gone! The same thing happened to the wonderful British sitcom, 'Absolutely Fabulous' also known as, 'Ab Fab.' In the series the two central characters, played by Joanna Lumnley and Jennifer Sau
nders were binge drinkers, cocaine snorters and dope fiends, they swore like troopers and was a neglectful parent. In the American version the producers weren't allowed to air scenes that contained swearing, drug use, binge drinking and dysfunctional behaviour. You can imagine how funny that remake was.
And while this is the case in America, we in Australia are flooded with American material because the producers of this material have already made their money in the USA; so selling their series to Australia, Germany, and Japan etc is simply icing on the cake. How can Australia compete when it costs us twenty times the money to make an hour of drama here than to buy fourteen episodes of say, 'Bones,' or 'The Mentalist?'
There's no use complaining. One might just as well complain that the cost of making a garment in India or China is a fraction of that in America. That's simply the way it is.
So, instead of another 'Mission,' Roger busied himself selling another pet project of his to a channel in Australia.
Ever since he was a child Roger had wanted to make Robert Louis Stevenson's 'Treasure Island.' He believed now was the time to make his dreams come true, so he gathered the same writing team as on 'Mission,' and soon had a pilot ready.
The story of 'The Search for Treasure Island' was this. Seven
people struggle through a tempestuous storm and come out the other side to be shipwrecked on an island that proves to be Robert. L. Stevenson's famous 'Treasure Island.' But here's the twist, the island is inhabited by three separate and extremely odd primitive tribes.
I amused myself playing 'Dante,' a Tolkien-esque oddball bad guy, but this series, for me at any rate, was hard work. My old mate from 'Mission,' Freddy Parslow, was another lead, as was the beautiful Brittany Byrnes. I always thought she had an Audrey Hepburn air to her that was captivating.
Roger, 'The King of Australian Children's Television,' Mirams, was the most wonderful, hilarious character. Here are some examples of this marvelously eccentric man.
On the second series of 'Mission' I arrived in the breakfast room of the Madrid hotel where we were staying. Roger was tucking into a hearty breakfast with his lovely wife, Irene. He saw me enter and looked at me in blank surprise.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"It's me, Roger. Shane. I play Neville Savage," I replied.
"I know that!" he said. "But you don't start working till Monday. Today's Thursday!"
"I think the idea was, Roger, that the cast be given a couple of days to get over the thirty hour trip here," I replied. "You know? Jet lag?"
Not happy, he continued to eat his bacon and eggs.
"I don't know. These days actors are thoroughly spoiled," he mumbled.
But that was the producer of the old school speaking. Business class was a luxury for all other than producers, as were two days to rest and recuperate after flying around the world.
Over the years Wendy and I became good friends with Roger and Irene. They owned a house on Mackerel Beach about forty minutes from central Sydney. It was perched up on a hill above the beach and was only accessible by the old ferry that plied its way around Pittwater. Often Irene and Roger would invite us over for a wonderful lunch when he'd also invite his grandchildren. The garden and the inclinator that led up to his house were always packed with jokes, automated bloody hands, scary masks, and other intriguing toys. Children adored his wonderfully eccentric sense of humour. Even the inclinator itself was a wonder. When you stepped inside and hit the 'up' button, an audiotape would play 'The Chattanooga Choo Choo.'
It really was a fun place to visit. When it came to personal generosity, Roger knew no limit, but when he put on his producer's hat he was a miser.
Another 'for instance.'
Many weeks after we had returned from France, Roger called me and after some initial banter, asked me what I was doing that day. I told him I had it virtually free.
"Then can you do me a favour and come to Grundy house – just for an hour or so," he asked.
I told him I'd be happy to help him out in any way, and then asked him what it was all about. Roger told me there was some problem about when I pulled off my 'Leonardo da Vinci' facemask to reveal my 'Savage' face.
"I'm sure we could fix it up in no time at all. Tell you what; I'll buy you some wine. How about that?"
All actors know what a re-shoot is. It's something you get paid for. But Roger was asking me 'as a mate' to settle for some wine. Because he was Roger, I agreed. Life's too short to see a friend disappointed. I arrived at Grundy house to find Roger in the basement clutching a Sony Handy cam in one hand and a hard plastic facemask of Ronald Reagan in the other.
"I don't think this is going to work, Roger," I said. "It's clearly Reagan."
"Just need a fraction of a second. No worries," he replied.
We shot bits and pieces for an hour or so, until he was satisfied.
"Well, I suppose I should buy you that wine," he said, as I went to leave. "There's a drive-through around the corner."
We drove into the bottle shop and stopped the car. "I'll come in with you," he said, "I know the specials here."
'Specials?' I thought. I had my eye on one of my favourite wines – not overly expensive, but not a five-dollar a bottle 'special'.
"I say! Now that's a lovely wine," Roger said, pointing to a red dot special. "How about that one? Great value."
I agreed it was good value, and that's what I received. Mind you, at his home he would have served a lovely wine. But that's Roger – the man, the producer.
My favourite story is one recounted to me by Howard Rubie.
Apparently, there was a screening of one of the 'Mission' episodes at Grundy house and all the heads of departments were present. Roger was sitting between Howard Rubie and Emanuel Matsos. In the middle of the screening someone's mobile phone rang – one of Roger's bête noirs. Very annoyed he snatched up the television remote control and put it up to his ear.
"Hello?"
Silence.
"Yes? Can you hear me?" Roger shouted again into the television remote as Howard and Emanuel watched, fascinated.
"None of these damned newfangled things work," Roger muttered, and then slammed the remote down beside him.
The picture disappeared – he'd accidentally hit the 'stop' button.
"Now the television won't work, either!" he added.
Howard picked up the offending TV remote, clicked the television back on again, and replied soothingly, "I'll get it fixed, Roger. No worries."
Roger was always one for a party. So, aged in his early seventies, he determined to remarry Irene in a lavish ceremony.
After the beautiful lunch at his house in Mackerel, a small seaplane arrived and touched down on the water. Both Roger and Irene were dressed in white. Her dress was lovely and Roger's white suit and broad brimmed planters hat made him look like Ernest Hemingway. The whole wedding party walked them down the jetty, and they climbed into the seaplane which then took off.
As we gazed upward at the plane we saw something pushed out the window, to flutter lazily down to the sea. It was Roger's white trousers. He then appeared at a passenger window and started to play the trombone.
As a footnote, Roger always told me that he'd been fit as a flea all though his life until his doctor advised him it'd be sensible to have his heart checked. He took the advice of the old sawbones, felt rotten the day after the procedure, and never felt altogether well thereafter.
He died of a heart attack only a few years later.
With Roger Mirams on set (Madrid Central Railway station!)
PALM TREES, DICKENS & SCARY FACES.
There are shows that are well written and appeal in a serious way, and there are shows that pay good money. And don't forget, the 'pulp' films often take you to exotic places. 'Tales of the South Seas' qualified as decent money as well as being exotic – lovely locations in Queensland right on the Great Barrier Reef.