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In the greater scheme of things, the fact that we sent our least-desirable
criminals to populate the Antipodes is one of those wrongs that will probably
never be fully righted. Although (and while it was certainly never envisaged
as some sordid quid-pro-quo retaliation effort) there's many who'd argue that
Australia has more than succeeded in getting its own back since. Its revenge?
A stream of stultifyingly awful soap productions, all clad in suburban
white-picket-fence values, boasting hackneyed scripts delivered by actors who,
whilst ornamental enough, were never going to be troubling the juries on the
acting award circuit.
Which only makes Channel 4's big drama offering for the Summer all the more
astonishing. The Secret Life Of Us is pretty extraordinary in many respects,
to be fair, but the notion of an Australian drama series heading up a British
network's schedules is nigh-on unthinkable. Add to that the fact that Channel
4 came on board as co-producers before even seeing a single frame of the show,
and it's plain that we're not gearing up for yet another drama-by-numbers
Grundy production here.
So what went right? Well, before getting to that, it's useful to know what was
going wrong in the first place. As the recent move to Channel 5 by Home & Away
demonstrates, the halcyon 80s, when Australian TV product sold the world over,
are well and truly over: as TSLOU's co-producer, John Edwards confirms, "We
have a crisis in Australian telvision drama. Basically, our networks pay less
than is necessary to make our shows and where traditionally our dramas sold
very well in foreign markets, they've been less successful in recent times.
And the deficit between what the network will pay and what it costs to make
the show, is getting wider."
A veteran of Australian TV Production, Edwards knew that in order to attract
outside interest, this show had to offer an alternative to the barbie-driven
sagas more usually associated with the country. And his starting point was to
do away with the usual rule-book and come up with something morally
ambivalent. "In your usual Australian drama, evil comes into the world, fucks
up the characters for a while, then gets expelled. That's how it works, and it
just gets repeated forever. We wanted to make the stuff of the grey - the mess
of life is where the real fun is."
Out of that idea was born TSLOU. An urban drama, led by eight disparate
characters - a sort of female-driven, twenty-something This Life, if you will.
Throw in a respectful nod to the sensibilities of Sex And the City, and the
stylishness of Queer As Folk, and you've got the picture. It's co-writer and
co-creator is Judi McCrossin, a whirlwind of a woman who keeps having to
switch the reporter's tape-recorder off in order to share key moments of
delicious (and, sadly, unprintable) indiscretion. Put it to her that her
creation is credited already with rescuing Australian TV drama, and she
accepts the accolade freely. "If it does, though," she insists, "it's not
just luck. That's the important thing to remember. I watch some Australian
shows, and I can tell you exactly where they went wrong. And generally
things go wrong with the script. I mean you can fuck up at any point, but
generally people are dying to get those scripts out so they can get on with
scheduling, as though scheduling is the first part of the process."
And indeed it was McCrossin's writing that sealed the Channel 4 deal. As
Edwards recalls, "We took our pilot script to Channel 4, who were initially
worried that this was not the kind of production that Australians have shown
themselves to be good at doing. So we said 'Trust us, we can turn it into a
two-hour pilot. If it works, then you've got to order the series very quickly,
if it doesn't you've still got a telemovie out of it. You can't lose.' Which
made it a very easy pill for them to swallow."
Channel 4's leap of faith was rewarded in full when the first episodes started
to arrive in their London office. "They needed to get some tapes duped for
various executives," chuckles Edwards, "and they found that these tapes just
kept disappearing. And they soon worked out that the tapes were being knocked
off within the office. And that created a lot of interest among the execs at
Channel 4. The fact that it was a much-pirated show was a really good sign as
far as they were concerned."
There remained one secret weapon, though, one which surprised the entire crew
when it was announced. The female lead in the show, a brittle but beautiful
character called Alex, was the last role to be cast. And with a heartwarming
optimism almost bordering on the arrogant, the production team approached
Claudia Karvan. Largely unknown over here, Karvan is one of Australia's best
known and most-loved film actresses, viewed as the talent most likely to
follow Nicole Kidman into the international arena (she has a part in the
forthcoming Star Wars II film), a woman who had on many previous occasions
made it abundantly clear that she simply did not 'do' serial TV roles. Under
any circumstances.
And what changed her mind? Again, The Script. "We got her a copy on a Friday,"
smiles Edwards, "she got back to us Monday and said this is fantastic, let's
do it. By Wednesday she'd gotten nervous and wasn't going to do it. We ended
up with a compromise offer - commit to the pilot and four further episodes.
And if you don't like it after that, we'll write you out. But she fell in love
with it very quickly. That was fantastic, getting her on board. I mean,
Claudia's a movie star."
On the St Kilda set of TSLOU, the "movie star" in question is - much like the
rest of the cast - enjoying herself far too much to worry about any previous
concerns. The well-worn onset cliché states that the crew are like "one big
happy family". The truth of the matter is, this lot are more like a bunch of
mates who've known each other since Kindergarten. Any gaps in the filming
schedule are quickly filled with a dash to the production office to catch up
on the latest completed episodes. But rather than sit about studiously patting
each other on the back for marvellous performances and so forth, they just
watch. Laughing where appropriate, crying too, in short, enjoying the
show.
As Karvan explains, TSLOU has pretty much changed her view of serial dramas.
"I've never really been involved in a long-running TV series, so I was wary.
With TV shows, because there's so many writers over a long period of time, you
tend not to have a consistency of character: you can end up doing all kinds of
things that might make for a good story, but which make no real sense." And
now? "Well with hindsight, they were all over-cautious, self-indulgent
concerns. All of which have been dispelled."
The character of Alex is - as is readily confirmed by all who know her -
pretty much based on the woman who wrote it, Judi McCrossin. "Alex is the
character I'm closest to," admits McCrossin, "but unfortunately, none of the
boys who've watched this want to root her, so that's made me look at myself a
bit. Claudia described her as 'emotionally constipated' in an interview and I
was furious! I couldn't believe it! She's just.... kind of dignified about
her emotions, I like to think."
As Alex, Karvan supplies the pilot's catalyst, when she indulges in an
ill-conceived spot of al fresco adultery with her best friend's fiance, the
consequences of that act underpinning much of the action that follows
thoughout the show's 22 episodes. Not, of course, that Claudia Karvan,
movie-star, would ever do anything so utterly unforgiveable in real life.
Would she? "Hmmm... I've done something equally incestuous," she smiles.
"Actually it was quite similar to this... Sorry, but I'm not going to go
into exact details there, but I remember telling my girlfriend about it and
she said 'I can't believe it - you just shat in your own back yard and got
away with it!'"
And in much the same way, the viewer happily forgives Alex her transgression.
"Peculiar isn't it?" frowns Karvan. "But that's the other thing that attracted
me to this series - it's not about making judgements, or portraying things in
black and white. Everyone's so deliciously flawed."
For the older viewer, those flaws are all-too clear a reminder of that
20-something, 'first taste of independence' mindset, where everything seems
crucially important, where it feels like you're always just slightly out of
your depth. At 29, Karvan identifies readily with all that, although is less
certain that we improve as we enter our 30s. "I think if you're someone who
genuinely fucks up, you're probably going to carry on doing it whatever your
age. I think fucking up just gets a lot easier to deal with as you get older.
The frequency remains as high - it just matters less."
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