Random Play by Graham Reid

Following the withdrawal of the locally made, $9 million drama series Orange Roughies, New Zealand on Air has had to reconsider what programmes it will be funding, says the organisation’s Head of Cash Disbursements David Bander. Programmes starring Australians are out, and more local talent will be seen on screen.

“Our research has shown that New Zealanders felt that Orange Roughies, with two Australian actors in lead roles, wasn’t reflecting local talent and the audience wanted to see local stars in those parts.

“With that information and after a robust internal debate we have looked at the proposals in front of us and have now favoured those which have high profile local performers or celebrities, or are exceptionally cheap.

“We feel that these programmes will not only meet the requirements of the Charter, but also allow New Zealanders to see more of themselves reflected on their television screens. And some of these programmes are brilliantly innovative and original in that Kiwi way, and others are just exceptionally cheap.

“It is an exciting time for audiences, and for the stars involved.”

Among the programmes being funded by New Zealand on Air over the next six months are the following:

You’re Hired: Reality doco series tracing the first few weeks of new Labour list MPs into Parliament as they replace retiring members. The first programme follows gay Wellington lawyer Charles Chauvel as he tries to persuade the Labour faithful at a series of meetings in South Auckland and Porirua that he is just an ordinary bloke who understands the problems of working class New Zealanders.
“It’s an on-going series obviously,” says Bander “and we think this is the new face of Kiwi comedy. Short of David Benson Pope taking up the offer to star in a spin-off from Seven Periods with Mr Gormsby, we believe this will be the real winner with a public hungry for new local comedy.”

Topp Gunn: A light-hearted entertainment show featuring the Topp Twins and Jason Gunn filmed live on a month-long tour of Northland. Programmers say the show blends the earthy humour of the Topp Twins with the suave skills of Jason Gunn who will sing, dance, tell jokes and also do some magic tricks. Filming starts at the Maungamukumuku Hall next month with a full orchestra, members of the Royal New Zealand ballet, and Sam Hunt as MC.
“It is a chance for the Topps to get back on air after a long break doing advertisements, and a showcase for the incredible and as yet untapped talent of Jason. These artists have imprinted themselves into the Kiwi psyche, for better or worse, and in the absence of a better idea we picked this one up.”

Strange Knights on K Rd: A fly-on-the-wall doco in which celebrity impersonators become Sir Edmund Hillary, Sir Wilson Whineray and Dame Susan Devoy (among others) for a night and pretend to be prostitutes on Auckland’s notorious K Rd. Hidden cameras will capture all the action.
“The pitch was so good we couldn’t turn it down. Think Stars In Their Eyes meets Target -- with a little gay action -- and you are on the right track. The legal fraternity has already expressed great interest in this one.”

X Marks the Spot: A game show which picks up on the success and sophistication of the recent spelling show and Pop Goes the Weasel. In this one celebrities such as Jaquie Brown, Te Radar, Ahmed Zaoui and Jim Hopkins play noughts and crosses before a live studio audience.
“It has all the thrills of Fight For Life but without any of the blood or aftermatch pepper spraying. The show was originally going to be called Noughts and Crosses actually, but the programmers felt this might alienate non-Christian audiences. So out of sensitivity to Hindus, Muslims, Jews, foreigners and all of the other cultural minorities we changed the title to this, which we think will also capture that whole Pirates of the Caribbean audience as well.”

Two Wheels Good, Four Wheels Bad: A dark and futuristic 28-part Orwellian drama set in Auckland in the near future when petrol has risen to $10 a litre and the population is reduced to riding bicycles after public transport options fail. Starring Mark Sainsbury in his first dramatic role as the reluctant cyclist who eventually leads the two-wheel revolution and the ride on Wellington to insist on more funding for cycle lanes.
“The idea apparently came from a Green Party conference in Takaka and one of the local companies picked it up and ran with it. There was some talk of having Peter Jackson come on board to give it a possible international market, but that seems to have come to nothing. Instead it will be made at a warehouse in Te Papa and the cast will be bringing their own bikes for authenticity.”

April Bruce: My Struggle. This moving docu-drama stars Suzy Cato as April and charts her private and public battles with fame, alopecia, childbirth, weight issues and the current lack of public interest of the former television personality.
Music by Don McGlashan and the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra. Piano solos by Michael Houston and Carl Doy.
“This will be the first in a proposed series focusing on the trials of minor New Zealand celebrities such as April, Don Brash and that woman who streaked in a bikini. We expect it to be like Taonga, but without the mana or interesting bits.”

Eat, Drink and Be Mary: Mary Lambie takes New Zealand’s top chefs -- which includes Peta Matthias and Alyson Gofton -- on the road in a light-hearted and enormously expensive culinary tour of Italy, France and Spain so the audience can watch them eat at luxury restaurants, indulge in fine dining under the Tuscan sun, and stay in expensive hotels. Recipes each week in the Listener.
“Research shows that Kiwi audiences love cooking and travel shows, and this combines the best of both, without Charlotte Dawson. Unfortunately television like this is not cheap to make so this one will be heavily sponsored. However if the audience can look past the fact that the stars will be wearing clothes covered in sponsors' logos, and a script which demands the sponsors all be mentioned at least twice in the commercial half-hour, then we think they’ll see a good fun show which will also give them ideas for their own expensive holidays in Europe.”

Pimp My Bride: Each week an unsuspecting Kiwi bride is handed over to one of the “icons” in the New Zealand fashion industry and a dress is designed specifically for her Big Day. The first the bride sees of her ensemble is on the morning of her wedding.
“Needless to say the results are hilarious. We think the public will love it. It is also a showcase for the fashion industry and when the audience sees what Trelise Cooper has designed for Jo-Dee Ngatai on the first programme -- a lovely dress made from clear plastic and painted shells with a rabbit fur scarf -- I think they’ll take to this like Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, or Air Crash Investigations.”

MEANWHILE BACK IN THE REAL WORLD:
There is more fascinating Music From Elsewhere here And tell me that fado singer ain't a star! By the way the "subscription" is free so sign on up for the weekly newsletter.

And this Sunday at the Auckland City Art Gallery at 3pm I will be speaking about travel writing, and writing about art while you travel. Or something like that.
I'll be talking about some mad (and erotic) artists, and how I broke my nose in Madrid all because of that bastard Monet.
For those who came to the recent Auckland City Library talk (or missed it), this is a different topic again and there will be no crossover of stories, anecdotes or jokes.
Hope to see you there.

So there I was in bed with the paper this morning as builders with sledgehammers and saws started to rip the final two sides off our leaky home -- for which we have to fork out about $90,000 in advance of what we hope is a generous settlement.

I was reading about the looming rates rise in Auckland, and the talk of my council substantially underwriting the Eden Park redevelopment just at the end of our street.

I said to the wife, “Looks like we might not be able to afford to live in Auckland much longer.”

And I wasn’t joking.

Aside from my already damaged bank balance with the leaky building (and ironically one of the groups we are litigating against is my council), I have considerable concerns about the upgrade of Eden Park for a few reasons -- and one of them, oddly enough, has to do with what the guitarist Ottmar Liebert (due in Auckland for a concert soon) said to me on the phone the other day.

I was interviewing him for the Herald and one of the topics that didn’t make the final cut in our long and digressive conversation was about how people listen to music these days.

He observed there is increasingly a two-tier thing going on: there are the huge stadium-filling acts like the Rolling Stones, U2 and Madonna; and there are the acts (like him) who play to smaller audiences in acoustically comfortable theatres.

He didn’t mention rowdy rock bands of the kind that roar through places like the Kings Arms, but that’s not his thing so we’ll put that aside for the moment.

What he asked, quite properly, was just how much longer will those mass appeal acts in stadiums be around?

Maybe their time is passing.

Okay, we can’t predict the future and maybe in five years or a decade there will be someone like … well . . . you know, someone who can haul in 60,000 punters.
But maybe not.

When there was the outcry to upgrade the Civic Theatre many people banged on about the work being necessary because otherwise we would continue to miss out on shows like Cats and Phantom of the Opera and all those other Andrew Lloyd Webber blockbusters.

Well, we all know what happened to that particular Golden Age of Musicals, don’t we? The Civic has hardly been cramming in thousands for sell-out shows to such things. Those days passed.

Of course the Civic was thoroughly deserving of preservation and renovation . . . but Eden Park?

I have already conceded in these postings that I am not a slavish sports follower, but I did spent one season going to every Blues game at the park, have been into a couple of corporate boxes, sat on the terraces for a few games, and so on.

Nope, I wouldn’t cross the street -- and that’s all I have to do, literally -- to see the cricket, but let’s be honest about that one: unless it’s a big one-dayer most people don’t either. They stay at home in their thousands for three days tests and provincial games.

And the rugby?

Okay, the World Cup is coming -- but it is a one-off, albeit a big one.

What those behind the Eden Park revamp have gone for is the “legacy option" I am informed by the media: that means they want to build something that will last and be there for decades.

But catering for who and what I am asking?

They have previously approached locals about getting permission for sort of family-friendly concerts and bandied about the name of Sir Paul McCartney (who declined to go to Australia in the wake of 9/11 and, at 64, I suspect won’t be embarking on another world tour which takes in this far-flung part of the planet).

I didn't object to the odd concert there, but that idea seems to have gone the way of all flesh. So we are left with the question: if ratepayers are being asked to stump up at least $60 million (which looks worse when you write it as "at least $60,000,000") then what is it for?

For a decent stadium for the World Cup certainly (although most ratepayers won’t be there to see where their dosh has gone), but what use for it afterwards?

Not concerts. Not too many cricket events I am guessing. For a few extra rugby games a season?

I dunno, from my perspective in bed this morning that just didn’t seem to add up to a particularly good bang for my buck.

I'm a simple soul. I just want someone to tell explain clearly to me what ratepayers -- many of whom do support rugby, of course -- are going to be getting after the World Cup out of, and at, this new and improved "legacy".

Some answers please?

Finally: It’s all on for my talk at the Auckland City Library tonight about travel and travel writing. It’s free, should be amusing (I know “a joke” which I will tell), and I am looking forward to it. Second floor from 6pm. See you there I hope. (But please, if you are from the Rugby Union that might not be the time or place to get in my ear about the “legacy option”.)

Slavishly following sport isn’t my thing. I like some sport -- rugby, a bit of soccer, that hotdog eating competition they had on Sky Sport the other night -- but to be honest I couldn’t name six current All Blacks. (I’m told Graham Henry can name about 57 of ‘em).

What I do like is the game itself for its own sake and I‘m not into who the players are so much. So like many good folks I will probably watch the rugby this weekend (I only realised it was happening two nights ago) and I’ll sure watch the soccer final.

Being trapped in rainy Raro meant I watched a few games there and so when I came back I naturally tuned in -- such is the life of those who work from home and have no work on -- for the last couple of nail-biters. Soccer is my second favourite sport after hotdog eating.

I don’t remember the last World Cup final, but when the commentator after the game the other dawn said that France had won in 98 I remembered with absolute clarity where I was when that one took place. I was at Dave and Ek’s beach bungalows on a beautiful and largely deserted Thai island.

Dave was American, Ek his Thai wife, and the rest of us there were German, Swiss, Canadian, English -- and a French couple who seemed to complain about every damn thing: one day it was too hot, the next too humid, the food wasn’t as good as in Provence, blah blah blah.

They were real pains and behind their backs the rest of us would laugh at them and swap stories about their new list of whinges and moans.

Then came the football.

It was a gorgeous night and I clearly remember standing on the beach at half time watching flash lightning across the ocean and listening to the long rolls of thunder.

We all sat around and drank beer, smoked joints and watched the game unfold half a world away. It was a wonderful experience, all these people from different places enjoying a common event.

After it was over I wandered back onto the deck overlooking the ocean and sipped another beer.

A Pommie guy joined me and we stood there in silence looking at the rain sweeping across a distant island in the moonlight. Magic.

After at least three minutes of silent reverie the Pommie guy leaned over to me and said, “Pity about the result, eh?”

I said I hadn’t really had a favourite side but I just enjoyed the game for its own sake.

“I don’t mean that,” he said in a slow and measured manner. “I mean, now those fuckin’ Frogs will be completely insufferable.”

The odd thing was, neither of us laughed but actually contemplated the weight of his words. I think we both went to bed dreading breakfast with the French who were, for the first time in a week, cheerful and laughing.

And speaking of dread.

I leave it over to others to comment on this stunning announcement on TV3 news by Mike McRoberts last night: “Trade experts are warning that New Zealand risks being shut out of the biggest economic event of the last 100 years, all because Kiwi companies don’t feel comfortable about China.
“In this final part of her series from Shanghai Ingrid Hipkiss explains why it’s time to be friends with The Dragon”

Over to you people. I’d love to know more about the biggest economic event since 1906, the many subtexts of the language used there -- and maybe whether we might never have known about this if Ingrid Hipkiss hadn’t been on a junket to Shanghai. But thank God she went, huh? The balloon is up.

Couple of other random plays:
Music From Elsewhere on my website is proving extremely popular so my thanks to those who have sent congratulatory e-mails (even those musicians asking for their albums to be included) and especially those who have subscribed. Some more good stuff coming up on Monday too.

If you haven’t checked it out it is here

And lastly another shameless plug: On Wednesday night I am going to speaking at the Auckland City Library on the second floor from about 6.30pm. Burly bouncers will be holding the crowd back until, at 6pm, the heaving throng will be let in for drinks and nibbles before my star turn.

The topic will be travel and travel writing, and I shall be reading some unpublished (unpublishable?) pieces, something from my “award winning” travel book Postcards From Elsewhere (someone from Whitcoulls will be there with copies which you can purchase and I will cheerfully sign), and spinning a few amusing anecdotes.

It should be fun, so if you have nothing more pressing that evening then pop along and say ‘Hi”. You can do dinner afterwards and, hopefully inspired by what I have said, plan a trip to Elsewhere over your entrees. Look forward to seeing you there.

Have a good weekend, and let’s hope if the French and the Australians win they don’t become too insufferable.

In my last intemperate post about fleeing to Rarotonga because of lousy weather here (and The Weather dominating The News) I said I wouldn’t come back and tell you about “the weather” in Raro. I lied.

But this is just to make you feel good: it rained and rained and rained. Then the rain stopped for a bit, then it rained and rained and rained.

I’m told it was quite nice here in our absence. Harummph.

Anyway it was good for the wedding day that we went for -- and then it rained and rained and . . .

You get the picture.

I watched a lot of World Cup soccer and old movies like The Harder They Come, Dog Day Afternoon, Legally Blonde . . ….

Fortunately I also got out and met some interesting people (one in the hard end of politics, another in business, and another a mate who moved back to Raro in 73 so that was a catch-up on old friends and so on).

And we hired a car for a couple of days -- yeah, I know, scooters are cheaper but the torrents of water coming down meant I wanted to get to restaurants and meetings at least partially dry and comfortable.

We drove around the island a few times (mostly just to get out of the hotel) and then on the last day I had to fill the car up to return it to the hire company. Somewhat hilariously I had to drive around and around again because there was no petrol to be found.

It seems when people heard it was going up to about $2.20 a litre there was a rush on the (few) pumps.

It was an interesting time (I know a lot more about Cook Island politics, graft and corruption than I did before, and that’s maybe a good thing), and we met some nice people.

But it’s always good to be home, especially if it’s dry. And it seems to be here.

Actually, the last day we were there the sun beamed down, but by the time we got to the airport just after noon it was lashing down again and I kinda felt sorry for the hundreds arriving for the school holidays.

The hotel we were in -- and another that I checked out -- were fully booked for the next few weeks (and no one was saying the weather was going to suddenly improve).

Still, they are there and I am now here -- and aren’t the Auckland roads quiet this week? Hmm. School holidays? Quiet roads? There could be a pattern here, right? Something to think about maybe? Again, maybe?

But now it’s back to work -- and more and more my happy work involves the Elsewhere website here
which has taken off (especially so in my absence, which I attribute to the generous mention in the Listener for this week’s programmes, in the section Websites We Love).

If you haven’t checked out the new Music From Elsewhere page (updated every Monday, so there's new stuff there right now), then have a look’n’listen. The 15 minute Fela Kuti track should keep you amused and occupied for a while.

So now I am back to work, but what the hell. The sun is shining -- which is more than Some Places I Could Mention!

(And that’s the last you’ll hear from me about “the weather”)

Right. That’s it. Too bloody cold. Had enough. We’re off. No. Like, seriously. Like, I’m just like, sooo over this whole weather thing, you know?

Actually it’s true. As of Monday dawn we’re off for a week in Rarotonga. No, it’s not about being miffed by the Sudden Cold Snap, it’s for a much-planned family wedding.

But frankly, it’s also going to be good to get away. Not from the weather itself, but from The Weather as The News.

I’m a bit old school when it comes to the weather. Unless it’s extreme I barely notice it. (It’s the weather! Whaddya gonna do about it?)

For me The Weather is either okay or it’s annoying. Either way life goes on “irregardless” (as Pauly in The Sopranos says).

But don’t you think we seem to have become somewhat obsessed by The Weather? And its ambassadors and forecasters and the lengthy radio and telly reports about “rain over the Yelps” and road closures on the Desert Road . . . .

I’m sorry, but I’m over The Weather.

Every time Toni Marsh stands side-on doing that silly shoulders back/hips thrust thing to me she just looks like she’s about to start singing “Happy Birthday Mr President“.

Anyway, in The Weather stakes I never even got the Cult of Jim Hickey either. It’s the weather. “It ain’t Leno”, as they say in the States.

And since when did The Weather need an “ambassador“? The Yemen needs an ambassador, Paraguay needs an ambassador, and Good God we need an ambassador.

But “The Weather“?

I was disappointed when mainstream media took that self-styled job designation-cum-appellative as seriously as “Weather Ambassador” Bob McDavitt obviously did.

Incidentally Bob McDavitt's site on a Google-search comes with a “standard disclaimer” which reads, “weather is a mix of pattern and chaos“

I WANT that: “Graham is a mixture of pattern and chaos . . .“

So now it‘s my turn: “Hey lookit me, I’m the Ambassador of Elsewhere and so that’s how you should refer to me from now on.” (Cue: Tui billboard)

A question from the Real World: why are weather reports on the telly so long these days?

Do towns about 50 kilometres apart -- I guess that’s about 80 minutes in Auckland traffic and about 22 minutes between the South Island hamlets I am invited to be interested in by Toni and her ilk -- need their own separate forecast?

C’mon, one degree of difference and the same wee graphic of a cloud with raindrops is surely not worth mentioning on the national news channels?

Last night on one of the two 6pm channels they had separate weather information for Auckland, the North Shore, Waitakere and Manukau.

The North Shore was one degree warmer.

If I wasn’t in a hurry today I’d drive over and go check with my thermometer. Or maybe ring my friend Sara in Birkenhead and say, “Hey, hot enough for ya?”

Yes, I know why the “news” mentions every town with an IGA and one Tui-owned or Speights-loyal tavern. It’s because we are obliged to suffer the politics of inclusion under which Everybody deserves to know they are Important.

So we bang them on the telly. I think of it as the Jason Gunn Syndrome.

But really, are some place that Important? Do they deserve to have their special-ness celebrated in a nationally broadcast weather prediction which is about as accurate as sticking your head out the window and sniffing the breeze?

But now The Weather is The News -- bloody near all the news if recent nights’ reports have been anything to go by.

Let’s face it: snow and ice on the Desert Road, Aucklanders in the rain, and Southland farms so isolated that choppers have to fly in with relief news crews is actually cheap television.

The pictures are easy. But I guess we do we get to see a lot of monosyllable folks in increasingly ridiculous woollen hats muttering something about how they can’t remember when it had ever been this bad.

And inarticulate Auckland students saying, “Yeah, it‘s like rilly cold, eh?” while filmed on a wind-whipped Queen St outside Whitcoulls (The most wind-whipped point on the main drag. So that was easy, right?)

Well, I‘m an Old Guy and I can remember when it was this bad and this cold.

It was the last time I saw a young reporter standing in the wind and rain bringing me an update on the sleet or the snow or the rain or the wind . . .

Sweetheart, just stand where its warm and don‘t get cold on my account. Tell your news editor that this is television, the pictures can tell the story. That’s why it has the “vision” bit in the name. Please don’t suffer for your art or future career in The Media on my behalf as a home viewer.

Well, yep okay. That’s all unfair. It’s cold right now. Snow. Bitter. Pictures of cars skidding on ice. Brrrrr. Whitcoulls corner. South Island.

But it’s late June. Shortest day and all that.

Winter.

Okay, some of the weather is unusual. But is it un-seasonal?

I dunno, but I don’t care to hear The Weather as The News. Never have. There is a Separate Bit on The News (same length every night actually) for The Weather.

I don’t want any more Augie Auer (Yep, he’s back folks! Heard him commenting today. Can Jim Hickey be far away?)

And I don’t want to watch any more young reporters standing in the snow -- unless it’s that Queenstown Winter-cum-Gay Festival and they are all on junkets-cum-holidays.

I don’t want any more of The Weather for its own sake.

So, wedding notwithstanding, I’m glad we are going to Rarotonga -- where it’s warm! I wonder if The Weather is The News there.

When I get back in a week or so -- and no, don’t panic, Music From Elsewhere which is here will continue in my absence -- I promise you this: I won’t tell you how wonderful and warm it was Over There.

Because it will be. Hope it doesn’t melt the ice in my cocktail too fast.

Sorry. But not really

Like Bob McDavitt, it’s part of my job description. I have to go “Elsewhere“.

I’m, like, you know, its “ambassador“.