Category: Triple M

  • Richard Marsland and me

    On the morning of Sunday 7 December 2008, I was sitting in my bedroom playing ‘Heroes of Might and Magic 2’ when Mum appeared at the door.

    She had just read some bad news in the paper. “Richard Marslands has died,” she said.

    Obviously, she must be mistaken. It’s ‘Marsland’ not ‘Marslands’ and besides, he’s only 32.

    So I wandered upstairs where the Sunday Mail lay open on my parents’ bed.

    Next to a large black and white photo of actress Kat Stewart with her AFI award was a smaller photo of a grinning, bearded Richard Marsland and the words “Leading radio star dies”.

    This was clearly a prank. Wow, how’d he pull that off? It looked just like a real article.

    That’s actually what I thought for a moment. Obviously that was denial – first of the five stages of grief. I was completely shocked and didn’t want to even consider the possibility it could be true. But of course, it was.

    Richard Marsland had taken his own life.

    Richard was an acquaintance. I’d like to say friend, but our friendship had barely begun. I’d never had a friend die before.

    I’d known of him for a couple of years. In April 2006, Tony Martin and Ed Kavalee began what many believe to be the funniest and therefore greatest Australian radio show of all time, ‘Get This’ on the Triple M Network. Richard joined the show a few weeks later as the panel operator after it became apparent Ed had overstated his technical skills.

    At the time I was 18 and had just joined up to Flinders University Student Radio, which broadcast Wednesday nights on community station Radio Adelaide. The consistently hilarious Get This was a huge influence in my early days mucking around on air.

    In Australian radio comedy, basically there’s Tony Martin and then there’s everyone else.

    But Get This was something else entirely. Tony, Ed and Rich with producer Nikki Hamilton-Cornwall and production wizard Matt Dower “on the pots and pans” gelled together in a way that made the show far more than the sum of its parts.

    There was a spike in the ratings every time it aired anywhere and it had probably the most devout fan base of any radio show before or since. People loved them like their best mates.

    When Richard started “on the buttons”, he rarely turned on his own mic to say anything. But a very gradual transformation took place over the weeks and months and eventually he elevated himself from silent operator to third host. Richard’s “white-anting” became a running gag.

    I did a bit of white-anting myself and figured out having a community radio show was a great excuse to talk to my comedy heroes. I interviewed Tony Martin over the phone in September 2006 and when he dropped a reference to the Get This panel operator, I had to ask him to remind me what his name was.

    It wasn’t until October 2007 shortly before Get This finished that Richard’s name was added to the show’s opening sweeper.

    By the end of the show’s two years, he had appeared in or been the subject of countless brilliant and hilarious sketches. There was the mash-up of World’s Wildest Police Videos where Richard took a stolen ‘Black Thunder’ for a joy ride.

    The many replays of his ad-lib rendition of the Vengaboys hit ‘We Like to Party’ with a few of the words from their other hit ‘We’re Going to Ibiza’.

    And Tony’s parody of Bad Company’s ‘Feel Like Makin’ Love’ but with lyrics all about the white-anting Richard.

    As I gradually discovered, there was a lot more to Marslando Calrissian.

    He grew up in Adelaide’s northern suburbs and began working at SAFM in the mid 90s as a panel operator and Black Thunder driver.

    It’s quite likely he handed me more than one icy cold can of coke back in the day. I listened to SAFM religiously and would often get the baby-sitter to drive me and my siblings all over town chasing free Kool Mints and movie tickets.

    In the early 2000s, Richard joined Adelaide TV royalty Anne Wills as co-host of ‘AM Adelaide’ on Channel 7.

    He was also a comedy writer and after moving to Melbourne, he wrote for some of the biggest shows of the era, including Rove Live, The Glass House and eventually for Shaun Micallef’s SBS comedy Newstopia.

    Like many Get This fans, I was genuinely angry when the show was axed in November 2007. It was a particularly barren time for comedy on Australian radio and television – there were fewer online options back then – and this brilliant show that was also highly rating was getting the arse. It didn’t make sense.

    By then I had finished studying and was keen on making the transition from community radio to the kind where they pay you. The late Adelaide radio legend David “Daisy” Day was helping me put a demo together.

    We were talking in his office on South Terrace one afternoon and after listening to some of my sketches, he said I reminded him of Richard. They knew each other from the SAFM days. I was instantly intrigued and once again, used the community show as an excuse to contact him.

    I still had Nikki’s number from interviewing Tony the previous year so I called her and she put me in touch with Richard. He was going to be in Adelaide for Christmas and was happy to come into the studio for an interview.

    The interview was set for 29 December 2007. On the day however, Richard called to apologise, which was how most conversations with him would start.

    He couldn’t make it to the studio and it’d have to be over the phone. I was disappointed I wasn’t going to get to meet him but it was better than nothing.

    Back then, Radio Adelaide was at 228 North Terrace. The studios were built in the late 80s and by community radio standards, they were excellent. The phone system however was much older and to this day, it’s the only time I’ve ever seen a wood panelled telephone.

    We chatted for about an hour about all sorts of things. How he got started in the biz, comedy idols, working on Get This, stories from the panel, writing for TV. It was great. Rich was a lovely guy.

    [display_podcast]

    In January 2008, Richard moved to Triple M Melbourne breakfast as the panel operator for Peter Helliar and Myf Warhurst’s new show.

    The same month I had a meeting with SAFM program director Craig Bruce. He gave me my first paid radio job as a casual panel operator. Just like Richard a decade earlier.

    I panelled the evening shows that were networked from Sydney and Melbourne, mainly The Hot 30. Occasionally Hamish & Andy.

    Even though those shows were made interstate, Adelaide still needed someone at the panel to record local traffic updates and be ready with some music just in case the feed dropped out.

    Often I’d be the only person in the old Austereo building on Greenhill Road. It was a big two storey building made of dark brown bricks, clearly designed for a much larger staff. A lot of it was empty now. It smelt like a holiday house.

    I liked wandering around and looking at all the weird pop culture memorabilia they’d accumulated since launching in 1980 as Adelaide’s first FM station.

    The walls were covered with framed CDs commemorating a sales milestone of some significance and the odd photo of a celebrity. The most prominent item on display was an autographed pair of Mick Molloy’s underpants.

    Down one of the corridors, stacked on the floor against a wall were several plaques that honoured past employees of the month circa 1998. Richard Marsland’s name was on three of them. Awesome.

    In July 2008 I went to Melbourne for a few days with my then girlfriend Jemima. I emailed Richard and asked if he wanted to get lunch while I was in town. He said sure and we met in front of Myer in Bourke Street Mall.

    The first thing he did after we shook hands was apologise for not shaving.

    We found a café down a side street, grabbed a table and talked non-stop for more than 2 hours in minute detail about radio, TV, comedy, writing, panelling and Get This. Jemima understandably got bored about half way through and left us nerds to continue on our own.

    Richard told me how he made his famous Warwick Capper soundboard prank calls in 2001 using actual tape cartridges. Hearing those re-aired on Get This inspired me to make some myself using clips of Dutch-American MMA fighter Bas Rutten. I did it with software though. Much easier.

    I gave him a white T-shirt with iron-on text that read: “David M. Green gave me this shirt.”

    He was extremely generous with his time. He even read a couple of scripts I brought along and gave me some pointers. He paid for lunch too. And he left a nice tip.

    Boy I really wish I recorded that conversation. I’ve forgotten most of it now. But a couple of bits of advice stuck with me.

    He said if you’ve got an idea but you’re having trouble pitching it to the powers at be, sometimes it’s easier to just make it yourself anyway and show them the finished product so they don’t have to use their imagination. That’s easier to do with a radio sketch than a feature film, but still good advice.

    And with regard to following in his footsteps and forging a career as a panel operator and comedian, he said “just enjoy it”.

    We walked back out onto Bourke Street and parted ways near the statues of three thin people. We shook hands three times while exchanging drawn out goodbyes. I had a flight to catch. Richard had to get home and write a sketch about Guitar Hero.

    That was the one and only time I saw him in person.

    A couple of weeks later, I lost my job at SAFM. They replaced the evening panel operators with automation. This was during the period after they’d scrapped the Black Thunders but before they brought them back so there weren’t any other entry level positions for me.

    At the time I was also making sketches for ABC Radio, but thanks to a falling out with a friend, that quickly fell through as well and I was back to square one. I really felt like the rug had been pulled from under me. It was one of the lowest points of my life. In retrospect, I think of it as my quarter life crisis.

    I emailed Richard and told him all about it. He sent a really nice reply.

    “I’m of the opinion that you haven’t really had a career in the Australian media if you haven’t been sacked due to no fault of your own,” he wrote.

    “Look at the long list of talents who have been told to hit the bricks – from Tony to Shaun to Judith to Mick: it’s insane and it makes no sense BUT it does happen and the best thing to do is take it on the chin and keep coming at them.”

    “It’s a funny industry full of revolving doors, so eventually one will open for you, I guarantee it. You just have to keep positive, and stay persistent. Luck is hard work meeting opportunity.”

    “So – don’t let it get you down too much, okay? I won’t lie – I know it sucks, but everything will be DMG before you know it. You just have to get ready.”

    “Speak soon, give me a call anytime! Richard.”

    Soon after that I decided I was going to move to Melbourne.

    Three and a half months later, Richard was gone. Even some of the people closest to him had no idea he suffered from depression.

    His funeral was held at St Ignatius Church in Norwood. It was the first time I’d been to a funeral for someone under the age of about 70 and it was packed.

    A station wagon was parked outside with two people in T-shirts reading “Generic Radio Station” giving out pretty warm icy cold cans of coke and Farmer’s Union Iced Coffee.

    For the previous two weeks I felt shock more than anything. I felt like crying but I didn’t. Then they played ‘The Rainbow Connection’ from The Muppet Movie and I saw Richard’s coffin being carried into the church with Tony as one of the pallbearers. That did it.

    There was laughter too of course. Hearing Richard’s youthful escapades with friends and the pranks he used to pull on his sisters, I couldn’t help but smile.

    Tony Martin delivered a warm tribute. He leaned into the mic and opened with the words: “Normally this is where Richard would be checking the levels”.

    “Richard was on the verge of moving into an area where few people in comedy can move; a kind of comedy where he presented a version of himself which was very vulnerable and very real,” he said.

    “He was a man who was really serious about his work; we have lost that someone on radio, a beautiful person that everyone loved.”

    During the eulogy, I also learned Richard’s first job was a pizza delivery driver. The following week, I saw Brighton Pizza Haven was looking for drivers, so I applied and became one myself.

    I received several emails from Richard’s friends, family, former co-workers and fans – some now living on the other side of the world – who had discovered the phone interview. All of them had their own stories about Richard’s warmth and generosity.

    About six months later, my Radio Adelaide friends and I entered a competition called Semi-Pro Radio. We made the final selection and got to make a one off show on the Triple M network.

    We pre-recorded it at Triple M Adelaide – which was downstairs from SAFM – and managed to sneak upstairs to check out the ‘Richard Marsland Room’ they’d built up there.

    It was more of a nook, but there was a large mural on the wall with a stream of consciousness in scrawling text with references to iced coffee and the word ‘sorry’ about five times in a row. Unmistakably Richard.

    Nothing came of that contest, but I made the move to Melbourne and kept doing community radio and community television too.

    In 2011, I got my second job in radio as a panel operator at Melbourne’s new AM talk station MTR.

    I signed the lease on my first apartment on 29 February 2012 so I could live closer to the studios. Two days later the station went into administration and everyone was sacked.

    Again, Richard’s words of encouragement in that final email helped me through the tough time. As he said, it happens.

    Just a few months later I got another radio job at Crocmedia and in a weird call back to Get This, ended up spending five years panelling AFL broadcasts with Rex Hunt. “How good is this?”

    In 2014 I landed my dream job as a comedy writer for ‘Shaun Micallef’s Mad as Hell’ on ABC TV. I’ve now been there for seven seasons. Coincidentally, Nikki Hamilton-Cornwall is the locations and casting producer. Everyone I’ve met who worked with Richard remembers him fondly.

    I think about Richard a lot. Especially around this time of year.

    There have been many times over the last decade where I would have loved to get his take on some of the more advanced aspects of panelling or writing as I’ve encountered them.

    And I wonder what he would be doing now. All the gags he didn’t get to write and the laughs he never heard. I don’t think he ever really knew how much people loved him.

    Radio comedy combines the most intimate genre on the most intimate medium.

    When I’m back in Adelaide driving around, random bits of Get This pop into my head. It happens subconsciously when I just happen to be where I was when I heard them the first time and I remember how much I laughed.

    Richard’s legacy lives on. ‘Capril’ started as a joke on Get This. It now takes places every April with people wearing capes during everyday activities to promote awareness of mental health and raise money for beyondblue.

    The hashtag #ImRichard routinely trends on Twitter with fans tweeting various obscure Get This references. It’s like the show never ended.

    In fact, you can find all the episodes online with the music and ads cut out. If I had to choose only one radio show to listen to for the rest of my life, that’d be the one.

    Others knew him much better than I did. But for me, Richard was a mentor and inspiration.

    He made me laugh. He showed me someone from Adelaide can achieve great things in the entertainment industry. He helped lift me out of one of the lowest points in my life.

    Even 10 years on, he’s still with me and everyone he touched because in true Richard Marsland style, he’s white-anted into our lives.

    – DMG

  • Marslando Calrissian: 2 years on…

    Today marks two years since the untimely passing of Radio’s Richard Marsland.

    I had a bit of a bad week last week, and I found myself looking over some old emails from another difficult period in my life.

    In August 2008 I was dropped from my job as a casual panel-operator at SAFM, dropped from making regular guest appearances on 891 ABC Adelaide’s “The Evening Show with Peter Goers” and had a falling out with one of my best friends. Suddenly my life went from heading in the right direction to being thrown into complete uncertainty.

    After I lost the SAFM job I emailed Richard (a former SAFM employee), telling him what happened and asking for some advice. I figured this is a good time to make this email public. It’s good advice, after all… So here it is:

    Sun, 24 Aug 2008 20:13:07
    Re: SAFM no more

    Oh no David, I’m so sorry – I just read this email … dang – sorry mate! I don’t check this all the time. What horrible news! But you know what? I had exactly the same thing happen to me in exactly the same building when I was pretty much your age. And then I came back like three months later. I’m of the opinion that you haven’t really had a career in the Australian media if you haven’t been sacked due to no fault of your own. Look at the long list of talents who have been told to hit the bricks – from Tony to Shaun to Judith to Mick: it’s insane and it makes no sense BUT it does happen and the best thing to do is take it on the chin and keep coming at them. What you must remember is that they might take away your job, but guess what? You can still write, You can still perform. You still can do it, you know? It’s like a trench digger being fired – he doesn’t have a job but he still has the skills to get another. So it will happen. It’s not a case of if, but when.

    Craig [Bruce] is a straight shooter and I’m sure he’d love to have you if they could afford it, they’re cutting costs everywhere at the moment. It seems terrible right now I’m sure, but it’s merely a new start for you. Like Craig said, I’d look at it as an opportunity to go somewheres different and ply your trade – there are now a lot more places in Adelaide to look, Nova for example. Easier said than done, I know. But I’d go for the ABC thing (if it’s not too late), and I would keep throwing everything into the Peter Goers show. Call around, ask to speak to PDs and tell them your situation and work history – SAFM always looks great on a CV … You never know what’s around the corner. And keep up your website!

    And I promise I’ll keep an ear out for anything that might pop up. It’s a funny industry full of revolving doors, so eventually one will open for you, I guarantee it. You just have to keep positive, and stay persistent. Luck is hard work meeting opportunity.

    So – don’t let it get you down too much, okay? I won’t lie – I know it sucks, but everything will be DMG before you know it. You just have to get ready.

    Speak soon, give me a call anytime!
    Richard

    That was the last contact I had from Richard. He died three and a half months later. Although he did say “give me a call anytime”, I didn’t, because I didn’t want to bug him.

    The above is another example of the genuine character of The Late Richard Marsland. Such a nice guy, and such personal, relevant advice.

    It’s interesting looking back on that time. “Everything will be DMG before you know it”. It certainly didn’t seem like that then. But things did get better. And of course, moving to Melbourne definitely made a difference.

    I miss “Get This” on Triple M very much. Although, some fantastic news I just learned yesterday: Tony Martin and Ed Kavalee will be teaming up again next year, this time on TV for “The Joy of Sets”, a new light entertainment show on Channel Nine (If you can believe that?). I’m sure Richard will be there in spirit.

    I’m actually in Adelaide as I write this, and I kid you not, I’m sipping a Farmers Union Iced Coffee. I never used to like them until this year.

    Rich, this one’s for you.

    Kind regards,
    David M. Green

  • Sittin’: Another Interview with Shaun Micallef (Complete Version)

    Greetings,

    After transcribing my 6,000+ word interview with Mr Shaun Micallef, and aware my word limit for Catalyst is a mere 1,200 words, I’ve decided for the greater good to put the complete interview online for all to enjoy. Rest assured a ‘best of’ will appear in RMIT’s Catalyst Magazine in a month or so, but for those who can’t wait, here it is… 

    Sittin’: Another Interview with Shaun Micallef
    By David M. Green

    Serious, reflective, genuinely funny and immensely intelligent: My impression of TV’s Shaun Micallef after 50 minutes of his time, sitting in Druid’s Cafe on Swanston Street, March 31 2010. It had been four years since I first interviewed him, via phone, back on Radio Adelaide 101.5FM. So, I thought it was high time I once again exploited my position as an amateur media participant and caught up with him, just days after he’d received his first Gold Logie nomination.

    David – Firstly, congratulations. How do you feel receiving this nomination now after having worked in TV for almost 20 years?

    Shaun – Well nothing I know about the world makes sense any more. I worry. It’s a popular award, which suggests I’m doing something wrong. I’m incredibly suspicious. I assume some error’s been made in the tabulation process.

    Do you feel you’re doing your best work now, on Talkin’ Bout Your Generation?

    I was trying to think the other day about the best way to describe things and I think the show I enjoyed doing the most was probably The Micallef Programme. I think the best show in terms of comedy is probably Newstopia. I quite enjoyed that show and I’d  happily make more. I think the most fun I’m having is probably Generation, so all three of those things are good things, there’s just different emphasis.

    What do you think of the state of TV in Australia at the moment?

    Well, I don’t really watch it, to be perfectly honest with you. I watch our show on Sundays. I watch the SBS News. I might watch the films on cable. I honestly don’t watch too much at all. I’ve missed the last ten years, really.

    What was the last show you got into?

    Frasier probably. That was the only one I’d seek out and that’d be it. I missed The Office. I missed Extras. I had to see it because I had to interview Ricky Gervais, so I watched the first series of Extras. I never actually saw The Office until somebody gave me a DVD of the American one with Steve Carell. I missed everything else. So anything kinda post-2000 I take it on peoples’ word about it, you know. Tony Martin’s forever recommending things, and he watches a lot. He gives me these DVDs and I go, ‘Yeah thanks, that’s great’ and I fully intend to look at them but I don’t have time to watch TV. It’s too much, too much to take in. But I have been catching up on some old films, Anthony Mann westerns and that sort of stuff, the work of James Stewart, so I’m actually going back in time and looking at work from the 1940s now. I live in the past.

    What’s your favourite Jimmy Stewart film?

    It’s a Wonderful Life. Anything from 1946 on you’ll see a mature Jimmy Stewart. Even in those weird westerns that he did, very, very strong actor. I know Jim Carrey’s a fan of his and I think fancies himself, in his dramatic roles, as a bit of a Jimmy Stewart. Can’t touch him really.

    You do a good impression of Jimmy Stewart as well.

    Yeah I like Jimmy Stewart. I can do impressions of people I like.

    Do you find it’s easier to do an impression of someone if you’re actually doing an impression of someone else doing an impression?

    Yeah, because someone cracks the code, I see what you mean. When I first saw Kevin Spacey doing Christopher Walken I thought, ‘Ah ok he’s doing that, those three things’ and then someone showed me a tape of Kevin Pollak doing Christopher Walken. He also does a very good Captain Kirk… Anyway, so I was watching him and I noticed, ‘Oh yeah, he does those other two things, that’s interesting.’ I’m not an impressionist, so I don’t go around thinking, ‘How do I crack that code?’ So for Walken, if I just do those four things, that’d sound like him… but it is easier when someone says, ‘Look, here’s the map.’ I can do a few though. I can do Jimmy Stewart but everyone in the world does Jimmy Stewart. Same with Christopher Walken. Everyone does Christopher Walken.

    I think you were the first to sing David Bowie (as Walken)?

    Yeah, I ploughed a pioneer trail there. Now everyone’s doing it.

    That was on your comedy album that came out recently (His Generation). I’m not really a fan of musical comedy that much but I really loved ‘Dalgetty’s Fruit Wholesalers.’

    Oh yeah, Gary McCaffrie wrote that. He wrote that for Newstopia. I wrote a little, I actually improvised a little conversation that preceded it, but yeah that was Gary’s. The chappy who produced the album, who’s the musical guy, he does all the music for the various shows we’ve done, Yuri Worontschak, it was his idea. He said, ‘We’ve got all this stuff recorded over the years, over the last 15 years,’ music beds and that sort of stuff that were just sitting in his computer, which were only ever used once, ‘Why don’t we do something with it?’ So we did, we sat aside and I found some old material that I hadn’t used for Newstopia, even some old stuff from The Micallef Programme, and just revisited it, shifted it and shaped it. Then with the success of Generation, the distributors, Shock, who did The Micallef Programme DVDs said, ‘Have you got anything for this Christmas?’ or whatever it was and I said, ‘Well, we’ve been mucking around on this CD for a while.’ Does anyone buy comedy CDs any more? Apparently not. Josh Thomas was telling me, ‘I’ve got an album in the top ten on iTunes,’ and I said, ‘Ah okay that’s great, can I get a copy of it?’ He says, ‘Ah, no, no it doesn’t exist, in any real sense. It hasn’t got a cover or anything. It’s just something that exists in the cyber world.’ So I should have cut down on my overheads and just not bothered having a real thing. So yeah, I think that’s his stand-up but I don’t do stand-up so I have to go to the effort of actually making something.

    Yeah, you don’t really do stand-up. Did you ever try it?

    Yeah, when I was writing for Jimeoin I did stuff at the Star & Garter Hotel in South Melbourne. Jim and Bob Franklin used to try their stuff out at the Star & Garter a couple of days before they did the show just to see how it went with the audience. Glen Robbins would do ten minutes and I was there every week anyway so I thought I’d just try my hand at it.

    Didn’t care for it though? Or the audience didn’t care for it?

    No, no it was fine, it went down all right. But again, it was a send-up of a stand-up act. It wasn’t really a stand-up act. Often the joke was me telling a joke badly so it was a meta-stand-up act. It was a joke about a joke, really, and that doesn’t sustain. I mean, it was fun but I think it would be ultimately bamboozling to anybody outside the scene. If you did it for real they’d boo you off the stage.

    It’s interesting how you’re one of the most respected comedians in the country and you never really did stand-up, and there are all these stand-up comedians who just love you.

    I don’t tell jokes! No, I can’t do it. I find it an interesting form and I love old joke-tellers and I love that sort of up-front entertaining. A lot of my friends are stand-ups and that’s sort of the go. It’s a fairly rough business. But I get a good deal of pleasure out of things not working, you know, I don’t really care enough about the response to be driven to do it, I suspect. It’s an intellectual thing. I think a live audience is really important, that’s why I’m doing this show with Stephen Curry, to tap back into that. Because my roots are review, I have a more actorly approach to it I guess, in that I’m playing some version of myself or some other character who is not necessarily aware that they’re getting laughs so I have to pretend that I didn’t hear the laugh whereas a stand-up can of course enjoy the laughter that he or she creates. It’s interesting. We do a little bit of direct address in this thing (Good Evening: The sketches of Peter Cook & Dudley Moore). It’ s a bit like what I’m doing as a presenter on TV, like with Generation, it’s sort of half for the audience for information and it’s half for the people who are sick and tired of hearing that sort of presentation and want a few jokes on it. Gary (McCaffrie) is not writing for Generation but he’s very good, as am I, I think in presenting that cliché-ridden crap that you get on TV and just subverting it slightly, just making people think about it, which was our undoing on Channel Nine I think because it was the perfect station to do a show like The Tonight Show on it but people wanted a proper show without any derailments in the way. So they were going, ‘Okay it looks like a tonight show, smells like a tonight show and wait… what? We’re seeing a chicken parmigiana? What?’ So I think it was just a bit bamboozling.

    More blackface possibly?

    Yeah maybe we should have gone down that route… Hey I’ve done blackface myself in a different sort of way.

    Well you know, they’ve dragged Daryl Somers back, maybe in a few more years they’ll start doing through the other Channel Nine shows they axed?

    You reckon? Yeah I don’t know I don’t think I’ll ever be retro chic, I suspect, for Channel Nine. Daryl had a good 20 years, 30 years, I can’t remember… Whatever it is. 13 weeks. You can hardly celebrate that. There are certain stations that I think I shouldn’t be on and I think probably Nine is one of them.

    You’ve been on all of them now.

    I have! Yeah finally, I think I lucked out with Channel Ten. They’ve seemed to warm to me.

    When you started Micallef Tonight did you know that it was going to be axed?

    Not when I started it. It was always two years. It was going to be a two-year plan, that’s what we’d agreed and they agreed, ‘Yes we need to give it life, we need to give it room to grow and turn into what it is.’ I said, ‘Look, it’s going to be really over-written when we start it but then gradually, once we find our feet, we’ll loosen up a little bit.’ I think we would have done that. As I recall Conan O’Brien took about four years to relax into the role and that was on every night of the week. But unfortunately at that point, 2003, the landscape wasn’t sufficiently comfortable with itself to allow you to find your feet. That’s the trouble with Australian TV. Unless you do it within two weeks or three weeks they just go, ‘That’s not going to work.’

    Do you think it would be any different if you were doing it now in 2010?

    I don’t know, I think it’s even harder. What was the show they took off Channel Seven after two weeks?

    The White Room.

    Yeah, yeah, you know. Maybe it’s no different. Let Loose Live was two weeks and from memory in the year I was doing the tonight show there was a show on Seven called Chatroom that lasted about two weeks and Amanda (Keller) was in it and Wendy Harmer was in it. They put Greeks on the Roof on as a replacement. That ran a series. But maybe that’s more to do with Seven because all those instances are Channel Seven pulling stuff off. But you know, they’ve got to pay the bills. I don’t blame them. You know, if it doesn’t work, if it doesn’t draw in sufficient audience to justify what they’re charging for the ads that’s just a commercial decision and they’ve got to replace it. But you know, you’ve got to ask, ‘Well, what did you expect?’ If you’re going to grow the thing somewhere and then put it on primetime… Maybe that’ll happen with digital. Maybe that’s the way. Now that they’ve actually just, all they’ve done is tripled the shelf space of their product. They’re not actually inventing any new stuff. They’re just splitting their advertising dollar. Instead of 800,000 people watching the station they’vegot 600,000 and 200,000 people watching the digital station. It’s the same audience. They might steal a few from somewhere else but it’s basically the same. So what do they do? They charge, you know, two fifths for that advertising. I don’t know, I’m not an executive producer at a network so I don’t know the answer. It just seems to me the pie is always the same size and it’s just the slices are getting thinner. I don’t know what the answer is. But I think you haveto do less now to stay on air. I think, you know, 700,000 people watching a show is a million people five years ago, because there are fewer and fewer people watching TV and more and more people watching YouTube or watching live streaming or making their own stuff or listening to podcasts or watching vodcasts, vidcasts, whatever they’re called. A whole lot of stuff, which is good. About time they had some competition.

    Have you had a successful commercial show before Talkin’ Bout Your Generation?

    Oh well I guess Full Frontal was successful. That wasn’t my show but I was in it. I produced. My first year I was writing and I produced in the second half of that year and gave myself an on-screen job as a result of that. Then the next year they said, ‘No we don’t want you producing. Just be in it.’ So I was happy to do that. That won Logies all the time. It wasn’t great but it was great apprenticeship and people liked it. People remember it far more fondly that they did at the time. We used to get terrible reviews, but now people go, ‘Ah, the glory days! Fast Forward and Full Frontal. Why don’t we make shows like that anymore?’ It’s because they had a good budget, which we used to built sets…

    And smash them down.

    We used to smash them down, you know. They don’t build sets for sketch comedy any more. They just don’t. They go and shoot it out in the real world so the range of stuff you can do, the range of approaches or attitudes of the realities of your characters, it’s all a bit too real. You ever watch Night at the Opera? The Marx Brothers film?

    I’ve taped it but I haven’t watched it yet.

    There’s a scene where Harpo is climbing up the outside of a ship and it’s an MGM film, the lighting is really real. The lighting it just a bit too harsh for these not terribly real characters. They’re much more at home in the studio than they are in the real world sometimes. You see, you’ve got to be careful how you present your comedy. If you say, ‘Oh we’ll just shoot it out in the street’ then you can’t shoot Milo Kerrigan in the real world. It’s not going to work. It needs to be a world with flimsy walls that can fall over.

    And heads that fly around the room!

    Yeah, that sort of stuff. Comedy climate. You can’t explain that to anybody. Ultimately it’s a budget consideration, because The Micallef Programme was the last sketch show that had a decent budget where you could hire a helicopter and film something that lasted four seconds. You couldn’t do that now, couldn’t justify it.

    The Micallef Programme couldn’t be made today?

    No, couldn’t do it today. When that finished that was the last time that anybody spent any money on a sketch comedy show.

    Really?

    Absolutely. That’s historical fact. That had a budget of over a million dollars for the series. I reckon each episode was about $300,000 so it would have been well over a million.

    Was there ever a temptation to embezzle that money?

    I think someone embezzled it, but not me. Production comedy obviously got a reasonable hunk of that as a profit but, you know, I work very cheap, I don’t know any better. Oh, I’ll just do it for this. I’ll just produce it for nothing and spend all the money on props and scenery and revolving sets and stuff that a sensible producer wouldn’t spend it on.

    I enjoyed your New Year’s Eve Special. How did that come about?

    Oh thank you. Actually I wanted a Christmas Special and then Granada, who produced Talkin’ Bout Your Generation, did it and the only other holiday left was New Year ’s Eve. I wasn’t entirely happy with it because I couldn’t hang around and do the edit on it. I had to go off for rehearsals for the stage show (Good Evening) because we were doing it in Sydney. I sat through one screening of it and I left them a bunch of notes basically and then went to Sydney and had to do it via email. Usually I sit in the edit suite and tighten it up. The other thing was it was supposed to be 90 minutes and I recorded extra material so we could cut it really tight, but they were so happy with the recording they said, ‘Oh, let’s make it two hours.’ So that extra half hour buffer I’d built into it ended up being in the show so it was a little looser than I’d want. It was a bit flabby. And two hours is too hard to sustain in comedy. But it was a sneaky pilot to see whether they were interested in doing a sort of sketch/variety show, which they ARE interested in so we’ll be doing that next year.

    Is that where you want to get back into?

    I want to do sketch but sketch is very hard to do now because of budgets. You go to the ABC with a sketch show and they’ll say it’s a light entertainment programme so the budget they offer is sufficient to make Spicks and Specks but it’s not sufficient really to make a sketch show.

    The ABC doesn’t have a comedy department either do they?

    No and they tend to regard sketch as non-narrative when it’s really multi-narrative, if anything, so it sort of needs a drama budget. So no they don’t have a comedy department, but I think they’re going to get one, so maybe they’ll change that. It’s a good training ground for comedy, I think, sketch.

    Is there a Logie award this year for most outstanding comedy programme?

    No, I supposed that’s indicative of that thing. They’ve combined it into light entertainment. You’ve got Generation for example, competing with Wilfred, bizarrely. So you’ve got a sitcom competing with a quiz show. That just doesn’t make sense to me. Odd. I don’t know why they got rid of it. They used to have one because The Micallef Programme won that one.

    Did you watch John Safran’s Race Relations?

    I did. I saw the first episode. I’ll be honest with ya, I didn’t get to see the others because I think we were shooting. It was on Wednesdays and we were shooting.

    What did you think of that?

    Um… well it was very brave of him. Uh… it reminded me, in a good way… he’s an agent provocateur. He’s a provocative presenter of ideas, so in that regard he’s like a punk Michael Moore in a way.

    Did you watch a lot more television, say 20 years ago?

    I watched a lot more when I wasn’t doing it, yeah I did. I sort of see the joins now, see the strings, see how it works and it’s not quite as interesting. I just don’t have time really. I’d rather spend time with the kids. We watch a lot of old shit. I watch Laurel and Hardy with them and I’ve just started introducing them to Buster Keaton. The good stuff.

    How old are your kids now?

    Twelve, nine and seven. Three boys.

    Are they noticing you on the TV? Well, they’ve probably already done that, I imagine.

    Well Generation and Thank God You’re Here are the only times they’ve really seen me on television because everything else is either before they were born or too late. They don’t watch the DVDs that we’ve got lying around. They just go on YouTube and watch a bit of Milo. They think that’s pretty funny. So that’s five years of my life now condensed to a two and a half minute, postage-sized screen and they go, ‘Ah that’s good, that’s what Dad did before we were born.’

    Do you ever do the Milo Kerrigan character around the house?

    Oh no no! The kids do it sometimes but it’s just so annoying when they do it…

    And breaking things?

    No, just the voice. They’d just be obsessed with it for a while, thinking it was very funny. Now they’ve grown out of it. Took them about six months. They’re over it now.

    That character I think is unique because I can’t think of any other comedian in Australia who’s done a character you could compare him to.

    Well Australian comics are very keen on characters. They love doing characters.

    But not a mentally ill ex-boxer who smashes things!

    No, that’s true, no one as violent as that, I suppose. I think Lano and Woodley did some wonderful stuff. They’re the only ones I ever look at it. Maybe earlier Los Trio Ringbarkus, which would be before your time. It was Neil Gladwin and Steve Kearney and they were very physical and Lano and Woodley are very physical but there’s not too many others who are very physical. Frank I think is just a genius and actually Glen Nicholas, the way he mimes, he’s a genius too. Those two are very different but very good physically and I can’t think of anyone else who really does it here. It doesn’t seem to have been a tradition in Australia for some reason.

    Physical comedy?

    Not physical comedy, no. Not at all. It’s either stand-up or it’s, you know, well-drawn characters like Humphries does.

    Last year I saw you on 9AM with Dave & Kim where Martin Short was a guest host and it was just a magic TV moment. I could tell you were quite obviously thrilled to be there.

    Yeah, yeah I was, I was. It was quite a thrill to meet him and he did a show here and he asked me to help out. He does his Jiminy Glickcharacter at the end and interviews someone. I think Rove did it one night and I did it another night, so I got to come on and ad-lib with him, which was fantastic. That was great. Obviously he had a bit of his prepared shtick, so he does all that. But then I can contribute, I was playing straight to him. I knew what he wanted, what he needed, so I’d throw him a few things and we went off on a bit of a riff on that. So that was a bit of a thrill. I think the kids and I had just seen Santa Clause 3 where he plays the evil guy, Jack Frost, and when he rung up and thanked me I held it up to the kids, said listen to this: ‘Hi Shaun it’s Marty Short here…’ Kids were very impressed. And that’s funny because he’s a product of the same sort of influences that I am and he must be 60, I think. He loves physical stuff, he’s very broad, loves Jerry Lewis, you know that sort of stuff. And because he’s Canadian like Jim Carrey, he’s willing to do anything to get accepted by an American audience. You’ll find the Canadians will really exert themselves to get the laughs.

    Mike Myers?

    Yeah, Mike Myers, John Candy, all that bunch. Dan Aykroyd.

    On the TV show, I think it was quite obvious as well that you and Martin Short were operating a completely different level to Kim.

    Yeah, David wasn’t there but Martin was replacing David for that show. I remember I said to Martin, ‘They call them Stobey Poles in Adelaide.’ And she says, ‘Oh I thought that was a cigar?’ and Marty and I both at the same time said, ‘No, no that’s a stogie.’ Like, we know. And we were talking about shtook, shtick and tookus…

    Another funny moment, I remember you were talking about voices and Kim said, ‘Can you do the thing where you drink water?’ And you said, ‘Yeah Martin! Can you drink water?’

    (laughs) Yeah, Marty knew.

    Can I ask you about Richard Marsland, because you worked with him on Newstopia? (Comedy writer and Melbourne radio personality Richard Marsland committed suicide in December 2008 at the age of 32)

    Yeah, well I knew Richard before Newstopia because he worked with Tony and he was a bit of a comedy nerd, like us, that we all are, who can talk for hours. Did you know him?

    Yeah, I did. I interviewed him once and came to Melbourne and had lunch with him once. Because I was a panel-operator at SAFM, and he used to do that as well, I was becoming friends with him, but I was more of an acquaintance.

    He was a lovely guy and he worked with Tony and Ed for that two year period and that’s when I got to know him. I wouldn’t say I knew him very well but I knew him enough to rate him as a comedy creator and a writer and uh, in between his other commitments, he seemed to be writing for a lot of other shows that we didn’t even know about. He seemed to be doing a lot of work for other people as well and he’d still come in and give us a couple of mornings a week and uh, quite chameleon in terms of what styles he could do, I think. I sense there was some frustration in terms of getting to do his own stuff. I think he probably would have loved to have his own, you know, machine. I think that he was far too… he was far too busy helping everybody else. He was very generous, generous with his time and I think you would have found him too.

    Did you ever suspect that he was depressed?

    No, no I didn’t know him well enough to… you know, things sort of make sense in retrospect, I think. How can anybody be that apologetic about being on time for something? He would always be amazingly apologetic when he’d give you the material. You know, he’d be talking it down as he gave it to you, which in the absence of what happened is charming and it’s funny and it’s Richard but after what happened you go, ‘Ah, well that’s a sign that maybe some of us should have been able to interpret.’ You know, that’s somebody who’s worried about letting you down, and if you do that to everybody, if you worry constantly about letting everybody down, I mean I didn’t know how many people he was writing material for but imagine doing that five, six times a day. If you were worried, if you were genuinely worried about whether you were coming up, whether you were reaching the mark where you want to reach, it’s gotta wear you down, unless you’re getting endorsement from everybody. I don’t pretend to know him or know what it was or what slow trigger it was but it… it was very, very sad.

    Did you choose the writing staff for Newstopia?

    Yep, yeah… A long time ago I learnt that I’d never have a writing staff that was put together by anyone but me. And usually I don’t actually think of them as writers, you know, we’re all mucking together. I’ll sit in there and I’ll be working in there and because I’m a writer first and foremost, I get it, you know. If I was a comic who relied on writers it’d be a different relationship, but Michael Ward and Gary McCaffrie, we share the co-creator role for Newstopia. We are equal partners and I always look at that, whenever it’s one of my shows the writers will always have a producer responsibility for it. They own it. They are the producers, they can say in how it’s cut. Michael Ward wrote the sketch where I dressed up as the Dalai Llama, don’t know if you’ve seen that one?

    Yeah, excellent impression.

    Yeah, he wrote it and I said, ‘What do you think of that, I added some stuff?’ I put some obscure Scorsese references there because he did Scorsese Casino and I threw in some Mean Streets or something like that. Johnny Boy. He liked it, made some suggestions about cuts, that’s great. Same when Gary comes in and looks at it and says, ‘Well that’s a bit long’ or whatever. Um, so yeah the creative process is not just limited to an assembly line, where you do your writing and that’s it, that’s your responsibility. Richard as well, you value his opinion. You say, ‘What do you think of that? Is that too slow? Is that too many beats?’ And we all know the same rhythm, and the person who writes it should be the person who signs off on it. That’s the tradition in America. All the writers for sitcoms become the producers for that episode. But over here writers are regarded as interchangeable, you know, you can be the greatest sketch writer in the world like Gary McCaffrie and they’ll see you the same as some shit-kicker who shouldn’t be writing advertising copy. You know, because there’s people who can’t do it. There’s just people who are better. A lot of TV people just can’t see the difference, ‘Oh, you write. You’re a writer. You write jokes.’ That’s not quite right. That’s where you get into trouble I think.

    Do you think that’s something more common to Australia just because our television industry is a bit more… infant?

    Yeah there’s not enough, that’s right. A. There’s not the audience to sustain that niche programming, you know, if we had the audience that they have in America then you can make a living out of being very strange and doing a lot of bizarre things. There’s a comic called Sam Simmons, who I think is brilliant. He’s the next big thing as far as I’m concerned.

    I heard you on Triple J with him.

    Yeah, he’s great. I rate him very, very highly. Very original thinker. Nice guy too.

    I remember reading an article about Sam Simmons once and he said you are his biggest influence, but he also said he hates Monty Python.

    Does he? Ah okay (laughs). He probably hates the way it’s aped, probably. It’s hard to watch Python now without the hype of its own reputation hanging over it. So if you’d never seen it before and you didn’t know anything about it and you watch it, it does look pretty crappy. It’s crappy TV. And there are a lot of misses in there. People who love it will forgive it. And also if you’ve been told constantly how hilarious it is and then you turn it on, you’re going to be sitting on your hands anyway when you watch it.

    Do you feel the same way about Peter Cook and Dudley Moore?

    What, that I hate them?

    (laughs) No, no that their reputation precedes them. They have a huge shadow.

    Um, no I think sadly they don’t have a reputation unfortunately. In a way that was the motivation for doing this show, to have the material be seen as it should be on stage and experienced. I was talking to my 18-year-old nephew and he’d never heard of Peter Cook and Dudley Moore. Of course he hadn’t heard of them. There’s no reason. There’s no shows available. Uh, hadn’t even heard of Dudley Moore. But they’re the greatest sketch writers around, you know. They write very different to Python. Python are very much about form. Fomat sketches where they’d sort of empty the content out of a quiz show and then put in some odd thing that’s held together by the format of a quiz show or the format of a pet salesman dealing with a complaint from a customer and all those sort of rules and regulations that hold those things together. Cook and Moore’s stuff is more character-driver and it can go anywhere. It can go where ever it likes. That stuff’s quite rare, you don’t really see that much of that sort of stuff.

    Did you and Stephen Curry get together and think about this?

    No it was my idea, really. Stephen was brought in when we were into the casting of it. Good choice. Performing with him and seeing what he does with the material and with me makes me realise how lucky we were that we got him, because there was a question mark over whether he was going to be able to do the touring season of it and I can’t think of anyone who would be a suitable replacement for him.

    You’ve known him previously?

    Yeah, I’d worked with him on The King, but I’d known him for years anyway because he was friends with Bob Franklin and Rossi’s (Roz Hammond) and we sort of mucked around together, the new members of that group.

    Have you had any contact with Britain or the United States? Could you see yourself going there and trying it there?

    No, no. Too old. Too old. But, Dan Patterson who’s the creator of Who’s Line in England, he and I had a correspondence for a while because he really liked The Micallef Programme and wanted to do a show like that in England, so I was going to go over and do an English version but yeah, it didn’t pan out. That was a few years ago, but I speak to him every now and again. But I’m happy here. It’s too late to start again. I think it would be very demoralising. I’ve got kids, I’vegot family, but really I’m just not interested (laughs). At the end of the day I don’t give a fuck. I just like doing what I do and I’ve got enough freedom here to do what I want to do. Even before Generation I seemed to be able to do what I want to do. Newstopia was a great show to do and I’d do it at the drop of a hat again. I really enjoyed doing it and I’d be more than happy being ten o’clock on SBS on Wednesdays. So the success of Generation will allow me to play in a few other pools, doing some odd things here and there. Probably a couple more years. That’ll do. That’s absolutely fine with me.

    There must be times when the weight of ‘the biz’ comes down? Has there been any times recently where you’ve regretted giving up being a lawyer?

    No, no it’s a joy and the other thing I like about it is I can take my kids to school and pick them up and the time is my own to do with what I want and if I don’t want to work for a month I don’t have to work for a month. It’s great. I mean, I’m increasingly getting lazier and lazier. I’d rather not work at all, to be perfectly honest. I’ve given up producing other people and directing other people, I suspect, but being in front of the camera, I’ll continue to do that. I’ve had the luxury of being able to do exactly what I’ve wanted to do on a number of occasions for TV shows, so it’s not like I’ve got that burning need to be free of the oppressive constraints of other producers and bad writing.

    You’ve been through that already?

    Well I did that with Full Frontal and even that wasn’t too bad. That was me learning. And then the next job I had was my own show that I could do whatever I wanted with so it’s fantastic. Very lucky man, you know. And I was only 34 or something like that. It was great to be able to do that. So everything else has been a bonus.

    Do you feel that now you’ve gone back onto a bit of a more mainstream audience you’re getting noticed more? Is it difficult to get out in public?

    No, it doesn’t bother me at all. People come up to me and say they enjoyed, actually more people come up to me about Newstopia than they did for any of the other shows. The other thing it’s because I wear glasses and dress like a bum, people think I look like the guy maybe. They don’t think I am the guy. I think if you conduct yourself as a star, you’re going to get people looking at you. If you, as I did, jump on the Circle Tram and come down here from the Docklands car park, no one’s gonna bother you.

    I could of course have kept asking questions forever, but Shaun had places to be. Namely, The Comedy Theatre on the corner of Exhibition and Lonsdale Streets for Good Evening: The Sketches of Peter Cook and Dudley Moore starring Shaun Micallef & Stephen Curry, which is running until April 11 as part of the Melbourne International Comedy Festival. I got the impression Shaun is a man very content, able to do essentially whatever he wants, just for the love of it, and in the fickle world of show business, at least in Australia, that’s very rare indeed.

    Kind regards,
    David M. Green

  • THE Big Show on Triple M: Reflection

    Greetings,

    Well last night I made my commercial and national radio debut with THE Big Show on the fabulous Triple M network. Due to delays, it went to air almost simultaneously in Adelaide and Sydney around 10:45EST (10:15CST). Melbourne didn’t start until after midnight. Not sure about Brisbane. Anyone hear it in Brisbane? If you missed it, the podcast is now up on the Triple M websites, the Semi-Pro Radio website, and the mp3 is right here.

    So that’s it. We did the show and now it’s over. Special thanks to Triple M, to whoever came up with this Semi-Pro Radio idea, to Alan Miller Fast Voice-overs (the agency we represented), to Miles and Sam “on the pots and pans” and their fabulous recording and editing work and to Tim Lordan, APD at Triple M Adelaide for tolerating us. Overall we’re all pretty happy with the show. For a once-off pre-recorded show recorded and produced with the limited time and resources available to us, it’s pretty good. Good. Not great, in my opinion. Although what do you expect? It was only by the end of the recording session we were getting into it. I hadn’t done radio with Matty B in over 2 years and we’re used to sitting in chairs around a panel, not standing “Nova-style” in a 4 metre squared voice-over booth. Funnily enough, we initially wrote in the show’s description “with David M. Green and Matty B in the hot seat, or seats, depending on budget restraints…” Ironically there were no seats.

    I think it’ll be obvious to anyone listening with a basic understanding of radio that some of the talk breaks were quite edited. 2 whole talk breaks weren’t recorded simply because we ran out of studio time. Another sketch we recorded wasn’t edited because we ran out of production time, and other things that were recorded, edited and ready to go were then cut due to their content and further time concerns. I can now personally appreciate why Tony Martin demanded 7 production hours for every 1 hour of “Get This.” For a comedy show, you need a lot of time, even if just to listen back and redo little things (which we didn’t really have a chance to do, although hindsight is 20/20 and with a pre-recorded show there’s always the temptation to go back and “fix” EVERYTHING. In a way it’s easier to do it live…).

    Most disappointing for me personally was the loss of an entire minute from the Smiddy soundboard prank call. I feel like a bit of a jerk now, as on the show I introduced it as “the greatest prank call in the history of the world,” a wild and totally unjustified claim I know. The original was 4 and a half minutes and that version was legitimately too long and dragged a little, so I cut it down to 3 minutes. The 3-minute version is very funny. Certainly a lot funnier than the 2-minute version that went to air. But thanks to the miracle of the Internet, you can hear the 3-minute Smiddy soundboard prank call right here. Hazaa!

    I guess a big problem for THE Big Show was the fact that we simply had too many ideas. We really packed the maximum amount we thought we could get away with into each 3-minute talk break (evidently more than the maximum as it turned out). If we were doing 5 shows a week we’d probably spread the ideas we had over a whole month. We didn’t leave ourselves any time to potter along with some laid-back banter. We didn’t want to take the risk and waste a talk break. We only have 1 show, only the BEST. The end result is a very fast-paced show (probably too fast, even for Alan Miller’s Fast Voice-overs!). I felt we needed a little more time to introduce and explain and just chat. We could have spent another whole talk break doing impressions of those clips from The Lawnmower Man. I love the quotes “His mind is like a clean hungry sponge!” and “You gonna do some, uh night-mowing?” They’re hilarious! We should have made a bigger deal about those, instead of brushing over them so quickly. Not to mention the incredible coincidence that Pierce Brosnan’s character in that film is named “Larry” and we mashed it together with clips from Channel 7’s “Larry The Lawnmower.” Can you believe that? I couldn’t believe it when I noticed that, AFTER I’d already started writing the sketch.

    But all in all a truly incredible, amazing, RARE priviledge. We made a comedy show for Triple M! And there’s plenty more where that came from. We’ll be back on-air somewhere in some form eventually. No doubt about that.

    Kind regards,
    David M. Green
    Mind like a clean hungry sponge.

  • THE Big Show: It’s Freaking Hilarious!

    Hey!

    I went into Triple M Adelaide yesterday to sit in with Sam (our extremely dedicated producer) while he put the finishing touches on all our sketches and segments for THE Big Show. Poor Sam. He’d just got back from his European holiday the day before (no doubt to escape the huge workload thrust upon him by the Triple M production department) and he had been at Triple M catching up on the backlog of work since 5am! I got there at noon and I was supposed to spend an hour with him going over the show. I ended up staying for 3 and a half hours. Laughter was abundant.

    I gotta say, it sounds fantastic! Kudos to Sam and Miles in production and Tim Lordan, the assistant programme director for their time and advice and excellent work in bringing our ideas to life. Until now, we were all thinking “well, we’ll give it our best shot and hopefully it’ll be good” but now that I’ve heard how it all sounds it’s “Oh my God! It worked! It’s great! This is amazing!” But hey, I don’t want to over-sell it… You can decide for yourself. Tune in this Sunday August 30th 2009 at 10pm on Triple M in Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Adelaide or online. It’s Semi-Pro Radio. This week it’s  THE Big Show with David M. Green, Matty B, Tim Wray, Nick Godfrey & Adam Navarro and I can honestly say it’s some of our finest and funniest work to date. And we had a damn good time doing it!

    Kind regards,
    David M. Green
    Look out for the Larry the Lawnmower sketch…