Soaps
vvork renews the contract. And that’s where the money is. Renewal is thus the cornerstone of Grundys’ success. “ A company like ours,” says Holmes, “ needs a pretty healthy output of weekly productions. Having established that, you do have the opportunity to do other things.” In the past, The Young Doctors (1976-1981) and The Restless Years (1977-1981) have been rosy sources of health. Currently, it is Prisoner (in production since 1979), Sale of the Century (since 1980) and Perfect Match (since 1983). The first two are Grundys originals, the last was Below, the grittier side o f primetime drama: Judy Bryant (Betty Bobbitt) is restrained by Vera Bennett (Fiona Spence), while Bea Smith (Val Lehman) struggles with another officer in a past episode o f Prisoner. And, underneath, Gordon Hamilton (Brian Blain) suffering — with Amanda Morrell (Alyce Platt) and Andy Green (Danny Roberts) looking on, in Grundys’ Sons and Daughters.
licensed in from the United States, where a version has been in syndication since 1967. Brightest hope of this season’s new shows is the enormously successful European participation show, It’s a Knockout — a sort of World War III fought with inflatable dolls and buckets of water — which was licensed from France’s Guy Lux (a man, not a company) for an undisclosed but almost certainly substantial amount. The other thing Holmes has done since his arrival at Grundys is pursue a policy of diversification. This has included a travel company, GO Grundy Travel, a $7-million family entertainment complex at Surfer’s Paradise — a sort of Grundyland — and a share in the Sydney Entertain ment Centre. At the moment, how ever, there are no plans to repeat Grundys one and only venture into the movies, the 1974 film , Barry McKenzie Holds His Own. A plan, announced in 1978, for a $ 1.5-million development deal with the Australian
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Grundys
Film Commission, never came to is some inevitable grumbling about it fruition. But Grundys are going back being a factory — it used to be a joke to the single-story form at. A that no one working on the major $4-million, six-hour miniseries is now drama serials had ever set eyes on Reg in development with the 7 Network. himself — there is a general feeling And, claims Holmes, Grundys have that producers and directors are left to “ eleven to twelve” made-for-TV get on with the job, without the front movies at various stages of develop office interference that is a regular ment. The healthy output, in other feature of some TV production words, is now allowing the other houses. The result, as any Australian teleview er knows, can be the things. The bottom line of Grundys’ occasional classic episode, which estimated $40 million turnover, brings the formula to life. But formula is-, in the final analysis, however, is the packaged material — the game shows and the soap operas. what soap opera — or ‘primetime Not surprisingly, Holmes resists the drama’, as Holmes prefers to call it — word ‘soap’: “ I don’t like the is all about. Grundys works because expression, because it doesn’t relate to the product keeps flowing. And, what we do. That form of serial though it will probably never feature in production, which was started by the an anthology of great Australian soap powder manufacturers, is not drama, it certainly seems to hit the much like the ones we do. They were button as far as the Australian viewing faster made, with a lower scene-count. public is concerned. For game shows, Our production values are much the formula is even simpler (though not, of course, simple to predict): the higher.” Certainly, Grundys’ stock is quite vicarious experience of at least one of high within the industry. Though there the seven deadly sins, usually avarice. Perfect Match, with its constant hint of naughtiness and conflict, and its astute manipulation of the game show trick of secondary sponsorship (the giving of prizes whose brand names are endlessly mentioned on air); and Sons and Daughters, with its closely contained dramas and hothouse
“ I don’t like the expression ‘soap’, because it doesn’t relate to what we do. That form of serial production, which was started by the soap powder manufacturers, is not much like the ones we do” atmosphere, are among the most commercially successful products currently available on Australian television. “ The most successful show,” says Holmes, echoing the movie moguls of past decades, “ can be very quickly capsulized as to what it is about.” Again with hindsight, that was one of the problems with Possession: it defied immediate capsulization and required, instead, some vague notion of style to explain its appeal. The best soap operas — or serials, or primetime dramas — certainly need to put all their emotions under a magnifying glass, but there also need to be real human beings lurking somewhere in there, and there needs to be a back ground which, if it isn’t real, is, like Dallas and Dynasty, very, very rich. Because money, it seems, changes everything. It is only if we know that the people on our screens aren’t the sort who keep their eyes glued apprehensively on the meter every time they take a taxi or check every item on the supermarket bill, that we can forgive them for behaving outrage ously. The people in Possession are patent meter-watchers and billcheckers, but they keep carrying on as though they are not. And audiences don’t easily forgive that. The package, in short, was wrong. It is not a mistake that Grundys often make. ★ CINEMA PAPERS July — 23