I've had a few questions about the extent of my involvement with the upcoming telemovies, to which the answer is 'not much'. With a maestro like John Clarke doing the adapting, both as writer and director, I was more than happy to stand back and cheer from the sidelines. There was one thing I was determined to get, however, and that was my author cameo. Since the Age webmeister is determined to ensure that nobody gets nothing for nothing and that I personally remain persona non gigabita, here is the text of my article:
It's a mug's game in the writing business
The Sunday Age. 13 June 2004
Next Sunday, exactly ten years after its initial publication, my novel ‘Stiff’ will debut as a telemovie. A second Murray Whelan mystery, ‘The Brush-Off’, will be broadcast later in the year. At long last I have joined the honour roll of authors whose work has been translated to the screen – a list that includes such distinguished writers as Jane Austen, Victor Hugo and Enid Blyton.
After numerous false starts and finishing line stumbles, things finally clicked into place last August. The deal was done, the contract signed and shooting scheduled to take place over summer.
John Clarke was elected to write the scripts. This was an ideal choice as he already had a box of pencils and knew where to borrow a sharpener if a second draft was needed. He would also direct ‘Stiff’, thereby cutting down on the total number of folding chairs required. David Wenham volunteered to star as Murray Whelan, the political minder at the centre of the action. His recent encounter with swarms of head-kicking orcs in ‘Lord of the Rings’ was ideal preparation for playing an ALP insider. Likewise, Sam Neill’s offer to direct ‘The Brush-Off’ brought valuable lizard-wrangling skills to the project, thanks to his experience in Jurassic Park.
A cast of first-rate actors was assembled, as well as Mick Molloy and a dog named Ethel MacLaren-Kennedy. A small army of DOPs, FADs, grippers, gaffers, gophers, designers, dressers, composers, caterers and techs was signed up. A tea urn was hired. The grippers, gaffers and gophers immediately rushed the tea urn and proceeded to consume the budget, many of them with milk and two sugars.
This left only one major issue still to be resolved – the question of the author cameo.
Getting your mug into the movie of your book has become absolutely de rigeur in the writing racket. Everybody from Kurt Vonnegut to Steven King has popped up in a crowd scene or been glimpsed boarding a departing train.
Extra points are awarded for landing a role that corresponds to real life. Journalist-authors can sometimes be spotted playing newshounds in media scrums. Lawyer-authors like to sit on juries. Doctor-authors push gurneys along hospital corridors. After due consideration of my chequered employment history, it was decided that my role in ‘Stiff’ would be a captain of industry. This is known in the trade as casting against type.
They’d need a photograph, I was told. Drop by the production office. Wear a dark suit and a Melbourne Grammar tie.
Duly togged up, I was stood against some woodgrain panelling and instructed to look like the CEO of a major bank, but without smirking. Snaps were taken and I was given a cup of tea and sent home. Don’t call us, we’ll call you. Next thing I heard, the shoot was over and post-production had begun. I must have failed the audition, I concluded.
A month later, I was summoned to the set of ‘The Brush-Off’. The scene was a silvertail art-world gathering, all air-kisses and champagne flutes. Decked out in a Valentino suit, courtesy of the wardrobe department, I clustered with unctuous arts flunkies in the slipstream of the stars. And so was born my brilliant career as an actor. If you’re really quick, you can catch me in ‘Stiff’ as a head-shot in a newspaper used by Murray Whelan to mop the floor when his roof springs a leak. For a longer viewing, almost five seconds, look over Bruce Spence’s shoulder as he escorts Mick Molloy and Alex Menglet into the Katcraft boardroom.
And I’m claiming the extra points, too, at least for ‘The Brush-Off’. Before taking up writing, I worked as an arts flunky. I wasn’t unctuous, of course. That bit was sheer acting.