(This post contains spoilers for Episode One.)
Picture this; dear readers.
It's August 2021. New South Wales is in a tight lockdown, and your region joined this in the past two weeks. Work has been slowed down, and you are already feeling an itch of boredom (and a chill in the air - it is winter, after all). That night, you turn to ABC iView to entertain you for the evening; something that would become a common occurrence for the duration of lockdown. But what to watch?
There's a program in the banner; one of which you have heard about. It's a brand new Australian show which was going to be gracing our screens for six weeks of Sundays. Your family watched the first episode a couple of days ago.
"I'm going to give it a go. Was it any good?" you call out into the kitchen.
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| Dale Jennings (Sam Reid) - Opening Scene |
When the response was a "yes," you press the 'enter' button of your remote and watch it all unfold. Some thoughts; there's a sweet young bloke, gazing at a prized piece of Paul Hogan becoming Australian of the Year in 1986. Dale Jennings is his name, you later find out, and the man responsible for bringing this floppy haired and baby-faced reporter to life is actor Sam Reid. As Hogan gives his acceptance speech, there's a pause on the screen, and the editor who strangely looks like the nerdy man in Stranger Things (coincidentally, also called Murray, and played by John Leary) pulls a VHS out of the vast array of machines in the edit booth - black tape having been sucked from the video and into the mouth of the technological monster. Panic ensues, and you follow this young man down the hall, racing to film a new ending to the story. With the help of his trusty camera and sound crew (Tim Ahern and Ross, played by Chai Hansen and Jackson Tozer) and a young Korean-Australian woman who would further prove her helpfulness over the next six episodes (Noelene Kim, played by Michelle Lim Davidson), he manages to put together another story just in time for the nightly bulletin. Thank goodness for that.
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| "I think that ending was even better!" |
On the other side of the News At Six building in the filming studio, two newsreaders are combing their way through the bulletin for the 24th of January 1986. An older gentleman with a deep voice; Geoff Walters (Robert Taylor) and his much younger junior - a magnetic and glamorous brown haired lady whose personality is as striking as her crown of combed-back and teased hair - are responsible for bringing the news to this commercial network every night, and from the outset, you can see clearly that things aren't so ceremonious behind the scenes. Checking the autocue, the star newsreader Helen Norville (Anna Torv) is bewildered. "Hey, I thought I was reading the Thatcher story," she glanced over at her colleague. "There was a late change," Geoff responsed, shuffling through his papers. The glare she gives the camera could very well be a prime example of the expression 'if looks could kill;' nostrils flaring and taking the viewer and whatever thoughts were going through her mind hostage. You love her already.
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| Helen Norville (Anna Torv) - not for the faint of heart. |
The title sequence gives you the name of the Australian television curiosity that will have somewhat of a chokehold on you for much longer than its six weeks of broadcast; The Newsreader. What a ride it would be.
Helen tore her way through the newsroom, enraged and taking out this dissatisfaction on the newsroom director Lindsay Cunningham. No way! That's William McInnes? That's what Max Connors from SeaChange looks like now? You are entirely forgiven for not recognising the portly old gent straight away; with his thick white beard and more full appearance, the veteran Australian actor is a long way away from his SeaChange days. You can only compare him now to Santa Claus; the kind that would take presents from children as opposed to giving them. Santa's evil twin works in journalism?
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| William McInnes is no longer Max Connors, that’s for sure. |
"You said it at the Christmas party!" Helen reminds her boss, referring to his (admittedly) drunken promise of giving her a special report of her very own each Monday back in late 1985. "Christ Helen! You cannot take anything a bloke says at a Christmas party seriously!" He snaps back. As the kerfuffle continues behind closed doors, our young mate Dale is half-reading a magazine, whilst also nervously pacing around the door. He approaches the personal assistant (Jean, played by Caroline Lee), considerately suggesting that he could reschedule his meeting with Lindsay if this isn't the right time. "You're never going to get that," she tells the reporter. Maybe he could come back when Lindsay's in a better frame of mind? Jean looks the young bloke up and down; "you're never going to get that, either." At that point, Helen bursts out the office, almost tearing the door of its hinges, and Lindsay yells out behind her. "You parade around this place like you're Barbara bloody Walters but you're not! You're Helen Norville! And let me tell you something, Helen; I've got twenty girls ready to replace you tomorrow."
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| "Rebel, that's right. I'm on my own, I'll call my own shots. Thank you." |
With a growl, Lindsay goes back inside to pack his briefcase. Jean motions to Dale, "he's free." Dale hesitantly approaches his boss, hinting at a demo tape he made for the news desk. Lindsay sighs. The young man standing before him is an okay reporter and a very good producer, but a newsreader? Perhaps not. He very gently tells Dale that only a certain kind of presenter wouldn't get the channel switched on them; nothing personal, it's just that certain presenters make the viewer feel very secure. He uses Helen as an example. "Now Helen, you put a lens on her, and she connects." Despite this, he can tell how eager Dale is to give it a shot. He makes a deal with Dale; help Helen put her special stories together starting from Monday, steer her away from "shitty stories about cross-eyed, single mothers with AIDS and Christ knows what else," and he could have a go at the Tuesday morning update. Dale's eyes sparkle, accepting the deal, and victory dancing his way back into the office; sharing over the phone to his mother Val (Maude Davey) the good news.
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| Val Jennings (Maude Davey) - One very proud mumma! |
As to be expected from what we have already seen from this program, Monday will not go without its own trials. Helen waltzes into the office, ready to pitch her idea to the chief of staff Dennis Tibb (Chum Ehelepola), only to find that she has been offloaded to Dale. It's not a secret that she has gone through many producers in her time; "blokes that didn't take [her] seriously as a journalist," as she would later share in a fictional Woman's Day article, and Dale was going to be the latest in this line of unsuspecting souls assigned to her. Dennis reminds her that "all reporters work under a producer," and she heads over to the young man who had just given her a friendly wave. He does seem different to the producers beforehand; he's softly spoken, gentle and warm. She pitches her story to him. She has been in contact with a woman called Caroline Gibson (who would later appear in Episode Five, played by Torv's The Secret Life of Us costar and onscreen best friend Alexandra Schepisi). Caroline developed HIV through a blood transfusion during pregnancy, and unknowingly passed this on to her children. Helen knows Lindsay's thoughts on AIDS stories, but she hopes that she and Dale can rebrand it as a family story. Dale doesn't shoot the idea down straight away, but he is quick to suggest that she may like to pick a more upbeat story for the first in this string of special reports. Perhaps they could come back to that at a later date, but for now, maybe they could interview some prep kids (it's the first day of school, after all) or visit the Melbourne Zoo butterfly house to celebrate its one millionth visitor.
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| Do you really think Helen wants to interview prep children, Dale!? |
Helen is not impressed, and goes over to Dennis to complain. Dale - not wanting to lose his shot at the desk - rushes over to diffuse the situation. Would she be interested in a story about women in space? Yes she would be; enough to at least entertain the idea in the edit booth. Christa McAuliffe is about to become the first civilian launched into outer-space on the much anticipated sending off of the Shuttle Challenger - a secondary school teacher, who will also conduct lessons from the space shuttle. Helen frowns; "it's a US story." To the newsreader, bringing Australian stories to her Australian audience is of utmost importance. Despite Dale finding ways to bring this US story back home; interviewing an CSIRO scientist perhaps, and airing then-prime minister Bob Hawke's comments that Australia might get a space program of its very own, Helen is not satisfied and storms off to Lindsay's office to express this. "I've spent a year and a half doing regional, I was a senior reporter for two years," she reminds him; demonstrating how underused her skills are. "60 Minutes are sending female reporters to warzones!" Helen is seething at this point, comparing her plight to that of her fellow female journalists such as Jana Wendt, who are receiving far better career opportunities than her elsewhere. "Anywhere you go is a warzone, Helen - you're a warzone on two legs!" Lindsay laughs haughtily. He hops up from his chair, cornering Helen into the doorway of the office. "I'm not joking, Helen. Every day I have to back you up. Every day people come in here, and they say, 'Helen Norville, she's a nightmare. She's got a face like a slapped-arse. But I bat them all back. But you know what, Helen? They are F*CKING RIGHT." The humiliation is too much for Helen, and she runs from the office in tears; not able to get out of the building fast enough. Lindsay demands Noelene to erase Helen's name from the run-downs, and gifts all of Helen's stories and updates to Dale, starting from tomorrow. This should have been a cause of celebration for Dale; having unexpectedly found himself a promotion, but he glances over guiltily to Helen's briefcase and notebook that she has left behind on the table.
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| "Helen Norville is a nightmare." |
Helen's absence from the desk that night is obvious, and Geoff rings home after the bulletin. His wife; Evelyn, notes this too. Evelyn is played by the legendary Australian actress Marg Downey, known for her work on comedy programs such as Fast Forward and in the real 1986, as a part of The D-Generation. Geoff tells her that Helen is most likely gone for good, and Evelyn makes sure that Geoff will convince Lindsay to drop the idea of a second reader as a replacement, cementing himself again as the network's star newsreader as he has been for the past three decades; gone unchallenged until the charismatic and magnetic younger female star came along. "The network will have to announce it soon, she courts those women's magazines." It appears Evelyn is across all the forms of public engagement the network's news team engages in, and the intimate details of her husband's work place too. Going to the women's magazines is far from Helen's mind this evening, however; taking herself home, forgetting to shut her car door, and sending the contents of her kitchen bench flying in a flurry of tears.
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| Geoff and Evelyn Walters (Robert Taylor and Marg Downey) |
After bringing the Challenger story to life on his own, Dale parks his car outside of a house that is not his own; holding Helen's case and book in his hand, and brings this up to the front door. Ringing the doorbell, he lets Helen know that it is him, returning her belongings and to check if she is alright. Bless him. He's been the only person to do so from her workplace, and upon entering her home after receiving no answer and finding her passed out on her dining room floor in a puddle of her own sick, he rings the ambulance. Dale and the paramedics discover that she has overdosed on her medication, and when Helen refuses a hospital trip due to her public status, Dale takes her into his place for the night to get her away from the other medication she might have around.
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| "Should she stick around if this is all that life meant?" |
Waking up the next morning and entering his dining room, Helen is already folding the linen from the sofa-bed; wanting to get out of Dale's hair as soon as possible. He insists that she stays for the day to rest, promising to bring home dinner that evening so that they "can come up with a plan." "What kind of plan?" Helen quizzes him. "To get you home?" Dale wrings his hands in front of him. Taking once glance at the man who has just saved her life in a pair of stripey pyjamas that would give the Bananas In Pyjamas a run for their money, Helen softly smiles. "Okay."
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| Who wore the pyjamas better, Helen? Dale Jennings, or two banana blokes? |
With Helen at his house, Dale goes into work that Tuesday morning, doing vocal exercises to perfect his newsreading voice on the drive over. Despite his practising, his first morning update has unfavourable results. He has spoken way too fast, mucked up the name of Allan Border, sped through a Dire Straits Australian tour announcement, and it is evident to viewers that tears of embarrassment are prickling in his eyes. Even Val, who has tuned in to see her son's first update with a cup of tea and a friend, cannot suppress her sigh of pity. Noelene suggests kindly to Dale that tomorrow morning, they could do a practise round, and knock-about sports reporter and former St Kilda Saints VFL player Rob Rickards (Stephen Peacocke) assures him that he "has a future calling horse races." Not sure if that will help boost his spirits, Rob. Tim is a bit more thoughtful in his reassurance than Rob; "you'll get there."
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| Well that went well... |
Coming home to Helen cooking dinner for the pair of them, Dale confides in her that he did the morning update, shutting himself in his room to try to forget the ordeal. Helen realises that Dale had taped the ordeal on his VCR, presses play on the tape machine, and Dale charges through his flat to stop her before she had seen too much. "Can I watch it?" she asked. "No," Dale shook his head. Absolutely not - there would be no way he would let the newsreading star see his bodged-up attempt at what she does best. She notes Dale's fluster. "The first time I read, I froze for like a solid ten seconds, and I kept stumbling on the word 'phenomenon'. Took me three goes at it." Dale realises that even Helen had a rough first time on the desk, and his shoulders loosen. "Let me watch it." she pleads with him. "It's really bad." Dale forewarns, but allows her to anyway. Seated in front of the television with Dale, Helen takes it all in, and bursts into a hearty laugh of equal pity and endearment, resting her arm on his knee, and causing Dale to cringe and chuckle into his hands. "It's a little fast but we can work on it!" She grinned warmly, and work on it they would.
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| "It's a bit fast but we can work on it!" |
Over dinner, Helen coaches Dale; getting him to read a story from the newspaper about Corazon Aquino; a hopeful presidential candidate for the 1986 Filipino election, who is up against Ferdinand Marcos. Aquino would end up winning the election a month later, ending the two decade rule of Marcos and thus becoming the eleventh president of the Philippines. "You're doing something to your voice." Helen points out. "I speed up but try to control the sound," Dale explains - a skill he has learnt through his summer vocal coaching lessons. "Okay, just try one in your normal voice. You've got to impart the information to me; I'm the audience." When this does not work, Helen gets Dale to take a swig of his wine, and imagine that he is reading to his mother back home in Bendigo. "You want her to understand, and she loves you, and she wants to understand the story too." He is a lot more relaxed and compelling in this approach, and the dull dining room light illuminates Helen's face as she watches on.
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| "Love is a stranger in an open car. To tempt you in and drive you far away." |
She is pleased, but another thought is racing through her mind. "I'd really like to do something with your hair. Just to shape it up." An audible sharp intake of breath is heard on Dale's side of the table, and Helen brushes the hair out of Dale's eyes with her fingers, stating that a percentage of what audiences see is the hair of the newsreader as he glances up at her starry-eyed. "See - go have a look!" Helen admired her handiwork. "I reckon at least ten percent more attractive!" Dale is suspicious of her statistics, but catches a glimpse of himself in his lounge room mirror, with Helen concluding that he actually looked twenty percent more attractive.
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| Smooth, Helen - very smooth! ;-) |
Dale's stint on morning updates was to be short lived. After hearing shocking news on the radio at her home the following morning, Noelene rushes to phone Dale, only to have the phone answered by a woman's voice, which she later identifies correctly as that of Helen Norville. How peculiar - what is Helen Norville doing at Dale's house? The Challenger - the spaceship that Dale had reported on only two days prior - has exploded upon takeoff, and it is almost certain that all the crew on board has perished, including Christa McAuliffe. Helen urges Dale to get into the studio straight away, but after having seen his update the morning before, Lindsay exercises all of his other options for reporting on this breaking news - not Dale. Rob has cancelled himself out due to lack of experience, and Geoff wouldn't be able to get in until midday. Lindsay sighs, and begrudgingly asks Noelene to ring Helen in, who passes on the task to Dale as Helen is at his place. Rob and Lindsay are equally as confused as she was at this news.
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| Noelene Kim (Michelle Lim Davidson) |
Helen rushes to the newsroom; piecing how they would put the story together before she had even hit the make-up chair, and together with Dale and Noelene, reported on the various angles of the developing story; "the worst accident in space history." Helen reacts to seeing the footage of the explosion live on air at the same time as the audience at home, visibly looking harrowed by the vision and that of Christa's parents watching on, and urges the audience to think of Christa's family and especially her children, who would be "going to bed, having tragically lost a parent."
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| "Horror movie, and it's blown a fuse. Horror movie, it's the six-thirty news." |
Helen's empathy shines through in her reporting; allowing herself to connect with the emotions felt by her audiences at home, and is one of the reasons why she is so loved by the viewers. This approach is not welcomed by all; namely, her costar Geoff, who is quick to criticise his colleague's more emotive reporting style. Geoff comes from the old-school world of journalism; you present the facts the way they are, and you remain unmoved. Both newsreaders represent beautifully the generational shift in the profession - how different eras and also genders of journalists go about their work in very different ways, yet the world of journalism that Geoff is accustomed to is fast becoming obsolete in the rapidly changing sphere of 1980s television news. A performative element is now required to 'hook' audiences; something that Helen has, and Geoff arguably does not. Whilst he is a figure of the news' past, Helen and Dale are both rising stars for the news' future, and he does not respond to this kindly. "But umm...working up emotion like that," he interjects. Helen stares blankly at him. "I wasn't working up anything." "Oh, we both know that you were." he scoffs. "Look, some people will probably applaud you for it, but I think most would prefer that sort of thing is reserved for soap operas, not the news bulletin." Helen shrugs and smiles rather smugly in response. "We'll see."
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| "We'll see," Geoff. We'll see. |
Dale follows Helen into the newsroom, unable to wipe his smile of dawning adoration for the dark haired television star off his face, to; you guessed it, a round of applause. Lindsay congratulates Helen on her work, and is willing to look past their kerfuffle the other day, and re-offer her place on the bulletin back to her. Helen reassumes her role, but under a few conditions; she is to alternate the lead story with Geoff equally, she wants to read the lead today and do the afternoon update solo, and - most importantly - she wants to have her Monday special stories, with Dale as her producer. Dale's smile grows wider as she looks in his direction, and he spends a considerable amount of time glancing at his new office ally, even when her own eyes dart away. "So you put all that in writing and yeah, I'll consider it." Helen says, sauntering backwards into her office and beckoning Dale to join her with a raise of an eyebrow, to which he dutifully follows.
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| Hooray! They did it, and our newsreading heroine is back to read the news for another day. |
This newly formed working relationship coexists with a developing friendship between the young reporter and star newsreader, as Dale drops Helen home that evening and they enjoy a glass of champagne together. Dale apologises for accidentally leaving Helen's front door unlocked when he took her to his place Monday night, offering to check her jewellery and electronics for her. "Dale!" Helen exclaims. "I don't care! You're apologising for leaving my door unlocked after saving my life? Thank you." Dale glances curiously at Helen over her bench. "Why did you take those pills?" He inquired. Not out of judgement, just from a point of curiousity. Helen is taken aback by the question, as she pauses to consider her answer. "It's not like I..." "No, I know." Dale reassures her. Finding her bottle opener, Helen responds. "You know those nights when everything horrible that anybody's ever said to you, or about you, and all the... you know, awful things you've ever done, just keep playing... over and over in your head?" Dale nods empathetically. It will become apparent in future episodes that he knows exactly what Helen is alluding to, just for reasons unique to him instead. Helen looks down towards her feet. "I just wanted silence."
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| "I just wanted silence." |
Dale compliments Helen on her stoicism and ability to maintain perfectly poised on camera, despite all the awful things that he knows she has been through the past few days. "You know you're incredible?" he tells her. Helen scoffs. "Wait until you get to know me." Dale is adamant in his praise. "I mean it. I could never do what you do." Helen shakes her head. "Yeah, you could". When Dale insists that his ship had already sailed, Helen brings the bottle over to her dining table. "You know, I'm a f*cking disaster." she laughs. "But I'm also relentless, and I'm loyal. I reckon we could make you a newsreader." Pushing the day's newspaper in front of Dale; ignoring his protests of fatigue, she gets him to try reading her an article again. The article he chooses? A story about Cabbage Patch Kid dolls being sold out all across the country - the toy craze that has swept the nation. Helen pours their drinks, and cheekily sends playful quips his way on his performance; Dale taking these with a laugh and equal humour, and her eyes flutter as she melts back in her seat; the episode fading out here.
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| "The sleep in your eyes is enough. Let me be there, let me stay there awhile." |
For fifty minutes, you have been swept up in the world of 1980s Australian journalism, nestled within a surprisingly warm and cosy pilot episode of a brand new drama, and you have somehow forgotten that you are indeed in 2021 lockdown Australia. With the songs Kyrie and Come Said The Boy (by Mr Mister and Mondo Rock, respectively) featuring in the episode causing you to check if there's an official soundtrack for the show (there would be, in the form of a Spotify playlist), various news stories encompassed that you now wanted to learn more about sending you on a research frenzy, and eliciting a slight regret for selling your own childhood Cabbage Patch Kids years prior, this television show would further sweep you up for five episodes more as you hung out impatiently for Sundays to roll about, rewatched each week's episodes countless times, and you fell more and more in love with the show's leading pair and the beautiful sense of love, care, push and pull between them as each episode played out. Television programs don't usually get you like this, but this one was something very special indeed - a true gorgeous time capsule of a bygone era that you weren't even alive for, but now hold close to your heart because of its involvement in what has now become your very favourite show.
That; dear reader, was only the beginning of my love affair with The Newsreader, and even nine months later, I am still raving about it on various social media platforms, and begging whoever will listen to watch it; mostly a successful campaign. It is evident as to how it was the most nominated and awarded television program at last year's AACTA Awards, and why it has now graced multiple streaming platforms and television channels worldwide - it's "bloody magic." (A great quote of Dennis' from Episode Two)
News At Six 1986 is my way of paying tribute to this very beloved show of mine, the characters and real history, and connecting with other people who loved the show just as much as I did, and took it to heart themselves. News At Six 1986 can already be found on Instagram and Twitter, but this lovely old-school blog will be dedicated to my ramblings and the news that cannot be shared in a short tweet or within the confines of an Instagram caption. What is your Newsreader story? I'd love to hear it!
~ Erin, for News At Six 1986
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Real History Links
Challenger Disaster - Britannica
Cabbage Patch Kids - Wikipedia
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