First review: Samuel Johnson dazzles with uncanny portrayal in mini-series Molly
FIRST REVIEW: It’s the hotly anticipated mini-series about the life of an Aussie national treasure, music guru Molly Meldrum. So what’s the verdict?
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IT’S the hotly anticipated mini-series about the life of an Australian national treasure, music guru Molly Meldrum. Here, in the country’s first review, News Corp Australia’s National Music Writer Cameron Adams gives his verdict on Molly.
SAMUEL Johnson’s return to acting was possibly the toughest role he could have tackled.
For over 40 years Molly Meldrum has been one of the most recognisable faces — and hats — in Australia, as well as a music and TV icon. His popularity has stretched over several generations, and as his latest health battles have shown once again, the man is a survivor.
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But Johnson morphs into Molly from the get-go. The similarity is uncanny, and not just visually, but never moves into parody. That was crucial for Molly to work. The same way Eric Bana channelled Chopper Read and had you instantly transfixed, Johnson’s loving recreation of Molly anchors the entire mini-series. Which is lucky, because he’s in virtually every single scene.
Johnson perfectly captures Meldrum’s everyman quality, the one that continues to endear him to the nation.
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There’s the Molly who passionately fought to create Countdown as a vehicle to promote Australian music and yet is filled with crippling self-doubt when he accidentally becomes the show’s face and host.
There’s the Molly who’ll jump out of the DJ booth in a nightclub and into a fight to protect his friends, even landing himself in court on an assault charge.
Molly also delicately peers into the TV star’s private life — we first meet Molly seriously loved up with his fiance Camille. Before long he’s dabbling with dudes, but when in court on that fight charge he denies being a “homosexual”, later pointing out he didn’t lie under oath because he was actually bisexual. Side note: Supernaut’s I Like It Both Ways is one of the many Australian classics on the flashback-filled soundtrack.
While it touches on his romantic life and there’s surreal flashbacks to his mother, Molly’s other relationships give the miniseries depth beyond being just about a man and his love of music. The ever humble Meldrum is always the first to point out Countdown wasn’t a one man show, and directors/producers Michael Shrimpton, Robbie Weekes, Grant Rule and Ted Emery all get key scenes.
The bromance with Michael Gudinski is hilarious and typifies the larrikin streak through the whole production. There’s the guerilla tactics to push the boundaries of what the ABC would be willing to do, including creating the ‘Do yourself a favour’ catchphrase as a way of not blatantly trying to sell albums — a no-no on the national broadcaster.
Johnson also nails the recreation of key moments in Countdown — and Australian TV — history. There’s the 100th episode where the miniseries tells us Molly was more than just tired and emotional after taking what wasn’t a headache tablet backstage. As he staggers and slurs someone asks “does he seem more Molly than usual?” And while there’s actors playing everyone from John Paul Young to late Skyhook Shirley Strachan, modern CGI is used to digitally insert a vintage Prince Charles into a remake of *that* interview, complete with touching of the royal knee that left one not amused.
Music and TV trainspotters beware: some of the story has been dramatised for commercial TV and some of the story has been sanitised for commercial TV. And they’ve shoehorned plenty in to the first instalment — they could have easily have made this a three-part series without padding. That’s how you know you’ve got the right subject for a miniseries.
And while the first episode is all about the ’70s, it begins, a little awkwardly, with his 2011 fall from the roof. The graphic thud as his head hits the floor will have people shuddering in loungerooms across Australia.
In its heyday, Countdown was seen by a remarkable three million people on a Sunday night. Split Enz (who pop up in the Countdown cafeteria) once sang about history never repeating. But don’t be too surprised if Countdown, via Molly, hits those magical figures again, 40 years on.
Molly, Channel 7, Sunday February 7, 8.30pm
Originally published as First review: Samuel Johnson dazzles with uncanny portrayal in mini-series Molly