This was published 10 years ago
Shaun Micallef: From 'It's a Date' to 'Mad as Hell', he's a top TV talent
Shaun Micallef makes merry among the madness of politics and comedy with rare skill, writes Debi Enker.
By Debi Enker
It's time to salute the estimable talent of Shaun Micallef. In recent weeks, we've been treated to his rendition of Roland, a Hungarian dinner-theatre artiste, on It's a Date, as well as to his continuing role as the cranky, quizzical anchorman on the satirical Shaun Micallef's Mad as Hell (Wednesday, ABC, 8pm).
But over years, we've seen the writer, producer, performer, comedian, actor and TV show host in a wider range of roles. He's built a body of work that has made him one of the country's most versatile and adventurous TV talents. Since he appeared in the mid-'90s as a writer and performer on the sketch comedy, Full Frontal, the Adelaide-born lawyer has constructed a CV distinctive for its inventiveness and diversity.
Early on there were the ABC productions, the legal comedy Welcher & Welcher and the sketch comedy of The Micallef P(r)ogram(me), the latter offering an indication of his inclination to mess with the rules by deploying a nutty succession of titles. Then came a regrettably short-lived stint as a variety show host on Micallef Tonight (2003), followed by BlackJack crime-drama telemovies, penned with his regular writing partner, Gary McCaffrie, and starring Colin Friels. There were acting roles in SeaChange, Laid and The King, an impressive turn as a Logies host and memorable appearances on Thank God You're Here. For four seasons, he hosted the game show Talkin' 'bout Your Generation, continually trying to stretch the limits of a tight format. There were three seasons of Newstopia, in which he introduced crimebuster Inspektor Herring, on SBS, the network that had enjoyed success with another unlikely police detective, Inspector Rex.
Last year, in addition to Mad as Hell, he contributed a story idea for the final episode in the first season of It's a Date, a bittersweet vignette about the final meeting between a man and his long-lost love that somehow managed to work a dancing dog into the scenario. Also in 2013 he co-created and associate produced Mr and Mrs Murder, in which he also co-starred with Newstopia's Kat Stewart. Inspired by the William Powell-Myrna Loy partnership in The Thin Man movies, the comedy-crime series presented a happy marriage of equals and opposites. Nicola (Stewart), keen-eyed and empathetic, and Charlie (Micallef), a man less at ease in the world but, like his creator, a veritable encyclopaedia of arcane information.
For years, on camera and behind the scenes, Micallef's work has repeatedly found a fresh angle. He relishes silliness, delights in the absurd and the incongruous, and his brain seems to work like no one else's.
On Mad as Hell, perhaps inspired by Peter Finch's character and his "mad as hell' speech in the 1976 Oscar-winner Network, he's the anchorman, when he's not popping up in skits. Like John Cleese and Steve Martin, he has the kind of long-limbed body that's well-suited to slapstick.
But mostly he's behind the desk and, because he's Micallef, he can carry the conventional jacket-and-tie look convincingly. Essentially, though, he's a clown in a suit, the hosting role allowing him plenty of scope to joke: to deadpan a response, to grill a ridiculously named expert, to raise a puzzled eyebrow. He's also ably supported by a game troupe of playmates: Francis Greenslade, Roz Hammond, Stephen Hall, Emily Taheny and Tosh Greenslade. Together they present comedy that can be shamelessly silly because it also provides piercing political satire and accomplishes what any successful satire should: it fundamentally shifts a viewer's perspective on a person or an event and indelibly substitutes its own skewed view.
I can no longer look at Bill Shorten without thinking of the Zingers segment, which lampoons the federal Opposition Leader's attempts to produce meaty grabs for a sound-bite hungry media. Ditto for Prime Minister Tony Abbott, whose less-than-inspirational address to the United Nations on behalf of his country - "We're strong enough to be useful, but pragmatic enough to know our limits" - Micallef seized upon with the suggestion that the words should be adopted on the national coat of arms: Useful. Pragmatic. Limited.
The sketches take well-aimed shots at a number of favoured targets, such as Jacqui Lambie, Bob Katter and Mathias Cormann – or at least his Schwarzenegger-style adviser. There are regular reminders of the debate over the burqa ban at Parliament House, the kerfuffle over the meaning of metadata, the offer of payment for those volunteering to store nuclear waste and the impact such an initiative might have on a cash-strapped ABC. There are back-handers for Left Whingers and T-shirts featuring nationalistic slogans.
In short, which Micallef is not, his is a talent equipped to extract from a political landscape a bountiful vein of humour. It's the kind of mining that really does make us richer.