Tim Minchin (Most Outstanding Supporting Actor)
Hello Logies. Thank you so much. I hope you’re all having an excellent night.
I want to thank Daina Reid for having faith in me, and Stephen Luby and the ABC for having such passion for this project.
The story of Secret River was often very upsetting to tell, and if it was upsetting for me I can only imagine what it was like for Trevor Jamieson and Angus Pilakui and the rest of the Indigenous cast.
I particularly want to acknowledge Natasha Wanganeen who spent our particularly violent scene reassuring me that everything was cool.
I think it’s incredibly important that we keep telling the true history of Australia. It’s extremely complicated and painful, and it’s hard to know how to tell the story respectfully and how to make sure we amplify the right voices, but I do know that “Let’s get over it and move on” doesn’t cut it and never has in any culture in the history of the world.
David, Dan and Ryan, it’s an honour to be nominated alongside you, you handsome bastards, and I’m moving back to Australia next year so if you’re a casting agent and you need passable performances from weird looking people and you can’t get Toby Truslove – give us a call.
Thank you so much. It’s a massive honour. Thank you.
Noni Hazlehurst (Hall of Fame inductee)
Aw, that was interminable, I was nearly too old to play myself.
Wow. 43 years is a long time, and yet it seems like an instant. So much so this seems like somewhat of a shock. I’m very honoured and I’m very humbled and I thank you.
The Logies people wouldn’t let me see that package before now. They wanted me to cry, well job done, guys, thanks a lot.
I’m feeling pretty misty-eyed at the moment but I often get misty-eyed about things. As you heard I’m known for it. If something touches my heart I cry pretty readily.
In fact when my sons were teenagers and driving me up the wall and trying to get a reaction so they could watch me go off like a frog in a sock, I would sometimes start to cry, and they would start a slow handclap and say “oh, BAFTA”. Which of course would make me laugh, thus proving their point.
But I was disturbed this week that a misty-eyed response to a particularly frightful human story in the news was deemed inappropriate, and we were exhorted not to feel, not to have empathy, not to love.
I think of myself as a storyteller and since forever stories have been crafted and told to help us make sense of the world and to realise that we’re not alone. So whether it was finding more tips than a tin of asparagus during ten years on Better Homes and Gardens; or playing the role of a mother who’s been estranged from her son because he was gay in the extraordinary, ground-breaking series Redfern Now, I’ve always tried to find stories that resonated on an human, empathetic level.
Projects that existed to encourage people to feel and reflect and let me tell you that’s narrowed the field of what I’ve wanted to do considerably.
I was known for turning down more than I accepted for a while.
But if something didn’t seem to have value for me then I couldn’t expect it to for anyone else. But I have been incredibly lucky and I firmly believe that success in this business at least – I don’t know about any others – is fifty percent luck and fifty percent hard work.
And I have been so lucky. My first stroke of luck was being born to parents who, as Shane said in the package, were vaudevillians in England just prior to World War Two, and after the war England was buggered and Vaudeville was dead, killed off by John Logie Baird’s invention of television, so as ten pound Poms my parents came here in 1953, (and ) I was born.
We got TV for the Melbourne Olympics in 1956 – don’t worry, I’m not going through every year, it’s OK. So from the age of 3, once Mum and Dad noticed I had some ability and passion for performing, I was brought up on a diet of English comedies featuring people they’d worked with and great variety shows. Carol Burnett, Red Skelton, Dean Martin – the best entertainers of their time.
I learned at my parent’s knees comedy timing, accents, singing. I had ballet, piano, calisthenics lessons. Mum and Dad were incredibly critical of much of what increasingly became to be offered as entertainment, having worked with and watched some of the best.
My Mum said, “You can always tell a lousy act: they use lots of tricky lighting. The good ones just stood in the spotlight and did it.”
They made me understand that the industry didn’t owe me a living and that I had to be able to do anything and everything – great lessons indeed.
They taught me how to act. What they didn’t teach me, as I suspect no one had taught them, and because it wasn’t encouraged especially for girls, was how to be myself.
Play School was the next stroke of luck.
Under the tutelage of Henrietta Clark and the late Allan Kendall I learned the tenets of the Play School philosophy, formed by a most rare and wonderful respect, love and understanding of its target audience: a single pre-school child.
Once I got over my own self-consciousness and self-judgement and started to relax I realised this child was far more demanding than any audience of adults. Three and four year olds have the best bullshit detectors, don’t they? They don’t just watch you because you’re there, they want connection and they want real engagement.
If they sense you’re not really talking to them an ant crawling up the wall will quickly take their attention.
For many decades Play School has been an icon, an oasis and a safe haven in an increasingly complex media landscape and world. I started to see the world through a pre-schooler’s eyes; to see how free and unafraid they are to just “be”. They haven’t yet been conditioned. But also how easily frightened and overwhelmed they are, how easily abused, and particularly how empathetic they are.
No child is born a bigot.
The TV landscape when I started Play School in ’78 was very different: four channels, no 24/7 news, no 24/7 anything. It was much easier to protect children from images and information they couldn’t assimilate.
But with the explosion of technology and the proliferation of screens we can’t escape exposure to bad news and violent images. They’re everywhere – at the Dentist’s, on buses – and most of us, not just kids, find the bombardment overwhelming.
I suspect that almost none of us here, or watching, is immune from the growing incidence of depression, anxiety and suicide. We all know people who are struggling. We may be ourselves, and too many of our kids are.
We’re all living under a heavy and constant cloud of negativity. We’re divided against each other and our fellow human beings; we find it hard to trust; and we’re fearful for the future, and I think it’s because we’re surrounded by bad news and examples of our basest human behaviour.
I fear that our hearts are growing cold.
The fact that I’m only the second woman to be given this honour is only a reflection of the prevailing zeitgeist. As is the odious suggestion in some quarters that the eligibility of our esteemed colleagues Waleed Aly and Lee Lin Chin to be considered for the Gold is questionable.
But things are clearly changing. Here we are. But they’re changing glacially slowly. The great thing about glaciers is that if you’re not on them, you go under. I’ve been riding that glacier for 40 years, and I’m staying on top of it.
Graeme Blundell once wrote about me, saying, “No one does ordinary and vulnerable like Noni Hazlehurst.” Yeah, that’s what I thought at first. But then I thought, “that’s OK, because we’re all vulnerable and we’re all ordinary.” Although a lot of our energy is spent trying to prove the opposite.
Play School works because it reflect life as many of us actually live it, and the people on it are real. Shows featuring clips of dogs and cats work because dogs and cats are real and recognisable. They’re spontaneous and truly alive. There’s no fakery, no concocted animosity and no competition. No tricky lighting. Just lots of love.
So here’s my pitch: I’d love a channel that features nothing but stories that inspire us and reassure us and our children that there are good things happening and good people in the world.
I know it’s a lot to ask for, but at the very least a show that tries to redress this overwhelming imbalance; that counters bad news with good; that encourages optimism, not pessimism; that restores our empathy and love for our fellow human beings and the earth; that redefines reality; that heals our hearts.
And, by the way, I’m available.
There are plenty of vigorous advocates for the cause of division. I’m a vigorous advocate for the cause of unity.
This award has turned out to be the most wonderful Mother’s Day present, not least of which because my dear sons get to spend Mother’s Day here with me tonight. Charlie and William.
It also provides the opportunity to reflect on the qualities of mothering that are meaningful.
The ideal mother and father is someone who nurtures and protects us; who tells us stories to help make sense of the world; who gives us non-judgmental acceptance and unconditional love; who teaches us that we’re not special, but we are unique; who encourages our empathetic instincts and teaches us the responsibility that we have to each other.
This is what we long for from our parents. And to be as parents.
Helen Clark, the ex-New Zealand PM, said in her pitch to become the new head of the UN, “Peace really matters to women.” I hope that it really matters to us all and I hope that I can keep telling stories that reflect that.
I just want to quickly thank some people to whom I currently owe a great deal.
The legendary Bevan Lee who created the beautiful story about bigotry and intolerance, with great roles for women, that I’m lucky enough to be a part of – A Place To Call Home. And Brian Walsh, who recognised the audience’s love for the show and he brought it back to life, and who has created an environment and a workplace of equality and inclusion that is a great privilege to be a part of. Thank you both, very much.
Thanks to my manager, Sue Muggleton, and my brother Cameron who used to make me laugh so much I wet the bed.
And to my boys, Charlie and William, for keeping me young, and making me old. I love you both to pieces.
Thank you all for this recognition. I’m very grateful.
Waleed Aly (Gold Logie for Most Popular Personality)
That’s all we have time for. Thank you very much. Good night.
Do not adjust your sets. There’s nothing wrong with the picture. If you’re in the room I’m sure there’s an Instagram filter you could use to turn things to normal. It’ll be fine.
This is happening.
It’s true. Finally a male presenter on commericial TV has won the Gold Logie.
I probably should apologise up front to my kids. My daughter and especially my son. I’m pretty sure he was barracking for Grant Denyer tonight, and it was hard work because I had to stop him voting and the only argument I could come up with was that he wasn’t yet voting age. You can’t vote until you’re old enough to have an unrequited crush on a Home and Away star or something like that. It seemed to work, so thank him for abstaining.
Before I get stuck in in earnest I think it is really, really important to acknowledge… actually I want more to celebrate the extraordinary talents and contributions and achievements of my fellow nominees tonight because they genuinely are a remarkable field.
It only struck me today when I set my mind to it. The thing that struck me about it was that each nominee brilliantly distills some separate piece of Australia and I think it’s an amazing thing, it’s a fantastic thing that that can be a symbol on this night in this way and I’d encourage you to think about that because if you step back and look at all those pieces assembled it is a truly spectacular mosaic and we should really be celebrating that fact.
So congratulations to them for everything they’ve achieved and everything they’re gonna go on to achieve and please know that in no way do I feel that I deserve to be here more than any one of you. I thank you for being a part of the class of 2016 with me because it’s been fantastic to be associated with you.
I don’t… I wanna do my best to keep this as brief as I can because everyone at home wants to go to sleep and everyone in this room has a night that is about to begin and I know you’re all keen to get into some stuff and… no, no I mean like your first carbohydrate in six months or something.
So I’m not gonna do a huge roll call of thanks, but I would, because I didn’t mention them before I do wanna thank my agents particularly. Michael, and especially Jessinta who has I’m sure so many heated arguments with people and I don’t even know they’re happening so I can get about my job and that’s fantastic to have someone in your corner like that. It makes a huge difference and thank you for being so entertaining when you’re doing it.
And I do also want to thank one more time my wife Susan. There’s only one more think I wanna say – I could say a lot more about Susan – but the reality is, and this is just a dirty little secret I’ve carried around for a long time, but if she had my job she’d be better at it than me.
She is sharper, she is wittier, she is funnier, she is infinitely more charming and likable, and I’m really glad she doesn’t have my job because otherwise I definitely wouldn’t have it. The reason she doesn’t is because she has bigger, more important things to do, and everyone who knows her knows that she changes you, and she makes you better. She’s done that in her work, she’s done that in her community work and they don’t give statuettes to people like that, sadly.
But one day if life’s fair they might just give her a statue.
I think it’s fair to say I never anticipated I’d win a Logie. Not in a sort of I’d fall short kind of way but I couldn’t conceive of this – I was more likely to win an AFL grand final in my mind than to win a Logie, and I’m still hoping for that.
That means I’m a little bit gobsmacked but I am hugely appreciative of the audience decided to throw me a bouquet in this way on this night, and I know it’s temporary, and I know I will probably never be here again and I know that one day, probably very soon, I’ll merely be the answer to some obscure trivia question or if I’m really, really lucky the subject of one of those “Where Are They Now” specials that gets show on Sunday afternoons. That’s when they’re shown, definitely in non-ratings period.
If I’m really lucky that’s what will happen but tonight, tonight to know that when you’ve just started a new gig and I know I’m the work experience kid – like I’ve been here five minutes – when you’ve just started a new gig to know the audience has accepted you into their universe is the most wonderful feeling and I do not take that for granted and I want everybody in this room to know that.
I also know, and this is a really important point, I also know that every individual award, whether it be a Brownlow or a Dally M or an award like this is misleading. Every individual award tells a lie of some sort because it’s really about the people that gather around you that delivers these awards to you and I’m incredibly blessed to be surrounded by so many of those people so I’m happy to accept this award but I accept it on behalf of our show – a show that is not afraid to make mistakes by going after something that might be a bit risky, or trying to tell a boring story in a more interesting way and it’s the mistakes that I probably cherish more than anything else. Not that I’m going to tell you what they are but I’m definitely cherish them. I think that’s what makes our show a show.
And I think it is no coincidence that both Carrie and I were nominated tonight. It is no coincidence that our show has been represented on this spot in this way for two years in a row, and the reason that is the case I think is because this is a show that lands not only on people’s television screens but also in people’s hearts and I can’t claim credit for that but I’m hugely proud of it.
And finally I wanna claim this award on behalf of actually a couple of people. People like this guy called Dimitri, who none of you will know, he’s a guy who just came up to me about a week ago and he did something that most people don’t do.
He didn’t come up to me and wish me good luck for tonight. He came up to me and through gritted teeth commanded me to claim this award tonight. And it was a bit scary and I dare not cross him so I’m glad I can look him in the face again, but he communicated something to me and it was that this really, really mattered to him. This really meant something to him.
He didn’t vote, by the way. I didn’t really want to point that out to him at the time. There have been a lot of people in the last week or two that have made it really, really clear to me that me being here right now really matters to them. And it matters to them for a particular reason.
That reason was brought home shudderingly not so long ago actually when someone, who is in this room and I’m not going to use their name that they use in the industry, came up to me and introduced themselves to me and said, “I really hope you win. My name’s Mustafa, but I can’t use that name because I won’t get a job.”
He’s here tonight.
And it matters to people like that that I’m here. And I know – it’s not because of me. I know that.
So to Dimitri and Mustafa and everyone else with an unpronounceable name – I dunno, Waleed – I really just wanna say one thing and this is that I am incredibly humbled that you would even think to invest in me in that way, but I’m also incredibly saddened by it because the truth is you deserve more numerous and more worthy avatars than that and I don’t know if and when that’s gonna happen but if tonight means anything – and I don’t know if it does – but if tonight means anything it’s that the Australian public – our audience – as far as they’re concerned, there’s absolutely no reason why that can’t change.
Thank you very much. Good night. Have a good one. Thank you.
