Reg Grundy by Reg Grundy

‘All I ever wanted to do was to entertain,’ declares Reg Grundy. Like most such apparently simple statements, this needs a bit of unpacking, and that’s what Grundy does in his autobiography. Not quite a rags to riches story, it is the tale of a young man with a thorough knowledge of his market, a sharp eye for business opportunities, and consummate talent as a salesman, and of his journey to become one of the most successful television producers in the world. Entertain he certainly did. Any regular viewer of Australian prime time television during the 1970s and 1980s could hardly have avoided the words ‘Reg Grundy Productions’ in the closing credits of the country’s most popular shows. The list stretches over more than thirty years and five pages of an appendix: Wheel of Fortune, Family Feud, Concentration, Blankety Blanks, Neighbours, Sons and Daughters, The Restless Years, Prisoner, and dozens of others. Sometimes Grundy shows competed with each other in the same time slots on different commercial channels. Grundy was born in Sydney in 1923, an adored only child. He left school at sixteen and, after a five-year stint in the army during World War II, talked himself into a job on Sydney radio station 2SM. A young man with a dark-brown voice, high intelligence, and ambition could soon be up to his ears in radio work at the time, and before long Grundy was calling wrestling and boxing matches at the Sydney Stadium. He also had to read a daily fifteen-minute news bulletin, which he compiled by cutting up the day’s newspapers; host a music-and-chat show for an hour and a half every weekday morning; and perform as a late-night DJ on Saturdays. After a decade in radio, Grundy hit on the idea of a quiz show that involved listeners at home answering questions in excahnge for the right to spin a chocolate wheel and win prizes. In 1957 this was revolutionary, and such was the audience’s unquestioning faith in the possibility of riches delivered by a wheel, they could not see that Wheel of Fortune became a massive hit. Grundy believed the show had a future in television and, in a bridge-burning pattern that was to become characteristic, he resigned from radio in order to work this up. Channel 9 bought the idea, and Grundy became the show’s compère. After a few months, he drifted into the control room and became producer, a job that included personally soliciting potential sponsors to donate prizes. He was so good at this, and enjoyed it all so much, that he rarely appeared in front of a camera again. In 1960 the Broadcasting Control Board decreed that forty per cent of all television programs should be locally made. This meant that all commercial channels – which were not yet networked – needed Australian product, and the cheaper the better. Grundy, who now had three quiz shows on Channel 9, was quick to realise that, in his words, it was certainly a good time to be an independent producer. By March 1972 the Grundy organisation was producing more television shows than anyone else in Australia. In that month alone, Grundy turned out 156 half-hour and twenty-three one-hour shows – quizzes, game shows, serials, dramas – with thirteen of them running on forty-one of the forty-eight stations in the country. A sizeable portion of the book is taken up with Grundy’s attempts to sell his quiz and game programs in the United States, surely one of the great examples of reuniting coals and Newcastle. Success in this huge market obviously meant, and means, a lot to him, and eventually he succeeded, as he did in the United Kingdom and about twenty other countries. Along the way he married, had a daughter, was divorced, and then married the love of his life, television personality Joy Chambers. By all accounts, they are living happily ever after in Bermuda. As is no doubt obvious from this summary, the second half of the book isn’t quite as interesting as the first. This is not surprising: the Sturm und Drang of Making It is usually the best part in books like these. But I certainly don’t mean to suggest that the book is dull. Grundy writes in the kind of natural, self-deprecating voice that leads one to suspect the presence of a tape recorder at his elbow, and he has a nicely dry way with an anecdote. He comes across as a good bloke. It is easy to see the cleverness, determination, and attention to detail that have contributed to his enormous success. Grundy, or perhaps his editor, has had the good idea of interpolating the words of other people, commenting on aspects of the entertainment business, giving another view of certain episodes, describing Reg, or just telling another good story or two. These other personalities – especially Joy Chambers and Grundy project development manager Reg Watson – are shrewd, likeable, and often funny. Their presence gives the book a freshness and variety of viewpoint that is too often lacking in stories of this kind. Given what a good and interesting read this book is, it is a pity that its publishers seem to have been so half-hearted about it. The cover, which shows a black and white photograph of the young Reg and the famous wheel of fortune, may be easily identifiable, but is one of the most boring I have seen for some time. The internal layout, with too many sections beginning on a left-hand page, looks amateurish too. And surely, surely, somebody could have come up with a less literal-minded title. A couple of niggles: it’s probably too much to expect in an autobiography, but more social history, a sense of Australia’s radio and television history pre-Grundy, would have enriched this story even further. And also – again inevitably – not enough emphasis is given to Grundy’s enormous importance in developing the television industry in this country. Making a point of this is certainly not Grundy’s style, but something should have been said, perhaps in a foreword by someone else. The fact remains that, along with the work of fellow independent producer Hector Crawford, Grundy’s shows were important in developing a whole generation of writers, actors, and producers. For almost the first time, they had regular employment, and a large number of actors went on to become Australian household names. Many writers of television drama and plays will tell you they learned the basics of their craft thanks to stints on Neighbours or Prisoner or Sons and Daughters. These opportunities are no longer available. Australian radio and television were mad, chaotic, and gloriously ad hoc industries, which to some extent made themselves up as they went along. Grundy’s book gives a clear picture of that world, as well as being an important contribution to the history of Australian mass entertainment. It is important to have such stories told before they fade entirely from history and memory, and the more the better. This is a solid and most enjoyable addition to the field.

Jacqueline Kent

From the New Issue

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Pursuit of the New: Louise Hanson-Dyer, publisher and collector edited by Kerry Murphy and Jennifer Hill

Vincent Namatjira edited by Vincent Namatjira

Fat Chance: Journalism poems by Kent MacCarter

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