|
Arcade holds the dubious distinction of being the
most notorious Australian soap opera disaster of all time. For years after
its brief run jokes about its purported shoddy production values, terrible
acting and laughably short life were repeated with glee.
Produced
by the key creative people behind Number 96, Arcade was devised as a fun romp that
examined the personal lives and interactions of the various shopkeepers in a Sydney shopping mall.
However the series was abruptly cancelled once the ratings came out to reveal
that pitifully few viewers were tuning in. Thereafter name Arcade quickly emerged as a byword for over-hyped
but inept entertainments that laughably failed to deliver on their promises.
The
biggest joke was that the show was taken off the air after just two weeks
by the network, horrified as they were by the dismal ratings, scathing
reviews, and the embarrassing production values on display. In truth there
was a little more to the story.
Despite
the show’s reputation, by using various barometers of measurement one quickly
finds other Australian soap opera failures that seem more disastrous. The Unisexers, a 1975 daily strip serial also
produced by the Number 96 company, was a critical disaster
on Channel Nine whose low ratings prompted its swift cancellation and removal
from the schedules after just three weeks and 16 episodes.
Punishment (1981),
apparently dismissed from the outset as merely a cash-in copy of the proven Prisoner format, went to air on Channel
Ten buried on Saturday evenings and was taken off well before all its 26
episodes had screened. (Although in this case the Punishment continued and the male
prison drama would later return to play out its stockpiled episodes, albeit
over the summer non-ratings period.) Nevertheless the question remains, why
was it that Arcade became the big joke?
Arcade had its genesis when the Ten Network,
seeking to increase their quota of Australian drama content, devised a new
one-hour series to be titled Centaur with a horseracing and big
business theme. The pilot fell through at the last minute when ATV0 Melbourne, part of the Ten Network, withdrew support
for the project.
At this
juncture the director of programming at Sydney’s
Ten10, Pal Cleary, suddenly remembered an old outline
for a serial set in a shopping mall. Mentioning the idea to Ten10 General Manager Ian Kennon
while they were on their way to lunch, Kennon
suddenly got very excited by the resurrected idea, and promptly called a
meeting with various executives that very afternoon to discuss this brilliant
concept.
Kennon
and Cleary’s initial brainstorming session over lunch involved various love
affairs amongst the shopkeepers, and a brothel with a peephole through which
the adjacent photographer shot pornographic films. However as Cleary told TV Week these bold ideas were soon tempered.
“When the excitement wore off we realised, of course,
that none of this shock stuff would work - as Number 96
found in its dying months. Society is too permissive now for that sort of
material. Besides, it was totally impractical for an early evening timeslot.”
[1]
However
key station executives were sold on the general shopping mall idea. Cleary
contacted Bill Harmon, one-time producer of Number 96, hiring him as special consultant
on the new series for three months. Harmon quickly enlisted Number 96 creator and writer David Sale, and that show’s story editor Johnny
Whyte who jumped on board once he had freed himself from a commitment to US soap opera
production company Procter and Gamble.
Sale and Whyte devised the characters,
making them larger than life with a comedy spin. There was the fat girl and
the skinny guy who ran the gym, a man-hungry Zsa-Zsa
Gabor type, and the Chinese family running a café serving only English-style
cuisine. Like Number 96 the show would mix comedy
elements with drama and end each installment on a cliffhanger. [2] However the makers of the show
were keen to highlight that the programs would also have their differences.
Said a spokesman for the production:
“Whereas
Number 96 relied, at least initially, on shock tactics
- sex in various forms, nudity and drugs - Arcade will have more comedy and warmth” [3]
In fact
the new show would have an unusually large proportion of comedy. Bill Harmon
revealed that Arcade would be half drama and half comedy. Citing
the highly successful comedy segments in Number 96 featuring characters like Les and
Norma, and Dorrie, Herb and Flo, Harmon noted that
“though they were not the main parts of Number 96, they were among the most
popular.” [4]
Unlike Number 96, however, there would be no overt sexual activity or nudity. [5] David Sale said that “Obviously
people will fall in love but there won’t be any overt sex. What starts on
camera we can presume continues off-camera, we just
don’t dwell on it. The public is sick of sex on TV.” [6]
As had
been demonstrated with Class of ‘74 on Seven and The Young Doctors on Nine, catching viewers early
was shown to help bolster the viewing figures for the programs that followed,
and Arcade tried to tap into this crucial
early evening timeslot. The mixed demographic of adults and children viewing
at that time called for a lightweight serial set in a public locale where a
mixed and varied bunch of characters could congregate.
The
network had high hopes for its lightweight new Number 96 for the 1980s, and TEN10 spokesman Tom Greer hopefully declared that “Arcade will be to 1980 what Number 96 was to its day.” [7]
Various other members of the Number 96 alumni were put to work on the series. For the ongoing series David Sale and
Johnny Whyte headed the writing team. [8] Nancy Cash, widow of Number 96 producer Don Cash, as one of the Arcade scriptwriters. [9]
Former Number 96 production supervisor Kevin Powell, son of British film director
Michael Powell, set to work interviewing 1500 actors in Melbourne,
Sydney, Brisbane
and Adelaide
to fill the roles of the show’s twenty-one regular characters. In an unusual
step, the show’s makers, in their race against the clock to get production
underway in time for the show’s scheduled premiere, had enlisted TV Week magazine in casting the regular roles. [10]
An
article in the magazine printed the show’s casting notes and listed the
regular characters sought for the series. Producer Bill Harmon noted that a
mix of experienced actors, and actors with limited experience such as those
in suburban and country dramatic and musical societies would be welcomed.
Prospective cast members were asked to urgently contact their local Network
Ten affiliate. [11]
At the
time production began, Whyte described the new show as “a lovely, flexible
idea, with a great cast.” [12] The cast included were several
experienced professionals with regular television roles under their belt.
Popular
singer and entertainer Lorrae Desmond joined
versatile musical star Peggy Toppano playing
mismatched sisters. Mike Dorsey who played popular comedy character Daddy
McDonald in Number 96 for three-and-a-half years would play a
gruff former navy man. Comedian Syd Heylen who had appeared as a fast talking sports
presenter in The Box
was teamed with Aileen Britton whose previous roles included that of Norma’s
imperious mother in Number 96.
Others
such as Patrick Ward, Danny Adcock, comedian Garth Meade, and Olga Tamara,
had done television guest roles. The the cast was
filled out by hopeful newcomers. [13]
Before
the show’s debut Mike Dorsey said that he was “very excited about Arcade. Three years after the demise of Number 96 I still get ‘Hello Daddy’ wherever I go. This should give me a chance
to break that up.” Another of the better-known names in the cast, Lorrae Desmond, said she was happy with being cast
against Peggy Toppano. “Peg is my best friend;
we’re like soul sisters.” Cast would reportedly earn an average of $420 a
week, for as long as the show runs. The program’s budget was reported as
$80,000 to $90,000 a week. [14]
Unfortunately,
in their haste to get to get the program on air for a planned 20 January 1980
premiere, the show’s makers took the unusual course of not bothering to make
a pilot. Production began - one week behind schedule - in the last week of
November 1979. There were three different camera units, under the direction
of former The Young Doctors director Mike Murphy, and Tony
Nielsen and Howard Scrivener who had both worked on the Grundy Produced,
Network Ten serial The Restless Years. [15]
Indeed
the new production was based in a studio adjacent to that used by The Restless Years, and photographs of actors from the two
programs mingling in the common green room were frequently used in TV Week publicity.
It was a
crucial time for Ten with Rupert Murdoch at the time gaining control of the
Melbourne and Sydney stations of the Network. [16] Initial publicity for Arcade
highlighted the program’s lavish budget and extensive sets - basically an
entire mall recreated in the studio. The new serial was given a generous $3
Million budget. [17] The show was boldly described as
Ten’s first “big gun” in the 1980 ratings battle, and as “Australian
television’s most ambitious production yet.” [18]
Arcade debuted with a feature length
premiere episode at 7.30 pm on Sunday 20 January 1980 - several weeks before
the official ratings surveys were due to commence. [19]
This opening
installment is enjoyable and the storylines, while lightweight, move at a
brisk pace. The opener deftly introduced the range of characters and the
arcade locale, and sets up a few ongoing story situations. The interplay
amongst the regular characters is fun; the jokes and several of the light
comedy skits are moderately funny.
However,
it must be said that some of the opening scenes are awkwardly scripted and
acted. Some performances seem stiff and mannered, with exchanges between
characters at times reminiscent of a television infomercial. Likewise the
script’s attempts to hurriedly explain the characters’ back stories during
the early scenes seem stilted and unnatural.
Arriving
for work at The Bookworm newsagency is the brassy and straight-talking Molly
Sparks (Lorrae
Desmond), accompanied by her gossipy and unbearably prissy
co-worker sister Miriam Buxton (Peggy Toppano).
Miriam has “temporarily” moved in with Molly in her apartment above the arcade,
leaving Molly’s exuberant but irresponsible son Joey Fellows (Greg
Bepper) on the couch. The thrice-married
Molly must contend with Miriam’s fussiness and disapproving manner, while
Joey wants her to romance the arcade manager Mr. Henderson (Allan
Penney) and convince the businessman to appoint him as the new
assistant manager.
Toby’s café is run by Si Wan Soo
(Lucy
Taylor) and her adult son Phillip Soo (Raymond
Nock). They are originally from Hong Kong but have long lived in Australia.
Phillip speaks with an Australian accent and they absolutely regard
themselves as “Australian” through and through.
As the story opens they have just been joined by Si Wan’s long-lost daughter, the beautiful Mee Ling (Sinan Leong). Mee
Ling appeared after her father’s financial ruin and suicide in their native
Hong Kong. Mee Ling considers herself
much too refined to help out in the family café business and is indulged by
Si Wan, so Phillip, a competitive swimmer, is stuck with all the work leaving
little time for training.
Fortunately Phillip still manages to attend the odd
session, and Nock, a dancer with Bruce Lee-type good looks (and athletic
physique), was regularly shown in his Speedos for the training scenes.
However his trainer Frank Shaw (Dennis Grosvenor) is adamant that Phillip
must spend much more time training or jeopardise his chances of competing in
the Olympics.
Meanwhile blond
and busty Magda Yokochek
(Anne Semler), the outrageous Hungarian proprietor
of the arcade’s gift shop, bounces in well after most of the other stores
have opened. Magda wears a revealing low-cut
leopard print dress and pink feather boa, explaining that she is fresh from
an all-night party where she was belle of the ball - until all the men went
home with their wives.
Babbling Magda speaks in a strong accent at a rapid rate and calls
everyone “Darlink!” Like many characters from Number 96 she has trouble with her English and frequently gets words and
pronunciations confused.
The Aristocrat dry cleaning depot was run by the haughty
and imperious Joyce Blair (Aileen Britton) always recounting bits of
sage advise that her late “Mumsy”
gave. Joyce was contrasted by her knockabout husband Walter (Syd Heylen). Walter was a secret drinker whose sly
nips were perhaps his way of coping with his affected and boasting wife
endlessly reminiscing about her glory days of being raised in Toorak society.
Joyce is horrified when a customer reports the loss of
$500 from the clothes he left for cleaning, demanding recompense. To raise
the $500 and keep the police out of it Joyce reluctantly sells her brooch to Magda, who swiftly sells it on at a large mark-up. For
her portrayal of Joyce, Britton enacted a carbon copy repeat of her Number 96 character of Norma’s imperious mother. Heylen was his rascally self as Walter.
Also in
the arcade is Pendleton’s Heath Studio, a gym owned by the bitchy, grasping
Iris Pendleton (Maggie Stewart). Iris’s body builder
husband Mike recently died leaving his share in the business to his weedy
brother Norman Pendleton
(Garth
Meade), so the resentful Iris is left sharing the gym with an
unwanted co-owner.
The gym’s
receptionist suddenly quits leaving Norman
running the show while the extremely dim gym instructor Len Crosby (Bill
Charlton) is no help, and when a furious Iris arrives the
place is in turmoil. The replacement receptionist sent by the agency, Consuela McPhee
(Coral Kelly before becoming Prisoner story editor Coral Drouyn), is sure they wont hire her as she is rather
overweight, but desperate for work she reports for duty nonetheless.
Norman, a sympathetic comedy character
with a Charles Hawtrey manner and physique and a
vocal manner somewhat similar to Number 96’s Aldo, does hire her and the two
strike up a friendship. Puny Norman rebuffs Consuela’s constant self-deprecating
remarks about her weight (“Inside this fat lady is an even fatter lady trying
to get out!”) and winces in pain at the jolly handshakes of the big girl who
doesn’t know her own strength.
Meanwhile
Iris is furious on meeting the rotund new receptionist, and demands that Norman fire her
immediately. Later it is revealed that Iris is conducting an affair with the
muscular but dumb Len and she reveals to him her plot to oust Norman from the
business.
Tina
Marshall (Christine Harris, in her first television role) was the
wheelchair-bound daughter of Vic Marshall (Mike Dorsey) and they ran the
Flashback video game parlour together. She was frustrated by his constant fussing and
overprotective nature, insisting that she could easily deal with the sometimes
rough crowd their business attracts.
Meanwhile
the bright and breezy Kitty Adams (Joy
Miller), a former nightclub singer who runs Kitty’s Record Bar, is
receiving visits from a mysterious stranger. Each meeting with this man seems
to end in an argument, as Miriam takes delight in reporting.
Finally
Di Smith (Olga Tamara) works with her conceited but somewhat dim boyfriend,
male model Craig Carmichael - real name was Stan Stuart (Patrick Ward), in his sports store Surf
‘n’ Ski. She soon suspected Craig’s newly arrived brother Robbie Stuart (Jeremy
Kewley) of being the hitchhiker murderer
when she finds a woman’s scarf in the pocket of his jacket, which is stained
with what is identified by Joyce as blood.
Di
discovers the murders have occurred (all off camera) in locations along
Robbie’s route, so that night she sneaks down and searches his car in the
darkened parking garage. For the show’s first cliffhanger, a terrified Di is
confronted by Robbie in the car park.
It had
been hoped that the program’s early-season premiere would allow the series to
slowly gain a following before critical and ratings scrutiny began.
Unfortunately, the series nevertheless received scathing reviews from
critics. John-Michael Howson in his TV Week column said of Arcade that “it is, in case you do not know, the first series in the world to be written in shorthand,
speed read by the actors and directed by an electric typewriter.” [20]
The
review by The Sydney Morning Herald columnist Clement Semmler observed that “absurdity is heaped on bathos” and
that the “acting is as dreadful as the script”… with one exception. Clement Semmler praises Anne Semler in
her comedy role of Magda who sells “knicker knockeries” from her
gift shop. For this reviewer hers is a “bravura performance in the best
brassy comedienne tradition. Her interludes with Mr
Sponge, the taxman, are hilarious.” [21]
In her
review in The Sun newspaper in Melbourne
a few days after the premiere, Michele Moloney
focused on the Network’s failure to provide a preview tape of Arcade for the press. This was a situation, she
said, that prompted reviewers to “fear the worse, get very cross, or start
looking up the venom dictionary”. A Ten spokesman had explained that the
decision to not present a preview of Arcade was due to the Network’s desire
to preserve one element of mystery in Ten’s much vaunted new lineup, and
because of the technical problems in running the three initial installments
together for the feature length premiere. [22]
Of the
opening episode itself, Moloney described the
overall sense of déjà vu in the proceedings and a script that was characterised by the repetition of banal
trivia. The characters, she felt, “hover between being one dimensional and
four dimensional […] a few need toning down, a few need toning up, but there
are still some pleasantly played parts around in it.” [23]
Moloney
singles-out cast members Lorrae Desmond and Anne Semler for praise, and hopes that in time the remaining
cast members might develop into identifiable characters. Among her viewing
recommendations for the evening the review appeared is the US soap opera
parody series Soap; Arcade does not get a look in. [24]
The
ninety minute Arcade premiere ran past 8.30 pm when films
traditionally commenced, meaning the opening of Arcade clashed with the start of the feature films presented by Seven and
Nine. Michele Moloney commented that watching Arcade meant missing the start of Get Carter on Seven. Age of Consent, a 1969 Australian-produced
feature film directed by Michael Powell on which Kevin Powell also worked,
commenced at 8.30 pm on Channel Nine in Melbourne that night, its first half
hour also clashing with the final third of the Arcade premiere. And having its premiere
episode broadcast in Melbourne up against the debut of Kingswood Country, a new situation comedy series from the makers of the highly popular Naked Vicar Show, probably did not help much either.
Continuing
the day after the premiere, Arcade screened as five, half-hour
episodes each week. Episodes were programmed each week night at 7.00 pm in Adelaide and Sydney,
and at 6.30 pm in Brisbane and Melbourne.
Each
episode opened with an aerial shot of a large motel and shopping centre
complex in the Sydney
north-shore suburb of Cremorne with traffic
bustling by, while the rousing disco-infused theme sung by Doug Parkinson
could be heard. The song was written by Mike Perjanik
and featured metaphorical lyrics contemplating a faded love affair, likening
the apparently complacent lovers to people maybe “just walking through an
arcade”. With its upbeat, funky sound the song is certainly fun, if not quite
MacArthur Park.
The
closing credits sequence, like that of Number 96, helped visually to place each
group of characters in their main habitat. In the Arcade closer, video panels running over a shot of the building exterior flashed
up shots of each shop front, and as this occurred
the actors who played the characters who worked there were credited.
The
show’s ongoing storylines focused on the daily activities of the shopkeepers,
who were constantly in and out of each other’s shops for friendly chats or to
gossip. Many scenes opened with a smiling bit-part customer being ushered out
with a “… and if your fiancé doesn’t like the colour
bring it back and we’ll exchange it” before the shopkeeper in question
launches into their latest bit of drama. Often this would be a complaint
about the long absence of the retail assistant supposed to be on duty: with
the convoluted plots and characters rushing out at odd times there were many
absences and frequent “can you just mind my shop” requests of other
shopkeepers. Most of the shopkeepers lived in apartments above the retail
complex, making the similarities to Number 96
all the greater.
As the
storyline unfolded Robbie was quickly cleared when another murder occurs and
he finally has an alibi. Magda creates a
bureaucratic nightmare for her tax advisor Mr
Sponge (Brian Moll) when he arrives to inspect her books (and her “assets”).
Later she was revealed as a man-hungry illegal immigrant hoping to land a
(wealthy) husband to secure permanent residency.
Meanwhile
Iris runs the gym as if it were Ewing Oil,
and has Len act as her spy there when she isn’t around. Norman decides to
retain the services of Consuela and their friendship develops. Nevertheless
Consuela worries she’ll lose
her job as Iris harbours a strong dislike of her.
Molly Sparks is now attempting to thwart Henderson’s plans to invite her on a
“dirty” weekend away at a beach house. Her sister Miriam gasps and swoons
with disapproval at the very idea.
The mysterious stranger who had been visiting record bar
proprietor Kitty Adams is revealed as her estranged husband Duncan (Danny
Adcock), attempting to rekindle their failed marriage. It is learned that
Kitty has a brain damaged child in an institution. The child is introduced
via a disturbing scene shot from the unseen child’s point of view using a
distorted camera lens - apparently to denote the mental condition - as he
throws a tantrum during a visit.
Later Kitty allows Duncan
to move in to her apartment. Then, in a psychedelic dream sequence with a
flashback fight and surreal close-ups of coldly chanting doctors, Duncan is revealed to
have beaten her up while she was pregnant, causing the child’s brain damaged
condition.
Viewers
also learn that Vic Marshall formerly served in the Merchant Navy, which
perhaps explains his seaman’s persona complete with greying beard and Irish accent. In the
opening episodes he continues to fuss over Tina.
The
device of having a character in a wheelchair was not a new one on Australian
serials: after Bellbird
regular Louise Phillips became a paraplegic after a road accident she
returned to that show, with the story rewritten to explain why she was now in
a wheelchair. Phillips later played a regular role in Cop Shop and her character got married and
had a baby in that show’s storyline.
In any
event Arcade’s Tina rang true as a character.
Her wry observations of how she was treated, including the fact that the
various shopkeepers frequently rely on her to mind their unattended stores -
with the conspicuous exception of the gym - seemed natural rather than
preachy.
Tina also
tolerated Vic’s overprotective and interfering ways, although with the dramas
of the arcade he perhaps had good reason. In one dramatic cliffhanger Tina is
tipped out of her wheelchair by three thugs robbing their business when she
is doing the evening shift alone. The dramatic scene ends with an apparently
unconscious Tina sprawled beside her upturned chair as the camera cuts in on
close-ups of the wheelchair’s spinning wheel, while a heartbeat and Space
Invaders blips and explosions are heard on the sound track.
In a
later episode one of the robbers Teddy Pullen (Martin Portus)
returns, and takes her to an ocean side walking track where the cliffhanger
suggests he may be planning to tip her over the cliff. In fact he is taking
her to where the stolen cash is stashed; he apologises and turns over his share of the
take.
Soon Phillip and Si Wan managed to get Mee
Ling pulling her weight in the café so the swimming training was back on.
Phillip and Mee Ling soon notice an intense and
forbidden sexual attraction, which as brother and sister they struggle to
resist.
Other dramas unfold as Di is revealed to be keeping secret
the fact she is daughter of incredibly wealthy widower Charles Maddox (Max Osbiston) and has organised her father’s company to hire
Craig for major modelling contracts. When Craig becomes conceited over his
success she is tempted to reveal that she is actually the one securing the
big jobs for him.
Tina meanwhile develops a romantic interest in Robbie,
even though Joey insists he is actually a “poof”. And in the latest set of
Machiavellian schemes being orchestrated at the Health Studio, Iris finds she
has fallen pregnant to Len and plots to pass the baby off as her late
husband’s to get her hands on his estate. Iris later starts an affair with Craig
when he organises the “Miss Healthy Bod”
competition through the gym. Meanwhile Mee Ling
accepts that the illicit union with Phillip can never be, and so agrees to an
arranged marriage to the much older Chang Li (Adrian
Bernotti).
Magda Busts Out
Of the
cast, actor Anne Semler who played the boisterous
socialite Magda with piled-up blond hair and a
series of cleavage-revealing costumes, seemed to
attract most of the publicity. Semler was featured
in the show’s only TV Week cover, which pictured her in a
form-fitting bustier while fellow cast member Syd Heylen casts an approving eye over her
generously-proportioned chest.
Of her
role in the series Semler admitted that it was hard
work.
“Magda is a hard character to play because of the accent
and I have to learn every word of every line thoroughly. It is a totally
exhausting and draining role.” [25]
Meanwhile,
behind the scenes, Semler threw production
schedules into chaos with a mystery illness that was ultimately cured by rest
and fasting. [26] No sooner was this illness in
hand when she suffered a bloody gash to her foot during a scene where she was
to trip on Tina’s wheelchair. Unwilling to upset the taping schedule again, Semler was forced to hobble through taping with a
bandaged foot. Unfortunately the cut became infected, and when the next day’s
taping called for a scene where she is tossed into Sydney Harbour,
a doctor was on hand to redress the wound after the dunking. “My horoscope
predicted January and February wouldn’t be good for my health,” said Semler. “I can’t wait to see what March holds for me!” [27]
Arcade Fizzles
Fortunately
March would not bring news of further failing health for Anne Semler, however the prognosis for her show was not so
good. Arcade’s ratings came in and they were disastrous:
the program was rating as low as 7, not only lower than all of its commercial
rivals but also trailing the ABC evening news bulletin. [28]
Reports
of new characters soon to make their debuts had apparently done little to
provoke interest in the serial. Coming in were Susie Blair, played by popular
actor Tracy Mann, who returned to her parents Joyce and Walter after fleeing
a religious cult.
Actor Robina Beard was to come in as Grace Horridge,
a ladylike English woman employed by the health studio. Beard was best known
as Madge the “you’re soaking in it!” manicurist in the television
advertisements for Palmolive Dishwashing Liquid, and for an eight week stint
as Flo’s daughter Raylene in Number 96.
Lillian Gasinskayay, famous as the woman who defected by swimming
from a Russian ship in Sydney Harbour wearing only
a red bikini, made an appearance as a friend of Magda,
providing tips on how to stay in Australia. Gasinskayay
had just posed nude for the men’s magazine Australian Penthouse,
participated in Network Ten special So You Want to
be a Centrefold, and
had recently made a non-speaking appearance in The Young Doctors. In her Arcade role Gasinskayay not only got to speak, but
got to deliver her dialogue in Russian. [29]
An
increase in the sexual situations in the later episodes proved to be a case
of too little too late. By the end there were more affairs, and more nudity.
Joey horrified Miriam in one comedy scene in their flat where he was shown fully
naked from behind.
The “Miss
Healthy Bod” competition featured several young women parading around
in their swimsuits. Then, in one of the final episodes that went to air,
Phillip’s apparent suicide bid by stripping off and resignedly swimming off
into the surf featured Raymond Nock in a full back nude scene in
mid shot on the sunny beach.
Arcade Closes
Unfortunately
viewers never got to see how these cast additions or the increasingly turgid
storylines panned out. Network executives decided to cancel the series on
Thursday 28 February after the Melbourne
ratings confirmed what the Sydney
figures showed: the vast majority of people were not watching. Cast and crew
were summoned to Channel Ten on the Saturday and told individually by the
director of production John Davies that the series had been cancelled. The
cast had been on run-of-show contracts which meant that once the show ended,
so did their pay. [30]
So
Arcade closed its doors for good. The series was
also quickly taken off the air starting Monday 3 March and replaced by
repeats of M*A*S*H in Sydney,
while Hogan’s Heroes took its place in Melbourne. Of the program’s demise
co-creator David Sale stated “That’s show business. I don’t believe in inquests,
I think they should be confined to dead bodies, not dead shows. It’s over,
and that’s it.” [31]
Although
famously remembered as the show taken off after just two
weeks (an error repeated in reference book Moran’s Guide to Australian TV Series, by Albert Moran), the series had
actually lasted on-air for considerably longer. After the ninety minute
premiere, in Sydney episodes of the series were screened each weeknight for
six weeks. According to television schedules in Melbourne
newspaper The Sun, after the feature length opener Arcade
also had a run of six weeks
in Melbourne,
with the final episode screening there on Friday, 29 February 1980. On the
show’s demise cast member Raymond Nock observed that “only 29 of the 55
episodes we made went to air” [32] while the National Screen and
Sound Archive has episodes numbered up to 49 in their vault.
While
many shows that fail to achieve high ratings on Australian television return
to play out the stockpiled episodes over the summer non-ratings period, Arcade never made any such return. How ever many
actual episodes were fully completed by the producers, after the series first
left the air it never returned and the unscreened installments would never be
broadcast.
It seems
difficult to pin point what was precisely wrong with the serial. Of the
show’s failure, a contemporary report said that TV critics believed the
“unattractive setting of a shopping centre, overdrawn characters, banal
scripts and inadequate direction might have had something to do with it.” The
same report claimed that after the first batch of episodes of the serial had
been completed executives realised the standard was
below par and ordered immediate improvements. However, the changes came too
late to save the series. [33]
Various
reports in the years following have continued to ridicule the cast, the
acting, and the program’s technical standard. (Moran’s Guide to Australian TV Series says that “Most of the cast in
the ill-fated venture are best forgotten.” [34]) However an actual review of episodes
reveals that these are not substantially below par given prevailing standards
for the genre.
Perhaps
with biggest weakness in the serial was that the ongoing storylines were
skewed towards light comedy and farce, with not enough engrossing drama. Perhaps
the light comedy would have worked better if developed later as a minor
element within the context of drama storylines, rather than as the main focus
of the narrative.
The
makers of the show followed the Number 96 formula by including several
outwardly comic characters. However they made the mistake here of settling
for too many characters who, while being appealing, were little more than
silly caricatures.
The Number 96 comedy characters seemed somewhat real, were well-rounded
personalities, and were well-played. Arcade’s comedy characters such as the muscular but dumb Len, the prissy
Miriam, the ebullient Magda, and the superior
Joyce, all seemed to be basically one-joke characters. It seems difficult to
imagine any one them carrying an engrossing ongoing storyline along on their
own. At least Arcade’s ridiculously wicked schemer Iris always
seemed to have a convoluted new plan under way, which added intrigue. Still,
she certainly was no Maggie Cameron, the bitch from Number 96.
Nevertheless
the cast all give energetic performances and many leave a pleasing
impression. Appealing cast members include Christine Harris as the chirpy
Tina, Lorrae Desmond who bubbled along as Molly,
Greg Bepper as the bright and exuberant Joey,
Jeremy Kewley as young Robbie - probably the most
normal person in the show, Tracy Mann as the dry and sardonic Susie, and
Raymond Nock as the handsome and athletic Phillip who despite his Hong Kong
heritage was Australian as they come. It was also nice to see Mike Dorsey
playing straight after years of his regimented comedy character in Number 96,
while the mismatched friendship between the characters of Consuela (Coral Drouyn) and Norman (Garth Meade) worked well.
Perhaps a
crucial factor in the show’s failure was that the show featured too few
scenes in the characters’ homes. While other soaps have succeeded by
depicting the characters in a workplace, such as Cop Shop and The Young Doctors, those shows succeeded by
presenting a team of characters not only all working for the same workplace,
but also married to a tough and demanding job and in an environment where the
team of colleagues became a de facto family with its members
supporting and looking out for each other. Arcade’s string of small, separate stores connected only by location
presented a flimsy and fragmented situation, and one not strong enough to
sustain an on-going serial.
The
makers of the show made several obvious story borrowings from Number 96 - including the opening plotline featuring a Pantyhose Murderer-type serial killer, the comedy surrounding a planned saucy weekend in
a beach house, Magda muddling the English language,
and dim Len taking metaphors literally. It is understandable that tried and
tested ideas would be reused, but it seems pretty pointless to launch a
serial killer mystery where none of the victims are characters in the show,
all the murders occur elsewhere and off screen, and where its placement at
the opening of the storyline means viewers don’t know the characters so
barely care that the single suspect might actually be a killer.
The
show’s technical standard was fairly average for a soap opera (and an
improvement over The Young Doctors). There was the odd stumble over
dialogue but this was a common occurrence on many Australian soap operas up
until that time.
The
serial mostly stuck to the established visual grammar of the genre, and the
general look of the show seemed acceptable. Occasionally some rather striking
visual effects were used in Arcade, such as the flashbacks and
point-of-view shots previously mentioned. One of the final episodes to be
broadcast introduced new dramas for Susie one night when she received a
mysterious telephone call from the leader of the cult she escaped. As she
drifts into a trance we hear creepy music as the cult leader, played by
Vincent Gil and shown in silhouette through a wicker chair and swathed in
circles of cigarette smoke, chillingly issues her new command: to enlist
Teddy Pullen into the cult.
These
scenes do seem rather more camp than dramatic, but other serials around the
same general period, such as Prisoner and Sons and Daughters, also occasionally featured
similar outlandish flourishes.
Overall Arcade’s
strong competition in a crucial timeslot seems the critical factor in its
swift failure. In Sydney
it went up against current affairs program Willesee at Seven on Seven and the highly popular
serial The Sullivans on Nine. The show’s Melbourne timeslot had the series running
against the news services on channels Seven and Nine.
Ten had
explicitly said of the program’s format and timeslot that “it is a strategy
for alternate programming in that slot.” [35] Unfortunately, jostling for
position in a general timeslot where popular Channel Nine serials The Young Doctors (at 6.00 pm) and The Sullivans (7.00 pm) already provided an
alternative to established news and current affairs programs, the silly
lightweight comedy drama of Arcade never made in-roads.
In an era
before the internet and multiple TVs in many homes, any household that
watched The Young Doctors and The Sullivans (and many did) would likely
choose to view at least one news service, and those available were up against
Arcade.
In
reporting the show’s demise TV Week noted that the show had been
panned by critics. [36] Young cast member Christine
Harris told the magazine that “All the cast took it well when they were told
production would end because of ratings but I felt it needed a little more
time to develop. We were given a torrid time by critics right from the start
so it wasn’t easy. I was disappointed because exciting things were about to
develop with my character and I was really looking forward to them.” [37]
Christine
Harris would continue on the soap route. She subsequently enjoyed the ongoing
roles of Dolly Davies in The Young Doctors, Amy Carson in Carson’s Law, and Pippa
Reynolds in Prisoner.
Anne Semler, the cast member who had generated perhaps the most
publicity, expressed relief at the show’s demise.
“Arcade was getting a bit too much for me. It was
just taking over my life. I have never worked so hard. I’m not all that keen
on TV work and I don’t believe you should do anything you don’t like. I prefer
stage - you give out and receive back from the audience - but with TV you
just give out and don’t get anything back.” [38]
Syd Heylen admitted he was disappointed by the show’s cancellation,
telling TV Week that “I had a false start. I thought
it was my big break but I was wrong. It was a big let down for me - I’m a
club worker and the exposure of a national show was good.” Heylen hoped to continue his Arcade “husband” persona in a new The Honeymooners-type situation comedy series he was
trying to develop. [39]
No such
show eventuated, however Heylen quickly fell on his
feet with a long-running comedy role in medical drama series A Country Practice. In that series his character Cookie was a
boisterous bachelor in an on-going Odd Couple-type double act that endured for
many years.
The more
experienced members of the cast faced the cancellation with equanimity. Peggy
Toppano said that “I was more or less expecting it,
but that is an old pro’s point of view. I think some of the younger ones were
a bit shocked and stunned. I’m sad because it did employ a lot of people.” [40]
Mike
Dorsey commented that “Once the ratings were out we knew the writing was on
the wall. The mood after we were told was a mixture of regret that we
couldn’t get the show off the ground, and relief. It was a heavy slog in
terms of hours and volume of work.” Lorrae Desmond
said “It’s a show business rule. If a show isn’t doing business, whether it
be stage or TV, you don’t play. My lifestyle won’t change much. I’ll just
have more time to do the things I used to do.” [41] The following year she was an
original regular cast member of A Country Practice, and would stay with that series
more than a decade.
Cast
member Raymond Nock, who was from a family of dancers and had danced in stage
musical A Chorus Line and on television variety shows,
went straight back to his old regular job teaching jazz ballet, tap and disco
dancing classes. [42]
Several
months after Arcade closed, cast members Olga Tamara
and Joy Miller were cast in the 1980 stage musical production of The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. Miller had three or four minor
roles in the musical, one as a whore. Her main task, however, was acting as
understudy to the show’s star, Lorraine Bayly.
Meanwhile it was Olga Tamara’s first acting job since Arcade,
and she had worked as a waitress until the role of Angel the whore came up. [43]
Olga
Tamara subsequently played a two week guest role in The Young Doctors during the day while performing on the stage
at night.
“Young Doctors role is only for two weeks. It’s a lot of fun and the people are beaut. I’m hoping to get more TV work during the day here
and, when Best Little Whorehouse goes to Melbourne in the new year, I’d like to get
some TV work there, too.” [44]
Young
Jeremy Kewley spent a spell out of work after Arcade, until starting a five week stint on The Young Doctors in May 1980. In the medical serial Kewley portrayed a soccer player who enters hospital as a
patient after suffering an injury. He is later revealed to be dyslexic and
goes on to enjoy a romance with the nurse character played by Karen Pini in the show. [45]
After Arcade Tracy Mann told TV Week that “It was a pretty dreadful
show. I’m glad for the sake of Australian television, that it folded.
Everyone worked so hard on it but the scripts weren’t very good and the
finished product left a lot to be desired.” Mann reports she got a “nice big
payoff cheque and
went off for a holiday to Bali.” By the end
of 1980 she had completed a guest role in Skyways as a dancer, and in 1981 took a role in Holiday Island.
[46] Also in 1981 came the well
remembered role of scrappy biker’s moll Georgie
Baxter in Prisoner.
Holiday Island turned out to be another show that ended
early and became the focus of repeated jokes about its purported low quality.
Arcade cast member Olga Tamara also took a role in Holiday Island late in its run and had been
working on the show when it was cancelled at the end of 1981. She survived participation
in these infamous failures to enjoy a regular role in Cop Shop in 1982. At the time she looked back at Arcade, telling TV Week that “It was pretty axable… the scripts were really bad.” According to Tamara
about the only good thing to come out of Arcade was meeting her future husband,
Network Ten director Tony Nielsen, on the set of the show. [47]
Indeed Holiday Island, and Arcade, continued to be popularly remembered as the shows axed due to their
laughably low quality for many years after they ended. A clip from Arcade
showing actor Sinan Leong apparently reading her
lines from the script lying on the table in front of her was shown in a 1996
Network Ten retrospective where segment host Barry Crocker poked fun at the
Network’s own production.
The show
was fully produced in-house by Channel Ten Sydney for Network Ten at a time
when major productions were usually outsourced, with Arcade being the first such major production made by the station. [48] However trying to produce a high
output television serial while running a television station was perhaps too
much to take on and as Network general manager Brian Morris admitted “We were
just not equipped for it.” [49]
Bill
Harmon died of cancer in 1981 (Don Cash had died in 1973), making Arcade his final project and the last in a long
line of failures for the veteran producer.
During
the successful run of Number 96, realising that the show’s popularity would
inevitably wane, Bill Harmon began creating new, similarly-styled shows as
early as 1975, when The Unisexers was
launched. That show lasted just sixteen episodes. By 1976, with the ratings
for Number 96 indeed declining, several spin-offs
featuring established characters from the soap, or new characters introduced
just to be spun-off, where planned.
These
spin-offs were mainly half-hour sitcoms and footage from the filmed pilot
episodes of these shows was incorporated into episodes of Number 96. None of these spin-offs eventuated, and Number 96 remained Cash-Harmon Productions’
single long-running success.
Arcade’s notoriety has, however, proved be to
enduring. In July 2007 the Nine Network began its second season of
retrospective television series What a Year - now rejigged
with more a comedy tone and new hosts Bert Newton and Julia Zemiro -
by looking at 1980. Arcade figured prominently in the episode with
many clips from the series shown.
Various
celebrity commentators on What a Year made comments alluding to the
pointless, mundane nature of the storylines of a shopping
mall based drama serial and
the show’s short run. One commentator, entertainment reporter Peter Ford,
made the observation that while Arcade lasted just six weeks with thirty
episodes broadcast, by today’s standards that is not a bad run. What a Year was cancelled and taken off air one week later.
|
