Ian Horner

SAY I DO (Netflix) Sometimes reality shows can work, specially if they’re a bit lighthearted in the first place. Here, a bunch of couples of varying genders get to plan their dream weddings with a team of experts and seemingly unlimited budgets someone else pays for. They’re the sort of events you and I can only dream of, so let’s dream! There are eight eps with eight couples, two of whom are gay: Randy and Will, and Jason and Jonathan. Dive in at No 6, “In Sickness and in Health”. Just like Idol, it’s the back-story that makes the episode. Jason and Jon got engaged the moment gay marriage was passed but subsequent years of illness for Jason led to piling debts and stage 4 cancer. Says Jon: “Everything came crashing down. How many tomorrows did we have left?” Turns out, quite a few. It’s a genuinely happy story as years of meds begins to take effect, a corner is turned, and Jason’s declared cancer-free. “Jon took care of me all through my sickness,” Jason says. “Now he deserves the big wedding he’s always wanted.” Enter on cue, interior designer Jeremiah Brent, fashion designer Thai Nguyen and chef Gabriele Bertaccini with an open cheque-book. Yes, it’s wallow TV. So wallow, unashamedly. They’ve done sickness and health. They’ve done poorer. It’s time to do richer, with others’ help. It’s fabulous to watch the guys in love and weep with joy as they’re both spoiled rotten. Now they can make plans for a future they never thought they’d have. We watch them being interviewed at the adoption agency and learn gay male couples get chosen quicker by expectant mums over straight couples — even if the program costs $US46,000. Get out the tissues. And there’s still a bunch of stories to go. It’s totally over the top. Let’s say a hearty “I do!” (PG, 8 x 60 mins eps)

COMING OUT COLTON (Netflix) It’s no good sign that Netflix billed this as “a reality show”, considering reality has nothing to do with the genre. It’s stage-managed, manipulated and milked, yet none of that can dilute the impact of another genuine coming-out story; while one boy’s still struggling somewhere with his identity we can never have too many. Colton Underwood was a pro footballer made even more famous by a fling on The Bachelor. After a meltdown, he took time out to gather his wits and face a few fears, ultimately announcing he was gay. Like so many, he’d been scarred by religious intolerance. “I just don’t want me being me to be a sin,” he says with anguish at one point. In episode 1 he starts to come out to family and friends. He tells his mum he’s known he was attracted to boys since 6 or 7. Mum says she hadn’t a clue and regrets he never saw her as a safe harbour. His best mate, Olympian Gus Kenworthy, who’d previously come out, notes, tellingly: “You can pass as straight and there's privilege that comes with that.” Regrettably, this interesting gem isn’t expounded as it should be. His brother takes the news well, simply asking if he’s gone on Grindr yet. Colton wryly comments to camera: “You know, my brother didn’t have to come out as straight, or announce that when he marries it’ll be to a woman.” The episode ends as Colton drops the truth bomb on Dad whom he always saw more as a coach when he wanted more of a father — but we have to wait for the next episode for Dad’s reaction, rather cruelly, and cheaply, reducing the moment to a very staged cliffhanger. The rest of the series is more of the same, augmented with hand-held camera and quick cuts which all gets dizzying, as though the narrative needed beefing up to make it punchy. One would’ve thought the simple story of a guy raised as a macho sportsman in a religious home plucking up the courage to admit to family, friends, teammates and fans that he likes guys needed no further embellishment. (MA15+, 6 x 30mins eps)

THE NEWSREADER (ABC iView) This brilliant behind-the-scenes look at commercial TV news in Australia during the heady ’80s not only just rings true — as any of us lucky enough to experience, and survive, that whirlwind period in the media will attest — it’s thoroughly engaging, entertaining, and eye-opening for those wondering what life is really like working in “newscaf”, news and current affairs, in a TV studio. This reviewer was a young producer at the time, chafing at the bit like the young producers here, taking every chance to work round the clock (literally) and going out on a limb to do the big stories of the day, challenging AIDS myths, unexpected fallout from Chernobyl here in Australia, interviewing Lindy Chamberlain, et al, which I did, and they’re all covered here. This show perfectly captures the no-holds-barred jostling between reporters for screen time, the chance to work on a do-or-die big story, the God-awful pronouncements that would issue forth from management somewhere upstairs in the ether, the unmitigated disaster of nerves in front of the camera that would expose and shake out the last vestige of insecurity from a trembling new reporter whose self-worth and career hung on his ability to stare down the barrel of a camera and deliver lines to a piece of glass as though it was his best friend. But there was more going on. It was a time when being gay was something you hid to protect yourself, your job, your career. That theme will catch you unawares here. Handsome Dale Jennings (Sam Reid) is the rising star of the network, eyeing a serious reporter’s job and, would it ever come to this, a job on The Desk, co-anchoring the evening news. He’s got enough on his plate as he musters the courage to do his stand-ups in the field for live crosses and nervously explore his tentative romantic connection with the man-eating female news co-anchor Helen Norville (a tour de force by Anna Torv). Insert the teal name of any number of female anchors of the day. Then after the show has wrapped one night, most of the staff gone, the cute gay cameraman gives Jennings a very serious kiss. Which Jennings returns. This storyline weaves and twists and grows until it’s the dominant focus of the series, culminating in a wonderfu moment between Jennings and Norville which had this reviewer in tears. Chai Hansen is excellent as the gay cameraman, Tim. Out gay actor Tim Draxl and Mark Leonard Winter are Adam and Russell, the gay couple trotted out to give “the human side” of an AIDS story, in a striking parallel to the time Katrina Lee and I did the same thing. I remember our makeup girl was too scared to apply makeup to someone with AIDS, so Katrina reached into her own handbag, pulled out her own compact and did the makeup on our guest herself. Heady, confronting times. Everything about this show is firmly rooted in reality, I can vouch for that. If you value the importance of modern media, don’t miss this account of how we got to where we are now — in terms of technology, the art of news telling and gay acceptance. (6 episodes, M)