
Photos of the WRX Public Read-Through kindly provided by Noted Festival.
The format of Writers Room X had two huge risks at the centre of it. Proving that the model in my head could work was entirely dependent on whether those risks would pay off. Thanks to the amazing group of writers that came together for the project I can soundly say that said model has legs (at least as long as you have amazing writers involved).
The first risk was the group-devised nature of the project. The classic TV-writers-room model that I was basing everything on traditionally hinges on one, maybe two people to devising the premise and vision for a show. I was asking my writers to do that part in the room together, eyeball to eyeball.

The second risk was working around the individual work and life schedules of 6 independent writers. Our working week necessarily looked like this:
9.5 straight hours on a Sunday
Separate for three days to each write an episode draft
Reconvene for 3 four hour sessions over 3 days, in which every draft was reconciled with each other a taken to final edit as a group
Live public read-through on day 8
My hunch going in was that paying off both risks would come down to that huge long first day. We kicked off with several hours of framing- talking about all the thing that we loved about TV, as well as all the things that we haven’t seen in the medium and would like to. We set goals for what we wanted to achieve and spent time just getting to know each other. I’m pretty sure that time spent getting on the same page was what made the rest of the week go so smoothly.
And really, it went crazy smoothly. Sure, there was a fair chunk of staring at each other fearfully on the first day, but once we stopped trying so hard the premise and characters came quickly. The last big chunk of Sunday was spent beating out the plots for our 6-episode season (of 6 minutes episodes) and assigning each writer an episode. I was sure that our first drafts would be all over the map in terms of character and tone but when we read them through start to finish on the Thursday they were shockingly cohesive. The last three days were exactly my dream of what the format could be; a group of writers polishing and punching up the scripts as a group, everyone pulling in the same creative direction.
One of the great things about this format is reading a draft by a writer where you already know the plot and the beats that they’re working with, but being surprised and delighted by their execution. We did constant out-loud read-throughs of everything which meant these delightful surprises were experienced as a group right there in the moment. Unbelievably fun. Doing the final group pass on all the one-liner jokes was a highlight too.
So after 21 hours or group work and who-knows-how-much off-site solo writing, We completed Season One of Drunk White Friend, a sitcom by Writers Room X. We wrapped up the week with a live reading of the scripts at the Noted Festival publishing fair, and despite the variance in voice-acting experience among our group the reaction was great.
The next phase is moving toward production, watch this space for all the details. In the meantime colossal shout-outs to the other members of Writers Room X- Tasnim Hossain, Linda Chen, Khalid Warsame, Chiara Grassia and Emma ‘Make It Happen’ McManus! You guys are the bestestest.

















A lot of my favorite hip hop and pop vids bounce confidently between seemingly unrelated settings and narratives, tied together by the sense of the performers identity. I also love the way a music video can endlessly call back to moments once they’ve been established. With those two elements in mind I came up with three separate ‘story strands’, each of which we shot as aggressively linear and coherent short films in their own right. Then I asked Luke to throw narrative coherence out the window and use the footage as raw material for a dizzying mood piece, cut to the music above all else.
My original concept for the hotel scene was way more explicit and more in line with the homoerotic lyrics of the song, but turning it into a solo ‘date night’ streamlined the visuals and created a great set-up for Housemouse’s star turn. It’s funny that sexualised male nudity (and sure, masturbation) in video clips is still a relative novelty, but in this case it was a simple matter of following the implications of the song.
It’s also funny that this video crystallizes the notion of Babyfreeze as a two-piece just as we’ve morphed into more of a collective. The next video will certainly reflect that change!
For those who have been tracking Babyfreeze’s life as band, playing at a Warhol-esque performance art party within a roiling sea of burlesque artists, dancers and poets probably seems like the logical conclusion of something. Even by our standards this gig was on the fruity side, and one of the funnest we’ve ever played.

Many of the acts were scored live by a quintet of string players from the Canberra Symphony Orchestra, and I was very lucky to wangle my way into singing a couple of numbers with them. Sitting atop a podium for the first two hours of the night, cutting a figure of inconsolable misery, I periodically broke into ultra-bleak torch favorites from the history of pop such as What Now My Love and Hopelessly Devoted To You. This simple SadSinger character is one I’ve had in the hindbrain for a while and this was a crazy-fun way to roadtest him for future use.

Playing things ultra-sad for that long meant that when I moved from the podium to the stage, introduced Babyfreeze and then kicked into our mega-banger Christmas Number One with FULL STRING QUINTET ACCOMPANIMENT is was an instantly floor-filling moment, and maybe as close as we’ll ever get to a movie-style set piece (though not if I have anything to say about it). We vaulted from that straight holiday uplift into one of our sleazier and sketchier sets to date, and the beautiful crowd went right along with us. The whole thing was a real Yuletide Gay.
Photos by Chenoeh Miller, except for this one of me doing a headstand by Andrew Richey:






It’s been a full year since I started touring Bomb Collar, my one-man science fiction cabaret musical. I’ve done the show in a storeroom full of pigeon feathers in Newcastle, in a 100-year-old puppetry theatre in Manila, in a live music venue in Belgrade and in a shipping container decorated in animal heads in a Melbourne park. None of these were as nerve-wracking as doing the show in my home-town.
Of course once I was into it the chance to augment my costume/instrument with full-blown theatrical lighting was wonderful. At this stage the script has become a sort of mental deck of cards that I can slightly reshuffle in the moment, and the festival techs did a miraculous job of improvising cues with me on the fly. I was the ‘after hours’ show on three consecutive nights and fluked some beautifully warm weather. The space, while much bigger than I’ve had for this show before, was still intimate enough for me to zero in on individual crowd members with ease. There was something great about having open sky above me while insisting to the audience that we were deep beneath the sea.
Photos by Luuuuuuuke McGrath!







