My Year With Bryan

‘Build it,’ was the cry, ‘and they will come!’

Here we are, in early 2017, driving off (again) to a warehouse the size of two footy fields to ask a bunch of minimum-wage uniformed retail staff if they can help us find the materials on our long list. They have no idea what a thingamajig is or how to attach the whatsit to the dodacky, but I find myself explaining, to no one in particular, that we have a studio to build, so let’s make this snappy. Studio?

I first met Bryan Bruce last century. School teacher, musician, author, journalist and investigator — and, let’s face it, a man with a fairly big brain. He’s a father, husband, granddad and, luckily for us, a bloke who speaks from the heart and has become a voice for us ‘ordinary’ folk.

Some people accuse him of being a socialist.

Originally from Scotland and from the South Island, and now resident in Auckland, he’s ‘mad as hell and he’s not going to take it!’ - so don’t poke him with a stick or get ya fingers close to those teeth, especially if you’re the Minister of Broadcasting and he just caught you, three minutes into the meeting, checking your phone. He made it to her door before she called him back and apologised.

Meanwhile, we get the wood and other materials back to Bryan’s house. It’s amazing what you can do with a bit of this and that and some what-have-you, and some plain old bloody mindedness. Bloody mindedness is what that Bryan Bruce has in truck loads… just don’t piss him off! Especially if you’re Head of Programming for a TV network or a minister in Parliament who is not returning his calls or is refusing an interview because, it would appear, now that minister is in government (and not opposition) they’re avoiding the hard questions.

Remember ‘The Investigator?’ Bryan took on a few high-profile crime stories and turned them into a big success on mainstream TV. The network wanted more… and more. You can see the dollar signs in those commercial eyeballs, eh? Being ‘The Investigator’ turned into Bryan’s job. He became ‘that bloke on the TV’. He was told if he just kept doing this stuff he would make a lot of money. When he told the network that making a lot of money wasn’t the sole purpose that drove him, they looked at him with their commercial eyeballs in that funny way folk who wear suits do. ‘Look,’ they said, ‘we have masters in Wellington to appease, and advertising slots to sell. You make the programs and we’ll sell the advertising. But don’t include those folk who live with their five kids in cars. I mean, Mr Bruce, do they even watch TV? They’re not our demographic.’ That just made Bryan mad as hell. He wasn’t gonna take it.

As the years drift on, has TV changed its rules of engagement? Sadly no. Glib TV about nothing is still pouring out. They didn’t want Bryan’s enquiring truth anymore. In fact, they argued (in a you’ve-got-to-change-with-the-times sort of way), what’s wrong with a wee bit of entertainment in the news and a bit of half-truth once over lightly anyway? Get with the program, Mr Bruce, you seem hell bent on scaring the horse with these ‘special reports’ of yours. But half-arse research and half-arse ideas are not what Bryan Bruce does. Instead, he said ‘It’s about the people, equality, fairness and an economy that works for everyone and it is called New Zealand Public Television and I’m going to build it… in my basement.’

That’s how we end up back at his building site, trying to figure out if he remembered to mark the position of the studs before the jib went up. Last time I was here, we talked about the brackets to hold the… oh okay. Where’s stud finder, Bryan? There’s something wonderfully ‘Thunderbirds are go’ about all this construction stuff.

The ultimate plan is for the studio to have a lights-camera-and-edit suite all ready to fire up with the flick of one main switch, so one bloke can broadcast live TV pictures. Flash, eh? All this on the whiff of an oily rag, and all on the premise that truth will out and New Zealand needs a public TV station. Job done.

It’s designed for the broadcasters to share his content if they want. Content sharing is the new ideal form of communication; content that can go worldwide; content without borders. Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is the new way.

Beside the sawhorse, and beyond the green-screen, there will be a grid to hold the newly purchased lamps. ‘Hey Bryan do you think it’s a good idea to be doing all this construction in bare feet?’ He looks at me and doesn’t smile. It’s then I recognise that Investigator guy, with all his courage, bravery, and focus. Between drilling, hammering and more sawing, he shares a life affirming anecdote, as we look out the window of the nation’s TV studio, ready to witness a revolution.

‘The bosses wanted to ignore it. We didn’t, so we departed the government sanctioned TV in the late 80’s, during the throes of ‘Rogernomics’, which was tearing the heart out of the heartland’.

Bryan embarked on a journey into the independent world of production, with a passion and commitment to the big ideas and the hard stories that still drive him.

He doesn’t tackle anything simple or go over anything lightly: instead we see ‘Jesus, the cold case’, the Bain murders, the Crewe case, Peter Blake, Dame Whina Cooper, special reports on this and that. He also writes books, and Random House are his publishers.

Recently we drove up north and revisited the doctors who are treating the preventable Third World diseases that appear in the Child Poverty report. We spoke at length about the failure of the left and right wing to sort this shit out; poverty and the plight of a country that had lost its way, filled our conversation. We lamented the facts about who we have become as a nation and, as he gave the Quakers Lecture later that day, I watched intently from behind the camera with ever growing awe and admiration.

We got comfortable with each other’s company again after nearly 35 years, the underlying goal, unsaid, was ‘let’s do good work.’ Later that night we concluded that this New Zealand is now somewhere we don’t recognise from our childhoods.

On our first job together (a Mainland cheese commercial in 1980), the first TV production he directed, I could already see Bryan was more worldly and knew more about people than most had the grace to offer up. He could direct performance in actors yet he was working in the medium of film for the first time, and he already knew there was sub-text to explore and could judge ‘tone’ and that elusive level of ‘pitch’ to make a performance better… and he could construct a story with pictures.

Bryan’s a broadcaster with depth and integrity. He’s also sometimes driven by the demons he has struggled with, but tamed. I reckon this comes with the territory of genius and bag-loads of intelligence. I especially like him for that ability to explore and drive himself hard and, most bravely, put himself in front of the camera and truly own his opinion and work.

Soon he’ll be in a select committee meeting in Parliament, then there’ll be the completion of an economic program that will challenge economic thinking in this country, and then there’s the live TV stuff planned, and a book that will accompany his economic argument. He’s taking on Climate Change as well – and not because it’s easy!

The complex patterns and needs of shared information have changed dramatically over the last few years, and this old socialist isn’t going to be gazumped by the creaking rusty parts of traditional broadcast TV. Being relevant is what it’s all about, and nothing is going to put the kibosh on this new venture. Besides, who knows, ‘scaring the horses’ might just be the new shock of the new-new?

Well, we finally got that thingamajig in, so the site’s now up and running. Put NZPTV into google and fill ya boots with all the selections! He’s a Master.

Kia Kaha Bryan.