For the last 12 months, I’ve had the pleasure of building a new TV series for the Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC) titled I Was Actually There. I think of it as somewhat the follow-up to seven seasons of You Can’t Ask That. It’s been a particularly gruelling, yet equally rewarding task and I’m pleased to have the time again now to sit, reflect and write about the experience for this newsletter For those interested, the show premieres tonight at 8:00 pm on ABC and ABC iview.
The conception and development of this new series has been a career highlight. The intention was to build on the learnings of You Can’t Ask That whilst also creating a whole new outfit. For each episode, I interview a series of people who were present during one of Australia’s most defining moments: those closest to the action, those who were doing, who were observing or those who were only there by coincidence. I wanted to discover what they saw, how they responded and how it changed them.
The trailer for the show is here. Have a watch, I’d love to hear your thoughts.
The six episodes in order are:
Port Arthur massacre, 28/4/1996;
Boxing Day tsunami, 26/12/2004;
Nicky Winmar’s stand against racism (and the image that almost never was), 17/4/1993;
The Beatles’ world record-breaking visit to Adelaide, 12/6/1964;
Woomera Detention Centre breakout, 29/3/2002; and
Beaconsfield Mine rescue, 9/5/2006.
Here’s a sneak peek of episode 6, Beaconsfield Mine rescue:
For this issue, I’m going to share with you some insights into how we made the new series and I’ll answer the most common questions I’m asked about the show.
How were the episodes selected?
We learnt from You Can’t Ask That that a season needs to feature a range of voices, ideas and emotions. We brought that philosophy to I Was Actually There. We didn’t want a season looking entirely at disasters; we wanted iconic moments mixed with lesser-known ones. From nation-defining tragedies to impassioned protests to cultural celebrations, we were looking for a range of characters, decades, beliefs and personalities on screen.
We also wanted moments where there was a range of experiences present. Victims to first responders, bystanders to journalists, those struggling to deal with the moment and those that have successfully moved on. Surprising voices and ones that you may never have heard from in relation to each event. All of this factored into choosing the six episodes.
What did you learn about the events?
The big learning was that witnessing these moments is not a neat experience and the news or Wikipedia can’t quite capture it. Being in these events is confusing, weird, and full of conflicting emotions. For example, those at Port Arthur had no idea of the total death toll. Many didn’t really know what had unfolded until days later. On an individual level, the sniper wasn’t particularly traumatised by the event, he was just doing his job. A journalist got details wrong on the day and broadcast them live on the ABC. Living these events is a very personal experience. Each person comes away with their unique take, which rarely aligns with the agreed-upon set of facts that becomes ‘history’.
How were the participants selected and where did you film them?
The series features 68 exceptional people. There was no rule to the number of voices per episode, we were looking for the right mix of experiences, involvement and impact. Finding them took all the experience of seven seasons of You Can’t Ask That.
On some episodes, identifying interviewees was a matter of looking through news stories from the time. Others were investigative deep-dives, looking for people who’d remained largely anonymous for decades. Sometimes, people didn’t want to speak to us. There were others that felt they might be traumatised by reliving the moment. Some still hadn’t come to grips with the impact the moment had had on their life. Others weren’t necessarily convinced their own perspective was worth sharing. Some people we found in archives, court records, Facebook groups. Others still contacted us after we launched call-outs about the moments we were interested in.
Where do you shoot the show?
We go to where our interviewees are. We have a custom canvas backdrop painted for us by Sarah Oliphant (she is famous for painting Annie Leibovitz’s iconic backdrops). We can scrunch it up in a bag and take it with us anywhere. The interviews were shot in studios, hotel rooms and occasionally people’s homes, wherever our participants were around the country. To create the least intimidating environment possible, it was only Aaron Smith (cinematographer) and myself in the room. Although we slightly adjusted the set for each interview, having a generic set-up across the series meant that I could interview people from different episodes one after the other. It was rare I’d film two people from the same episode back to back. I find this keeps the interviews fresh.
How were the interviews different from You Can’t Ask That?
You Can’t Ask That was a joy to interview. You had a base of 10 questions, directed from the public, that you typically wouldn’t ask someone from any of these groups. I saw the question as the entrance point into an idea and once inside I would then use my own curiosity to learn and understand each individual’s experience. It was 2 hours of exploring a person.
I Was Actually There required more structure. Because we are talking about a moment in time, it was important I understood the person’s unique involvement in the day and got key facts from them. But, because these moments are so defining, it meant they’d often told a version of the story many times. The trick for me was to get these key details, but also encourage them to go off the beaten track to get new takes, new realisations and unusual details that they might not normally talk about or had forgotten. I enjoyed when people struggled to remember certain details, it showed the way the brain works. Other times participants could remember things from decades ago in minute detail. This show isn’t about the forensic details of a day, it’s about what sticks in people’s memory, what details become important, what gets lost, what still hurts, where the humour has crept in. At times people were adamant that certain details were correct (that I knew through research weren’t). It was fascinating.
My job was also about reassuring interviewees that whatever their experience if we were interviewing them, we were interested. The nature of big moments and the way the media typically covers them is that the major players’ versions of events are the most important. If you didn’t lose someone, or didn’t get injured, or didn’t instigate something, then your experience is somehow less. But for us, the people on the periphery, those that had unusual involvement or off-beat responses were equally important. It helped paint a well-rounded picture of what it was like to be there. After all, that is what we are trying to communicate: the experience of being there, in the moment, in all its shapes.
What are the key differences between You Can’t Ask That and I Was Actually There?
We tend to think of this show as being cut from the same cloth as You Can’t Ask That, but it’s a totally new suit. You’ll find the way we shoot down the lens is familiar, and we maintain that strong connection between our interviewees and the audience. At times we shoot in our iconic pairings. But where You Can’t Ask That featured 8 individuals united by a label, in I Was Actually There, our participants are actually far more linked. They were not only in the same place at the same time, but many of their stories overlap and their experiences collide, which you’ll see unfold on the screen.
We don’t have 10 burning questions on cards this time. I Was Actually There unfolds chronologically, with a ticking clock allowing the audience to understand where we are in the event. Although interview-led, carefully selected archive material has also been used to provide recognisable reference points. Occasionally interviewees have artefacts, photos or articles they refer to. Finally, because place is such an integral part of the show, we have shot contemporary footage in location to help the audience transport there.
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On a side note, this is the first production out of my own company, which has been an exciting challenge and an important leap forward in establishing our creative voice. It’s primarily the core team that made You Can’t Ask That, but production and post-production are based out of our new office in Darlinghurst Sydney. It’s great, I can take my dog to work!
Thanks for reading everyone. It’s great to be back with you all.
Kirk
Kirk Docker is the co-creator and director of award-winning TV show You Can’t Ask That. When it comes to the content he creates, no subject is off-topic. Kirk’s interviewees range from ex-politicians to ice users to sexual assault survivors. He has a deep curiosity, compassion and playfulness that elicits honesty from his participants, many of whom have never sat in front of a camera before.
Find out more about Kirk at kirkdocker.com. Connect with him on LinkedIn.
Seeing this pop up in my inbox this morning, I suddenly realised how little I care about most things. Not because they're bad (no doubt some things are), or even because I'm rapidly becoming a boring old man.
I don't care about most things because they don't make me feel the way your work makes me feel. So thanks again for digging deep and making things that remind me it's worth making things worth making well.