"I'm sort of judge, jury and executioner," says McDermott over a cup of tea, trusty guitar resting at his arm.

"I'm God and Satan. In fact, basically I can get away with murder."

In Good News Week, McDermott sets out to control, in the loosest possible fashion, two warring teams of celebrities,

Appearing with him on the first night are Mikey Robins, Noel Ferrier, Kate Fisher and Anthony Ackroyd, who sum up and deconstruct our lives and times.

McDermott, among other things, awards points for both accuracy and creative attempts to stretch the truth.

"Potentially, it's just a time for anyone to express their attitudes about some sort of contentious political issue, or bizarre and humorous news story," he says.

So confident is the ABC of the Friday night show's success, it has commissioned 50 programs.

Describing his time with the Doug Anthony Allstars as "just one aspect of life", he points out they did shows as popularist as Nine's Today show, through to the bizarre like Club Soda and the Rude Room at the Montreal Comedy Festival.

"Television was the great leveller for the Allstars," he says.

"It brought us down from being popular figures at festivals, to having younger people at the (TV) show who a lot of the time didn't really understand the humor or jokes but were fans.

"It brought us to the mass audience, but certainly not the audience we'd played to previously.

"It definitely made us look more critically at our work.

"One of the reasons we'd flee overseas so often was to get away from the base we'd built here, because it needed a rest from us and we certainly needed a rest from it."

Last year Good News Week experienced something of a rollercoaster ride along the TV trail. The show took some time to settle down, then just when things were coming good Aunty announced its cancellation, only to later change its mind.

The reprieve has certainly paid dividends, with Good News Week delivering plenty of laughs in it's second year.

"I think now we've got the balance right, thanks to the ABC which stuck by the show and allowed it to mature," McDermott said.

"Sure, there was the small matter of the stab in the back (the axing), but that's all forgiven and forgotten now."

McDermott admits he is more comfortable in his job now and enjoying his weekly TV stint.

"I started out a little wobbly. I wasn't sure of the exact role I was meant to play," he says.

"I tend to be a fairly aggressive character, so I had to try to humanise myself."

This week the show moves to Melbourne. A special Comedy Festival edition will be taped at the Melbourne Town Hall for screening on Friday week.

December 28 1997, Herald Sun, TV Extra.
Cheeky Farewell To Better Year

The pleadings of then new commissioning editor (comedy) Dennis Watkins and a sympathetic ear from the new ABC-TV general manager Penny Chapman, saved its cheeky knickers.

This year the beastie that is Good News Week, trained and steered by the wicked and acerbically fearless Paul McDermott, has pulled improved ratings and has been dubbed a cult hit.

The taping of the New Year's Eve special was a good chance to meet the beast in the flesh. And in front of a large audience.

The venue was Sydney's Enmore Theatre, which has seen better years, the seats obviously designed for posteriors narrowed by wartime deprivation.

But what an atmosphere. The theatre was packed with 2000 enthusiasts of many ages, brandishing streamers and cheek. Mortars fired confetti and paper on to the stage and, during the finale, balloons cascaded from the ceiling.

McDermott not only hosts the show, he was the master of ceremonies and warm-up man. As the taping took 2 1/2 hours - to be condensed into one hour, due largely, one suspects, to the frequent use of a magic word - his energy levels and patience were confounding. Co-hosts and team leaders Mikey Robins and Julie McCrossin also contributed to the audience warm-up, although Robins has more of a two-man routine going with his old buddy.

McDermott wears a black velvet suit with shiny black built-up shoes though he hardly needs them to tower above the guest panelists. The exceptions might be dry-witted Tasmanian novelist/poet Dr Margaret Scott and Race Around The World host Richard Fidler.

Because of the evening's longevity, Robins and McCrossin will lead two teams of players including semi-regulars such as the aforementioned. Others include Johanna Sweet (former superfish-cum-TV commentator and wife of Gary), Lex Marinos (Live & Sweaty), Amanda Keller (Denton off-sider and Pay TV's The Hub), Jay Laga'aia (Water Rats) and Rhys Muldoon (Big Sky).

The New Year's Eve program sticks to the basic panel/gameshow format with some surprises. The only one we will divulge is when Fidler appears to bully McDermott into joining him in a song, only to have the curtains draw back to reveal a 30-member backing choir. Great stuff.

Most memorable for the viewers are the tasteless jokes, also a feature of the regular editions. It is a shock to find oneself laughing at the misfortune of others. There are many barbed slings at the live and famous, as well as the recently departed.

Kim Wilson comes in for heaps, thanks to the revelation she was the last person to visit INXS star Michael Hutchence's hotel room. The fact that she sold her story to Women's Day apparently makes her a fair target.

McDermott can be merciless. Unfair but funny, was his description of the line that Wilson was also seen leaving the hotel room of Stephane Grappelli, the great jazz/blues violinist who died last month, aged almost 90.

If some of the material sounds tasteless, and sometimes even offensive, you have obviously missed most of the year.

This is standard Good News Week and, as Penny Chapman confirmed over canapes after the taping, such behavior is here to stay.

Now, before l go on, let's look at that term "cult". Generally, it analogous to low-ratings. Few people watch cult shows, but because they dare to be different, they get a lot of publicity, heaps more than they really deserve. Shows such as SBS's South Park and Ten's Xena: Warrior Princess are cult shows. By any objective measure, they are ratings disasters. But if network program managers were to try to take them off air, their loyal and very vocal bands of followers would demand their public lynching.

In its first year, Good News Week was one such show, and when the ABC looked like it was going to scrap it because of unsatisfactory ratings, there was hell to pay. The ABC relented, and gave it another chance. And as one of those who originally thought it should go, I'm glad it reconsidered. It's now must-see viewing in my household and, interestingly, in the homes of a lot of other over 40s. I know, hardly the audience at which it was originally aimed. With the exception of the two shows mounted at the Melbourne Comedy Festival earlier this year, when the deceptively simple concept was just overwhelmed by the enormity and grandeur of the Melbourne Town Hall, Good News Week has become one of the funniest shows on the box.

Host Paul McDermott, the most multi-talented of the former Doug Anthony All-stars, is perfect in the job. His stand up routine at the start of each show in which he reviews the week that was, is hilarious. Regular panellists Mikey Robins, who is an acquired taste, and Julie McCrossin (even more so), are wickedly witty once you get to know them. And apart from British literary buff Auberon Waugh, whose appearance recently was inadvertently funny because the stuffy old dodderer did not have the slightest idea what he was supposed to do, the guest panellists are well chosen.

But it was fair to ponder whether the concept could be extended into a second weekly program. Good News Weekend might simply duplicate Friday's show and dilute the available material. McDermott and his writers and researches may do a splendid job for 30 minutes each Friday night. But how could they fill another 60 minutes only one might later?

Well, to be honest, what we got last Saturday night was really little more than a variation on the Friday show with a few songs and a couple of stand-up comedy routines thrown into pad out the hour. But the notable difference was that the questions were not so much about current affairs and odd-ball stories in the week's paper as about movies, music, TV shows and advertising.

There was not much to it, really. But it was curiosity entrancing and once they got into the swing of it, terrifically entertaining. It was like sitting in on a group of people playing party games, a sort a pop culture version of Trivial Pursuit. They were having a great time. If you went with the flow, it was hard not to get involved.

Name the song of which these are opening lyrics. Name the TV show of which this is the theme music. "The Beverly Hillbillies", viewers around the country yelled in union. "The Flinstones", "Roger Ramjet". Hardly the stuff of Mastermind or even Sale of the Century. But who needs their brains exercised too strenuously on a Saturday night?

There was a band called The Gadflys, another called The Mavis's and that funny little man, Flacco, and his quirky observations on life. But 11 minutes into the show, it was back to the Friday night format. Even the set was much the same. McDermott, as usual, asked the questions. Robins and McCrossin were the team leaders.

McCrossin showed her age a few times, and made we middle-aged views a lot more comfortable with questions about contemporary music that we had no was of answering unless our kids were in the room. And Robins just hammed it up from the start to finish, which is what he does every week on the Friday show.

But there was enough in Saturday's premiere edition to make me think that this, too, will become a cult favorite. The only thing is that the cult is getting bigger. Eventually, instead of calling it a cult favorite, we critics might start to using the word 'hit'. Roy and HG had better watch out. After 10 weeks away, they might find there is not place for them back at the ABC.

"What we're looking for," Robinson explains. "is a collision of cultures-to represent people who are at the forefront of their field." So you might see Anthony Morgan coming to terms with a brain surgeon, or Leo Schofield in polite banter with Poppy King. As the credit roll, astute viewers will also notice a dedicated team of writers listed. Don't be fooled. They work primarily with Paul McDermott to perfect the opening and closing monologues and the linking spiels. Most of the show is off-the-cuff.

Woody Allen also said, "if it bends, it's comedy; if it breaks, it's not comedy." Good News Week is comedy because it breaks you up.

McDermott: We have to mention it. it's the biggest story of 10 years since Elvis' death.

Robbins: The cult of Elvis will be nothing compared to the cult of Di.

McDermott: I want to believe they are all living happily together actually Di, Elvis, Lord Lucan.

Robbins: As my girlfriend said, one nice thing is that Versace's waiting for her.

McDermott: It (Di's death) was a terrible and frightening thing. I mean that, but at the same time it must be discussed every where else so it will be discussed on Good News Week.

Writers and producers were locked in debate. Some wanted the subject left alone. Others searched for ways it could be handled with good taste. The show goes to air tomorrow night.