The City Weekly (Canberra), December 1997

'HE'S CRUDE BUT CLEVER, AND A TOTAL BABE'

Sharp as a Mac Paul McDermott's career has been founded on confrontation. James Elder discovers he's not quite the warrior he appears.

For a man whose stage act used to consist largely of abusing his audience, Paul McDermott seems to attract a loyal following. Geoff and Nanette Taylor, both in their 60's, have travelled to Sydney from their home on the central coast for the Thursday night taping of ABC TV's Good News Week, the irreverent weekly round-up of news and current events that McDermott fronts. Though the trip takes two hours the Taylors have only missed a couple of shows.

Imagine waking up to McDermott's constant stream of sarcasm. Imagine the 24-hours-a-day seething* anger, the rage at a world so full of hypocrisy and pointlessness that the only response McDermott sees fit to give is unrelenting cynicism.

And well might you imagine, because it's never going to happen. The real Paul McDermott is, believe it or not, nice.

Getting to know the real Paul McDermott, though, is no mean feat. He is as shy offstage as he is aggressively familiar onstage. His mother says her son used to be rather quiet. Those who have met him socially would add that he still is, citing as evidence the way he tends to shrink from any interaction that involves more than one or two others at a time.

"Off camera he's much quieter," says friend and GNW head writer Ian Simmons. "A lot of people find this very hard to believe, but Paul is a very shy boy. He doesn't walk into a room and want to be the centre of attention; you're more likely to find him sitting in the corner keeping to himself."

McDermott: "I can't do the party thing. I just stand at the window and stare out in a room full of people. I'm hopeless with chit chat."

It's tempting to think of the shy McDermott hiding behind the angry McDermott, using his stage persona as a shield between him and a harsh world. But if it has been a protective device, it has also had some unwelcome spin-offs.

McDermott, 35, has often been shunned in public. "People used to avoid me, not sit next to me on buses, and things like that," he says with a hint of amusement.*

"He has the kind of native skills and intelligence that enable him* to do anything and be anything he wants to be,"

Robinson said that Australian TV had not had a performer of McDermott's capabilities since the halycon days of Grahan Kennedy.

Said GNW's head writer Ian Simmons: "Paul can do fantastic things with lines. Whether he's singing or dancing or putting forward his point of view, Paul is a high energy performer. His delivery is brilliant."

That McDermott can produce the high-wattage goods every week is remarkable. For 18 months he rose each weekday at 5am to be in the Triple J studio in time for the breakfast show that went to air from 6am to 9am.With Mikey Robins (a regular on GNW) and Sandman, he ad-libbed his way through the morning while doodling on notebooks to keep himself amused.

By the end of each show he produced a drawing or two, which he later collected together for publication in extremly limited editions - of one. The books are, he said, precious.

To the disappointment of many fans (including Robins) McDermott quit his Triple J spot last week to allow more time for doodling and "other projects". McDermott still plans to banter with Robins and Sandman on Triple J every odd Friday, though says television, film and his pillow will become his focus.

"Catching up on all the sleep I have missed out on last year is one goal," he said. "There are a couple of projects both at home and overseas that I've been wanting to work on for a little while which have been on the backburner because of Triple J."

McDermott goes into the GNW office twice a week to work on script development, editing and rehearsals. On Thursday, when the show is taped, he doesn't get home again until around midnight. But home isn't exactly a haven away from work; there is a studio where "I do computer-generated images and make books and stuff like that". McDermott also has an impressive voice. "He could have a distinguished career in music," Robinson said. "I think he's one of the best songwriters in the country; he's certainly one of the best singers." There are vague plans afoot for McDermott to put this to the test next year, possibly some live gigs, perhaps a recording.

Somewhere among all the work, McDermott finds time to head to the gym with Robins a couple of times a week. He also finds time for his private life. His girlfriend, he says, is out of bounds. "I don't mind sharing a fair bit, but I don't like talking about aspects of my private life and I feel it's intrusive on the other person."

He will say though: marriage is not on the agenda. "I don't know why, but I've always had an abhorrence of marraige. I've always thought it's a weird thing, sanctioned by society, before God and man, in front of a congregation. I'd find it really embarrassing. I don't know how they do it - profess their love in front of people, in front of their family. I'd be dying in embarrassment, bright red."

For a moment, it seems the real Paul McDermott - shy, terrified of being put on show in front of a group of people he knows - has snuck out from behind the shield. But when he starts talking about children, he instantly slips back into that comfortable zone where the lines between belief and sarcasm are blurred.

"Children, I just think, are evil," he said, "I had a good, fun childhood, nothing was demonic, but I can't even think of bringing children into the world with a similar gene structure to myself. Some poeple want to hatch, they want to put their fluids together and suddenly this thing is born. That is evidence of them and it continues. Me? Oh geez, I just want to die, turn to dust and get blown away.

"Look. I'm being extreme, but never, ever have I had the slightest urge to reproduce. If I had one it wouldn't be good, it'd be like the Tamagotchi; it'd be dead in five minutes because I'd forgotten to feed it."

An hour special of Good News Week will be screened on ABC TV at 8pm on December 31.
Don't miss Paul McDermott's Lastword in SundayLife!, The Sun Herald's colour magazine, every Sunday.

-James Elder

Thanks to someone in Canberra from the MOSH page for typing this up.
The Canberra version is *slightly* different to the Sydney version (it's a lot shorter in fact), and a few paragraphs seem to be missing.

Maintained by VellaB.

* These sentences have been filled in from the Sydney version of the article, as the electronic version had a few holes in it.