Close to Home (1975-83)

Twice weekly Kiwi soap opera following the ups and downs of Wellington’s Hearte family.

A Story of Success

Morris, Clive "TV Personality Parade" (1976)

Close To Home started out last May with so many ho-hums ringing in its ears that for it to have survived is a remarkable testament to bloody-mindedness and a object lesson for the knocking brigade.

Aw hack, the local amateuroso are muscling in on Coronation Street, said every grandmother in shorts. But the takeover was professional. And successful.

That the programme has even flourished from such hostile beginnings is proof enough, notwithstanding the high proportion of imported talent, that Avalon can produce perfectly good porridge when it has a mind to

The taste had to be acquired, but once TB-worshipping New Zealanders had accustomed themselves to regular basinfuls, they began, and continue, to gulp it down.

Close To Home is the most popular local programme with viewers on both channels and the only local production to figure in the top 10 favourites from amongst all programmes screened in New Zealand.

The Coronation Street formula has survived the 1200-mile transplant. Massive injections of Kiwinide have established a set of characters dinkum enough to be popular and a burgeoning core of of TV addicts has been hooked. The groundwork has been laid, the pattern set.

Now a succession of writers and producers can churn out innumerable variations on theme of A Family At Chores.

Already Close To Home has become New Zealand's longest-running home-grown television drama serial.

It has had more than 80 actors with speaking parts Of those almost half have made their television debut in the programme.

And already 15 writers have cooked up scripts for the series. Again, a significant number of these (8) have been blooded in it.

Eight directors have worked on the series, 28 sets were built and 17 permanent contract actors (three months or more) have worked on it. And 17 full-time staff have worked on the production, along with 20 part-timers who work on recording days, filming days and rehearsals.

This high percentage of actors and writers is one of the show's benefits. It is the base from which the drama output can be accelerated.

It is not merely a training ground for actors and writers, but also for cameramen, producers, directors, designers, floor managers, video-tape operators, and wardrobe consultants. The entire production team can increase their experience.

The impact of this growing experience is felt not only in the day-to-day production of Close To Home but has aided the impetus that television is making in the drama field.

A 75-minute production of lan Cross' novel. "The God Boy," was completed, and further episodes of "Moynihan," production of six New Zealand short stories, a thriller serial, an historical series on the life and times of Sir George Grey, and some situation comedies are already in the pipeline.

There is a kaleidoscope of skills required to cope with day to day emergencies. There was the member of the cast who fell ill and parts had to be rewritten in order to give him time to recuperate.

Then there was the member of the cast who walked into a door and got a black eye-which was not in the script! His next appearance had to include some justification for him walking around on screen with his eye covered.

Once there was a very topical piece about a rugby match and the production team took great trouble in setting it up so that it could be included in the following programme. But they missed out by 10 minutes... a video tape fault caused it to be left out!

You can run into some rather unexpected problems, says former CTH producer Peter Muxlow. Once, Ilona Rodgers (who plays Vivian) got snowed-in down south on a skiing trip. She tells us that to get this across to us she had to reach a nearby farmhouse by skis for a telephone. Later they had to dig themselves out to get back on time.

Luckily, not much outdoor shooting is involved because that brings in an entire new world of problems. Once it involved a visit to the races. The better-known members of the cast kept getting mobbed by people.

Even a passing cloud can play havoc with the lighting, and hence the production schedule.

Costume can be an especial problem.

In spite of the mad rush, viewers are mostly unaware of the problems behind-the-scenes. These can be quite challenging and often you can get into some really fun things like a request to. literally within 10 minutes, prepare a gorilla or an Idi Amin, says wardrobe assistant Christine Hansen.

Naturally enough there is a system involved in wardrobe planning.

At the initial planning stages, we receive a small biography of each character and a general outline of the story. The designer and the producer then discuss it and thrash out how a particular character is to be developed, explains Garry Hansen TVI's head of design. They interpret and visualise the character into reality.

At this stage one of the four wardrobe assistants from our department takes over as the wardrobe co-ordinator for the series. It is up to her to look after the entire wardrobe aspect of the production from the initial researching down to the minutest detail.

Another problem is in knowing where to look for what. Olga Hall has been doing this job for the last six years for television and for more years than I care to remember, in amateur societies

Before the move to Avalon, Mrs Hall and Benji, her friend and companion border collie, were a familiar sight in Wellington's second-hand shops, curio dealers and auction rooms.

Her job is a continuous string of problems to be tackled daily. Often a request results in a chase with clues and leads to be followed.

Take for example a scene in Close To Home that requires supposedly dangerous drugs.

Mrs Hall contacted Sergeant Franklin, public relations officer of the Police Department. He is one of the most helpful people around and often goes out of his way for us. I learnt how I could get vials of sterile water that look ex-actly like the real thing, she says.

The thing about this job is that you have to use all your initiative and imagination; you have to be willing to work odd hours and above all, you have to be good at public relations, she says.

It's no good locating something after painstaking detective work if you cannot persuade the owner to let you borrow it.

But people are more than helpful. It's part of the New Zealand thing, she adds.

1975

You can say a lot against my family said pop Hearte in 1975, But we've all stuck together.

The Hearts were close-knit in those days. Don and his wife, Val, had their three youngest children at home. Lyddie was nursing, Alan had visions of himself as a musician, and Caro was still at school.

The other children weren't far away either. Tom and Viv Heart lived just round the corner, and Jane, the eldest daughter, was following in her mother's tradition of large families. She and her husband Alex Fleming, had four children: Chris, Nicola, John and baby Katie

Don's sister, Dot Paget, had her hands full looking after their father, her son, Stephen, and her husband Ken. Pop Heart was far from well in those days. Retirement was no easier for him than it was later for his son. He was drifting into old age with a marked lack of grace.

Don and Val had a large house with a couple of flats attached. Val's sister, Christine Lovatts, lived in one, and Don's oldest friend, Peter Wallace, occupied a happy mess in the other.

And life, initially, seemed fairly settled. Don worked on the local newspaper as a sports journalist, and Val was practically running Heart and Symonds.

Val and Christine were eagerly awaiting a visit from their parents, Milos and Mary Lorvatz. Christine had hopes that her father would finance a new company for her. She was a successful dress designer and wanted to set up on her own. Milos always breezed into their lives bearing enough food and wine for an army and proceeded to take over the kitchen. And this time seemed no exception. For a few days they settled into a Yugoslav family reunion, full of noise and laughter.

But Milos didn't mention his chest pains, although Mary was worried about them, and his heart attack in Christine's flat shocked them all

Val became very depressed and resigned from Heart and Symonds, leaving the foreman, Harry Tripp, to carry on. It wasn't a good decision. She couldn't find a job, and became introverted. For Pop Heart, though, it was the start of a new lease of life. He started playing around with designs for A-frames and came up with a modular housing scheme which looked very promising.

Life was more turbulent for Jane and Alex Fleming. Jane was behaving more and more strangely. Depressions alternated with frantic highs, and a fit of uncontrollable violence one night resulted in her being admitted to Moenui Psychiatric Hospital.

Alex employed a housekeeper until Jane was discharged. Which is how Mrs Featherstone came into their lives. She loved looking after the children, and on Jane's return, found her own house unbearably quiet. So she started taking in boarders. Hilary "Larry" Walters was the first, a zany girl studying for her master's degree in political science.

Pop Hearte startled his family by announcing he was going to see Scotland again before he died, and he headed off on his own. He returned via Darwin, just after the city was destroyed by a hurricane. He also returned with a contract to supply his A-frames there. He left Mike Laughton, an old boyfriend of Christine's in charge of the firm, and went back to Darwin looking years younger.