Molly is lacking as a TV show but millions, including me, are hooked

In today’s ironic and dismissive world, David Nichols explains why the somewhat skewed story of an awkward and rambling host of a corny ‘live’ music show remains warmly regarded in the hearts of Australia in this cross-posting from The Conversation.

One of the more pointed – almost poignant – bits of the 1986 Richard Lowenstein film Dogs in Space is the Sunday night when the whole household comes together in mutual fascination over the Australian music TV show, Countdown.

No matter they’re all countercultural, mainstream-scorning punks: they need their Sunday night fix, connecting them to the wider pop world.

While Countdown (1974–1987) was clearly (even at the time) a group effort, Molly Meldrum was its heart. Meldrum was connected to many scenes and networks but far, far more important than that was the passion he displayed, often for what was clearly old tat that no-one should have made, let alone have had to sit through.

Now we’re halfway through Channel 7’s miniseries Molly, starring Samuel Johnson as Meldrum, and a couple of million of us are hooked. Any of us with any experience of television knows that the producers don’t have to try as hard with the second half of the enterprise, but they still want us to stay to the end if only so advertisers can shift (for instance) more tickets to golden oldies rock concerts.