Celebrating the wit, wisdom and warmth of one of Australia and New Zealand’s most loved satirists, BUT ALSO JOHN CLARKE brings John Clarke’s story back to audiences – this time through his daughter, Lorin Clarke’s eyes. Shot across Australia and New Zealand, the film features 42 friends, colleagues and collaborators woven together with archival footage, personal letters, and intimate recorded conversations between father and daughter, offering a rare and heartfelt portrait of a cultural icon. BUT ALSO JOHN CLARKE is both a tribute to John’s extraordinary legacy and a celebration of the enduring connection between father and daughter.
After the film’s premiere at the Melbourne International Film Festival, and before it releases across Australia on September 4, Nick L’Barrow spoke with Lorin Clarke about telling all aspects of her dad’s story, and working with the Australian and New Zealand actors and comedians who were impacted by John’s work.
Nick: One of my favourite aspects of the documentary is that you’re telling this story about your dad and his career, but it’s also this warts and all approach. You don’t shy away from some of the things he struggled with throughout his life, and show that even though he was so admired, he was human too. What was that inner conversation with yourself in going down those avenues of his life too?
Lorin Clarke: So, that’s my favourite question! When I said to my family and a few interested people that I was interested in making a film about my dad, or doing a project about his legacy, it was my mum, who she and my dad were this team in a way, said, “As long as it’s not a hagiography.” So then I had to google ‘hagiography’ [laughs].
But I think what she was saying was that we need to show that sometimes he was a jerk, but have it also be a tribute saying that he was also a pretty cool cat to hang out with. There wasn’t a lot of the “I adore my father”, even though me, my mum, and my sister all did. But when you have a project celebrating someone, especially if they’re a satirist and their job is to analyse the way power works, it wouldn’t work if it was just all about them kicking goal after goal.
I think what he taught me, not just creatively, but also intellectually, the story is always more interesting because of the journey you go on to get to the moment. So, you want to talk about how he didn’t have a relationship with his parents that was as beautiful and easy as the one I had with mind. He didn’t get on aeroplanes because he had all of this anxiety. That was really important for me to make sure it wasn’t just hitting all of the career points and celebrating them. It was a deliberate sort of contemplation of the bigger picture beneath which makes everybody’s life complicated and interesting.
Nick: I guess the thesis of the documentary is a line that is said early in the film, and that is: “life can be pretty boring if we don’t make it funny”. Do you remember the moment when you learnt that lesson from your dad?
Lorin Clarke: I remember realising when I was an adult that not everybody sat around and analysed comedy videos. Like, not everybody did creative things in their spare time. We used to have table reads at our house where we would read each other’s scripts and critique them. I’d be in high school, but it was like I had just as much right to the creative process as anyone. And realising that as an adult was a real gift. Even if I were not to become a creative person with my work, it showed that I was capable if someone presented you with a problem, you can use all of these creative processes to solve problems.
It kind of made me evangelical about education, you know? Well being should be part of the curriculum, and the arts should be recognised as a powerful tool for that. I mean, sports recognises that, so arts can be part of those processes too. But for me, all of that was a retrospective moment, and a privilege, to have access to all kinds of those creative tools and pathways from an early age.
Nick: Rhys Darby said something that I loved in this doco, stating the fact that Fred Dagg is so beloved because “he is a confident idiot. He says whatever he wants, and he believes it”. I couldn’t help but find this parallel between Fred and the politicians that John would satire too – all people who basically are confident idiots. Have you ever thought about that throughline too?
Lorin Clarke: Yeah, it’s interesting. I’ve been asked a lot if there’s anything that surprised me while I was making this documentary, and I don’t really think there was. However, when you just said that, I suddenly thought, “No, you’re right!” I remember thinking, in my solipsistic little way, that in 1977, Fred Dagg stops, and John Clarke in Australia starts. But, it was also the year I was born. And to me there were these two things where one was before I was born, and one was after, both completely in different countries. And I guess, he came to Australia to start again. He got to pause, watch, and listen, and think, and go, “Do I want to do this?”
Fred Dagg was a monologue to him. It was just him and his performance to the camera, and he would always know how to perform his way out of trouble. And then in Australia, he loved editing. He loved sitting in on the editing process of The Games, and the art of editing, and analysing it all. When he did Fred Dagg, he would just borrow the local news camera, film his own stuff and crafting his performance. But when he got a second chance to start his career, he got a chance to be across all parts of those production elements.
Nick: One of the stylistic choices you make in this documentary is to have people like Sam Neill, Rhys Darby, and many other people who were impacted by your dad’s work, read these excerpts from… I’m guessing interviews with your dad?
Lorin Clarke: Well, this is a lovely story, because after my dad died, we were looking for photographs that the news could use. And we checked his laptop, and found this document on his desktop that was called, ‘For Lorin and Lucia’ – which is my sister’s name. And it was his entire life written out by him. He had written everything like, ‘Born. Forceps delivery’. Every detail. All the projects he did, but also the little moments.
Whenever he felt like he was procrastinating, he would go and write in this document. And that is largely what is being read in those beautiful performances. I love the idea that it was this intertextual thing. There’s a quote at the end of the film about collaboration, and how you sort of become each other a little bit. And I loved the idea that they could partly become him, and he could partly become them.
Thank you to Lorin for her time, and to Rialto Distribution and NedCo PR for organising the interview. But Also John Clarke is in Australian cinemas September 4.
