Home and Away “Welcome to Summer Bay”: Rewatching the early years.

[Spells & Karma]

Episodes 324-330

This is 2SB News Watch. Fierce winds have hit local seaside towns. There’s a gale warning for shipping in the Summer Bay area. Conditions are hazardous and all craft in the vicinity should return to port immediately. The freak storm has caught residents by surprise.

Several early Dallas stories came to mind when watching this run of episodes. There’s the storm resulting in two missing characters from Survival. The “batten down the hatches” ambience of Winds Of Vengeance. Auld Acquaintance’s “threat from a blonde ex” (minus the love child) to the series’ dark haired Romeo & Juliet. And Denial’s, erm… denial. But there are added homely Antipodean touches. After all, Miss Ellie never had to fret about Lucy’s invisible friend returning. And Sue Ellen didn’t force Theresa to hunt for sausage grease all over the living room. Well, not that we saw on-screen, anyway.

It could also be argued that these episodes mark the very first of the natural disaster storylines which became something of a series speciality in the Noughties. Though thankfully it feels like an occurrence, rather than an event.

As we join the story, the main storms apparent are those in two marriages. Bobby and Pippa are both feeling undervalued by their respective husbands (call it The Macklin Effect) and in the case of Frank it’s certainly reciprocal.

Pippa is still going through her “I can’t cope alone” crisis and is furious when Tom tells her of his plans for his free time:

Can’t wait to get away.

Away? Where’re you going?

Fishing with Alf. Alf’s hiring a boat for the weekend.

Oh wonderful. You’ve only been home five minutes and you’re talking about going away again. I get tired too, Tom. I need some relaxation. And what about the kids? When are you going to spend some time with them? I’m sick of being father and mother round here. I’m not superwoman, for God’s sake.

The conversation escalates into an argument, and Tom leaves for his trip under a cloud, with Pippa passive-aggressively snubbing him when he goes in for a goodbye kiss.

Pippa goes to chat with Ailsa, admits she overreacted and will make an effort to reconnect with Tom when he gets home that evening, and they share a few warm, upbeat moments. But it proves to be the calm before the literal storm. Their last bit of happiness for a while.

As the skies become greyer and the water choppier on the open ocean, Alf plans to head in, but finds the engine won’t turn over.

Back on land, there are some atmospheric scenes: Pippa, in the kitchen, looks out of the window at the inclement weather with concern; Ailsa in her dimly lit lounge listens to the radio report and looks worried; Morag prepares for a power cut by getting candles out, while Marilyn cowers under a blanket on the sofa.

Once the storm hits and the power is out, there are candlelit scenes at Celia’s and in Morag’s home where Marilyn delights at cooking sausages on the fire, while Morag fumes because Marilyn was too scared to cook while the power was still on during the storm (she makes her seek out the grease spat by the sausages the next morning).

The pairing is proving watchable enough. After all, Cornelia Frances makes up at least fifty percent of it. Morag going from force to be reckoned with to one half of the series’ odd couple at least shows Frances’s adaptability. All the same, I did find myself thinking how much more substantial a gothic, candlelit, moody scene between Morag and Nigel would have been. Sharing dark secrets and sparring verbally.

The tone for Marilyn and Morag’s pairing seems to be well and truly set. Marilyn ditzes away and makes faux pas galore. Morag sighs, rolls her eyes and occasionally bellows. But Marilyn’s guileless simplicity seems to get past Morag’s stony exterior and she invariably softens and shows her humanity. A case in point is when Marilyn, at Morag’s request, serves coffee and port in her own special way, leading to a typical Morag diatribe:

We do not drink coffee from a mug. We drink coffee from a cup with a matching saucer. And this is a whiskey tumbler. We do not drink port from a whiskey tumbler. We drink port from a port glass. And we serve it in a decanter. We do not serve it from a bottle with the cork sticking up.

Marilyn goes all self-deprecating and Morag softens, admits the education system has a lot to answer for and offers to teach Marilyn a little decorum.

Meanwhile, the blackout proves too much for Dodge to resist, as he tells Steven:

Cover for me tonight. Just in case anyone notices I’ve gone walkabout… There’s a lot of fun to be had when the lights go out.

The next morning, both the Bait Shop and the diner have been turned over.

(Incidentally, Celia’s pose and gaping mouth along with the moody shadows, mid-century feel of her clothes and the pop art Campbells tins in the foreground all come together to make it feel very Bill Gillies Nancy Drew).

Steven thinks the coincidence is too great. Until Dodge produces a schoolgirl with whom he was having fun at the time.

continued...​

 

[Spells & Karma]

Episodes 324-330 (...continued)

2SB News Watch. Fears are held for the safety of two local residents who have failed to return from a fishing expedition. Thomas Fletcher and Alfred Stewart were reported missing by concerned relatives when they failed to return home yesterday evening. A sea and land search commenced at first light with Sergeant Bob Barnett of the Summer Bay Police acting as search coordinator. The storm which swept the area last night caused local blackouts when lightning struck a local substation.

Soap denial is one of those double-edged swords. It can create fascination and enrich character as well as driving storylines when people respond to the denial with confusion, hurt or anger. But replicating a state that is, in real life, very frustrating for those around the person means that it can be equally frustrating to watch.

Pippa’s response to Tom’s absence leans towards the latter. Up to this point I’ve been quite a fan of Vanessa Downing’s Pippa, so I’m still undecided if Pippa being so unlikeable during this storyline is because she was doing a poor job or doing her job too well. Or perhaps sub-par writing. Some of my least favourite scenes during this run of episodes have featured Pippa emphatically letting everyone around her know that she’s in denial:

I wish they’d hurry up and come home. I’m gonna wring their necks for worrying us all like this.

There’s some fettuccine in the cupboard. That’s Tom’s favourite. You’d better make extra. He’ll be hungry when he gets home.

Tell them to hurry up. They’re both definitely in the bad books.

Fear of losing Tom and guilt about their last encounter being one of hostility are obviously meant to be the driving forces of Pippa’s actions. Perhaps, too there’s a touch of intuitive omniscience about Tom’s survival. But perhaps not.

Either way, a great deal of Pippa’s responses seem self-centred and attention seeking. Which is possibly quite truthful. I understand what the series is trying to convey: Pippa is distressed and needs to keep busy in order to get through it. There’s even a scene in which, alone, she darns Tom’s trousers and tells him he can stop complaining now, before breaking down.

It’s a sweet scene. But something about it didn’t work for me. It’s very stagey, which can sometimes be an asset to TV. But sometimes stagey scenes work on stage but not screen. Maybe this is one of those cases. Whatever the case, I found myself mentally recreating it with Leila Hayes (probably because the darning and crying and turbocharged housework seems a very Beryl Palmer thing to do). And I have to say the virtual recast improved the scene no end.

And in case we haven’t got the message, Pippa then gets up and actually tells herself she has to keep busy. She makes Sally a new dress that Sally doesn’t want, and then tells everyone Sally insisted. Then she decides to make the dress into new curtains like Maria Von Trapp stuck in rewind. And she curtly cuts off anyone who tries to talk to her about the situation. While Donald tries to discuss it, for instance, she talks over him about something on TV that’s Tom’s favourite and insists on taping it for him.

It all comes to a head when she takes her frustrations out on a minor:

Remember the time when he made Christopher’s cradle. You said it was nicer than anything you’d ever seen in the shop. An’ he made me that toy box too. Remember?

I don’t want to remember. Stop pretending nothing’s wrong. Stop this stupid pretending. We may never see Tom again and you’re making a fuss about a ping-pong table. Just shut up about it.

Pippa’s sentiments, of course, reek of hypocrisy. Until you consider that she’s talking to herself more than she is Sally. After this outburst, she is visibly calmer and becomes nice, accessible Pippa once again. And it’s a relief for the viewer as much as the family, because being held at bay emotionally from our characters can be a confusing time for us.

Roo, likewise, is not having an easy time of it. And a half hearted attempt to pass the time with a game delivers one of those slightly cartoony faux pas, similar to Celia buying Carly liqueur chocolates or Frank sending Carly a greetings card featuring a stick man falling off a cliff while she was accused of killing Gary Samuels. This time it’s Carly who makes the blooper:

What famous Hollywood actress died in a boating accident?

On the plus side, at least Roo knew that it was Natalie Wood. I love the diversity of characters in the room during this scene. In current terms, it’s natural that all would be there. But there are a number of characters who could barely stomach being in the same room as another a year ago, much less support one another. The fluctuating dynamics based on changing relationships can be quite exhilarating when I reflect on it.

Even Morag has called in and found herself stuck in the unnatural role of babysitter. Hilarity ensues.

Roo, meanwhile, is feeling all the more fragile having received a letter from Simon:

Dear Roo,

I was gonna go without contacting you, but I couldn’t do it. I love you too much not to say goodbye… They would never have believed me in court. I hope you understand that. I’m really sorry about blowing your Dad’s money. Tell him I promise to pay it back one day. He’s a good bloke. You’re lucky to have a father like him.

So I guess this is a goodbye letter. I’m going interstate in a few days an’ I won’t see you again. It’s true that I love you more than anything. But it’s also true that I’m bad for you, an’ I don’t want to drag you down with me.

Thanks for everything, Roo. I love you.

Goodbye,

Simon

Even worse, the letter is found by Celia who, after a little soul searching and discussion with Donald, decides to let the police know, getting her into trouble with her niece:

Obviously my feelings didn’t come into it at all… Why did you have to wreck the life of someone I’m close to. Just when Dad’s gone. Thanks a lot. I hope you’re really proud of yourself.

There’s a really nice little moment where Roo enters the store and Celia - expecting trouble - moves quickly back to put the display of tea bags between them.

continued...​

 

[Spells & Karma]

Episodes 324-330 (...continued)

Police hold grave fears for the safety of two Summer Bay fishermen missing at sea for almost three days. The search for Thomas Fletcher and his companion Alfred Stewart has been scaled down after heavy seas and unseasonably cold winds battered the eastern coastline. A police spokesman said hopes are fading fast for the safe recovery of the two family men.

The phrase “life goes on” is usually applicable to soap ensembles. No matter what the major current crisis may be, other characters get on with their daily business of soapy misunderstandings and whatnot. It’s possibly never been truer than for poor Ailsa who has not only to contend with the potential loss of her husband, but also the impending arrival, due in a matter of days. Both being viewed by Ailsa as curses from Mother Nature.

The loss she discusses with her fellow possible fishing widow:

I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Alf. Everything I ever hoped for in life happens and then suddenly it’s taken away…I’m scared, Pippa. I’m trying hard not to be, but if Alf’s gone I don’t know what I’ll do. I love him more than anything.

And the impending arrival with her former arch enemy:

I’m frightened Roo. He probably is. And I’ve got this thing inside me…

It’s not a thing. It’s a baby.

…This thing inside me. And I don’t want it in there anymore… Alf was the one who wanted this baby. Not me. What would I want with a baby [at] my age? …But he was thrilled about it and that made me happy. And now, I’m due in five days. Who’s gonna be there with me. Who’s gonna be helping me through it? Holding my hand? I don’t think I can do it alone.

You won’t have to. I’ll be there. I’ll be with you every minute.

Until the inevitable happens:

Guess what’s four days early?

The birth of Ailsa’s baby is as no-nonsense as the lady herself. All the fuss is made by the people around her. Primarily Celia, of course.

Morag shows up: an event that would have been unthinkable just a short time ago when she threw a baby present at Ailsa before chastising her for possibly lumbering her brother with a disabled child. She has a bit of an agenda - to make up with Roo - but there’s the sense that the support she offers Ailsa is genuine. She spends much time jangling keys from her grey leather key holder. I’ve noticed this happen in a number of scenes recently. It seems to be an idiosyncrasy Cornelia Frances has given Morag and it does add a certain air of authority.

Thirteen months and 242 episodes earlier, Ailsa had quietly married offscreen. Mid-episode #328, she gives birth to Baby Stewart in much the same way. We’re spared scenes of panting and birthing rooms. Instead, Roo comes out to break the news to her two aunts:

I have a little brother. Seven pounds and a great pair of lungs.

Oh, well that’s splendid. How’s Ailsa?

She’s fine. Exhausted, but fine.

A healthy baby. Praise the Lord.

No doubt you will, ad nauseum… All she’s done is have a baby - albeit late in life - and we’ve all done that. Oh, I beg your pardon: some of us haven’t.

This earns Morag Roo’s contempt, and I like the layers here, because it’s becoming evident that Morag doesn’t want the bad feeling. She just can’t help herself when it comes to Celia. Roo’s discovery of Celia’s betrayal comes an episode later, which means there’s conflict every which way between these three.

Meanwhile, it’s evident that Ailsa’s got little time for syrupy gushing visitors:

Oh, what a beautiful boy. Oh, he’s perfect, Ailsa. Perfect in every way… All that pain was well worth it.

How would you know, Celia?

She immediately apologises, but this is even more insightful as it shows the snappiness isn’t something she’s choosing. It’s something she is struggling to keep a lid on. And a more concerning underlying attitude emerges quickly:

D’you know what you’re gonna call him?

I haven’t thought about it yet. Dunno why everyone’s so obsessed with giving it a name straight away… I don’t want a baby, Pippa. I just wanna see Alf again.

There are a number of times when Ailsa refers to her baby as “it”, which points to the extent of her disconnection. and Ailsa herself is worried about it:

Love. I need to know something. When you had your baby… Well, what I mean is: am I supposed to feel clucky? Or is it perfectly normal not wanting to know about it? …I keep trying to dredge up these maternal instincts that I’m supposed to have, and… I just come up empty. I know it sounds awful, but I’m even beginning to wish it had never happened.

It’s probably just because of Dad and everything. He really is beautiful. Can I hold him?

Somebody should. Can’t quite bring myself to.

And there’s another exchange with Celia which covers Ailsa’s current attitude towards faith:

He might be difficult to understand at times but God does have his reasons for doing this.

Like giving somebody false hope when they’d… just accepted the inevitable?

We have to accept his greater judgement. That was one of the things I learned when Les died… If anything does happen, we’ll all be devastated of course. But we have to think of the baby as well. Ensure he’s in an environment full of loving, caring…

Christianity? So I suppose we should be grateful to this god of yours for taking the baby’s father away just when he needed him most. If he really is up there, this god of yours, Celia, then he’s got one hell of a sick sense of humour.

Ailsa. You mustn’t.

I just did.

continued...​

 

[Spells & Karma]

Episodes 324-330 (...continued)

I don’t think Frank loves me… He’s just different these days… Always tired from working late. An’ then when he comes home he just wants to watch TV. We never talk about anything. It’s like we’ve been married a hundred years… Have you ever done something that you thought was really right at the time an’ then had second thoughts? …He’s working late again with Roo. Ya know, every time I see those two together it’s like they’re suited. Like I’m the ugly sister who just happened to luck out.

Whether they’re around the house or out searching for Tom and Alf, Bobby and Frank keep ending up exchanging heated words. Bobby can sense trouble. First she confides in Andrew who is so aroused by the intimacy of giving counsel to a younger woman he lifts up his briefcase to cover his loin area (I kid you not. This actually happens). She also raises the subject with Frank himself:

Frank, I have this awful feeling about us. I don’t want to, but I can’t help it. It’s just that everything seems flat or something. Like all the good times have gone already.

Nah, you’re just imagining things. You’re probably just tired. You have been working pretty hard lately.

Frank goes on to offer to cook dinner and rub Bobby’s back in the bath. She smiles and looks relieved. But when she walks off, Frank looks greatly troubled.

Working closely with Roo with each of their male guardians missing deepens the bond between them.

There’s no-one I can even talk to about it. Except for you.

Their intimate tête-â-têtes continue away from the office. And so does their increasingly friendly body language:

Thanks…for being here.

Hey, I wouldn’t be anywhere else, OK?

I hate to interrupt, but here’s your coffees.

The relationship between Roo and Martin, too, has been interesting. With all the developments it would be easy to forget Martin’s previous crush on Roo. When the workers that Martin is shuttling round in his new “executive” job driving the minibus go on strike, it’s Roo that steps in and stops them rebelling completely in annoyance at Martin’s attitude. She undermines Martin's authority for the greater good, somewhat emasculating him in front of the rowdy male workers. Then, when Alf goes missing, Martin is there to support Roo and she hugs him tearfully.

With Tom missing, and having inexplicably impressed both Peter Bedford and annoying Macklin motivation guru Jay Everitt, Martin has been promoted to take overall charge of the office, and this is when the errors start happening. Martin is actually the catalyst for a significant turning point when he shreds an important document thinking it’s a copy, meaning Frank and Roo have to work late to recreate said document.

She’s working back too, is she? Very convenient.

Look, I don’t need you to start getting jealous of Roo again.

I s’pose Matt was just seeing things at lunchtime, then?

This time together means more intimacy. When Roo cries in concern over Alf, Frank is there to stroke her shoulder and play with her hair.

Significantly, these episodes have seen the return of Frank and Roo’s theme, Have You Ever. This time (mercifully) in instrumental form. Its most notable use was during a scene in which Frank caressed Roo’s leather bound folio and flashed back to a potted history of his entire love life.

With Frank still all hopped up on flashbacks, Roo is present when he gets a phone call with important news:

That was the national sales manager. Martin’s getting the chop and I’ll be taking over from Tom until he’s back… He wants to see me in a couple of days about a promotion. Like, a permanent one… It sounded pretty promising.

Oh, that’s fantastic, Frank. You deserve it. You really do.

Oh dearie me. This can’t end well, can it?

continued...​

 

[Spells & Karma]

Episodes 324-330 (...continued)


Tom and Alf’s lifeboat has hit shore.

And the near death experience brings with it a confession from Alf that harks back to the Pilot:

Floss was right, ya know? …I did cook the books when I sold you the caravan park. I been wantin’ ta tell ya. Feel as guilty as hell about it.

Tom’s response is pleasingly ambiguous and minimal. He might have given a little smile, but he’s so exhausted it’s hard to tell. It’s possible he didn’t hear. Or won’t remember. But perhaps he was struggling to process it. Perhaps he was angry. Or didn’t care. Or knew already. It could be any combination of these. It hasn’t been mentioned again since, and I find myself hoping that it won’t be picked up on again. It’s just one of those things that’s out there that remains something of a secret between the two.

Back at the Bay, Pippa’s crisis has put Sally in an existential mood:

What d’you think it’s like in heaven?

I reckon heaven is what you want it to be. Like Marty… He’d think heaven was bein’ boss of a big company… When I get there, people are gonna respect me, ya know? …Ask my opinion an’ stuff.

And what about Tom?

Well, what he wants more’n anything… is to make sure you lot are OK… So I reckon he’ll get a special seat. Y’know, on the edge. So he can watch over the caravan park. Make sure you’re all safe ’n’ happy.

Maybe he’s up there with my Mum and Dad… So if they’re all together I shouldn’t feel sad.

Nah. I reckon you should feel extra lucky. ‘Cause heaven’s full of people that love ya.

Peter Vroom does sincerity with about as much subtlety as Matt Le Blanc on Friends. All the same, there’s something disarmingly sweet about the friendship between Lance and Sally. On paper, it should be a bit of a worry to people, but Pippa is far more concerned about the return of another of Sally’s old friends: Milco. I love the way this is directed:

A rescue party has discovered the two missing men and they’ve been taken to hospital.

And word quickly reaches Summer Bay:

Ailsa, they found Tom and Alf, and they’re fine. They’re at the Old Bays hospital and they’re suffering from exposure but they’re fine. They reckon Tom fractured a couple of ribs and Alf’s got a twisted ankle. I’m about to drive over there now, so shall I break the news to Alf?

I’ll tell him myself.

This leads to a great moment in which Morag, once she’s realised nothing will stop Ailsa, starts flapping and talking nineteen to the dozen in the background about how she’s going to charter a seaplane because no sister-in-law of hers who’s just had a baby is going to endure a long taxi journey. It feels very much like ad libs on the part of Cornelia Frances, but either way it’s great fun.

Whether it’s by taxi or seaplane, Ailsa, Pippa and Roo arrive at the hospital en masse:

Ailse. You shouldn’t o’ come in your cond… [he looks at her flat tummy] Is there somethin’ I should know about?

And just like that the news is broken.

There’s another lovely Tom/Alf scene in their darkened hospital ward when everyone else has gone and things are still and quiet:

Lying out there, ya know? Had the weirdest ideas. I thought I was gonna miss Frank an’ Bobby’s first wedding anniversary. An’ I thought Pip’s gonna be so mad… ‘cause she won’t get any help changing Christopher’s nappies.

Yeah. I s’pose I’ll be changin’ a few nappies meself, shortly… I reckon this kid’s gonna make a big difference to Ailsa.

Unknown to Alf, Ailsa has neglected to contact the hospital to arrange to pick up her baby from the hospital. Pippa shows up, concerned that Ailsa’s phone isn’t working, only to find it’s all quite deliberate:

I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Pippa. I don’t want to bring him home. It’s great, isn’t it. A mother who doesn’t want to even bring her own child home… I can’t… I just can’t.

 

[Spells & Karma]

Episodes 331-336


The circle of soap life is doing its circly thing at the moment. One person’s new beginning is the close of a chapter for another. The air is thick with potential endings. And as in life during times of ending, there’s also an element of nostalgia that connects to series history. Indeed, there have been more flashbacks in this short run of episodes than ever before.

Frank and Roo’s kiss, which was a shock - albeit no surprise - at the end of the last run of episodes, is not the cause of the breakdown of Frank’s marriage to Bobby, but a symptom.

It’s interesting to see Frank and Roo respond in very different ways to the chemistry between them. For Frank it’s but the beginning of a new life and a means of escape. While for Roo even entertaining such an idea would be a validation of her previous reputation. One she has worked hard to leave behind:

What if they do offer me this job in the city? Do I take it or what? I’ve gotta know how it stands between you an’ me.

Like I said, there’s nothing to talk about What happened yesterday was an accident. You mean nothing to me, Frank. Nothing.

Bobby is unaware that her husband is swapping spit with his exes. But she is certain that there’s a major problem in her marriage. What’s not so certain for her is whether or not she wants to fight to save it. Helping her with that decision are her foster mother and biological father. I love that Donald and Pippa have been teaming up so much over the problems in Bobby and Frank’s marriage. Their one-to-ones are very special. As are Donald and Bobby’s chats, which dip into series pre-history:

One of the biggest mistakes Barbara and I made was not admitting we had a problem… We could have made it work. Neither of us was sufficiently motivated, I suppose.

If you knew it was gonna happen and you both loved each other, why didn’t you do something about it?

We had different expectations of life. Different ambitions… Neither one of us was prepared to compromise. And so eventually we went our separate ways. But only after a great deal of unpleasantness.

Well, did you ever regret it?

Yes. Often.

With Roo fleeing the office after The Kiss, Bobby comes to the office to find Frank alone.:

I wanted to make sure that you don’t make any plans for tonight.

Why?

It’s a surprise… Put it this way, Frank. I’m meeting you halfway.

For Bobby to overcome her pride like this is no small thing. And it adds to the importance of the evening going well.


Meanwhile, Roo returns to find Frank kissing Bobby. And when Frank leaves Bobby confides in an uncomfortable Roo:

Sorry to barge in on you like that.

Ah no, it’s OK. Anyway. we’ll have plenty of opportunities tonight. I’m gonna take Frank out so things can be just like old times.

And when Bobby says “just like old times”, she means “just like old times”. And so she meets Frank with a huge bunch of flowers and takes him out to where the Rolls is waiting.

Naturally, Frank is whisked to that special place. The place where he made the “lifetime of fish and chips” speech and where they toasted their future with Coca Cola. Back then, it was Bobby who was surprised. This time, Frank is as sullen and uncommunicative as she was hopeful and engaging. He is determined not to have a good time. It helps not that Bobby in her zeal to be bubbly goes over the top by spraying Frank’s cream suit with Coke, which makes him stroppier. He refuses to make conversation and clearly has a wall up:

Come on Frank. This isn’t fair. You’re not even trying… Do you want us to work or not? Because I don’t think you do. Frank, what’s happening to us?

Well, we could go home.

Why? Is there something you want to watch on TV?

No. You said Don wasn’t gonna be there. We could have a bit of privacy.

Not yet. Not until we’ve talked.

Look, let’s just go home. [he puts his hand on her shoulder]

[brushing his arm away] Why? What would that solve? There’s still tomorrow morning.

To give Alex Papps his due, he’s not afraid to go unlikeable. In fact the only time Frank has been more difficult to like was in the Pilot episode. In fact he’s the image of a pouty brat. And it somehow seems in character for Frank to want to sidestep the reality of the situation with a little nooky.

Roo starts looking for ways to avoid Frank, and the new arrival paired with Ailsa’s lack of interest presents her with an excuse:

I could quit Macklins and stay at home and help out with the baby… I’d like to. I really would.

No, love. No, you can’t give up a perfectly good job. No way.

With options running out, Roo drops in at the drop-in:

I just wanted to see if you had anything in your books about what you’re s’posed to do if you’re in love with a married man.

continued...​

 

[Spells & Karma]

Episodes 331-336 (...continued)

Frank doesn’t love me anymore… And this is the bit that’ll really freak you out: I don’t care… Frank doesn’t love me, an’ I don’t give a stuff.

As things simmer up towards boiling point, the three key players in this piece actually spend a great deal of time operating independently of one another. Bobby confides in Donald while Frank avoids her. And Roo has sought out a relatively neutral party:

I didn’t want it to happen. I guess everyone says that but it’s true… I thought I could handle it. I never stopped loving Frank. Can’t help it. You love someone, you love them. Can’t just switch off when things change.

You mean when Frank married Bobby

That was about the worst day of my life. No, giving up Martha was probably the worst, but it comes close… Frank’s got no right to put this pressure on me. It’s not fair… Bobby doesn’t deserve to have this happen to her. Not after all the other horrible things.

It hasn’t been a bed of roses for you either, you know.

Yeah, but I brought most of that on myself. An’ that’s another thing. I’m tryin’ to live all that stuff down… I had a really lousy reputation round here for a long time. Well, I’m not gonna add breaking up Bobby’s marriage to the list of things I’m s’posed to have done. It just isn’t fair of Frank to play around with my feelings like this. The worst thing is, he’s saying things that deep down I really wanna hear.

Peter Bensley’s Shacting is really irritating me. At this point I can barely stand watching him. Lance and Martin scenes are a joy in comparison. Andew’s scenes invariably feature his arms flying about all over the place. Weird pauses. Fake laughs. Eccentric hand gestures and head tilts. By recent standards he’s fairly restrained in the scene with Roo, though even here Bensley seems to spend much of the time trying to draw the viewer’s attention away from Justine Clarke’s moving stillness by fidgeting with his pencil, rubbing it over his face, balancing it it under his nose. Putting his feet on the desk. Or simply staring intently at her while her back is turned. He’s mostly successful at getting my attention by devious means and I’m starting to resent him for it because it’s not for the good of the series. It’s just that his mannerisms are so distracting. He really doesn’t feel like an ensemble player. Carly’s mid-year exam results have just come through, but we won’t say too much because it involves a great deal of Andrew.

Carly, though, does have a great little one-to-one with Bobby over the kitchen table:

All this stuff about you an’ Frank sorting it out. Is that for real or just for Pippa’s benefit?

I dunno. You see, it’s been worse than a bad patch. An’ I’m not sure if I want it to work out anymore.

The scene implicitly shows the growth these two have made over the last year. Both sensible, grown up and pragmatic. And with genuine care for one another. It’s good to see.


Bobby is also talking things through with Donald:

There was me: the biggest dag in town. An’ there was Frank: minus the shining armour and everything, but the girls were crazy about him just the same. An’ he chose me. I couldn’t believe my luck. I guess that’s why I got rushed into marriage an’ stuff. I was so happy. It was almost too much. Deep down I was scared it couldn’t last.

In a nice touch, Donald also tries to get through to Frank and offers his support. Something which Frank sulkily acknowledges while making clear he has no intention of taking him up on it. Though he’s not so shy when it comes to making time to speak to Roo:

I love you. An’ I know you love me.

I don’t. What does it matter anyway? You’re with Bobby now.

I don’t love her.

It’s between you and her. I don’t want to be any part of it, so just don’t drag me into it, OK?

This takes Frank in a direction that’s even more sordid and slimy than even kissing his ex-girlfriend. There’s the sense that he’s bored in his marriage but won’t bail until he’s certain he’ll have a warm fanny waiting for him. It’s incredibly ugly, but also feels very truthful for a nineteen year old with a dysfunctional past who has married in haste.

Roo eventually decides that the solution is to quit her job for good. A situation Tom walks in on when he returns to work:

What’s going on here? I come in and Roo rushes out there in tears. And you’re behaving as if you’ve just got the sack; not a major promotion… You gonna tell me what it is? Or do I have to charge out there and ask Roo?

continued...​

 

[Spells & Karma]

Episodes 331-336 (...continued)


With Tom pretty much working everything out, Frank finally tells him the truth. So when Alf comes looking for Roo and asks Tom what the problem is, Tom has little choice but to fill him in also. In a nice touch, Ailsa checks with Alf that he plans to go easy on Roo because it’s not her fault. And he does:

I couldn’t go back there. Don’t ask me why. I just can’t.

I know why, love. Tom told me… At least we know, now. An’ we’ll stand by you… In the meantime it’s probably better if you stay away from Frank. Let him sort out his own problems.

That’s what I’ve been trying to do.

You’re doing the right thing, love.

Yeah? Then why do I feel so awful about it? I love him, Dad. I tried to forget about him when he married Bobby, but I couldn’t. I never will.

In stark contrast with Bensley’s “look Mum, I'm acting” business in the background of her earlier confession, Meagher’s subtle performance here is very much appreciated. He allows Justine Clarke to do her thing and is simply there. The end result is a winning scene for both.

Meanwhile, Donald finds Frank sulking at the beach, only for Frank to walk off when Donald tries to persuade him to talk to Bobby:

Oh yes, that’s right. Run away, Frank. Anything’s better than having to face up to your responsibilities, isn’t it? Well, let me tell you: whether you like it or not, you future - with or without Bobby - is your responsibility. And no-one else’s.

And so the magic pairing of Donald and Pippa springs into action again as they respectively persuade Frank and Bobby to clear the air. All under the delighted eagle eyes of Betty Falwell, who had earlier seen Frank and Roo having an intimate outdoor conversation:

Oh, I get it. Wouldn’t come of your own free will, would you? How did you get him here without handcuffs?

Give me a break. It hasn’t been easy. And what I have to tell you. That’s not gonna be easy either. Will you hear me out or what?

In his married life - in this particular relationship - Frank has become a man who would do anything rather than be honest. He looks for any means of escaping the truth. Even when the opportunity to talk is handed to him on a platter, Frank still continues to clam up and it’s very easy to get on board with Bobby’s frustration:

It’s the same old thing. I always have to do all the talking and come up with all the answers. Oh, Frank. Why don’t you just be honest for once. Why don’t you just come out and say it. Bobby, I want out.

I guess I’ve been putting it off because I’ve been trying to think of an easy way to say it. But there isn’t one. You’re right: I do want out. I’m sorry… I don’t love you anymore.

By the time it comes, Frank’s truthfulness is all the more potent because of how hard he’s worked to keep it hidden. It’s simple, honest and necessarily brutal. I found myself wondering if he would have found the courage to be so honest if he didn’t have a backup plan - if he hadn’t done the groundwork with Roo. But the writing capitalises on this question by bringing it into plain sight and acknowledging it as the reason for Frank’s admission:

Is this weird.. Us talking like this, I mean.

Yeah. It’s called honesty. We had it at the start. We should’ve stuck with it. An’ who knows - we might have even clocked up six months.

Nah. I would’ve worked out a way to tell you by then. I didn’t have any choice, once I realised how I still feel about Roo.

What do ya mean, how you feel about Roo?

Bobby, you must know.

No, I don’t. An’ I reckon it’s about time you told me.

Frank’s casual confession further demonstrates the miscommunication between them. He assumed she knew. She had no idea. Just when they’d reached an understanding and the lines of communication were open, clear waters become muddy again. Immediately.

While we as viewers knew there was more to the story, we could also empathise and enjoy the relief that they were both accepting the split as the right thing. But Frank’s slip of the tongue makes the situation far worse than it had been before.

Bobby is quick to confront Roo about it:

You know, you really had me sucked in there with your “I wanna be best buddies” routine. And all along you were just killing time, waiting for your second chance with Frank… Frank an’ me split up because of you, so you’re the one who has to live with it. Not me.

continued...​

 

[Spells & Karma]

Episodes 331-336 (...continued)


The relationship between Bobby and Ailsa is particularly interesting at the moment. Ailsa is quick to defend Roo to the point of rejecting Bobby. An earlier scene had seen Bobby come to Ailsa asking for guidance, unaware that she was suffering post-natal depression. Ailsa had sent Bobby away, unable to cope with the additional stress and Bobby had immediately been concerned for Ailsa, ticking Donald off for not warning her before she dumped her problems onto Ailsa.

In light of the blow up with Roo, Bobby is angry with Ailsa. When the latter comes to find Bobby, who has slept at the diner, Bobby’s sympathy has gone and she angrily reminds Ailsa that she’s twice rejected her in recent days. They make up and talk things over, but their strained relationship is proving interesting. They’ve always been straight down the line with each other, and for them to be facing extreme difficulties without this level of support could prove challenging for them both.

Initially choosing to leave the baby in the hospital, Ailsa ran to find the one person she thought would understand her situation:

You can’t possibly leave him in the hands of small town medical staff. He’d be better off in a monkey enclosure… You’re the child’s mother.

You were Bobby’s mother. That didn’t stop you abandoning her.

Thanks for the reminder.

I don’t want the baby. I don’t want anything to do with it. I was hoping you of all people would be able to understand.

This deepens the bond between the two former enemies. As always it’s wonderful to see these two Sons and Daughters actresses spark off each other again. Ailsa moves in to stay with Morag who makes plans for a nanny and sends Marilyn for supplies. As Roo discovers when trying to persuade Ailsa to return home, the baby supplies include a very topical-in-March-2020 accessory to protect the baby from germs:

Naturally, Alf hits the roof on leaving hospital and learning Ailsa’s whereabouts and charges over, only to find that Ailsa is ahead of him, leaving Morag somewhat defeated:

I’m ready to go now, Alf. Sorry if you’ve been worried.

Are you sure, Ailsa?

It’ll be all right, Morag. Thanks for everything.

Ailsa’s current insular state means that while she’s present she’s not involved in her new son’s life to any meaningful degree. Even though her words say she’s OK with things, pained regret is writ large on Ailsa’s face when choice after choice is taken away from her:

He can’t go through life being called “mate”, can he? Has anybody got any ideas?

Well, I was in favour of biblical names, but last night… Well, what do you think of “Duncan”?

You mean after Granddad?

Yes. Oh, it would be so lovely to have a real Scottish name in the Stewart family again.

Yeah. Yeah, Duncan’s not bad, is it? Whaddaya reckon, Ailse?

[disinterested] Yeah. Duncan’s fine. [trying to sound enthused and forcing a smile] It’s a really nice name.

Good. Then it’s unanimous then, eh?

Ailsa excuses herself to make coffee and as she turns to watch from the doorway her expression breaks your heart:

Morag isn’t the only member of the family who can understand how Ailsa’s feeling. Once again, it’s tied into series history:

Don’t blame Dad. He doesn’t understand. I mean, how can he. He’s never been through it. Auntie Celia either… Everybody just keeps saying you’ll get over it. They don’t understand, do they? I remember one time… when Martha wouldn’t stop crying. I just wanted to pick her up and shake her, and shake her. And that was so terrible. Because I did love her, Ailsa. I really did. Nobody believed that. And when I wouldn’t go and see her I hated myself but there was nothing I could do about it. So don’t feel like you’re all alone. Because I know what you’re going through.

And when times dictate Ailsa interacts with Duncan, nerves are frayed:

Alf, can you see if you can shut him up? Nothing I do makes any difference… What is wrong with him? All night without a break. Other kids don’t bawl like that.

Judy Nunn is just wonderful at the moment as Ailsa’s mental health deteriorates. There’s a sense that she’s not worried about vanity or being liked. She’s digging deep and showing us facets of Ailsa’s self that are previously little scene. It taps into the clenched teeth, frayed nerve, chewed nail rawness of the episodes immediately following the reveal that she killed her father. In turn, this reminds us that Ailsa, when pushed to the edge, is capable of reacting forcefully. Even violently. Which makes this arc feel enjoyably unpredictable and unsafe.

continued...​

 

[Spells & Karma]

Episodes 331-336 (...continued)



Perhaps more than any departing character to date, Frank embarks on a series of long goodbyes:

Over at Summer Bay House, there are definitive farewells to his foster family:

Good luck, Frank. Thanks for everything. Don’t be surprised if Dodge and I come an’ pay you a visit.

Yeah, thanks Steve.

Bobby an’ me should’ve listened to you and Tom from the start.

Look after yourself, sweetheart. We’ll miss you.

Listen, will you do me a favour an’ look after Bobby? She’s not as tough as she makes out.

Seeya later, Carls.

Good luck with everything.

Don’t forget to send me an invite to the wedding.

Well, I’ll seeya then.

And with that parting shot, Frank flies the nest, but we we stay with him, this time on location at the house exterior for his goodbye to Sally while Tom waits in the car:

I know you’re mad at me because of Bob, and I’m sorry it had to happen… Willya come and see me sometime?

If Pippa says I can.

Ah, I love you, Sal. Well, do you still love me?

[she nods] ‘Bye.

We next see Frank at the Macklin interior where he hands over to Tom. We see Frank pick up a framed picture of Bobby and appears to put it in the box to take with him (though he could possibly have just put it into the drawer).

As they stand in the reception area in front of the lifts, Tom and Frank have a moment:

Well, I s’pose this is the moment when I should make one last ditch attempt to get you to stay and face up to your responsibilities. [there’s a pause, then he hugs Frank] Ah, be happy, Frank. That’s all Pip an’ I want for any of our kids.

The moment is interrupted by Celia:

How very convenient. A new job, far away from Summer Bay. Leaving the lives of two young girls in tatters. Don’t walk away from me while I’m talking to you.

Celia, either I walk away or I do something violent.

Oh. You wouldn’t dare.

Jeez, you’re an interfering old bag, Celia. An’ if you and the rest of the troublemakers around this place’d mind your own business, Bobby and Roo’d have a better chance of getting their acts together.

When Celia complains, Tom comments that some of what Frank said made sense. Indeed, it’s one of those scenes in which everyone actually makes some very valid points, even if they struggle to see beyond one side of it.

In anticipation of this ending, there’s been something of a flashback trend in recent episodes. In particular, elements of the Bobby/Frank/Roo triangle have returned. In general I’m not a fan of flashbacks, but they have been used judiciously here. Importantly, it feels like the characters - rather than the series itself - are reflecting. Sometimes nostalgically. Sometimes regretfully. Always seeking answers to find themselves in the present moment.

Frank had another series of connected flashbacks which began with he and Bobby telling Narelle they’re an item outside the store, after drenching each other (Narelle is seen for the entire flashback, but doesn’t speak); this segues to Bobby and Frank kissing on the beach; Bobby coming to the flat to accept his proposal; their wedding vows, and clip from after they got together of Bobby telling Frank not to let her down again or he’ll be sorry.

The final flashback is Bobby’s as she remembers the “lifetime of fish and chips” scene. There are three key elements that make this the most powerful flashback yet. Firstly, Bobby herself sits at the same spot in the persent moment as she remembers. Secondly is the recent botched picnic in the same spot being fresh in the mind as a contrasting reminder of how things have fallen apart. Thirdly is the most beautiful piano rendition of Mike Perjanik’s haunting theme for Bobby that plays out over the flashback.

Then, in the present,. Frank says her name, startling her back to the reality of today:

Look, if you hate my guts I don’t blame you. But there’s a couple of things you’ve gotta understand. First of all, it’s not Roo’s fault, so don’t give her a hard time. She doesn’t deserve it.

Yeah. I know that, Frank. But it doesn’t mean I’m going to be able to forgive her.

Look, I never meant to hurt you, Bobby. I’ve got some good memories. Hope you have as well.

Yeah, I do. I didn’t think I would but I do. [she stands up and faces him] Well, good luck in your new job. I’m sure you’ll do well.

Yeah. An’ if you need anything just…

Yeah, well thanks Frank. But I think I can look after myself. I’m used to it.

I appreciated the flashes of anger from Bobby and would have expected nothing else. In a nice touch, she’s holding a piece of wood as she stands up and the posture looks a little threatening. As she walks off, she throws the wood away and it feels as though she’s symbolically casting away so much more.

The last moments of the episode feel like an Aussie teen tribute to ABBA - circa Knowing Me, Knowing You - as Bobby walks off through the wood while Frank turns and walks in the opposite direction. She glances back briefly over her shoulder before turning and walking purposefully away. Frank watches her, turns and walks and then glances back again, looking at the spot where he had everything. And where he threw it away.

 

[James from London]

Matt dumping Carly was a little on the harsh side, but this is one of the cruellest things I’ve seen a character do on the series. Mostly because of how coldly manipulative it seems, and how much groundwork went into it. But also because it’s a completely unemotional decision. Matt’s someone who’s uninvolved. Yes, Alison is bitchy and has stirred up a lot of trouble for many people over her whole time on the series. But I don’t believe she’s ever crossed Matt. His willing participation in this scheme, culminating in someone’s public humiliation, and the matter of fact way he brutalises someone’s feelings makes him seem very small and ugly indeed. Some might say sociopathic. It’s probably not helped by Greg Benson’s range. Matt seems as detached as ever during this scene. And conversely, kind of into it at the same time.

Outside the diner, Matt says:
Frank smilingly agrees. But it feels very perfunctory. One gets the sense that the words are being said to salve their own consciences rather than out of genuine remorse. Because it’s what good people say after screwing someone over so badly. Equally, it’s easy to believe they’d do the same again tomorrow, and have the same conversation afterwards. Like the Catholic who ends up confessing to the same thing over and over. Because that’s the right thing to do.

Really interesting! It kinda sounds like the internet before the internet and reminded me of this:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/So_You've_Been_Publicly_Shamed

 

[Spells & Karma]

It kinda sounds like the internet before the internet

Yeah. Now you mention it, it does.

and reminded me of this

Now that's an interesting topic for a book. Have you read it?

 

[James from London]

Now that's an interesting topic for a book. Have you read it?

Yeah, it's really fascinating. And I've just discovered there's also a podcast version:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p07h3hhp/episodes/downloads

Fab thread, by the way!

 

[Spells & Karma]

Yeah, it's really fascinating. And I've just discovered there's also a podcast version

I just had a listen to the introduction and got the impression it's quite a journey for the author/narrator as much as anyone.

Fab thread, by the way!

Thanks. I'm glad you're enjoying it. I'm loving my revisit to Summer Bay.

 

[James from London]

note the greengrocer’s apostrophe. I like to think it’s deliberate, to reinforce what a naff rag The Star is

In that case, there's no shortage of naff rags in Aussie Soap Land:

https://pbs.twimg.com/media/ELhd1LWXUAAf3LY?format=jpg&name=large

 

[Spells & Karma]

In that case, there's no shortage of naff rags in Aussie Soap Land

Ha. Yes.

Although it's kind of technically accidentally accurate since more than Gordon's wives have lived there (and who knows, perhaps it even pre-empts the untold story of swinging Gordon's bigamy).

 

[Spells & Karma]

Episodes 336-340


It’s fair to say that emotions have been running high in the Bay this week. There have been big decisions. There have been long goodbyes. There have been family tensions. There have been major meltdowns.

Comings and goings have included the departure of two key original characters and the return of a supporting character not on screen for some time.

The returnee - Colleen Smart - is immediately back in the thick of it. In the space of a couple of hours she manages to distress Celia, Bobby and Sally with her gossip about Frank and Roo:

You always thought you were a cut above. Always first in the front pew of a Sunday. Well, Miss Goody Two Shoes, who do ya think they’re laughin’ at now? ‘Cause while you’ve been suckin’ up to Reverend Flowers, your niece has been the town trollop.

You can tell me about it, dear. I’ve suffered too… While you’ve been workin’ like a little trojan an’ Frank’s been off with that Ruth Stewart floozy… Men are all the same. One look at a pretty face an’ the homemakers like you an’ me, we’re left right behind.

After overhearing the latter conversation, Sally goes all the way to the Macklin office to launch into a tirade against Roo, calling her a pig into the bargain.

Roo is so shocked she takes the rest of the day off. And when Martin asks how she is, she decides to give him the juice she’s certain he wants:

Of course it’s true. It’s all true. Every last word. Frank an’ I were having a sleazy affair while Bobby was slaving her guts out at the diner. An’ we didn’t care less. We were laughing at her behind her back because she was so dumb she didn’t even realise. That’s what you wanted to hear, wasn’t it?

Donald overhearing Roo’s outburst isn’t the only irony. Up to this point, Martin and Lance had been vocally defending Roo to anyone who put her down. As had Celia, until Donald sets her straight:

Don’t give me that “poor Ruth” business… I was hoping I wouldn’t have to tell you… but I won’t have Ruth treated like the martyr when it’s poor Bobby that’s doing all the suffering. It is true. Frank and Ruth have been having an affair. I heard Ruth telling Martin Dibble quite openly in the street. Well, gloating might be a better word for it.

Donald then has to make the decision about whether or not to enlighten his daughter:

Lance said Roo told Martin that she and Frank had been having an affair… Frank an’ Roo promised me that nothing was going on. And even though we’d only been married four months he wouldn’t lie to me about something like that. I know he wouldn’t.

Bobby, you’re the last person in the world I would ever want to hurt. You know that. But the thought of you being deceived or made some kind of laughing stock is more than I can bear. You deserve better. You deserve the truth. It is true. I overheard Ruth telling Martin myself. I’m so sorry.

Dad, what did I do wrong?

I can’t think of a Donald/Bobby scene I don’t like, and this is no exception. Unless I’ve missed something, I believe this is the first time Bobby has called Donald “Dad”. There’s so much going on in the scene that it would be easy to overlook. Indeed, it’s said so casually I’m still not certain I didn’t mishear.

Realising the damage that’s been done, Roo - with a little encouragement from Ailsa - comes to the diner to see Bobby. Their initial conversation is front of house and Bobby is putting the finishing touches to milkshakes with an aerosol of whipped cream.

I have to talk to you. Please. I want you to know the truth.

Get out.

I’m not going until you hear what I have to say. Frank didn’t leave because of me.

Aw, like hell he didn’t. If you’re not out of here in ten seconds flat I’m gonna smash your ugly face in.

Roo follows Bobby around and even grabs her a couple of times. It’s to the series’ credit that the high road is taken and the obvious cliche of Roo ending up Faraged is avoided.

The conversation continues in the kitchen. As they speak, Bobby brandishes, among other things, a large kitchen knife. Roo takes her chances and perseveres:

OK. Say what you’ve gotta say. Then get out.

Uh, I can’t say I don’t love Frank. No-one’s ever meant so much to me. But at the same time I caused him a lot of pain and I’ll always regret that. I screwed up, Bobby. An’ you were the one who rescued him and helped pick up the pieces. I knew he was yours but, well, I couldn’t forget him.

Yeah, an’ you just couldn’t keep your paws off each other no matter how hard you tried.

No. He loved being married to you. He was happy. I would never have done anything to mess that up. An’ then he changed. Something was wrong and finally he told me things weren’t working out. Believe me, Bobby. I was sorry… It’s true. I swear. Nothing went on between us… No-one set out to wreck your marriage. Not Frank. Not me. I swear. D’you believe me?

Yeah. I believe you. But it still hurts.

What started off as a catfight-in-waiting became a substantial scene of moving intimacy between two young women with a complex layered relationship. And this is just the tip of the iceberg.

continued...​

 

[Spells & Karma]

Episodes 336-340 (...continued)

Trust a girl like Marilyn to make herself comfy in a place like this… Marilyn tryin’ ta bleed Lancie out of his last cent. Ta say nothin’ of young Ruth’s disgustin’ behaviour. Her an’ Frank Morgan. Racin’ him off the way she did. I feel so sorry for poor little Bobby… Your niece is a homewrecker. An’ proud of it.

Not content with causing trouble for half the town, Colleen guns for the other half when she marches into Blaxland determined to give Marilyn, who is out shopping, a piece of her mind. Any scene between Hopeless Hickey and Pudge Stewart is very welcome. As usual, Morag rolls her eyes and looks down her nose while Colleen marvels at the splendour of the mansion and tut tuts at Marilyn ingratiating herself with the “rich and famous” while draining Lance’s bank account (she’s just discovered Lance is broke again, having blown his lotto winnings).

When Marilyn arrives, Colleen thinks her concerns are justified:

My. Don’t you look flash. Amazing. On a housekeeper’s wage.

But the two become firm friends when it’s clear that Marilyn is interested in Lance and not his money. Now impressed with her Lancie’s glamorous girlfriend, Colleen invites her for a meal at Lance’s place and is a little taken aback when Marilyn quotes from the Bible:

I didn’t know you were religious, Marilyn.

We used to have to learn bits of the Bible off by heart when I was at the orphanage.

You were an orphan?

Well, I still am… It’s not so bad once you get used to it. At the institution, I mean. They were really nice to me… I did stay at my Auntie Joan’s for a while. But she used to hit the bottle and push me around a bit, so I had to leave. I stayed at my grandma’s too. Nana Chambers. She was a real sweetie. But that didn’t last very long either, because she had a cononary [sic]. I s’pose I was a bit lonely for a while. Missed my parents something terrible. They were absolutely wonderful parents. I waved them off to bingo that night, an’ they never came back. I was eleven.

Well, that’s the saddest story I’ve ever heard… I have nothing but admiration for you. Oh, such strength. It humbles me. This girl is an angel, Lancie. An absolute angel.

With Marilyn’s flightiness, it’s hard to say how much of her story is true. Still, it’s something that there’s now a little backstory: even if it feels a little superfluous.


Milco is now well and truly back in Sally’s life, to Tom and Pippa’s great concern. It’s a concern for me also, since I struggle with the spelling. I’ve always spelt it with a “k”. Apparently it’s actually with a “c”. But it’s possible this was a retcon when the “real” Milco was introduced to the series some eighteen years on from these episodes. Long story short, apologies if I have it wrong either way.

However it’s spelt, he’s certainly been at the centre of some storylines this week. For example Sally blames Milco for telling her to say the nasty things to Roo. And when Sally removes all the badges from Dodge’s trademark coat, she says it’s because Milco wanted them.

Dodge is naturally livid and after trying to physically attack Sally takes his frustration out verbally on Pippa:

Seems you can get away with anything round here if you’re one of the favourites. Which kinda leaves me out in the cold, doesn’t it?

He bides his time for a short while, being cheerful and overly friendly to Sally. Then he picks his moment while Steven and Pippa watch on in horror:

Been talkin’ to Milco lately? I was talkin’ to him meself this mornin’… Ya know what the real problem is? He’s bored with you, Sal. He said he doesn’t like you anymore so he’s lookin’ for a new friend. He likes me now.

He doesn’t like you. He likes me.

Would I tell a lie. He doesn’t wanna see you anymore.

He didn’t tell you anything.

Who didn’t tell you anything.

Dodge says Milco doesn’t like me anymore.

He told me so himself this mornin’.

Dodge. That’s enough.

Sorry Sal. I win. You lose. Milco’s mine now.

He’s not.

You get out of here and leave Sally alone.

You just can’t handle the fact that Milco likes me better than ‘e likes you.

He doesn’t.

Why not? Why can’t Milco like me better than ‘e likes you?

Because…

I’m calling Tom. You’re in big trouble.

Because what? Tell me, Sal. Tell me. Tell me.

Because he doesn’t exist. That’s why. Milco can’t be your friend because there’s no such person.

[She runs out of the room in tears]

Well, fancy that. Milco doesn’t exist. I’d never’ve guessed.

The scene is effective on a number of levels: the vast difference in age and size between the bully and the bullied; Sally’s obvious distress; Dodge’s enjoyment of the moment; the quickfire dialogue with different characters interjecting, and all with different agendas. Steven and Pippa’s concern helps it feel important that Sally is protected and adds to the sense of dramatic failure when she isn’t.

And Dodge gets away with the tactics with the argument that the end justifies the means. Milco is gone and he’s possibly saved them a bill for Sally’s therapy. Possibly.

continued...
​

 

[Spells & Karma]

Episodes 336-340 (...continued)

You shouldn’t be on the streets after dark, little girl. Boogeyman might get ya.

I’m going home.

Not yet, you’re not. Slag.

As if Roo didn’t have enough drama going on in her final run of episodes, she also comes dangerously close to the dubious claim of being the series’ first gang rape victim.

Even back in the day, it was unthinkable that the series would cross that line, however the direction in particular seems to push things to the limits of what’s acceptable in a teatime series watched by pre-teens.

It’s certainly a very different approach from the highly euphemistic portrayal of Carly’s rape the previous year, which was kept tastefully out of sight. This time round we see shots of Roo surrounded by Revhead and his thuggish friends, crying as she is shaken and sexual threats are made (apparently so, anyway. The few fragments that can be heard don’t sound particularly wholesome).

In a strange sort of way, to those familiar with the “rules”, the degree of onscreen threat is a sign that the assault won’t be followed through. Not in a series of this kind, at this time. You can have the threat. You can have the assault. But not both. It would just be too much.

Even the threat itself is broken up as two witnesses come along. And so a highly subjective shot of Revhead threatening Roo before placing his hand over her mouth - filmed from between and below them - is interspersed with the same event shown from a safe, objective distance as we see what Bobby and Carly can see.

The fact that it’s these two of all people who stumble upon the scene gives this unpleasantness a whole shot of soapiness as they bring baggage with them. Carly herself had experienced similar trauma not so long ago, while Bobby’s relationship with Roo is more complex than ever. Neither of these facts are dwelt on. There’s not even a glimmer of a moral dilemma for Bobby. She’s straight in there. Carly, understandably, is more hesitant to get involved but does so all the same.

Even though Revhead’s friends ask the two newcomers if they want to join “the party”, it’s clear at this point that The Danger is well and truly over. The intervention has already reduced the threat tenfold. And the scene is no longer about a potential assault but about three women experiencing breakthroughs in challenging personal demons or reaching an understanding.

On top of this comes yet another layer: a character introduction. A generic blonde surfie type distracts Revhead and his gang by driving off in his car. Which gives Roo, Bobby and Carly the opportunity to take flight.

Back at Donald’s, Carly gives Roo brandy (“for medicinal purposes”), and they discuss the situation:

We should call Sergeant Barnett.

There’s no point in reporting it. The cops can’t do anything. There’s no proof.

We can’t just let them get away with it.

They’d only make up some story an’ get their friends to back them up. It would be our word against theirs.

They should be locked up.

Well take a look at a newspaper. The law spends more time protecting the crim than the victim.

Yeah. The victim has to live with the pain for the rest of her life while the creep gets off with a suspended sentence because he’s been a good boy in jail. No justice.

What if they do it to somebody else.

They probably will. It’s nothing to them. They’re big men.

If they are caught they usually make up a whole heap of excuses… her dress was too short. She’s a teaser. My mother beat me. I’m underprivileged… Anything but the real reason. Scum.

It’s interesting that Roo - the victim - is keen to contact the police but her repeated concerns are shot down again and again by the other two.


The conversation moves on to Roo’s current situation:

It’s like the whole of Summer Bay has put a curse on me… Every time I turn a corner something else goes wrong… I hate this place.

Well, why don’t you go to the city.

And do what?

Start again. Find Frank. Try and make a go of it.

Are you kidding?

Well, things went wrong the first time. Maybe away from everybody else it might work.

I don’t believe I’m hearing this.

Well, the way I see it… Frank never let go of you. Not really. And even though we’re not good for each other I still want him to be happy.

There’s a degree of contrivance to the turn of events, but the actors here sell me on this. I believe there’s a kind of respect and warmth between them in that moment. Maybe Bobby will kick herself for saying it. But the writers know that this casts her in a somewhat noble light and at the same time slightly whitewashes the two departing characters in order for them to be reunited with a degree of illusionary purity.

continued...​

 

[Spells & Karma]

Episodes 336-340 (...continued)

I have heard the gossip and I know it isn’t true. I also know through very painful experience that if you really love Frank, don’t let him go… Look, darling, you can think whatever you like about me. Just don’t ruin your happiness for the sake of a small-minded town… If your love for Frank has lasted this long then let nothing, and no-one, stand in your way.

Morag and Bobby wouldn’t like to think they had much in common, but while most of the town has it in for her it’s the two of them who back Roo to follow where happiness leads.

Morag and Roo’s previous blow up hasn’t been forgotten, and her advice to Roo is met with a healthy degree of scepticism regarding Morag’s motives. But for Roo the seed is planted. And even though she hasn’t won her niece over, Morag continues to chip away at Alf who believes Roo belongs in Summer Bay. Alf, too, rejects Morag’s input - there’s a great scene where he gives her a ticking off in his lounge, while Ailsa looks uncomfortable at seeing her newfound ally treated so badly.

Roo pays a final visit to her Aunt, and there’s a nice conversation where they talk about Morag’s ostracism from the Stewarts. Roo asks if Morag gets lonely and she admits she does sometimes:

You sure went to a lot of trouble for me. Taking on Dad like that… I wanna thank you, Auntie Morag. You’ve helped a lot.

So what do you think you’re going to do now?

I don’t know. I’m frightened. Frightened to stay. Frightened to go… I think I’ll sleep on it.

The sleep apparently helped make up her mind. We then get to a returning character. Sort of. Frank only said his goodbyes a couple of episodes earlier, but now we join him in his new life in the city. And it looks good. The sparkling glamour of the Macklin Group’s head office; the burgundy BMW; the parking space reserved with his name; the suit.

Oh, and the car phone, which rings on cue:

Hi. Where are ya?

Across the road.

Frank won’t interact with anyone other than Roo in the few scenes filmed for these episodes. Nor will he set foot back in Summer Bay. He’s had the definitive exit. He’s now here as a taste of the couple’s new life in the city. To cross the “t”s and dot the “i”s. It feels strange, though, to have a “departed” character appearing in the series again just a few episodes later.

First he broaches the subject of Bobby. Roo says Bobby’s “first reaction” was to punch her in the face. The semantics are interesting there, because what Roo says suggests that Bobby actually physically attacked her. I don’t believe it was her intention, but there could be an argument for Roo making herself look better by making Bobby look bad. Either way she immediately defends Bobby’s reasoning:

There were rumours. About you and me.

What… That’s rubbish.

Frank starts to say about Bobby knowing something, which is cut off, but the tone implied that he was saying Bobby knows he’d never looked at Roo. Frank’s incredulity seems odd. He and Roo shared a passionate kiss. Frank repeatedly asked Roo to plan a future with him if he were to leave Bobby. To say there was no substance to the rumours, or that nothing happened, is ridiculous. But then denial is a powerful thing. Perhaps it’s human nature to airbrush those actions that could be viewed as making one seem less moral in order to feel good about themselves. Dodge might be more up front about his “end justifies the mean” approach as it benefits him. Frank can’t bring himself to be so honest, because that wouldn’t benefit him at this moment in time.

Bobby dispensed with, Frank is keen to make plans for his future with Roo:

So where do we go from here?

I guess the next step is for me to move to the city.

Great. Well, I’ve got a flat lined up and there’s heaps of room for two.

One step at a time, OK… I just don’t think that we should rush things. I’ll ask Auntie Barb if I can stay with her for a while.

Ah, you’re right, I s’pose. I reckon we’ve both learned quite a bit about this love stuff over the past year or so.

Human nature, again. Frank says he’s grown and is wiser. But it’s clear he’s not. He’s been separated from his wife for a matter of days and he’s keen to move his girlfriend in despite their history. It all suggests Roo is going to have her work cut out being sensible for the two of them. Which means they’ll probably have an eventful time of it in the city. Life goes on.

Frank’s return scenes are all exteriors. First in front of the Macklin building; then walking in a park; and his final scene is in front of a fountain, presumably back at the Macklin Group:

I’ll go back and get my things and come down in the morning.

I don’t know whether I can last that long. Better give me a kiss. [they kiss and his pager sounds]

What’s that?!

Oh. That’s my BPWD. My blood pressure warning device. It goes off whenever I kiss you. Ah, it’s my beeper. Someone wants me to ring them at the office.

You’re really going places, aren’t you? The big time.

I’m not goin’ anywhere without you.

And with that sloppy final kiss, Frank bows out of the series. He and Roo having a happy ever after is slightly icky, all things considered. But it all feels in character and inevitable.

continued...​