Vale Bert Newton: Roland reflects

Albert Watson Newton AM, MBE (23 July 1938 – 30 October 2021)

THE death of Bert Newton marks the end of a sensational era in Australia television.

Bert was there in 1956 when television started, and has steadfastly remained part of the industry for 65 years. That, in itself, is a remarkable achievement in an industry which has a propensity for devouring its own, mercilessly. You know the old adage: a rooster today and a feather duster tomorrow. That never happened to Bert.

Much has been written about Bert’s illustrious career, so I shall leave that part of his life to others. Instead, I shall reflect on the man whom I came to know as a consequence of working with him on radio and Good Morning Australia. We shared many mutual friends so there was never a lull in our conversations. He did the most marvellous impersonation of the late Frank Thring. Whenever they appeared together on television and radio the pair of them created magic. Both knew how to entertain an audience. For some years at Channel Ten, Bert was churning out 15 hours of television a week which is something of a world record.

Of one thing I am certain: had Bert Newton accomplished in England or the United States what he did in Australia, he would have been an international star. An accident of birth denied him that opportunity. At his zenith it was not really a consideration; besides, he was sailing so high in his own country there was no need to be looking to foreign, greener pastures.

For me, Bert remained an intriguing enigma. Without fail, or effort, he was friendly, amusing, interested in what was happening in my life, encouraging, and genuinely pleased for any success, but he kept his own counsel. I knew Bert Newton as well as he allowed. He knew exactly how much to give of himself to successfully sustain the association. To have known him is a joy.

Bert was a perfectionist constantly in pursuit of excellence. He had an encyclopaedic knowledge of the industry and he relished being part of it. He had great respect for the work, his audience, and his colleagues, and it was mirrored in the finished product. The man on camera was the same man off camera, and that was part of his longevity and enduring public appeal. Quite simply, they loved Bert, and like the late Evie Hayes, he loved them back!  They gifted him a career for which he was eternally grateful. Like all who are truly gifted, Bert made it look effortless. I have wondered, often, whether he was ever fully challenged as a performer.

Bert did not take kindly to any display of professional tardiness. He was truly committed and expected the same standard of dedication from his team. He was capable of being assertive, even strident, if the collective effort did not satisfy his criterion.  Always, he came prepared and did not take kindly to being caught unaware. He said, quite simply, “I do really good surprise. You tell me what you plan to do, and I’ll be surprised!” It never failed him.

As an interviewer, Bert had few peers. Over the years I arranged for him to talk with a number of international film stars. Never once did he fail me. Debbie Reynolds loved him because he was so good at what he did. The actress Diana Dors said to me after a radio interview, “I have done thousands of those in my life. That one with Bert was the best!”  When I told him he was genuinely delighted.

Bert had a sharp sense of humour which coloured his work. He loved people. He had boundless generosity of spirit, and was quite happy for someone else to have the punchline, which is rare in his league. Also, he was deliciously politically incorrect. I have memories of some very amusing, private conversations, which still make me laugh.

Theatrical impresario John Frost from the Gordon Frost Organisation, starred Bert in the stage musicals, Wicked, Annie, The Rocky Horror Show, and Grease: the Musical. Bert took to the discipline of the theatre, and the demands of the stage, like a duck to water. He was a stable, valued member of the company, and much loved by everyone.

I last saw Bert at the Regent Theatre. He and Patti were at an opening night. We met in the exit aisle at the end of the night. I remember, I gave him a hug and a kiss. It was such a joy to see him, again.

When he had his leg amputated I sent him an email which, Patti assured me, made him laugh. He sent a reply which might have come from Frank Thring. It was our little private joke. Alas, never again.

Please, do not be sad at his death; rather, let us celebrate the life and times of a truly remarkable Australian performer. Bert was a star!