Abstract
'Mothers Like Him': Graham Kennedy and the Great Divide
During the establishment period of the major city services, television was seen as a blank canvas, and generated a great deal of discussion about the most appropriate way of behaving in front of the camera. Rather than providing a template for the successful TV personality, Melbourne 's Graham Kennedy appeared to have broken the mould. Kennedy had managed to transplant from daytime radio a relaxed intimacy of address that was not a recognisable property of 1950s understandings of masculinity. In fact, an integral part of his television persona was the fluidity of his performance of gender. This vital aspect of his allure was also part of his capacity to polarise opinion. His huge popularity was matched by the strength of the dislike felt by those viewers who just did not 'get' what it was that Kennedy was offering. One of the less likely highlights of Kennedy's mercurial TV charm was a barrel segment that offered viewers at home a fantasy connection with the lucky viewer or audience member appearing on a particular night. The key to the segment's success was Kennedy's banter with the barrel girl that lent this regular feature its much-celebrated (and much-debated) charm. Depending on a fascinating blend of glamour and mundanity, the segment became a vital part of Kennedy's mystique and of his rapport with his viewers. Panda Lisner, renowned for her glamorous appearance and breathtaking ordinariness, was the most famous of a series of barrel girls and her demise highlighted the affective power of the segment as well as its fascinatingly ambiguous status. In this paper, I want to explore the appeal and address of the barrel segment in the context of the multiple interpretations and understandings revealed in the many viewers letters published in the popular print media during the long run of Kennedy's show.
Susan Bye
Latrobe University