Tim's Statement

When our dear friend Rhian told Sarah and me that she wanted to begin filming us in early 2005, I couldn’t understand why. But being asked to be the subject of a documentary is kind of flattering and we trusted her instinct, so we agreed. However, secretly I could only imagine the result being interesting in a Big Brother kind of way: a mildly intriguing reflection of suburban mediocrity.

But when my hitherto enjoyable but modest career picked up during the Melbourne Comedy Festival that year (very soon after Rhian started filming), I started to get the feeling that she knew my story before I did… And after Sarah fell pregnant later that year, and I had some success at the Edinburgh Fringe, I wondered if in fact she had written some kind of voodoo script and was somehow making it come into being through her magic voodoo camera. The plot was definitely thickening: audiences were growing, industry folk were making me offers, there were prizes to resent or win, media to love and hate, and we even managed an argument or two and a small personal tragedy for dramatic affect.

Having one of my closest friends constantly by my side through all of this hubbub elicited mixed feelings: it was a joy having a mate sharing my journey and supporting me and laughing at every stupid thing I say, but it was quite a pain in the arse having a camera stuck in my face all the time. And because we know each other pretty well, she wasn’t afraid to ask me to clarify my thoughts or to stand somewhere with more light or to wear a body-mic, and I wasn’t afraid to tell her to piss off. Without doubt though, the process was overwhelmingly a pleasure. In the hands of someone like Rhian, it’s amazing how quickly the camera stops becoming an issue. We had a bloody riot, really.

But as things continued to improve in my career, I started feeling more worried about this whole doco thing. It was one thing being the subject of a quirky film about a nobody and his quaint cabaret show, and quite another being the subject of what might be perceived by the audience as some kind of celeb-doc about a really D-grade celeb!

But I think what makes this project so unique is that it is absolutely not a retrospective doco of an artist’s grand career, nor a rockumentary about a life of debauchery, nor a voyeuristic peek at the glamorous life of a pop celebrity. It is a story told from a unique perspective: an absolutely trusted insider looking through fond eyes at a normal couple going on a journey which is both somewhat extraordinary and kind of… well, super-ordinary.

Watching “Rock n Roll Nerd” is very difficult for me – just as squirm-inducing as watching one’s jowly profile in a home video or listening to one’s own voice on the answering machine – and it goes without saying that I do not find myself an interesting subject matter; I just want the long-haired ginger dude to shut the fuck up and get on with it. But Sarah and I supported this project because we respect Rhian as a filmmaker and believe in her ability to tell human stories in interesting and sympathetic ways. The fact that we are the main subjects of the piece is both confronting and – oddly, from our point of view – not really the point.