The Fold: NZ on Air funds reality TV now?
Glen Kyne joins Duncan Greive on The Fold to discuss the shock revelation that NZ on Air will support Celebrity Treasure Island and The Traitors NZ's return to our screens. They assess the potential moral hazard, the function those shows perform for networks, and the more profound challenges lurking down the road.
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NZ Herald
9 hours ago
- NZ Herald
Dame Julie Christie gets real about Auckland FC, name-calling and silencing her critics
'To me, sport is the only thing that's real left on TV. You can't fake it, and you couldn't skew it. It just was what it was,' Christie says. Auckland FC chief executive Nick Becker announces the club's first signings at the Viaduct in 2024. Photo / Jason Oxenham Perhaps she's in on the joke, perhaps the joke (and television) has just changed, but that was her one rule for making this eight-part documentary about the birth of a football club: all access, all honesty – or nothing. In the series, players let cameras into their homes, coaches are always mic'd, even when they don't want to be (a deal's a deal) and club co-owners Ali Williams and Anna Mowbray are the perky cheerleaders for the whole, emotional ride. Christie calls it the first full-access sports show in New Zealand: club bosses could fix factual errors but otherwise sat on their hands. 'I think they trusted me – I have been around for a while,' Christie says, only just resisting a self-aware wink. '[The club] committed to being honest and you can see that. It becomes a warts-and-all story. They took the criticism, they took the good with the bad ... [There are] honest lines like, 'when we don't want you guys to use the footage, we just swear a lot' – well, that didn't work because we used it anyway.' Of course she did. This is not Christie's first rodeo. '[Auckland FC] committed to being honest and you can see that," says Dame Julie Christie. Photo / Jason Dorday Made a dame in 2017 for services to governance and the television industry, she is the brains behind Celebrity Treasure Island, Missing Pieces, Game of Two Halves ... and honestly, the list could go on. At the same time, she created TV stars out of David Lomas, Marc Ellis and Matthew Ridge. She made ex-Silver Fern April Ieremia New Zealand's divine primetime host on April's Angels and gave former Black Cap Mark Richardson his spot fronting The Block NZ. After almost a decade away from TV spent sitting on boards and bringing events like the Women's Rugby World Cup to life, she is back in the game, as owner and chief executive of Natural History New Zealand. These days, she's focused less on celebrities behaving badly on beaches and instead sating growing audience appetites for true crime and the power of those all-access sport documentaries, like how Netflix's Drive to Survive turned a generation of Toyota Corolla drivers into Formula 1 tragics. Christie has been making TV about sport since her first producing job on 1989's Mud and Glory: Great Rugby Stories. And the same night Forever Auckland FC launches, she's also releasing Triple Threat, a series following three Black Ferns – Jorja Miller, Maia Joseph and Katelyn Vahaakolo – as they defend the Women's Rugby World Cup. 'Sport is always a drama,' Christie says, likening Forever to an 'unscripted Ted Lasso', the hit comedy about an English football team winning hearts and fans that she binge-watched with her daughter during lockdown. '[In Forever], we've got tears. At times, they were grumpy. The players disagreed. There is some wonderful honesty and [it's] quite raw.' Even failing to make the A-League final was a perfect outcome – for the series, at least. 'These [shows] are always best when they are a journey ... if they'd won, we wouldn't have it ending in tears. Which, depressed as we were at the time, actually is a better story.' Auckland FC's Nando Pijnaker during the A-League Men's second-leg semifinal against Melbourne Victory. Photo / Photosport Much has been written about Christie's own story, and her childhood on the West Coast. The fifth child of seven (including her brother, 2022 Auckland mayoral candidate Leo Molloy), her father, Kevin, died when she was 5, and mum Maureen raised the family with what she had, all the while pushing the importance of education. Christie trained as a journalist – the course was two years shorter than teacher's college, and she's famously said she could only stand being a poor student for a year – before working as a sports subeditor, and eventually a TV writer at the Auckland Sun. Then came TV proper, working with Communicado boss Neil Roberts before leaving in 1991 (they turned her down for a pay rise, so she walked) to set up her own production company, Touchdown. The rest, as they say in the biz, is history. But it was that tough childhood that honed the talents she would eventually turn into a career. 'We didn't go on holidays, we were relatively, you'd probably say poor now. But television was the only real entertainment in our house. 'I loved shows, I loved local television ... and New Zealand television was incredibly strong. I always had a common touch, which I have found hard to find in other people. There has been, perhaps, a snobbery at times [about popular TV]. 'But when I found myself working in television, it was like a lightbulb went on. You know what? That common touch? I think I know what people like.' Some of the Celebrity Treasure Island cast from 2004. And what people like is the same in 2025 as it was in the 1990s. Recently, NZ on Air made headlines by funding the next season of Celebrity Treasure Island to the tune of $1.3 million. Another of Christie's formats, My House, My Castle returns with $250,000 in funding. 'I feel like I've been reincarnated through my shows ... I don't have any of the rights to any of them anymore, I don't have anything to do with any of them anymore, I sold them when I sold the company. But I do feel like we are going back to the future,' she says. Christie believes it's necessary to fund reality TV – just like Shortland Street, which gets $2.5m from NZ on Air for the 2026 season. They are proven formats – and New Zealand IP – that have stood the test of time (My House, My Castle ran for 10 years when it launched in 2001, and this will be the 16th year of the Treasure Island format). But she says a plan is needed so there's enough money for projects like Forever Auckland FC, which Christie made with investment from the likes of the club and Sky Television, as well as her own money, after she was turned down for funding. She knew she didn't have time to waste, and Christie doesn't seem to like waiting, probably for anything, but particularly for TV. She gets frustrated waiting for weekly episodes of favourite shows like The Buccaneers (think Bridgerton with Americans) and The Gilded Age (think Downton Abbey with Americans). She's even on the fan pages for that one, ducking and diving spoilers like a football goalie. The American-ness of her tastes makes sense – even in the work she makes here, there is an eye across the Pacific. 'I never make anything without the world in mind. There's no money in this country to make television, truthfully ... And if you're really proud of something, wouldn't you want the world to see it?' It's no secret she has felt the full force of critics. Some of them have attacked her shows, and others the woman herself. But she says most of the harsh reviews have had 'virtually' no impact on her because, in the end, the choice was to make unscripted television because it was where New Zealand could make a mark in the world. 'So if someone here doesn't like it, as long as they like it in the US, I'm all good,' she says. 'In the last two years, I've made a paranormal show in Tasmania with Jack Osbourne, I've done a shark show on Disney+ ... why would you worry about what somebody says here? You've just got to be proud. 'We've had a lot of very high-rating shows in my career, and that's by far the best thing. In the end, I don't care as long as the audience loves them.' Forever Auckland FC premieres on Sky Open on August 27 at 7.30pm, with all episodes available to view on Sky Go, Neon and Sky Sport Now. Weekly episodes of Triple Threat follow at 8.30pm on Sky Open or you can watch now on Sky Go and Sky Sport Now. Bridget Jones joined the New Zealand Herald in 2025. She has been a lifestyle and entertainment journalist and editor for more than 15 years.
Scoop
a day ago
- Scoop
Merci, Mercy Drops New Single 'Inside Out'
[15 August 2025] Alt-pop singer songwriter merci, mercy today releases 'Inside Out', the final single ahead of her debut album Don't Take It To Heart, out on Friday, 29th August. Effective pop songwriting in its simplest and purest form, 'Inside Out' creates a strong foundation as the album opener and entry point of Don't Take It To Heart. Offering a unique perspective of what it can be like to live with the unpredictability of depression, the song observes one's relationship with depression and mental health with intimacy and maturity. 'Inside Out' continues a run of emotionally incisive and deeply personal singles from merci, mercy's debut LP, standing alongside standout tracks like 'Hold On You', 'I Bet She's Really Nice', 'Cigarettes In The Dark', 'Unrecognisable' and 'Angel'. These songs have enjoyed significant support from triple j; most notably, 'Angel' reaching the coveted position of #1 most played, and championed by outlets such as Rolling Stone and Junkee. They've also secured placement on major playlists including Spotify's All New Pop (USA) and Apple Music's A List Pop. Together, these singles form the foundation of a compelling debut album. Don't Take It To Heart is a fearless deep-dive into the emotional complexity of the human experience, drawn from merci, mercy's personal journey through both romantic and platonic relationships. Created in collaboration with long-time producers Chris Collins, Milku and Robby De Sa, the album embraces the beautiful mess of growing up and learning who you are. This bold debut follows the success of three critically acclaimed EPs, which helped merci, mercy build a devoted fanbase across Australia and beyond. Her career to date includes over 35 million global streams, 10 triple j-playlisted singles, and commercial radio support from Nova. Her breakout single 'Into You' received spins on BBC Radio 1 (NEXT WAVE, Mollie King) and appeared on Flux FM Germany's Top 50 of 2022, while earning praise from Paper Magazine, Flaunt, The Line of Best Fit, Clash, and NME. merci, mercy also announces her supports for her upcoming headline tour with Foley in Sydney on 12th September, GRXCE in Wollongong on 13th September, Matilda Pearl in Melbourne on 19th September and Jade Rich in Perth on 1st November. Tickets available here Don't Take It To Heart is available to pre-order now on exclusive powder pink vinyl, with limited-edition merch also available via her official store.
The Spinoff
3 days ago
- The Spinoff
Neil Finn on the promise of the early internet – and how it lives on in MUFGAL
Ahead of an incredible new Infinity Sessions livestream series, debuting tonight, Duncan Greive spoke with Neil Finn about his long history of trying to make the beautiful things happen online. It's hard to remember now, when it feels so dominated by a handful of mega platforms, but those who went online in the 90s and early 00s truly believed that the internet would be a utopian place for culture. Advocates like Lawrence Lessig, institutions like the Electronic Frontier Foundation and theorists such as the free culture movement argued for an internet with radically different legal foundations to that which governed the offline world. The thinking was that society was overly constrained by gatekeepers, and that the internet represented a unique opportunity to remake our media environment. One person who found inspiration in those promises was Neil Finn. The Crowded House frontman had already established himself as an uncommonly collaborative figure by the turn of the millennium, opening his home studio to other artists and founding the 7 Worlds Collide project, bringing the likes of Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder and The Smiths' Johnny Marr to a run of live shows (and subsequent releases) in support of Oxfam. That sense of community and industriousness found a natural home in the early internet. Finn put on a livestream when we were accessing the web through dial-up, to an audience of a few dozen, and has never stopped trying to make interesting things happen online. In the 2010s he livestreamed the recording of his album Out of Silence, and there is a through-line of obstinate creativity in streaming projects like Fang Radio and his recently-launched subscription fan community Private Universe. The most unruly and impressive element is the Infinity Sessions, and tonight sees the debut of MUFGAL, which might be the most elaborate thing he's conjured for the internet. The acronym stands, rather plaintively, for 'Make Us Feel Good About Life'. It's a two week long concert series, happening at Roundhead and proudly supported by The Spinoff, which sees an incredible rotating lineup of New Zealand musicians, including The Beths, Dave Dobbyn, Troy Kingi, Bic Runga and Neil himself playing five nights a week, streaming live every evening. It's a massive undertaking, all driven by his own restless energy. It also says that even as the world feels dark – hence the title – he is still fighting the good fight. And doing so in digital spaces about which he is now deeply ambivalent, while still holding out hope that something magic can happen there. The following is an edited and condensed version of a podcast interview for The Fold. Stream the Infinity Sessions live on YouTube. Duncan Greive: Make Us Feel Good About Life. The title feels fairly self-explanatory. Still – could you unpack its origins? Neil Finn: It started as kind of a joke. My dad was really into acronyms. One of his was IOAG, it's only a game. Because he'd watch cricket, and if it wasn't going well: it's only a game. Or it's more than a game, IMTAG, if he was really enjoying it. So MUFGAL came out of that thought. It was actually originally MUFGALINZ, meaning make us feel good about life in New Zealand. Because I sensed there was a mood of languishing. I think in the middle of winter, there's always things to look at, whether they're on the news or with the health system – just all the things that are very troubling and uneasy. It started to sound like a really good motto. What is it that you're driving towards with giving yourself all this work, making these beautiful, fragile, very specific things come together? I just have an internal compulsion to think of an idea and then double it. Just trying to get the best possible outcome. Often it actually has worked out to be really brilliant, but there's a moment in the execution of these ideas where I go 'there's no way we can pull this off'. With the last big Infinity Session we did, I had a moment an hour and a half before we went to air where there were seven orchestra pieces to rehearse and we just didn't have time to do them all. So we were facing the possibility of playing these arrangements nobody had heard or played before on livestream, and I just had a real panic. [Composer and vocalist] Victoria Kelly came down with me. I think she was having a panic as well. But it went amazingly, and that always seems to be the case. We did the show, and with that little bit of adrenaline it just always goes without any grief whatsoever. The thing that surprised me about the last Infinity Session was you were almost trying to make it more difficult. Not just the number of different performers involved but also Rob Brydon beaming in for some reason, and two dueling MCs competing for control. It was teetering on the edge of transcendence and chaos at all times. Well you've hit the nail on the head there really. I always saw the potential of the internet. In like 2001, when it was just getting going and I did my first live stream from a basement in Parnell. There were only maybe 20 people watching. It's amazing to think they even got that many, given the quality of the internet back then, trying to livestream over dialup. I just got absolutely taken with the idea of being able to not have a gatekeeper. No production crew, no established TV brand behind it, and that the artist was able to play directly for an audience, no matter where they were. That lack of any structure, or being constrained by a format that's already established. I remember when the internet arrived and there was a vision for a whole utopian cultural world that was going to come out of that. Sitting here in 2025 I don't feel like that promise was realised. Do you think that we have lost something along the way? It's hard to keep track. I've abandoned all of my social media in recent years. I was doing Twitter – it was fun for a while and I enjoyed it when I felt like you were able to be subversive and have fun and actually send things up. Then two things happened. I got to the point where I felt like 'oh I haven't tweeted today, I better tweet'. And also whenever anybody died or anything you felt like you had to comment on it and be part of it. Then also the dreadful massacre that happened live on the internet, it just put a shudder through my whole system. I just went 'I don't want to be on there'. I was even asked about why I went off all my social media. The Guardian wanted me to write something about it. And I said no, because then I'm just doing what I'm trying to avoid, which is commenting. And yet here you are, doing something big and new. I have this little bit of faith that if you keep doing good work, eventually it finds its way. It's sort of contradictory, in some ways, thinking that you can take on the internet in a pure sense and have it actually find an audience. I don't know if you can. I want to talk about some of the places that are integral to music now, because the contrast between them and what you build yourself is quite interesting. What's your view of Spotify? I'm not on Spotify. It's not really an act of resistance particularly. I just don't use Spotify, so I don't know. I know it's extremely useful for checking out stuff. But I really object to any ever having an algorithm decide what I might want to like. It hasn't been very beneficial to musicians. I think that record companies are doing rather nicely out of it now, which is the established order, really. The way that the whole world is organised is that the established order usually wins every transaction. The established order has won that transaction. And musicians are just struggling. They're fighting with AI now and it's going to happen more and more. That's the really worrisome thing. I like the perversity, where you're using a platform like YouTube for distribution but not necessarily in the way that it wants to be used, by only making it live very briefly. What's the motive there? I'd prefer not to be using YouTube. If I had a good alternative, I'd use it, but YouTube offers kind of universal access to this idea. It's also a hotbed of awful things. So I don't really have an opinion about YouTube. It's just there – but we're not aligned. We've got no sponsors. You know, we have partners, including yourselves, who are interested in the idea and want to be part of it, but there's no sponsors. We've had the opportunity to have companies come in and brand the thing. And I've resisted that, to the point where it's ended up being quite expensive and we've spent a bit of money trying to do it. So there is a perversity there. It'd be easier with a sponsor to pay for it, but I'm really suspicious of having anything aligned. I look at Liam, who wrote and recorded his Hyperverse album live on Twitch. It feels like within the family, generationally now, there's this curiosity about technology and what it should enable, that is also on some level suspicious of what it wants you to be. I have done plenty of the traditional media outlets and podcasts and I understand that it's part of getting the word out about a new record. They're important and some of them are really memorable, because there actually is a good conversation in the midst of it. But there's a lot of stuff that feels somehow not very satisfying. Doing things on your own is fun, as long as the tech side of it goes OK. It used to be that you'd go to a radio station and do an interview and then you'd wait till the end of the week and you'd find out if you had any radio play. It was a simple setup. It was deeply corrupt. But it was good old-fashioned corruption. Yeah. There were all sorts of dodgy people, and it was no by no means perfect. And the thing about nowadays is that there are just so many layers of communication, so many gatekeepers and some good things happen with that. There's people who just operate on some level you're not even aware of and all of a sudden they're filling Spark Arena. On some occasions they're really good, and it's mysterious because you haven't heard them or seen them in any format that you've been watching. The internet has created compartmentalised and heavily curated spaces where people are getting exactly what they want, but they're not really aware of the rest of the world. When I imagine being an artist starting out now, in a world so fragmented, it seems like an exhausting task just to take that first step. Some of the things you do seem to wrap your arms around younger artists, who face a tricky operating environment today. It's a beautiful thing to find an artist in full flight early in their career and they're just moving with absolute agility. You see the ideas flowing and you see the energy. A lot of that is being directed now into creating social media for themselves. And some people are really good at it, and it's part of the reason they become successful. It's a composite talent. Being just a musician or just a songwriter in itself is enormously tough. It probably always was, but I think more so now than ever. But if you've got the composite skills of being able to be a communicator or being able to make content, it works for you. What it appears to do is to direct people's creative energies into areas which are potentially problematic. And slightly corrupting, if I could say so, in terms of what their efforts are. They're judged by likes and judged by streams and judged by status. A little bit of that comes naturally with the world of celebrity, which we've all known. But it seems now that the work maybe is not as good in some, and people don't flourish beyond their first or second album. It feels like what MUFGAL and Roundhead and the Infinity Sessions are seeking to imagine is a different world for musicians. Well, I hope so. I don't think we can do it all by any means. It's stumbling along, as I usually do, but I don't know. I'm not the marketer. That's really always been quite confusing for me. Like you said, it does feel like we were languishing, as a species. Maybe this is where it'll turn around. Well, God, that would be a lovely thought. It's a small effort, but I do have big expectations for it. I want it to be amazing. The beginning of Crowded House was us playing parties as a three-piece busking trio. I really fell in love with that feeling of having the room just buzzing. So with this intimate atmosphere, hopefully we'll create some of that.
