Latest news with #AftertheParty
Sydney Morning Herald
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
‘We're roadkill': How this Kiwi actor turned middle-age rage into her best work yet
Robyn Malcolm is a hoot. The Kiwi actor is leaning on one arm, recounting her recent evening at the BAFTAs in London, where her critically acclaimed series After the Party had been nominated for Best International Series. 'Honestly, they go on and on and on and on,' she says. 'Of course, our award was right at the end. By the time it got to the end, I was like, 'I hope we don't win', because my feet are so sore in these massive shoes I bought, and I was desperate to go to the loo. And I thought if we did win, I'd either fall down the stairs because my feet were numb or I'd piss myself on the stage. So when it went to Shogun, I was like, 'Oh, thank god for that.'' Surely it was a bit glamorous? 'Oh, it's a nightmare!' she says. 'There's the going to the ball aspect of it, which is fun … but then you stand in the heat and there's all this jostling and pushing and photographs and chaos, and it was really hot. And then you get inside and you sit and watch these damn awards for 3½ hours. And honestly, it's not entertainment.' Malcolm, who turned 60 in March, is in Glasgow, where it's early evening, but the temperature is a balmy 25 degrees. 'All the Glaswegians are, like, freaking out that they're so unprepared for it,' she says, laughing, over Zoom. She is exactly as I had hoped – funny and forthright, stripped of any artifice – and instantly familiar. She's been on New Zealand and Australian screens for years, starring in everything from the big stuff (Jane Campion's TV series Top of the Lake) to the cult local stuff (Outrageous Fortune) and the delightfully funny stuff (Upper Middle Bogan). It was on Top of the Lake where she met her partner Peter Mullan, the Scottish actor who specialises in being both terrifying and charming on screen, who pops in mid-chat, so Robyn can pop out to farewell his grandson. 'He's just a really f--k-off actor,' says Malcolm. 'He's an enormously fun actor to work with. I've worked with actors before who are arseholes, and people make excuses for that because they're playing a dark character. And I'm like, 'I know a fellow who's played some of the meanest motherf---ers on the planet, and he'll get the third AD [assistant director] a cup of tea because he's such a sweetheart.'' Loading She has been in the UK for the last three months or so, after being summoned by an agent when After the Party aired last year. 'They just said, 'Could you not talk to any other agents, and can you come with me?' – which was great.' The series, which was co-created by Malcolm and screenwriter Dianne Taylor, was about a high school teacher (Malcolm) who accuses her ex-husband, Phil (played by Mullan) of sexually abusing a drunk friend of their teenage daughter. Malcolm was hailed for giving the best performance of her career and five-star reviews followed. 'I feel like I'm at the beginning of something, not the end of it,' says Malcolm. 'Because I've never lacked ambition, so this has just got my pilot light going faster again, which is fantastic. Weirdly, it's sort of new-lease-of-life stuff. 'I'm more confident than I used to be. I know a lot more. I know what I don't know. I know where I need to get better. I feel like I'm in an excellent place right now for the age I am, you know. I'm not about to buy a La-Z-Boy [reclining chair] any time soon.' My mother-in-law has one of those. 'No, no, no. Although they are f---ing great chairs, I have to say.' Back to the serious stuff – Malcolm is part of a growing group of older female actors using their power on screen and refusing to be invisible. Women can now – shock! – play their age instead of being quietly shuffled out of shot, having reached their screen use-by date of 40 (or, really, a 40-year-old who can pass for 30). It's their stories that Malcolm is most interested in telling. 'One of the things that I love about women in midlife is that it's the three-act structure,' she says. 'You set everything up with the first act, and then everything has to go to shit in the second act so that third act can happen. 'And I feel a lot of us are at the end of our second act. So women of our age straddle so much stuff … we're the generation where a lot of people were divorced. Mistakes have been made, new lives are being started. Careers have been dropped. Careers have been picked up. There's been tragedy. We're in the middle of a big story and that, in itself, I find a really fascinating place to start from. In drama, she says, women's conversation often sits around romance. 'I always remember being so furious – I mean, I was never a major fan – but being so furious that Sex and the City ended with them all shacking up with blokes. I was like, 'This is not what this show was meant to be about. How dare you.' 'You don't see women living independently of the romance story, women being – I hate this word – but having an agency that is completely separate from that. Women having powerful lives in other areas. 'One of my most favourite things is the word 'crone'. The etymology of the word crone comes from either Greek or Latin, and it basically was a word that meant roadkill. So the middle-aged or older woman, the crone word essentially means that we're roadkill. I love that because it's like we've just been chucked out the window, knocked over by a car, and we're splat on the road, and who gives a f--k about us. There's something incredibly powerful in that.' Her latest role is in Netflix's Tasmanian murder mystery The Survivors, adapted from Jane Harper's bestselling 2020 novel. Malcolm plays Verity, the mother of Kieran, who has returned home 15 years after two young men were killed in an accident. The relationship between Verity and her son is strained, and it's another cracker of a performance from Malcolm, who is brittle and forthright on screen. 'To use all the cliches in the book, she's multi-layered,' says Malcolm of Verity. 'What she says she doesn't mean, and what she doesn't mean, she says. There's always something else driving her. She's bottled up so much grief and so much pain. She's blaming the wrong people. She's angry at the wrong people. She's just all over, all over the place. And I really love that.' Malcolm has been onscreen so much in Australia that we would have a fair chance of claiming her as one of our own. Loading 'I just think we should build a bridge [between Australia and New Zealand] and just be done with it,' she says, laughing. 'I don't think I would ever call myself an Australian. I've been in Aotearoa for too long. But I love Australia and I love working there. 'I love the directness of Aussies; Kiwis can be very apologetic, very self-deprecating. A friend of mine said once that to determine the difference in personality between an Australian and New Zealander, you just have to listen to the bird calls,' she says. 'So in New Zealand, in the mornings, the bird calls are sort of like [Malcolm does a lovely sweet bird call] and in the morning in Australia, it [sounds] like this mass vomit.'
The Age
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Age
‘We're roadkill': How this Kiwi actor turned middle-age rage into her best work yet
Robyn Malcolm is a hoot. The Kiwi actor is leaning on one arm, recounting her recent evening at the BAFTAs in London, where her critically acclaimed series After the Party had been nominated for Best International Series. 'Honestly, they go on and on and on and on,' she says. 'Of course, our award was right at the end. By the time it got to the end, I was like, 'I hope we don't win', because my feet are so sore in these massive shoes I bought, and I was desperate to go to the loo. And I thought if we did win, I'd either fall down the stairs because my feet were numb or I'd piss myself on the stage. So when it went to Shogun, I was like, 'Oh, thank god for that.'' Surely it was a bit glamorous? 'Oh, it's a nightmare!' she says. 'There's the going to the ball aspect of it, which is fun … but then you stand in the heat and there's all this jostling and pushing and photographs and chaos, and it was really hot. And then you get inside and you sit and watch these damn awards for 3½ hours. And honestly, it's not entertainment.' Malcolm, who turned 60 in March, is in Glasgow, where it's early evening, but the temperature is a balmy 25 degrees. 'All the Glaswegians are, like, freaking out that they're so unprepared for it,' she says, laughing, over Zoom. She is exactly as I had hoped – funny and forthright, stripped of any artifice – and instantly familiar. She's been on New Zealand and Australian screens for years, starring in everything from the big stuff (Jane Campion's TV series Top of the Lake) to the cult local stuff (Outrageous Fortune) and the delightfully funny stuff (Upper Middle Bogan). It was on Top of the Lake where she met her partner Peter Mullan, the Scottish actor who specialises in being both terrifying and charming on screen, who pops in mid-chat, so Robyn can pop out to farewell his grandson. 'He's just a really f--k-off actor,' says Malcolm. 'He's an enormously fun actor to work with. I've worked with actors before who are arseholes, and people make excuses for that because they're playing a dark character. And I'm like, 'I know a fellow who's played some of the meanest motherf---ers on the planet, and he'll get the third AD [assistant director] a cup of tea because he's such a sweetheart.'' Loading She has been in the UK for the last three months or so, after being summoned by an agent when After the Party aired last year. 'They just said, 'Could you not talk to any other agents, and can you come with me?' – which was great.' The series, which was co-created by Malcolm and screenwriter Dianne Taylor, was about a high school teacher (Malcolm) who accuses her ex-husband, Phil (played by Mullan) of sexually abusing a drunk friend of their teenage daughter. Malcolm was hailed for giving the best performance of her career and five-star reviews followed. 'I feel like I'm at the beginning of something, not the end of it,' says Malcolm. 'Because I've never lacked ambition, so this has just got my pilot light going faster again, which is fantastic. Weirdly, it's sort of new-lease-of-life stuff. 'I'm more confident than I used to be. I know a lot more. I know what I don't know. I know where I need to get better. I feel like I'm in an excellent place right now for the age I am, you know. I'm not about to buy a La-Z-Boy [reclining chair] any time soon.' My mother-in-law has one of those. 'No, no, no. Although they are f---ing great chairs, I have to say.' Back to the serious stuff – Malcolm is part of a growing group of older female actors using their power on screen and refusing to be invisible. Women can now – shock! – play their age instead of being quietly shuffled out of shot, having reached their screen use-by date of 40 (or, really, a 40-year-old who can pass for 30). It's their stories that Malcolm is most interested in telling. 'One of the things that I love about women in midlife is that it's the three-act structure,' she says. 'You set everything up with the first act, and then everything has to go to shit in the second act so that third act can happen. 'And I feel a lot of us are at the end of our second act. So women of our age straddle so much stuff … we're the generation where a lot of people were divorced. Mistakes have been made, new lives are being started. Careers have been dropped. Careers have been picked up. There's been tragedy. We're in the middle of a big story and that, in itself, I find a really fascinating place to start from. In drama, she says, women's conversation often sits around romance. 'I always remember being so furious – I mean, I was never a major fan – but being so furious that Sex and the City ended with them all shacking up with blokes. I was like, 'This is not what this show was meant to be about. How dare you.' 'You don't see women living independently of the romance story, women being – I hate this word – but having an agency that is completely separate from that. Women having powerful lives in other areas. 'One of my most favourite things is the word 'crone'. The etymology of the word crone comes from either Greek or Latin, and it basically was a word that meant roadkill. So the middle-aged or older woman, the crone word essentially means that we're roadkill. I love that because it's like we've just been chucked out the window, knocked over by a car, and we're splat on the road, and who gives a f--k about us. There's something incredibly powerful in that.' Her latest role is in Netflix's Tasmanian murder mystery The Survivors, adapted from Jane Harper's bestselling 2020 novel. Malcolm plays Verity, the mother of Kieran, who has returned home 15 years after two young men were killed in an accident. The relationship between Verity and her son is strained, and it's another cracker of a performance from Malcolm, who is brittle and forthright on screen. 'To use all the cliches in the book, she's multi-layered,' says Malcolm of Verity. 'What she says she doesn't mean, and what she doesn't mean, she says. There's always something else driving her. She's bottled up so much grief and so much pain. She's blaming the wrong people. She's angry at the wrong people. She's just all over, all over the place. And I really love that.' Malcolm has been onscreen so much in Australia that we would have a fair chance of claiming her as one of our own. Loading 'I just think we should build a bridge [between Australia and New Zealand] and just be done with it,' she says, laughing. 'I don't think I would ever call myself an Australian. I've been in Aotearoa for too long. But I love Australia and I love working there. 'I love the directness of Aussies; Kiwis can be very apologetic, very self-deprecating. A friend of mine said once that to determine the difference in personality between an Australian and New Zealander, you just have to listen to the bird calls,' she says. 'So in New Zealand, in the mornings, the bird calls are sort of like [Malcolm does a lovely sweet bird call] and in the morning in Australia, it [sounds] like this mass vomit.'
NZ Herald
14-05-2025
- Business
- NZ Herald
Robyn Malcolm, Toni Street, Kiri Nathan and Cassie Roma headline Tauranga Business Women's Speaker Series
Malcom recently starred in After the Party, a six-part Wellington-based drama series nominated for a British Academy Television Awards (Bafta) honour in the Best International TV Series category. It missed out on winning to Shogun. Joining Malcolm will be broadcaster and author Toni Street, fashion designer and cultural entrepreneur Kiri Nathan and business powerhouse, international speaker and global brand strategist Cassie Roma. Street co-hosts the Coast FM Breakfast show, a radio station owned by Bay of Plenty Times publisher NZME. Her Breakfast co-hosts Jase Reeve and Sam Wallace will MC at the event. Nathan made history in 2023 as the first Māori designer to open New Zealand Fashion Week, and Roma has starred in The Apprentice Aotearoa and Celebrity Treasure Island. 'Each will share insights from their personal journeys, offering attendees a rare opportunity to engage with high-calibre speakers in one afternoon,' the chamber said. The theme this year is Unstoppable: Owning Your Story. 'This is the most ambitious and exciting speaker series we've ever delivered,' said chamber communications and events manager Carrie Brown. 'These women are not only leaders in their fields, they're change-makers on the national and global stage. 'It's an opportunity for our region to hear directly from voices that are shaping Aotearoa's future.' Now in its sixth year, the Speaker Series is open to the public – not just business owners or chamber members. The chamber partnered with several businesses to deliver the event, including Craigs Investment Partners and Cooney Lees Morgan, Coast FM, KingSt Design, Port of Tauranga, Hatch Consulting, Rentlink Property Management, Toi Ohomai Institute of Technology, Kale Print, and Westpac. The details
NZ Herald
11-05-2025
- Entertainment
- NZ Herald
New Zealand TV drama After the Party loses to Shogun at Bafta TV Awards
After the Party, which stars Kiwi actress Robyn Malcolm in the lead role, is a six-part drama series about a woman whose world implodes when she accuses her ex-husband of a sex crime. It was produced by Lingo Pictures and Luminous Beast and written by Dianne Taylor, along with Emily Perkins, Martha Hardy-Ward and Sam Shore. Malcolm previously told RNZ it 'blows her mind' how far the NZ-made show has travelled around the world, saying people in Liverpool had come up to her in the supermarket to praise it just as they do in Auckland. Taylor told RNZ that she and Malcolm created the show partly out of frustration about the lack of decent roles for middle-aged women. Taylor, whose previous credits include the 2017 film Beyond the Known World, said it was gratifying After the Party had won over not only women but also men and young people. While the show didn't take home the Bafta, it had .
News.com.au
02-05-2025
- Entertainment
- News.com.au
Dervla McTiernan on her chart-topping TV win – and why it ‘sucks for me' that she can't stand up to the tech giants' AI piracy
If you haven't yet heard of Dervla McTiernan, you soon will. She wrote Australia's top-selling crime fiction book last year – and was the fourth most-read adult fiction writer behind fellow Aussie literary powerhouses Liane Moriarty and Trent Dalton. Now McTiernan is poised to follow Moriarty and Dalton into screen domination, with her gripping mystery What Happened to Nina? being adapted for TV by the BAFTA-nominated makers of After the Party and The Secrets She Keeps. The story was influenced by recent high-profile murders of women by men with whom they were in relationships. It is more of a 'whydunit' than a whodunit; and Irish-born, Perth-based McTiernan is thrilled that both the story and its discussion of an important, confronting issue has reached so many readers. 'It doesn't often happen that you get to sit five weeks at number one,' she says. As it unfolds, What Happened to Nina? offers insights into the perspectives of the mothers of both the killer and the victim. McTiernan reveals she was driven to write it after swapping parenting stories with a friend. 'We didn't grow up with camera phones everywhere, with all this constant commentary online,' she says. 'She was like: 'What if my son screws up? What if he does something online, or makes an unwelcome move, or sticks up for a friend who makes an off-colour joke and it suddenly escalates?' And I was really taken aback by the conversation because I never really thought about that, because my son is 13 and my daughter's 15. We're not at that stage yet.' It's not the only element of the online world that has become concerning for McTiernan. Like many authors around the world, McTiernan is appalled to have discovered that her books are being replicated in the pirated online library LibGen, where they are used by tech giant Meta to train AI models. 'I am relatively small fry in comparison to some authors who have had 20 or 30 years' worth of work (taken), and then very small fry in comparison to the total, which is around 7.5 million books,' she sighs. 'There's nothing I can do as an individual writer about this. I don't have the resources to sue anybody. 'There are authors in the US who've put together resources (to take action against Meta). 'I hope they are successful. The reality is those cases will take years. They may not be won, because Meta and everybody else who falls into this category has almost endless resources to put against litigation.' A former lawyer, McTiernan believes the only solution is government regulation. 'If you were to say to me, 'Look, the work of these seven million books has been put to this tool, but it's going to only create amazing new drugs and solutions for people, and we all get to share the outcome of that and the financial reward,' to some degree I'd say: 'Okay, well, it sucks for me, but great for everybody.' 'But that's not what's going to happen. A handful of people, contextually speaking, are going to control these tools, the flow of wealth and the gap between rich and poor will widen exponentially over the next 10 to 20 years if nothing is done about this. People are going to lose their jobs.' And writing is a job that McTiernan holds dear. Especially as it has given her a lifeline in the darkest of times. After moving to Perth in 2011 for a fresh start after the Global Financial Crisis left her burnt out and strapped for cash, McTiernan's husband, Kenny, urged her to take another leap of faith into writing. So, while working part-time and juggling two small children, McTiernan began penning The Ruin; a mystery following Irish detective Cormac Reilly. It was also during this time, in a blur of sleep-deprivation and stress, that McTiernan was diagnosed with a potentially fatal brain tumour. She was given the shocking news less than an hour before a literary agent called expressing interest in The Ruin. After undergoing surgery and a gruelling recovery process, McTiernan distracted herself from the ordeal by focusing on getting her first story out into the world. ' The Ruin made it into Top 10, and then The Scholar made it into Top Five, and then The Good Turn went to Number One. And they've all been number one since then, and the readership just keeps growing. 'And I just feel incredibly lucky as this Irish woman in Western Australia that you guys let into the country and let me keep writing books.' That's why it feels especially meaningful for McTiernan to return to writing about the detective who launched her career and saw her through brain cancer – and who has become a firm fan favourite. Her new book, The Unquiet Grave, comes five years after the last in the Reilly series and after she felt she'd said goodbye to the dogged policeman. She hopes that being reunited with Cormac will be as rewarding for readers as it has been for her. 'Because that's what I feel when I pick up a book by one of my favourite writers that I've been waiting to read, and it's set in a place that I know with characters I love,' she says. 'I'm on the couch, the blanket over my legs, a cup of tea beside me, and it's just so comforting to get three or four hours in a place I want to be with characters I love.'
