Latest news with #Hamish&Andy
Perth Now
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Perth Now
Andy Lee says Do Not Watch This Show
Andy Lee never expected to become a bestselling children's book author. He penned Do Not Open This Book, a story for little readers about a contrary blue monster named Wizz, way back in 2016 almost as an after-thought— a gift for his then-newborn nephew. Fast-forward almost a decade and the book, illustrated by Heath McKenzie, has become something of a phenomenon, spawning nine spin-off books which have been translated into more than 35 languages and sold more than 3.5 million copies worldwide . Now, Wizz is coming to an animated television series on the ABC this week. 'It was only meant to be one book and that was it,' says Lee, who is speaking with STM about his newest TV project from his home in Melbourne, which he shares with fiancee Rebecca Harding. 'The fact it resonated with kids, and we got to explore this world was kind of fun, but unlike most of my other projects where I sit down and really craft something and then put it out there, this was just 40 minutes on a plane and suddenly it was in everyone's hands.' This kind of meant-to-be success is something most authors can only dream of — but it's just the latest in a long line of career triumphs for the 44-year-old star. Lee started out as a comedian and radio host, one half of the phenomenally successful household double-act of 'Hamish and Andy' alongside collaborator and friend Hamish Blake. Through their production company Radio Karate, they crafted an empire, hosting TV specials, producing podcasts (the Hamish & Andy podcast continues to top the charts in Australia), radio shows and comedy series. This latest project, 12 11-minute episodes of Do Not Watch This Show, is just the latest string to his bow. Lee credits the book's enormous success to the very fact he didn't overthink it. 'There's an advantage to that,' he explains. 'I was like, 'Oh well, I will just see how it goes.' And I honestly thought that the book would disappear.' Instead, it struck a chord. But while the journey from Lee's mind to the page might have been a relatively seamless one, the same cannot be said of his first animated series, which was brought to the screen via his own television production company Lee Bones, with funding from VicScreen and Screen Australia. Scenes from the Do Not Watch This Show. Credit: Supplied 'Oh my god. Animation takes its time ,' Lee laughs. 'I kind of thought that a lot of my skills would be transferable; I thought it might be like TV . . . but it's not, it's very different.' Originally, Lee had been in discussions to turn Wizz's adventures into a series with international production powerhouse DreamWorks in 2019. That never got off the ground, and he redirected his attention to doing things his own way. '(DreamWorks) wanted me to sign a deal, and it didn't work out, but it was totally fine and respectful from both sides,' he explains. 'I am passionate about all my projects, and they were probably more keen on taking the IP (intellectual property) and making it their own, whereas I was more keen on being a strong part of it. 'And to be honest, I was more keen for it to be made in Australia.' Lee was also keen for it to be seen by as many eyes as possible. The ABC was the perfect fit. 'With a lot of Hamish and my projects, we haven't ever really gone behind a paywall,' he says. 'And the same way we do the podcast we like free-to-air networks. 'I was really passionate about it being on the ABC for that reason, because that's where kids are.' If you'd like to view this content, please adjust your . To find out more about how we use cookies, please see our Cookie Guide. Lee voices Wizz, who is desperate for children to not watch his show, as well as a cute scientist character, Douglas, who is the foil for the monster's more outlandish antics. The series also features a great ensemble voice cast including Denise Scott playing a tortoise, Joel Creasey as a lime, Kura Forrester as a kiwi fruit and Dave Hughes as a cheeky goblin. There are also cameos from Blake, Glenn Robbins, Carrie Bickmore, Tony Armstrong, Mick Molloy, Ben Fordham and Chrissie Swan, plus others. 'I love the fact they all said yes,' says Lee of assembling his stellar cast. 'I particularly love the fact people overseas will hear Hughesy's (Dave Hughes) voice (for the first time). 'When he came in, he said, 'What voice do you want me to do?' I said, 'Yours! I didn't get you in for your wonderful voice acting — you are not Meryl Streep!'' Andy Lee, author of the Do Not Open This Book series, talks about the new TV show based on his stories. Credit: Ben King Now that his show is finally arriving on screens, Lee is turning his attention to his next big projects. He recently opened an Aussie pub in New York (friend Hugh Jackman is one of the co-owners), there's his ongoing renovation of the historical property he owns with Harding in Melbourne, plus his upcoming wedding. That last one got pushed down the list as his other obligations took centrestage, but it's back to being number one priority. 'I don't have to work on a cast list anymore, so now we can work on a guest list,' he says. Work is never far from Lee's thoughts though, his brain always ticking over thinking about what's next. 'I feel very fortunate and thrilled that so many people still take the time to tune into anything we are doing,' he says of his creative endeavours. 'Hopefully it continues. 'But if not, I will certainly get my coat on the way out, and say thanks very much and move along.'
The Age
16-06-2025
- Health
- The Age
Cosmetic surgery ads have invaded my safe space
Everyone needs a safe space. For some, it's the cafe on the corner with the too-small tables. For others, it's the arms of the just-right person. For me, it's a gym with Avicii's greatest hits pumping at 140 decibels through airwaves sodden with vaporised sweat. Or it was, before my little slice of heaven's 31 (yes, I've counted them) television screens started playing cosmetic surgery ads every 12 minutes. 'Male jawline enhancement', 'intimate area rejuvenation', 'fat dissolving injections', 'skin tightening', 'hair loss treatment' – if you thought body dysmorphia was just for the ladies, get ready fellas! Arnold Schwarzenegger once said, 'the gym is the temple, and the weights are the altar'. For 10 years, I've studied the lifting liturgies, himbo hymns and calloused psalms, and it's made me a more confident and open person. Confident because, through hard work, I can do things that would astonish my younger self. Open because, through bulged discs, I am incapable of crossing my arms standoffishly. At its shredded core, the gym is an innocent place. One where men can wear their insecurities on their sleeves – typically lions, Roman numerals and, for the discerning white guy, Polynesian geometries. It's a place where you can say 'your biceps are incredible, dude' and 'I like it when the numbers go up' and pretend – just for a while – that lifting heavy things is what you were put on God's green earth to do. Loading Well, that innocence is under siege. Since time immemorial, my gym's television screens have been reserved for (a) that game show hosted by Andy from Hamish & Andy, and (b) reruns of NRL games from the 80s (when men were men and CTE was just a twinkle in a researcher's eye). Not any more. The disturbing nature of the ads is made worse by the disturbing nature of the spokesperson, a man I can only describe as the Mayor of Uncanny Valley. His skin is stretched so tight around his scalp that sympathetic viewers are at risk of compression headaches. His eyes hover with the same peculiar stillness that makes fighter pilots call in UFOs. His high beam veneers do all the smiling for him.
Sydney Morning Herald
16-06-2025
- Health
- Sydney Morning Herald
Cosmetic surgery ads have invaded my safe space
Everyone needs a safe space. For some, it's the cafe on the corner with the too-small tables. For others, it's the arms of the just-right person. For me, it's a gym with Avicii's greatest hits pumping at 140 decibels through airwaves sodden with vaporised sweat. Or it was, before my little slice of heaven's 31 (yes, I've counted them) television screens started playing cosmetic surgery ads every 12 minutes. 'Male jawline enhancement', 'intimate area rejuvenation', 'fat dissolving injections', 'skin tightening', 'hair loss treatment' – if you thought body dysmorphia was just for the ladies, get ready fellas! Arnold Schwarzenegger once said, 'the gym is the temple, and the weights are the altar'. For 10 years, I've studied the lifting liturgies, himbo hymns and calloused psalms, and it's made me a more confident and open person. Confident because, through hard work, I can do things that would astonish my younger self. Open because, through bulged discs, I am incapable of crossing my arms standoffishly. At its shredded core, the gym is an innocent place. One where men can wear their insecurities on their sleeves – typically lions, Roman numerals and, for the discerning white guy, Polynesian geometries. It's a place where you can say 'your biceps are incredible, dude' and 'I like it when the numbers go up' and pretend – just for a while – that lifting heavy things is what you were put on God's green earth to do. Loading Well, that innocence is under siege. Since time immemorial, my gym's television screens have been reserved for (a) that game show hosted by Andy from Hamish & Andy, and (b) reruns of NRL games from the 80s (when men were men and CTE was just a twinkle in a researcher's eye). Not any more. The disturbing nature of the ads is made worse by the disturbing nature of the spokesperson, a man I can only describe as the Mayor of Uncanny Valley. His skin is stretched so tight around his scalp that sympathetic viewers are at risk of compression headaches. His eyes hover with the same peculiar stillness that makes fighter pilots call in UFOs. His high beam veneers do all the smiling for him.
