Press Club — best-kept secret in city
If my information is correct and that noted scribe Steve Braunias is to be believed, this coming Friday, May 18, will see something rather special occur in Hamilton.
Alison Mau, journalist and onetime nightly news reader, will address a select audience of somewhere between 100 and 120 people. Her topic will likely relate to the New Zealand #metoo movement, of which she is the founder and public face. This will happen at lunchtime. Those lucky enough to attend will not have to pick up the bill.
The Hamilton Press Club has arisen, phoenix-like, from the ashes of the Wintec Press Club. It owes its existence to Hamiltonians, past and present, who have refused to let a good thing die. Brian Squair, one of the few city residents who could legitimately be labelled ‘‘irrepressible’’, is to the fore of this lot. Chow: Hill Architects, of which Mr Squair is managing director, is underwriting the exercise. The free lunch continues.
The Wintec Press Club was New Zealand’s best-kept secret. It was designed that way. Despite being a forum for media types to meet, converse and help themselves to copious amounts of vino, gratis, the whole thing was meant to be held ‘‘in camera’’. Much like goings-on in Vegas or the Fight Club, you were not allowed to talk about it afterwards.
Given that Wintec itself has since published a book on the subject, I would say those rules no longer apply. There must be a statute of limitations on old stories anyway.
I first got invited back in 2010. Wintec had had the foresight to employ Mr Braunias as editor-inresidence of its School of Media Arts. Mr Braunias had discovered my ramshackle place of business and somehow decided that the event would benefit from the presence of a DVD rental shop owner. This was convenient, as he had sole say in such matters.
Paul Holmes was to address his peers on a subject close to his heart: Paul Holmes. He showed up in a bomber jacket that would not have been out of place on Captain Biggles, believing he would be talking to a dozen Wintec journalism students. This was essentially correct. He just didn’t realise that the room would be full of nationally notable writers, bloggers, politicians and television personalities as well. Mr Holmes’ response was in some ways magnificent, a largely extemporised, elephantine oration on the life and times of a media superstar, complete with longwinded digressions. There was some finger-wagging toward the end, something about doing your homework and going the extra mile if you wanted to make it in the business. The moral didn’t sit too well with tales about deliberately provoking Dennis Conner to storm out of the studio live on national television. That was part of the Holmesian paradox. It was the story everyone most wanted to hear and Mr Holmes didn’t disappoint.
I was seated next to Lisa Lewis, a freshly minted celebrity famous for cavorting at rugby matches in swim attire. Ms Lewis was running for the Hamilton mayoralty. Polite inquiries concerning her policies yielded little, but she certainly was pleasant company. Excited about Mr Holmes’ presence, she had arrived early to secure a personal audience. A photo exists of her, Mr Holmes and the reactionary columnist Garth George, a me´nage a` trois for the ages. Only Ms Lewis survives today.
That first luncheon established a pattern: shock whenever I made the invite list, amazement at the calibre of guests and bemusement at what they had to say. Michael Laws, feisty and unapologetic, declared war on all media present. Winston Peters pretty much did the same, but with wit and charm. One was reviled, the other loved. There was a message in there somewhere.
The best presenter I saw was Jesse Mulligan. Unlike Paul Holmes, he understood the brief. Deconstructing his time on Seven Sharp, then in the midst of painful teething problems, Mr Mulligan was candid and insightful, sparing no one, least of all himself. He actually explained how commercial television works. No press club guest can compare with the host, New Zealand’s most fearless public speaker. Steve Braunias treats the lunches like a Dean Martin celebrity roast, cutting the great and the good down to size in the manner of an antipodean Groucho Marx or Don Rickles. His pre-election introduction of Paula Bennett last year might have been mistaken for political bias by the uninitiated, but I reckon it’s a badge of honour to be insulted by the master. Come Friday, Alison Mau will be a very lucky woman indeed.