Country Squire: Rob Ingram pitches ideas for a rural-based reality TV show.

ROB INGRAM WANTS REPRESENTATION ON TV FOR COUNTRY DWELLERS, AND HE HAS A FEW IDEAS FOR THE NETWORKS …

FORMER MINISTER FOR FOREIGN AFFAIRS Julie Bishop grew up in regional Australia, but then so did bushranger Daniel “Mad Dog” Morgan. Or, if you’re really starstruck, add former Aussie cricketer Glenn Mcgrath and gumboot marathon runner Cliff Young to the list. You might think that’s about it, but it was recently reported that almost nine million Australians live outside our capital cities – and that’s 36 per cent of the total population.

The point the report was making is that television seems oblivious of this fact. When did you last watch a cop drama where an unmarked drug-squad car broadsides to a stop outside a methamphetamine kitchen in Gulargambone? No way. That only happens in the inner west of capital cities. And Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries almost never tracks the culprit to the backstreets of Bilpin.

I don’t mind telling you that our small town doesn’t like being ignored by the small screen, and we decided to do something about it. A band of creative locals gathered at the Jubilee Hall for a pre-production meeting for our own TV series: Dunedoo Real Housewives. And what do you think happened? Midway through the casting arguments, a bombshell was dropped: a film crew had turned up in the district filming for a new season of Farmer Wants a Wife.

In the front bar of the Hotel Dunedoo, this particular program is affectionately known as Farmer Wants Something a Little More Immediate. And among the less crude, there’s the compelling belief that the only thing a farmer could possibly want is 40mm of rainfall.

Now, if there’s something we like less than being ignored, it’s having a bunch of creatives from the big smoke blow in to make a show about our rural lifestyle. Dunedoo Real Housewives

was shifted to the backburner along with Dunedoo’s Got Talent, and we set about researching: What the Farmer Really Wants.

Just by sitting outside the servo, the rural supplies place, the pie shop, the pub, and the stock and station agent, and talking to anyone wearing a hat who had shorn a thousand sheep, we were quickly clued up on the genuine desires of the local farmer. In fact, we instantly had a four-part package to pitch to the major channels.

“I’ve been thinking, though,” said Homer, our Social Content Director, “that the audience will be expecting to see some women – gender equality. We’ve got to get our heads around that.” And so we did.

Episode 1 is ‘Farmer Wants a Grant’. Bazza hopes there’s a grant to replace a couple of kilometres of fencing washed away by floodwaters a year after it was replaced when destroyed by bushfires. Local Land Services send out Wild Dog Fence Extension Project regional resource management advisor Monique, and the rest is history.

Episode 2 is ‘Farmer Wants a Worker’. It’s harvest time and Wilbur’s struggling to find seasonal farm labour during COVID. He advertises for backpackers, but winds up hiring a female woodchopping champion who puts his own efforts to shame.

Episode 3 is ‘Farmer Wants a Time Management Proficiency Plan’. Mitch just can’t seem to get ahead and is repeating the same old chores day after day. A local agronomist recommends long-range planning and farm recordmonitoring analyst (Tier 2) Yolande, who has the farm running like clockwork in no time.

Episode 4 is ‘Farmer Wants a Holiday’. Barnesy is buggered. He’s out working his farm seven days a week and hasn’t had a break in years. He lists his place on Airbnb (not mentioning the 500 head of cattle and feral pigs). When a group of tourists sign up, Barnesy falls for the most adventurous one and they skip off to Byron Bay.

When it comes to reality TV, our regional product leaves the other one for dead. Interest so far is promising.

“OUR TOWN DOESN’T LIKE BEING IGNORED BY THE SMALL SCREEN, AND WE DECIDED TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.”