Mobster the real deal
Following a recent cascade of Australian crime series and dramatised accounts of Underbelly, it was fascinating to view the real thing.
Tough Nuts (Sky 71, Sundays) told the story of Sydney mobster George Freeman, who could have inspired Underbelly and anything that crawled beneath it.
As told by crime writer Tara Moss, Freeman was born a crook and learned carnage on his mother’s knee. He didn’t know his father and his stepfather died at an early age.
Freeman didn’t drift into crime, he won the sprint to become the 100 metre breaking and entering champion. But he was a clumsy criminal and spent too much time in jail and reform school.
He needed a mentor and found one in Lenny Mcpherson. Mcpherson recognised Freeman’s ability as a successful gambler and unlocked a door to illegal syndicate and casino operations. There this suave but vicious gangster basked in the full flush of success. The women who surrounded him enjoyed curling up with a good bookie.
From that point on Freeman loved life, punctuating it by sending such sordid underworld figures as Johnny Regan and Chris Flannery to the celestial casino in the sky.
But Freeman had a weakness for prescription drugs. Combine them with heavy smoking and asthma and he had a cocktail of health conditions. In 1990 at the age of 55, his chronic asthma led to a heart attack and Freeman’s gamble with life ended.
The documentary was thorough with half of Sydney’s retired police force giving an insight into Freeman’s life, although the most penetrating comment came from journalist Bob Bottom.
He called Freeman ‘‘a vicious little turd’’, which is probably appropriate from someone with a name such as Bottom.
Freeman had fewer redeeming features than a killer whale and it was disappointing that Moss and her team made only passing reference to his desire to help his mother with the proceeds of crime.
There could have been goodness lurking somewhere but Tough Nuts didn’t look in the direction of the lurk. That’s also been the problem of Underbelly.
Meanwhile, there’s great irony about Monty Python being refused access to the famous castles of Scotland when they sought to film their Holy Grail movie. The authorities believed they would desecrate them, forgetting that the castles had been drenched in blood for hundreds of years.
In Monty Python: Almost the Truth (Prime, Mondays), the comedians looked back at their first movie shot in six weeks with two looney directors, pouring rain, armour that rusted and stuffed animals thrown from the ramparts.
It was a great success. Elvis Presley watched it 45 times. I can still see him turning to Priscilla and saying ‘‘Are you lonesome tonight? It’s now or never. We won’t return to sender.’’