Mad Monday with Matty, Fletch and the gang
THERE’S a good reason why Bryan Fletcher’s jokes aren’t put to air. We had two women in our audience for Monday Night With Matty Johns. One was in a Souths jumper, the other sporting a Cronulla scarf.
Fletcher checked with both, regarding language and content, before launching into his first couple of gags. Once he’d established where the line might be, he happily crossed it for the rest of the show.
‘‘Ha ha, great joke Fletch,’’ host Matthew Johns said on the way back from one of the last ad breaks. It was. But, honestly, you don’t want to know.
A former Fairfax colleague had teed up the spot on Monday’s guest list. He went in a Warriors jersey and insisted I wear the Raiders one he’d gone to some trouble to get hold of.
I refused and was happy to find that the jumper to non-jumper ratio was about 50-50 as we gathered in reception. Below us Megan Barnard, owner of one of the broader Aussie accents around, was reading the network’s latest sports bulletin.
My mate’s a staffer, so we ducked down to his desk, where journalists tapped out copy as Barnard read from the autocue a few metres away.
Fletcher was floating about and said g’day, at which point it was time to join the other audience members again. The Tigers were playing the Raiders and we were escorted into a theatre to watch the game in the company of 50-odd pizzas. Very good they were, too.
With 15 minutes left in the game it was down to the studio to meet Ray. He’s running the show and conducts a tutorial in the arts of clapping and cheering.
Our practice session goes poorly until the cast members arrive: Gorden Tallis, Nathan Hindmarsh and Fletcher were first, before Johns appears.
They’re nervous. Live TV is no easy gig and there’s a definite edge to proceedings. Johns needs a few takes to nail his thank you to the commentators in Canberra and then we’re into the show.
My mate had said ‘‘she’s intimate in there’’ and wasn’t wrong. The studio is tiny and there’s no escaping the camera when it pans by.
It takes a pre-recorded item, in which Fletcher is kidnapped and tortured, to loosen the hosts up. After that it feels like a night at the pub,
Fletcher won’t stop telling jokes in the breaks, which annoys Tallis, who says he’s been using the same material for three years. Challenged, Fletcher digs deep and soon everyone’s in stitches.
Lara Pitt arrives for her news segment. Neither her shoes nor dress look made for walking and getting her up the two steps and on to the couch is a bit of an exercise. She’s got a joke, though, and even Ray, who must be the floor manager or something, tells one of his own. It’s strong stuff.
Because it’s a TV show, your attention often turns to the monitors. You forget that they’re all sitting right there.
The strain occasionally shows on Johns’ face but the others are very relaxed, very natural. They clearly enjoy each other’s company and there’s a lot of giggling and mucking around anytime they’re off-camera.
Then it’s over. Johns comes over to say thanks. His Big Weekend show is pre-recorded at lunchtime and we’re welcome to put our names down.
Tallis lingers, before ducking off to get changed. His checked shirt is soon replaced by a black T-shirt. Barnard bustles by on the way back to her studio, and it’s time for the rest of us to go.
It’s been fun. The bits that viewers don’t see certainly create a mood in the studio that’s loose and even collegial.
You hope everyone at home enjoyed it just as much.