Comic’s father says show invades privacy
Claims by former curling champion Dan Mustapic that he’s been misrepresented in his son’s TVNZ show, raises questions about what’s fair game in comedy and where to draw the line, writes
THow is it possible that if someone’s got a grievance, then it’s okay to air it on TV and there’s no checks and balances? Where’s my privacy — did anyone consider that? Dan Mustapic
he father of comedian and Celebrity Treasure Island winner James Mustapic has laid an official complaint with TVNZ about his son’s latest show, which he claims includes hurtful comments about him that are “grossly untrue and unfair”.
Dan Mustapic, who works in the mental health sector in Wellington, alleges the programme James-Musta-pic His Mum a Man is an invasion of his privacy. He has sought legal advice on whether to lodge a defamation complaint but was advised that the cost would be prohibitive.
Mustapic has not been in contact with James for the past couple of years but told the Weekend Herald he was aware his son had been using personal material about him in his standup routines, despite being “quite explicit” that he did not want to be involved in any shows or videos. He says he knew nothing about this latest project until promotional ads were screened on TVNZ.
A comic reality show, James-Musta-pic His Mum a Man follows James’ attempts to get his mum, Dunedin psychologist Janet Millichamp, back on the dating scene “in hope of finding the father he’s always wanted”. The six-episode series went to air in early March and is available for streaming on TVNZ+.
While Dan Mustapic isn’t specifically named and his face is blurred in photographs, it’s an unusual surname and there’s a reference to him being on the New Zealand curling team that came last at the 2006 Winter Olympics in Italy.
In the first episode, James says his father left when he was 3 and he grew up without a dad in his life. After reviewing an audition video by one prospective candidate he says, “If this guy was my dad, I would be quite happy to disown him, like my real dad did.”
Later, he rings in a comedian to role-play his father, who gets James’ name wrong and says he spent his child support on curling gear. “One thing Dad taught me,” says James, “is that wives and kids are disposable.”
However, Dan Mustapic rejects his depiction as a man who abandoned his son — citing photographs of them in Disneyland when James was 10 or 11 and in the wedding party when he married his current wife. “So how did I abandon him when he was three years old?” He also says the implication that he tried to avoid paying child support isn’t true.
“How do I end up on TV and I don’t know anything about it?” he says. “How is it possible that if someone’s got a grievance, then it’s okay to air it on TV and there’s no checks and balances? Where’s my privacy — did anyone consider that?”
When asked by the Weekend Herald if any measures had been taken to fact-check the personal information James shares about his father and their relationship, a statement supplied by the network said TVNZ would respond to Mustapic’s concerns through its Formal Complaints process, which gives the broadcaster 20 days to issue a decision. “We are regulated by the Broadcasting Standards Authority under the Broadcasting Act and this is the standard we expect our content to meet.”
The Broadcasting Standards Code covers balanced and accurate reporting, and rights to privacy and fair treatment. Factors determining whether disclosure of private information is “highly offensive” include whether the individual has consented to the broadcast and whether the content is particularly embarrassing or has the potential to impact negatively on reputation.
In its statement to the Herald, TVNZ described James Must-a-pic His Mum a Man as “a satirical comedy series, told from James’ point of view”. In one of the opening scenes, James gets advice from The Bachelor’s Art Green while they’re sitting in an ice bath, with his mum listening in from the shower cubicle. Later, he sets up celebrity dates for his mother with TV presenter Matt Gibb (axe throwing), Act’s David Seymour (tenpin bowling) and the “Elvis of Papakura”, Wayne Anderson, who serenades her in a bar.
Dan Mustapic doesn’t see the funny side of the show and says he’s had texts and emails from people who feel angry about how he’s represented. In his view, similar behaviour in the workplace would be considered bullying and harassment. “At what point does a comedian stop getting a free pass to hide behind ‘not to be taken seriously’?”
A familiar face on the comedy scene for the past decade, James Mustapic is described in his Frank Management profile page as being known for sharing unapologetic stories of people who have done him wrong over the years. His 2022 series, which also screened on TVNZ, was called Abandonment Issues.
When approached for comment, the comedian sent a quick one-liner via email. “Here is my response: Buy tickets to my upcoming stand-up comedy show You Mustapicked The Wrong Guy to Mess With.” On the programme for this year’s NZ International Comedy Festival, the show is being performed in Auckland and Wellington in May.
The debate over where to draw the line when it comes to free speech in comedy and other entertainment formats has tended to focus on sensitive topics such as gender, sexuality, race and religion.
However, Auckland University senior law lecturer Nikki Chamberlain, co-editor of the book Privacy Law in New Zealand, says the use of a third party’s personal information in a public forum without their consent has become increasingly problematic with the explosion of social media. “All of a sudden, you have a forum where information can be disclosed by anyone to a broad audience and I think that has impacted society’s view of what is and is not private and that’s pushing the boundaries wider.”
Generally speaking, a defamation claim would be the primary legal avenue to pursue in relation to a reputational issue, if the information presented is not true. Honest opinion is a potential defence and Chamberlain says some people will not consider a statement to be defamatory if it is done in satire or jest. “You can’t be too thin-skinned is what the cases say. But there is definitely a line that can be crossed when you get past satire.”
Invasion of privacy can be claimed under the tort of “public disclosure of private facts”, where the matter would be highly offensive to an objective, reasonable person. Chamberlain has advocated for an additional tort called misappropriation of personality, where a person’s image, name or likeness is used without consent
for some sort of gain, monetary or otherwise.
“I think where you run into trouble, potentially, is freedom of speech concerns,” she says. “At what stage is it somebody’s right to share their own personal journey or story? And where do you draw a line between what’s appropriate to share as it relates to you, versus information which would be harmful but is true that has impacted on you in relation
to another person?”
Michele A’Court, who began doing stand-up in the 90s, says knowing when to apply the handbrake is something comedians are constantly thinking about, especially when it comes to talking on stage about the people in their lives.
One of her ex-husbands once objected so strongly to some of her material, even though he wasn’t specifically named, that he sent a lawyer along to watch the show. “The lawyer told him there was nothing legally wrong with it,” A’Court says. “Also, that it was very funny. I know there are people who’ve heard me say stuff on stage about my daughter [now 31] and are horrified on her behalf because they think it’s too personal, too mean, too revealing. I don’t, and neither does she. My rule, right from when she was little, is that I always checked with her first.”
A’Court hasn’t seen James-Musta-pic His Mum a Man and doesn’t think the younger generation of stand-up comedians have a looser view on what’s considered fair game. However, she does find it “really uncomfortable” when specific details are shared about someone who isn’t a public figure.
“I say pretty horrific things about politicians because that’s my job to satirise them and take it to an extreme, but I wouldn’t name somebody who lived in my neighbourhood and talk about them on stage,” she says.
“We comedians tell stories about our heartbreaks and traumas and tragedies in the same way that a songwriter or playwright does. We pretend it’s all true, but sometimes there’s some fiction going on, just as you would if you were writing a song about a heartbreak.
“All art is about those big emotional experiences. Whether you’re a painter or a poet or a songwriter or a dancer or a comedian, that’s what you mine.”