Tributes - 2004

George Mallaby

1939-2004

(Written for The Sydney Morning Herald)

When George Mallaby joined the cast of "Homicide" in 1967, it might have seemed like an ideal job: a regular role in Australia's top-rating television series, which had already been sold to Britain (at the time, a rare feat for Australian drama). Rather than buy himself a sports car, however, the pragmatic actor invested in a property, 80 kilometres outside Melbourne, where he started one of Australia's early hazelnut farms.

            He expanded this farm for a number of years, as his "basic protection against the insecurity of show business". "I don't want to revert to the situation I was in when I joined 'Homicide'," he would write in 1972. "I came to Melbourne to join the show with two dollars in my pocket and a pair of jeans to my name."

            The hazelnuts might have been a worthy experiment, but they were probably unnecessary. Mallaby would go to make 265 episodes of "Homicide" (roughly half of the series' entire run), playing Detective (later Senior Detective) Peter Barnes, the show's "swinging, guitar-playing bachelor". (Mallaby himself played guitar, and in one Christmas episode, performed a song as part of a concert for orphaned children.) Inevitably, he quickly became a celebrity; his first marriage in 1968 was invaded by over 500 screaming fans, trampling his new wife's wedding gown.

            During Mallaby's time in "Homicide", the series became even more popular, and the 1971 quartet -- Mallaby, tough Leonard Teale, crusty Alwyn Kurts and strong, silent Norman Yemm -- are often considered the consummate "Homicide" cast. Despite being among Australia's most famous faces, however, all four made a smooth transition to further television success.

            Policing, however, was in Mallaby's blood. He was born in Hartlepool, England, on 4 November 1939, and came to Australia with his parents at age 16. Though his father was a policeman, the younger Mallaby worked as a signwriter and a crayfisherman before settling into acting, making his debut at the Adelaide Arts festival, and appearing in several plays at Adelaide's Sheridan Theatre. He soon won some television roles in Melbourne.

            Before long, Crawford Productions offer him a role in their linchpin series, "Homicide", described by television historian Don Storey (not unreasonably) as "the most important and most popular drama series ever produced in America". The dour police-detectives, rarely seen without their hats, would tackle such taboo subjects as pack rape, drugs, homosexuality and the occult.

            Mallaby had only one problem with all that: the hats. When co-producer Dorothy Crawford gave him some money to buy a hat like everyone else, he deliberately bought the silliest-looking one he could find, hoping that "Homicide"'s budget (a grand sum of $7000 an episode) would not allow a replacement, and he could go hatless. Instead, the hat (which looked remarkably like all the others) passed Crawford's seal of approval, and he was stuck with it.

            Usually, the "Homicide" detectives were a deadly serious bunch. Backstage, however, they were known for a lighter sense of humour (revealed at telethons and other events), which made colleagues suggest that they were equally well-suited to comedy. Mallaby, though trained in unarmed combat, admitted that he was nothing like his character. "The real George Mallaby is a coward," he once said. "He hates fighting. He just talks fast -- very fast."

            Mallaby remained on "Homicide" for six years, both as an actor and a script-writer. "Acting I can turn on and off," he wrote in TV Times magazine, "but writing requires a mood. It might be called a creative mood, I suppose. Unfortunately for those close to me, the mood often seems to come around 4 a.m. I get a spasm of creativity and just have to jump out of bed and start writing."

            Eventually, unable to negotiate a suitable contract, he left the series in 1973, with Barnes suffering from a nervous collapse due to the strain of so many murder cases. (Mallaby continued to write, later adding "Matlock Police" and "Prisoner" to his resume.)

            The next year he had a regular role in "The Box", Crawfords' raunchy new series set in a Melbourne television station. "The Box" was despised by critics and morals campaigners, but Mallaby won a Logie (an honour that "Homicide" had never provided him) for his role as womanising production manager Paul Donovan.

            Nonetheless, he left the sordid drama of "The Box" after a year, to make mini-series like "The Power Without Glory" (1976) and movies such as "Eliza Fraser" (1976), even a small role in the James Bond flick "The Spy Who Loved Me" (1977).

            His next regular role -- in another Crawfords drama, "Cop Shop" -- might have seemed an unusual choice. He had previously done cop shows and soap operas for Crawford's; "Cop Shop" was both. If this was typecasting, however, it was very unusual. Whatever his parentage, Mallaby's cheeky good looks didn't exactly make him look like a model police officer.

            "Cop Shop" promoted Mallaby to the role of Detective Sergeant Glen Taylor, in charge of the CIB, with an insecure society wife (Rowena Wallace), a teenage daughter discovering sex (Jo-Anne Moore), and a wealthy father-in-law who pressured him to stop working for "peanuts".

            Though he left "Cop Shop" in 1979, he was hardly unemployed. He had a regular role in "Prisoner" for a year (1980), made more mini-series during the eighties ("Sword of Honour", "All the Way"), and appeared alongside Julian McMahon in the drama "The Power, the Passion" (1989). His last regular role was in the intriguing game show / comedy / mystery series "Cluedo" (1992), playing the stuffy Colonel Mustard. In 1992 he suffered the first of a series of strokes, which confined him to a wheelchair and forced him into retirement.

            Sadly, his 25 years of television work is rarely seen in reruns. "Homicide" and "Cop Shop" are certainly dated, but not without appeal. Perhaps, with the whispers of a new "Aussie Gold" television station, younger viewers might yet discover what all the fuss was about.