If it were not for Broadie-boy-made-good Eddie McGuire, the pulp-crime franchise Underbelly might never have been made.
So claims John Silvester, co-author of the original gangland book, Leadbelly:The Inside Story of an Underworld War along with series producer, Peter Gawlor.
McGuire, the former newspaper sports journalist, football broadcaster and compere of Channel Nine’s the Footy Show and Who Wants to be a Millionaire, may well have suffered the ignominy of a failed stint as network CEO, but in that brief period of intoxicating power, Eddie Everywhere’s imprimatur underscored the decision to adapt the Underbelly phenomenon to television.
Growing up in Broadmeadows – just as convicted murderer and drug dealer Carl Williams did – McGuire aspired to fame and prosperity. He’s a natural performer. Reporter, business entrepreneur, television celebrity and AFL Football Club President, his star rose, it would be fair to say, much higher than his humble background might have predicted for him. Charismatic Eddie makes no apologies for his working class roots; in fact he trots it out with sentimental monotony.
McGuire’s pride is similar to the defiant pride amongst many Australians, a knockabout sensibility that champions the underdog. That’s not to say that the average Australian isn’t horrified by heinous crime, such as murder, but is there a national psyche that fosters this obsession with crime as entertainment? Perhaps it’s not so much the ‘glamour’ treatment given to crime dramas by television producers that makes them so popular. Maybe it’s simply the content itself that viewers find so mesmerising.
Williams’ emergence from Broadmeadows was vastly different to McGuire’s. A dough-faced mummy’s boy, he launched his criminal career as a race-track lackey, and as unremarkable a figure as he was, his talent was in organising. He may have craved the fame and spotlight Maguire earned, but Williams’ star shone with much duller gilt. A Mobstar as Silvester labelled him.
Over his career Maguire has built his personal brand while revolutionising his beloved Collingwood Football Club. He head-hunted industry big names, negotiated huge sponsorship deals, and flexed his considerable muscle to secure preferential fixturing and broadcast prominence.
He has also thrown his hand to politics as a prominent talking head for Australia’s Republican push, just as Williams became the self-styled ‘Premier’ of Victoria, giving himself the moniker because he thought he alone was able to “make the hard decisions.”¹
Williams organised himself out of small-time northern suburbs crookdom to take on the big city gangs; the Carlton Crew, the Melbourne Establishment. He ignored the Code, refused to serve an apprenticeship and openly thumbed his nose at traditional crime bosses.
The rest, as we know from McGuire’s network series success, is history.
¹Carl Williams letter to journalist Rochelle Jackson from Barwon Prison, 7 August, 2007.
Article Plan
For this feature story I’ve gone for a parallel profile of Eddie McGuire and Carl Williams, who both hail from Broadmeadows, but have lived very different lives. As divergent as they are, their respective careers line up interestingly against each other, and they share an instantly recognised celebrity. Say Eddie, say Carl, people know who you’re talking about.
My angle looks at the nature of celebrity in the glamorisation of crime. I am intrigued by the serendipitous links these two share, and am curious about McGuire’s enthusiasm for the television series to be made.
The reason for this angle is because while I was researching for this assignment, I came across an interesting tidbit: McGuire had lobbyed hard for the Underbelly series to be made, apparently the network executives were not at all interested initially.
To flesh this article out fully, I would incorporate fully attributable direct quotes by trying to interview the following people:
- Eddie McGuire
- John Silvester/Peter Gawlor
- A pyscologist specialising in popular culture, and/or crime
- A Broadmeadows link: teacher, priest, counsellor, etc
