Thirty years after he won our hearts as the bumbling, unwashed and supremely dim Baldrick in the long-running Blackadder TV series, Sir Tony Robinson and his Time Walks crew visited the Barossa, Australia’s best-known wine region. I was lucky enough to grab a few minutes of his time — and it was a delightful encounter. This interview was originally published in the Winter 2013 edition of Barossa Living magazine.
It’s mid-afternoon in the backroom of Tanunda Cellars and British actor-turned documentary maker Tony Robinson is recording a piece to camera about winemaker Max Schubert and the knock-backs he endured in the creation of Grange.
“Each year he’d carefully lay down the new vintage, until one day he received a letter from his bosses asking to taste this mysterious wine,” he says, looking up into the camera.
“Carefully he uncorks the bottle and slowly begins to pour. They lift their glasses and take a sip. Pheewwhhh! ‘It’s disgusting’ they scream. Max was mortified.”
As soon as he utters the word Pheewwhh, you realise that Baldrick is alive and well – and walking down the aisle of your nearest bottle shop. It’s thirty years since Robinson, Rowan Atkinson, Hugh Laurie, Stephen Fry and the cast of Blackadder first began their rampage through the pages of English history, but Baldrick’s appeal is undiminished.
“Love your work, Tony – watched every episode of Blackadder and also your history shows,” says a big bloke in a tan jacket, who walks directly into frame (narrowly missing the sound boom) to shake hands with the diminutive TV star; oblivious to fact that the whole segment will need to be scrapped and re-recorded.
Robinson, his wife Louise Hobbs and Melbourne-based film crew are spending three days in the Barossa, filming a segment for the second series of Tony Robinson Time Walks which will be broadcast on Foxtel’s The History Channel in 2014; the first series was one of the most popular shows ever to screen on The History Channel. His previous documentary work, Time Team and The Worst Jobs in History, also won high praise from viewers and critics.
While the Robinson and the crew seem remarkably laid-back (dealing with over-enthusiastic fans, ringing mobile phones and revving engines is an occupational hazard) it’s clear that making a documentary about the some of the more eccentric episodes in Australia’s (and New Zealand’s) recent history is no walk in the park – even when they’re filming in a park.
The ten-part series runs to a punishing schedule. The crew has just arrived from Kalgoorlie – the following day they’ll hop on a plane to Launceston. By 3pm Robinson, 67, has already visited the farmer’s market in Angaston, had a long table lunch at Peter Lehmann Wines and is about to visit the Kegel Club to record another segment.
“How long have I been here?” he says, looking around for his producer Mary Wagstaffe. “Not quite sure. Oh, two days, that’s right. I know we were in Kalgoorlie before that.”
Rather than memorize a script (“I’m far too lazy,” he says), Robinson digests a huge number of facts which he then regurgitates as a seamless narrative, delivered in his own distinct patois – the banter of a smart, well-travelled and extremely funny London cabbie.
Portrait of Tony Robinson by Peter Hoare, reprinted with kind permission
The shambolic Baldrick-esque façade hides a well-stocked brain and deeply inquisitive personality. “I left school when I was just 16,” he once said. “I have been surrounded all my life by smart-arsed, academically minded people who often talked a language I found inaccessible … emotionally, I’ve always wanted to tell stories. That’s probably my way of keeping the darkness at bay.”
While the Time Walks series takes ignores the normal strictures of formal history, Robinson is nevertheless clearly trying to dig down to the truth – and determined to capture (and celebrate) the essence of his chosen destinations.
Having visited the Barossa several times before Robinson knew something of the history of white settlement and wine-making, but was surprised to discover many other aspects to the Barossa story – including its deep agricultural roots.
“I’d always assumed that grapes had been the backbone of the place since the Seppelts arrived but to find out about the other farming that went on here – such as the fruit growing tradition –has been a real treat,” he says.
“I went to the farmer’s market this morning and found it really exciting to see so many independent producers still operating today. No surprise that I bumped into a guy called Tetsuya [Wakuda] – who just happens to be Australia’s most famous chef. We were both blown away by the quality of the produce and the commitment and drive of the people.
“For example, Tets wanted to buy all the lettuces off one person and they said ‘No, I can’t do that. These lettuces are for other people in the Barossa to enjoy’.”
As a Pom, albeit a famous one, Robinson is acutely aware that he is no position to lecture Australians about their own history. But being an outsider perhaps gives him more licence to interrogate some of the nation’s myths – and slaughter its most delicious sacred cows.
“I feel ignorance has an advantage because I don’t know what’s difficult territory,” he says. “I don’t know what’s politically correct.”
Having visited the Barossa several times before, Robinson was once again struck by people’s strong, peasant-like attachment to the soil and their enduring sense of honour; a commodity which is becoming rare in the 21st century.
“I was talking to [winemaker] Peter Lehmann earlier today and I was really impressed with this notion of ‘my word is my bond’ – something which was incredibly important during the tough years for the wine industry in the 1970s and 80s,” he says.
“Even people who no longer attend church on Sunday still adhere to the whole Lutheran morality – a particular attitude towards land, animals and produce. France is the only country which shares this attitude to land – a combination of sophistication and almost child-like absorption.”
As a keen environmentalist and long-time supporter of the British Labour Party, Robinson is appalled at proposals by the current UK government to allow more housing to be built in the English countryside – and admires the Barossa’s determination to protect its rural heritage.
“At the moment in the UK we’re backtracking on planning regulations – such as the famous green belt around London – that we’ve had since the Second World War,” he says.
“This could the legacy that everyone remembers about the Cameron government; in the same way people remember a previous Tory government for Lord Beeching and the destruction of the country’s railways network.”
Despite what he admits is just a “whistle-stop” trip to the Barossa, Robinson clearly feels very protective towards the Barossa and worries about the negative impact of increased tourism on a region which revels in its sense of isolation.
“Part of me wants to say [to a global television audience] come here, come here!” he says, lapsing back into Badrick mode. “But there’s another part of me which says ‘Well if everyone does that the Barossa will lose its individual character’.”
Not that Tony Robinson Time Walks could ever be accused of being a superficial travelogue. As its irrepressible host explains, the whole point of the exercise to bring history to life, warts and all – not to gloss over the embarrassing chapters.
“I really want to celebrate the Barossa,” he says. “But you need to be realistic about the history of the place. It wasn’t settled by a bunch of intelligent, kind saints. There were plenty of loonies. But that’s part of human nature, isn’t it?”
The Barossa is a 90-minute drive from Adelaide, capital of South Australia. Legendary winemaker Peter Lehmann died in 2013, shortly after this interview. Kegel is an indoor bowls style brought to South Australia by German-speaking migrants in the 19th Century.