Why put a TV series on ice for a podcast?
I had been on the brink of signing a deal with a major Australian production company to have my multi-episode scripted drama Use Of Force developed into a TV series when, in late 2019, I caught up with a producer friend of mine — David Curry — who happens to be a podcast fanatic.
When I mentioned the hundreds of hours of intimate phone calls I’d recorded with a whistle blowing female ex-cop as research for the TV series, he instantly recognised the opportunity the explosive material presented for a compelling true crime podcast series.
I was underwhelmed.
Screen stories were my thing. Exquisite visuals, compelling performances, universal themes. Radio plays, not so much.
Then 2020 happened, COVID-19 infections took off and the film and TV production industry came to a screeching halt.
Even so, the last thing I wanted to do during COVID-19 lockdown was make a bloody podcast.
I wasn’t ambivalent. I was militant. Belligerently prosecuting the case against me making an iso-podcast, just to feel productive.
There were already memes popping up ridiculing the idea. And the ABC in Australia had taken the extraordinary path of making an expletive riddled video imploring citizens not to start a podcast during lockdown. With Aussie celebs urging us all to “Just shut the f@ck up!”
Maybe that’s what swung it for me. Being told to shut up.
September 2020, Use of Force launched as a six episode podcast series based on those audio files recorded as research for the TV series. Elegantly edited by David, my patient podcast loving producer friend.
The series was picked up by Apple as ‘New and Noteworthy’, quickly propelling it into Apple Podcast’s top 10 true crime charts in Australia, with download rates pushing the show into the top 5% of global podcasts.
The joy of connecting with a passionate, highly engaged audience has been validating. And for Brigid White*, the brave woman at the centre of this story — it has been truly life changing.
Escaping the gatekeepers of the screen industry — distributors, financiers — men in suits who still view female screen stories, with female protagonists, as somehow niche — has been liberating for me.
That’s really what clinched it — the tantalising idea that in the podcasting wild west, no-one was going to get between the story and the audience.
The irony is, just as I had all but given up on my filmmaking dreams, “the number of podcasts being adapted for television is set to explode”, according to Dateline .com, “with audio IP rivalling books as Hollywood’s go to source for inspiration.”
By giving her permission to release what had been private phone calls, Brigid has taken us into the hidden world of corruption, misogyny and high risk offenders within the force.
Brigid White was nearly destroyed by the police brotherhood, but she has certainly found her voice now. And her ongoing commitment to victims of sexual assault and domestic violence ensure her talents have not been lost to the community.
I fought hard against making a podcast, so I am eternally grateful to my collaborators — David and Brigid — who urged me to ignore the chatter, and my own doubts, and do it anyway.
*Brigid White’s real name has been withheld for safety.
