by Stephen Vagg
Last Call is one of the more obscure Australian television plays of the 1950s which, as I’m all too aware, is saying something.
No copy exists, there are few reviews, and I’ve been unable to ascertain much information about its writer and/or the circumstances of its production. However, it does have one point of interest – the cast featured Richard Pratt, better known as the cardboard king, aka one of the richest men in Australia.
Pratt’s family were Jewish refugees from Poland, where Pratt was born in 1934. They emigrated to Australia in 1938, living in the Victorian countryside before relocating to Melbourne, where Pratt’s father set up the company that was to become Visy, which made cardboard (and many other things).
I think the plan was always for Pratt to go into the family business, but while at Melbourne University, he was bitten by the acting bug and started appearing in plays.
Pratt was a rugged, virile type (he played Under-19s for Carlton) and there’s always a shortage of such actors – he popped up in productions such as Bus Stop, Death of a Salesman and Ned Kelly, as well as a Jewish Students’ Revue.
Pratt’s acting career, such as it was, received a massive break in January 1957, when jt was announced that he would join the cast of Summer of the Seventeenth Doll.
Ray Lawler’s classic drama about ageing cane cutters and their womenfolk in Carlton had been a sensation with the public since its 1955 debut for the Union Theatre, under the direction of John Sumner. The play had transferred to Sydney for presentation by the Elizabethan Theatre Trust, then toured around the country, and was preparing for a return trip to Sydney. Some members of the cast stayed for its entire run, all the way to Broadway, notably June Jago and Fenella Maguire [Pratt is pictured with Maguire in main image]. Others were replaced, either because they were too young to start with (Noel Ferrier) or had rival commitments (Lloyd Berrell). A few different actors had played the smaller but significant role of Johnny Dowd, the young cutter who threatens Roo’s status. They needed a new one for the Sydney run and Sumner cast Pratt.
The director later recalled in his memoirs, “We needed someone who could create an immediate impact, someone who had charisma,” and described Pratt as “a young actor who had made his mark in university drama” and “had the right qualities.” Pratt’s performance was well received in Sydney, the Herald declaring he “had the right sort of animal self-confidence”.
In March 1957, it was announced that the Sydney cast would appear in the London production of Doll – this comprised of Kenneth Warren, Ray Lawler, June Jago, Madge Ryan, Ethel Gabriel, Fenella Maguire and Richard Pratt. The London season was a triumph, receiving excellent reviews and houses, and the film rights to the play were bought by Hollywood production company Hecht-Hill-Lancaster for a healthy amount.
In November 1957, it was announced that the play would take its London cast (including Pratt) and go to Broadway. After a seven-month run in England they opened in New York in January 1958. American reviews were less impressive, and Doll only lasted 29 performances.
In March 1958, it was reported that Ethel Gabriel and Pratt had done screen tests for the film version of Doll in Hollywood under the supervision of director Delbert Mann (who’d just made Separate Tables for Hecht-Hill Lancaster, with Australia’s own Rod Taylor in a small role). Gabriel got the gig in the ultimately unsatisfactory 1959 film version, directed by Leslie Norman – incidentally, she was the only cast member of the film who’d appeared in the play on stage; the part of Johnny Dowd was played, not particularly well, by Vincent Ball.
Warren, Lawler, Gabriel, and Ryan relocated to Europe for their careers (though most moved back to Australia eventually). Maguire married a French millionaire. Pratt returned home. He appeared in various theatre productions around town, notably for the Habima Players (a Jewish theatre group) and towards the end of 1958, was cast in his first television drama, the play Last Call, filmed by the ABC in Melbourne in October.
Last Call was from a script by Donald Fraser, a writer about whom I know very little (he may also have gone by the name of Donald Gurrey). I suspect he was English – he definitely wasn’t Australian – and had a military background, because the script is strong on military matters. Normally, the ABC filmed plays done on British television, but I’ve been unable to find out any details of a British production of Last Call – it is possible it was produced under a different name.
I have read the script, a copy of which is kept in the National Archives of Australia. The action starts in the office of General Zaguerro, the President (“near dictator”) of a fictitious South American republic, Estragan, which is under attack by forces of neighbouring Torril over minerals found within Estragan’s borders. Zaguerro is in the office with his vice president, Villadiego, and the Minister of the Interior, Pelmago. They receive a report from Captain Delmonico that the war is going badly.
Zaguerro wants to join the front to rejuvenate the troops. He has been reluctant to do so because of his protective feelings of his 20-year-old niece, Camelia. Pelmago starts whispering Iago-style thoughts into the ear of Villadiego, who loves Camelia.
A shipment of weapons arrives, delivered by soldier of fortune, Captain Rockett. Rockett admits that he stole the weapons from the Torrils, so they do not trust him. Nonetheless, the General takes a liking to Rockett and asks him to look after Camelia if anything goes wrong on his trip, saying he has access to money. Rockett likes the General and agrees.
Pelmago persuades Villadiego and a Lt Jiminez, who also loves Camelia, to turn against the General and get rid of Rockett. Villadiego declares his love for Camelia, but she rejects him. She has developed feelings for Rockett and they kiss. Pelmago tells Rockett that he must leave the country without Camelia and puts the soldier of fortune under guard from Jiminez. Rockett persuades Jiminez to let Camelia and Rockett leave. He also gives Rockett the location of where the General might have gone so that Rockett can leave a message warning of Pelmago’s coup attempt.
Camelia tells Rockett she loves him and leaves, to go wait for Rockett. Rockett gets through on the phone, leaving a message asking for the General to get back at once, but before he can complete it, Pelmago mortally wounds him with a gunshot. Before he dies, Rockett shoots Pelmago dead.
The cast of Last Call also included Wynn Roberts, John Morgan, and June Thompson. Pratt played a “minister”, which I think meant Pelmago. Chris Muir directed.
The script is a decent 60 minutes of story, tightly structured, fast paced and inherently dramatic. It is very sympathetic to the General, who is basically a dictator, and boils down the war to a battle over Camelia, who falls in love with Rockett very quickly – but that does personalise the drama. The characters are well sketched and the narrative builds to a solid climax. It would make a perfectly acceptable junky Alan Ladd/Humphrey Bogart film shot on the studio backlot. I have no idea why the ABC thought it was appropriate to be filmed, but they had a taste for such tales – I’ve written a piece on the similar-ish You Can’t Win ‘Em All.
Last Call aired in Melbourne in late 1958 as part of a fortnightly “season” of six Australian dramas. Others in the line-up were The Governess, The Lark, Enemy of the People, The Rose and Crown and Citizen of Westminster. Only one was set in Australia – Enemy of the People, a redo of Ibsen about which I’ve written before.
TV Listener critic “Ion” called Last Call “a wordy, well lighted rigamarole about a revolution in an unbelievable South American state run by incredible people. And I certainly only stayed in response to the call of duty… It seems lately that the ABC has become obsessed by mechanical technique and production. The best lighting and the best camerawork in the world, the best producing, don’t make a good television play. You’ve got to have a good television play to go with it. Just as it was in Shakespeare’s day the secret of drama is to be found in the playwright’s basic material. Without a story that captures audience attention, characters who are credible and situations that are logically and easily developed – there can be no play – for TV, films or stage.”
The play was ferociously criticised in an internal ABC memo from ABC’s deputy general manager Clement Semmler, which stated: “All are in agreement that the standard of production of this play was below that to be expected of our live plays and below the standard normally achieved by Mr Muir. Much of the acting was amateurish and gave little indication of high standard of direction. Camera work, while adequate, never achieved any degree of integration with the action. The play itself was of fair quality for an entertainment play and a satisfactory program would normally have been anticipated.”
Pratt acted in a few more theatre productions throughout 1958, including the debut of The Ballad of Alley’s Angel, but gave it up to focus on his business. A crucial factor could have been his engagement to Jeanne in January 1959.
“I would have liked to have been a very successful actor but there are very few successful actors,” reflected Pratt later. “So I went back to the family business. I guess I was a very good businessman.”
And some. When he died in 2009, he was worth over five billion dollars.
By being cast in Summer of the Seventeenth Doll, Pratt had lucked out, really, into the opportunity of a lifetime – a not-particularly challenging part in one of our greatest plays that took him to Sydney, the West End, Broadway and (albeit briefly) Hollywood. How many actors could do that? He could’ve had an acting career – particularly if he’d stayed in London – but never achieved what he did in business.
Last Call didn’t get much of a mention in his obituaries, so I thought I should give it a note here.
