Death at the Rock

Publication: Sunday Express
Date: 1989-03-26
Author:
Page: 36
Language: English

Verity Lambert made her name with a string of highly successful TV shows. Now she's going it alone with her first film as an independent producer

She is the most powerful woman in British film, with a formidable track record - and yet there was in air of scatty earnestness which seemed, and possibly was, as unlikely as it was contradictory. But you never know. Verity Lambert has a background that would send a squeal of psychiatrists squawking for cover. She was moving office, she said, as she sank into a chair surrounded by packing cases. She took out a cigarette which was to remain disconcertingly unlit as she twiddled it anxiously between her fingers for the next 20 minutes while she chatted about her latest film.

It is one of the occupational hazards of talking to film people, for which a health warning should be issued, that their current project demands of them such total commitment and enthusiasm that if you ask a simple. if unworthy, question of interest to outsiders - such as "How much was Meryl Streep paid?" ("A lot," she replied) - you are in danger of detonating a verbal explosion on an entirely different subject, of such intensity as to exhaust the allotted time of any interview.

In her case there is, for once, admirable justification. For many years, this only daughter of a north London accountant, whose mother wanted her to marry a nice Jewish doctor and settle down to raise children, has, instead, weaned the talents of numerous British writers and actors. She has been responsible for Minder, Rock Follies, Rump& Of The Bailey, Edward And Mrs Simpson and The Naked Crud Servant among many others in a career that has taken her from typing menus at a London hotel to being head of production at EMI. Now her first film as an independent producer is to be released: A Cry in The Dark.

It is about the "dingo baby", nine-week-old Azana Chamberlain, who disappeared from a camp site at Ayers Rock in Australia in 1980. Her mother Lindy was convicted of her murder and sentenced to life imprisonment with hard labour. Lindy's husband Michael was sentenced to 18 months as an accessory. But last September both the Chamberlains were exonerated, and their horrifying story - that Azaria had been eaten by a dingo - accepted.

"I'd heard about the case, filed it away in my mind as another bizarre murder story and not much else," says Verity. "I assumed there had probably been some kind of hanky-panky on the part of the Chamberlains, but four years ago at the Cannes festival I heard about a book, Evil Angels, by John Bryson. After reading it, I believed there had been a modern witch hunt. It was very frightening. One of the messages in the film is that this could happen to anyone if they arc in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"There are many scapegoats in the story, but we don't single out any one in particular. The police were over-zealous because there was pressure on them to son it out quickly. There was the fact that it happened at Ayers Rock, where a multi-million-dollar complex of hotels was about to be built. I'm not implying that people said, 'We've got to find a murderer', but there II was a subconscious feeling that it would be better if there weren't animals in the middle of the desert that ate children. Many people still believe that dingoes are lovely puppies. They forget there are no cans of dog food lying around the desert and so they have to eat live animals to survive. To a dingo, a baby is no different from a rabbit.

"Another aspect is that ordinary people - and I include myself here - need titillation. There's a desire to find evil in things, which is often exploited by the press. I think Lindy was tried by the press, but the public gets the newspapers it deserves. In the West we live in a media-driven society. We form opinions from newspapers, from how things are presented to us on television, and we make judgments on people perhaps 30 seconds after meeting them, depending on how they present themselves. It's wrong, but it's part of living in this society."

Verity Lambert and director Fred Schepisi knew exactly who would be perfect to play Lindy Chamberlain. "It is so rare that you get your first choice when casting," says Verity, "but I sensed that the project would appeal to Meryl Streep, and it did."

Raising the $15 million needed to make the film was relatively easy, she claims, as soon as Meryl had shown interest. "I didn't know her, but I thought she would be right, so I sent her the book. She replied that she found it very troubling and - what was the word she used? 'affecting'. I think she gives one of her best performances."

Meryl then met Lindy in 1988 while researching her role. She said at the time: "Lindy walked in the door to meet me, and I looked into her eyes. She gave me the inspiration, the fuel to do the pan," remembers Meryl. "It was much more than emotional, it was galvanising. She filled up the room with her spirit and her fortitude and the fact that she refused to be destroyed."

Filming had its problems: "Logistically it was difficult because we filmed in Melbourne, Darwin, Alice Springs and Ayers Rock," says Verity. "Each journey was like going from New York to Los Angeles, and we had to take 100 people. Plus, we couldn't get to Ayers Rock until early December, when the temperature was about 114 degrees. I don't mind the heat - I'm olive-skinned but it was as if all the liquid was being sucked from your body.

"I followed the filming through from beginning to end as a 'line' producer, but I don't think I'll do that sort of thing again. What I have to offer is not beat used by worrying if the caterers are giving the crew a decent meal. I'm better at setting things up, getting the right combination of people and script and leaving day-to-day organisation to others. I'm mentally lazy and need to be stimulated by now challenges."

She has been restless most of her life, ever since Roedean, an experience she found disagreeable. "I resented being amity from home and felt rejected although my parents were doing their best. After I left, at 16, I was difficult and took it out on them. The)y were authoritarian figures who hadn't been there when I wanted their support. If you're at boarding school for nine months of the year, you have to learn to fend for yourself. But I don't harbour a deep resentment. When I grew up at about 24 - we had a different relationship and I could see the sacrifices they made (or me."

For a year she studied at the Sorbonne in Paris. then she returned to do a secretarial course for 18 months (it should have taken three, but she wasn't terribly keen), typed menus at a London hotel, and then became a secretary with Granada Television - "terribly boring, with nothing to make me want to go to work in the morning" - from which she was sacked, much to her subsequent good fortune. Efficient secretaries, she feels, remain efficient secretaries, always. Mother was horrified, although supportive, and nearly had her wishes fulfilled when, at 20, Verity almost succumbed to marriage with an eligible doctor.

"My mother believed it was the function of women to get married and have children. I don't think I consciously rebelled, but some grain of commonsense told me that I wasn't ready to settle down at that point, and I'm glad I didn't. I might have been a dissatisfied housewife in Bromley on my third marriage by now. I don't think I was cut out to be only a housewife - no, that sounds terrible. I mean that with my temperament I would not have been satisfied running a home, which is terribly hard work, and having children, which is also hard work. It wouldn't have been enough for me. I'm not particularly domestic. I love cooking, but nothing else - like cleaning, washing-up, sewing."

After this narrow escape, she became a production assistant with a commercial television company in England, and then spent 18 months in New York working for David Susskind, an independent producer. On returning to London in 1963 she had her first big break at 27, being hired as the BBC's youngest producer to take charge of a new series, Dr Who, which was then expected to last for only a year, but hung on interminably, even without Verity.

"When I first became a producer I was looked at askance, and there was a certain amount of metaphorical head-parting, which I resented," she says. "I learned to get my own way without direct confrontation - it's best not to put someone on the defensive, particularly a man. I don't know whether that's using feminine wiles, or being sensible. There was an unspoken, Pavlovian prejudice against women of my generation [she is 53] because we were conditioned at a time when men did the work and women stayed at home. It's hard to define because the attitude is so often subconscious. Men pay a lot of lip service to not being chauvinist, but in the end it is often just that - lip service."

She found this was particularly the case during her £100,000-a-year job with EMI, which ended in 1985. "I don't really know what happened. I suppose I'd been spoilt, working in television for such a long time with people who respected me. I can't say I enjoyed it that much because I didn't have the autonomy to put my ideas into practice. I made a couple of films I'm proud of - Dreamchild and Clockwise, and I have a sneaking affection for Morons From Outer Space - but decisions were made by committee. I've always used my own instincts, and I realise now that I shouldn't go against them.

"Of course, when you're successful, the jackals in some newspapers sit around trying to find out something unpleasant about you. They have a file on everyone who does well. It's frightening. I can only say that if they print mine, I hope it is so libellous that I make a great deal of money out of it."

There is probably not much to discover. She was married for 11 years, until it broke up in 1984, to film director Colin Bucksey who was 10 years her junior. "I was upset and angered by a gossip column item that implied that because I was alone, I must be unhappy. My marriage didn't founder on my success, but I have an all-consuming job and if I had another relationship I would have to organise my life. If you're putting most energy into work, you're probably not putting enough into a relationship. I suspect that success is a turn-off to some men."

She decided she didn't want children. "In my thirties, when I got around to thinking, 'I could have a child now', I decided I really couldn't take on that responsibility. Mother always said you should have children so you have something in your old age. Perhaps when I'm 70 I'll regret not having any. As I don't have any brothers or sisters, I'm the end of the line.

"But I'm lucky. I've had a pretty good life and work at a job which is fun. I'm fortunate in that, whatever you may think about the films I've made, I have never done anything that I haven't been committed to. And I think films can change people's attitudes. I'm not someone who looks back and says, 'If only.' It's a waste of time."

"A Cry In The Dark" opens nationwide on 26 May.

Captions:

MEDIA PREY The Chamberlains' fight to prove thew Innocence became a cause calibre

Cleared: the Chamberlains were exonerated after the first inquest when they produced snapshots to counter accusations that Azaria was abnormal

ON LOCATION Family togetherness in the shadow of Ayers Rock (far right). Lindy Chamberlain (Meryl Streep) bathes her ill-fated baby hours before us disappearance (right). Michael Chamberlain's (Sam Neill) unemotional articulacy m TV interviews provoked suspicion and accusations (above)

Dingo Baby Case

History

17 August 1980 Nine-week-old Azaria Chamberlain disappears from the tent in which her two older brothers, Alden and Reagan, arc sleeping, at a camp site near Ayers Rock in Australia. Lindy and Michael Chamberlain, the Seventh Day Adventist parents of Azaria, are mined by other campers in a fruitless search for the baby and the dingo that Lindy tells police she saw at the mouth of the tent

8.30i that evening Dingo tracks are discovered near the tents.

19 August 1980 Aboriginal trackers pick up a trail of an animal to the south of the camp site.

24 August 1980 Azaria's bloody jumpsuit, nappy, singlet and booties are found In a crevice at the base of Ayers Rock.

February 2 1981 A coroner's inquest into Azaria's death clears the Chamberlains of any guilt But suspicion has been fuelled by Lindy and Michael's passive acceptance of their loss, religious prejudice, nationwide gossip and a bloodthirsty press.

February 1982 Forensic evidence, appearing to prove that Azaria was killed by humans, forms the basis of a second inquest which overthrows the findings of the first, and commits Lindy and Michael to trial she for murder. he as an accessory.

12 September 1982 The case goes to trial and, after seven weeks, Lindy t who IS seven months pregnant) is found guilty and sentenced to life imprisonment with hard labour. Michael is also found guilty and is given an 18-month suspended sentence in order to raise the children.

11 November 1982 Kahlia, Lindy's daughter, is born but is taken away from her 45 minutes after the birth. She is to spend the first three years of her life with her father and brothers at weekends, but with a foster family during the week.

9 February 1986 The body of English climber David Brett is found, partially decomposed and eaten by dingoes, at the base of Ayers Rock. Police searching for him also discover the matinee jacket Lindy always maintained Anna was wearing on the night she was killed.

9 February 1986 The discovery of the matinee jacket means it and be proved that Lindy was convicted on insufficient evidence. She is released.

10 February 1986 Lindy is reunited with her family after 32 months' prison.

3 June 1967 Lindy is pardoned.

15 September 1968 Lindy and Michael's names are finally cleared.

Death at the Rock

Navigation menu

Page actions

Page actions

Personal tools

Navigation

Search

External links

Tools