We hereby declare Murray Hewitt - the alter ego of Rhys Darby - the TimeOut New Zealander of the year for his tireless efforts at getting a small New Zealand band into the big time. Rebecca Barry catches up with him backstage to reveal the good news
KEY POINTS:
He's the most successful band manager in the world.
In the room.
Well he's definitely in the top three.
Murray Hewitt has taken Wellington's Flight of the Conchords from obscurity to legend. He arranged the band's New York gazebo tour, won the duo a coveted spot in a novelty music magazine and signed them to a major record label. (The label turned out to be fake but he drove a hard bargain nonetheless.)
Never mind that his alter ego Rhys Darby is now filming a movie with Jim Carrey, TimeOut is pleased to name Murray as our New Zealander of the Year.
The award recognises his services to entertainment as the star of the HBO series with Conchords Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement.
"Wow, that's awesome, thank you," he says. "I'd like to thank Bret and Jemaine for giving me the job. And that's it really."
Not one to rest on his laurels, Murray has big plans to arrange another Conchords gig, this time on a float.
"I've always looked up to those blokes who wave on the floats as they come past. It doesn't have to be Christmas, it could be Thanksgiving or whatever other festivals there are. A balloon festival, anything. It doesn't have to pertain to a festival, it could be any festival, as long as they're on the float, playing. I reckon people would be like, `Oh wow, look at those guys."'
The award also acknowledges Murray's outstanding achievements in the management industry, which he plans to honour by passing on his expertise.
"If young kids have aspirations to be a manager and get a job like mine which is quite hip, maybe I'll hold night classes," he says. "In America. So you'd have to get yourself over there. We could probably do it at the consulate actually."
We're backstage at the Waiheke Theatre, where the TV star's 20-strong entourage are running around after him, satiating his every whim.
Actually they're not really his entourage, and there's only two of them, but they're preparing bread and dips and putting out plastic chairs. Fans who missed out on tickets are being turned away at the door.
I spent three years in the army before I realised I was more the actor playing a soldier. I liked running around in all the gear, but I think if I got dropped in an actual war zone I would have sucked. Rhys Darby
It's fair to say it's Murray who has drawn many in the audience here _ the "Murray Factor", he calls it _ but tonight the name on the bill is Darby's. He is taller than Murray (who, to be fair, is often filmed behind a desk or standing next to Jemaine) but sounds just like him. He is wearing a leather jacket which makes him look almost as cool.
This is one of three sold-out gigs Darby will perform this week during a trip home from the US. Two are at the Classic but tonight's is a special performance to help fundraise for a Waiheke creche. The gigs are also warm-ups for a stand-up tour of the US, to be filmed and released on DVD.
"I've been doing stand-up 10 years and I've been doing okay but it's not until you do something on TV, people wake up and go, `Who is this guy?"'
But not even the Murray Factor can guarantee an incident-free show. As he gives TimeOut the glamorous backstage tour, pointing out the vacuum cleaner, the broom and the big red bucket, it's soon apparent why there are two intervals tonight _ and a big red bucket. He spent this morning with his head in the toilet, suffering a severe tummy bug.
Then his roadie pops his head around the corner.
"Um, the PA's f***ed. We've got no mic."
"Okay, we'll do without a mic, that's fine," says Darby, then adds under his breath, "It just won't be a very good show."
Just as this starts to feel like an episode of FOTC, the equipment comes right. Even as the camo-wearing park ranger Bill Napier, the first of several characters he'll play tonight, he gets big laughs.
Then the real Darby takes the stage.
"It's always been my dream to play the Waiheke Theatre," he says, before doing what he does best: his infamous robot dance, manic T-Rex impression and a range of convincing sound effects. "Thanks for the applause when I did the helicopter there."
Later he morphs into adolescent Darby on an underage trip to a nightclub, stroking a barely-there goatie and chatting in a fake baritone, then letting out a high-pitched, "Guys! Guuuys! We're in!" the minute the bouncer gives him the all-clear. He takes his frail grandfather to see a 3D film, complete with re-enactment of the special effects via flailing arms and googly eyes. He goes back to his military days, skulking through the bush at night _ cold, lost and terrified, whimpering for help until he realises he's smack bang in the middle of base camp. It's not hard to see why that career was bypassed for one on stage.
"I spent three years in the army before I realised I was more the actor playing a soldier," he explains. "I liked all the running around in the bush in all the gear, but I think if I got dropped in an actual war zone I would have sucked."
Darby performed his first solo show at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in 2002, then he and wife Rosie moved to London where he worked the European comedy circuit for four years, hooking up with Clement and McKenzie when they moved to Europe in 2004.
Murray Hewitt began life as Bryan Nesbitt, the band manager on the Flight of the Conchords' BBC radio show. When HBO picked up the show, they changed his name, concerned the BBC might take ownership.
"I always say it's his cousin."
HBO also changed the format from a mockumentary to a sitcom.
"I wanted to keep Murray real. The only thing OTT is that 1970s look _ the office, posters. Everything else about him is very subtle, his clothing is very beige, earth colours.
"It's all about the ginger. Initially they wanted a full beard so I looked older than them but I told them I couldn't really grow it properly."
He says the network were hands-off, allowing them to improvise, like the time Murray told Jemaine and Bret off for arguing in front of the New Zealand map, and when he insisted their new bongo player, Todd, was the "pied piper of cool".
"Bret just instantly goes, `The pied piper isn't cool. He led all those children into the cave.'
"And then I go, `No, before that phase, when it was just the rats.' We managed to hold our poise and not laugh."
Another scene where Murray is holding up DIY photos had them in stitches for an hour.
They weren't the only ones laughing. Peyton Reed, the director of the Jim Carrey-helmed comedy Yes, Man, became a rabid Murray fan and wanted to put a nerdier version of the character in the film. Darby plays Carrey's gadget-crazed boss. He'll finish the remaining scenes in Los Angeles in January.
"You do 20 takes in movies. I wasn't used to doing so many. They kept coming up to me with the scripts: `It's going there, not being there.' Alright, settle down!"
"I'm still at the phase where I'm trying to ignore the cameras. I thought that's what you do when you act because you've got the crew, lights, extras. It's so daunting. One day I nearly lost it. I looked and realised all that shit was there in the middle of a Jim Carrey movie and I'm not getting the lines right. I nearly cried."
When the film wraps and the writers' strike ends, Darby will start work on the second series of Conchords, in which we can expect to uncover more of Murray's back-story, the romantic turmoil that led him to become a NZ cultural attache _ and part-time band manager _ in New York. For now, though, he's happy to play the Hollywood star.
"My stand-ups have always been a means to an end. I always had the dream to end up acting in Hollywood. I thought I'd either go through drama school or be a comedian. If you're good enough, the doors just open. That's what happened to me."
LOWDOWN
Who: Murray Hewitt (played by Rhys Darby)
What: TimeOut New Zealander of the Year
Why: For services to entertainment as the outstanding manager of Flight of the Conchords, returning to Prime in 2008 and out on DVD on February 13.
MEMORABLE MURRAY MOMENTS FROM FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS
Murray: When you're in a band, you don't get with your bandmate's girlfriend, past or present ... You get a love triangle, you know, a Fleetwood Mac situation. Although there were four of them, so more of a love square.
Jemaine: Okay, I see.
Murray: Mind you, they did make some of their best music back then.
Bret: Rumours?
Murray: No, it's all true.
Murray: I feel so angry I could swear!
Bret: You wouldn't swear at us, Murray.
Murray: Go f*** yourself, Bret!
Murray: Anything could happen to you at night. You could get run over, pick-pocketed, fall down a man-hole, bump into people. You could be murdered, imagine that! Or even just ridiculed.
Jemaine: Murray, we need some money.
Murray: Oh okay, how much? We've got about $4 in here.
Jemaine: $4? I thought we had $10.
Murray: This box cost $6.
Bret: What was wrong with the bag?
Murray: The bag was useless, Bret! It had a great big hole in it. We must've lost about $20 out of that bag!
Murray: Sometimes when I'm driving by myself at night I like to pretend this is a bus. Silly isn't it?
Bret: No, it's quite cool actually.
Murray: Yeah I thought you'd like that, Bret.
