“Good evening, and welcome to television,” advertising executive Bruce Gyngell said, introducing the first mainstream broadcast to Australia in 1956. And like the British-tinged accent he spoke in, that grainy footage is almost unrecognisable from what we know today: the form has evolved to colour, to digital, to streaming. We’ve seen the introduction of 24-hour news channels and reality TV, and most recently, a surge in award-winning stories reflecting the true diversity and history of the country.
This month, we’re celebrating the unforgettable moments of Australian TV history – from drama, comedy and daytime television, to news, sport and reality programs.
We’ll launch a poll of the top 50 next week, but first we need your nominations: what was the scene or moment that was most important to you, most defining for the country, or most seared into your memory? We’re not looking for entire broadcasts, seasons or episodes, but the moments that happened within them.
To help get you started, we asked Guardian staffers to nominate theirs. Please add yours to the comments below, tweet it at us using the #UnforgettableAusTV hashtag, or email us at UnforgettableAusTV@theguardian.com
Lou’s death on Love My Way
It was the worst thing imaginable and it happened out of the blue on a normal, happy day. Like things do sometimes. Lou’s death in episode eight of Love My Way, scooting through the park one second, lifeless on the grass the next – and the reaction of Frankie, her mum, played by Claudia Karvan – was the perfect portrayal of overwhelming grief. It got the disbelief and confusion of it, and then the visceral pain of it, deep in the gut; it got the way time warps so that anything but overwhelming sadness is an intrusion on the present, far less welcome or fathomable than memories of the past.
It wasn’t saccharine or overdone, but it didn’t flinch either. It felt real. Too real. I didn’t need to rewatch it to write this. – Lenore Taylor
Julia Gillard’s misogyny speech
I was 23 and living in Brisbane when I first saw Julia Gillard thunder “I will not be lectured by this man” on the news. Truly, something in me changed. At the time, many in the press gallery didn’t grasp what a moment it was, and I still see the speech dismissed all the time. For some people, Gillard can’t be a woman who had some bad policies and also experienced visceral sexism and grief – she has to be perfect to be angry, or to fight against sexism.
I don’t require anyone in my normal life to be perfect, and I’m not so deluded to think that any politician is – but for months I used to watch the speech on repeat before I went to sleep. My politics did not go along any party’s lines at the time, and they still don’t – but that moment sparked something in me: my first realisation that not only was it OK to be angry, but that there was reason to be. – Bridie Jabour
John Aloisi’s World Cup-qualifying goal
When John Aloisi slotted his famous penalty against Uruguay in 2005, my friend’s dad, a long-suffering fan of Australian football, burst into tears. “I’ve waited 30 years for this,” he said. My friends and I had stood in anxious embrace before the TV as Aloisi readied himself for what was, without doubt, the single most important kick in Australian footballing history. His penalty took a nation of footballing minnows to the World Cup for the first time since 1974, transforming the sport and gifting Australia one of its truly great sporting moments.
The memory of the ball hitting the back of the net – and the pandemonium that followed – still gives me goosebumps. It was pure, unbridled joy. – Christopher Knaus
Anita and Drazic’s break-up on Heartbreak High
This scene on Heartbreak High would have to be one of the most formative TV moments of my teen years. It wasn’t just that he was an unequivocal heartthrob; sure, he might have wronged her, but couldn’t she see that she was the only thing holding him together?!
At least, that’s what I thought at the time. The older, wiser woman I later became eventually saw that moment for what it was: a thoughtless boy avoiding taking responsibility for his own problems, and a young woman who wasn’t going to be his crutch any more. – Stephanie Convery
Bangkok Hilton’s final scene
Even thinking about the conclusion of beloved 1989 miniseries Bangkok Hilton brings salty residue to my eyes. Katrina (Nicole Kidman), having escaped a death sentence, hurries through a Thai airport with a fake passport, assisted by the person who designed her escape plan: Hal Stanton (Denholm Elliott).
Katrina doesn’t know that Hal is her long-lost father. When an airport guard grills them at the last minute, in a scene so intense I chewed my knuckles off the first time I watched it, Hal let’s it slip in the spur of the moment (“I’m her father!”). Both characters recognise the significance of the moment but don’t have time to talk about it; the weight of the scene exists in their eyes and body language.
Discovering this show motivated me to go searching through other shows from the era, leading me to many classics – including Brides of Christ, The Dismissal, A Town Like Alice, Bodyline and Blue Murder. – Luke Buckmaster
Merlin’s protest on Big Brother
There were a number of memorable moments from Australia’s Big Brother, but the image seared into my memory is of fourth season contestant Merlin Luck, jumping from the eviction car, rallying the crowd and then shushing it, before whipping out duct tape and a sign whose E had fallen off: “Free Th Refugees”.
In 2004 John Howard was prime minister, there were more than 1,000 children being held in Australian detention centres, and I was earnest, political and thrilled as each long second of Luck’s silent protest ticked over. He had entered the house with the sign and duct tape sewn into the T-shirt he ripped it out of on eviction night; Gretel Killeen tried to get him to discuss the issue, but he decided staying silent was more powerful. He may have been right. The show got the best ratings of the season that night, made headlines the next day – and Luck spent the next 12 months campaigning. – Steph Harmon
Nakkiah Lui and Miranda Tapsell on Get Krackin’
Watching Nakkiah Lui and Miranda Tapsell rip up the Get Krackin’ set was one of the most powerful and nourishing things I’ve seen on TV. Two young black women gloriously, righteously losing their shit in an exhilarating rant that was like watching a dam wall burst and enjoying the flood.
And the words! Targeted strikes. “Don’t ever ask for anything. Say sorry all the time. Order cupcakes for the crew so they like you. Be bright, be breezy. Don’t make a white lady cry.” The scene was only a few minutes, but they managed to list all the workplace micro-aggressions black women face, making us cry and laugh with recognition, with perfect comic timing. – Lorena Allam
The Checkout on Returns and Exchanges
They may not be accurate, but consuming endless police and legal procedurals gives viewers a vague idea of how the justice system operates. And yet it wasn’t until Julian Morrow stood in front of a crime scene in The Checkout – the ABC show which was cancelled in 2018 – that I realised how my rights under consumer law worked.
In the five minutes which open the show’s third episode, I learned that “no refunds or exchanges” signs weren’t binding; that you could return something faulty years after you’d purchased it, and that as long as you can prove your purchase, you don’t need receipts or original packaging – even from second-hand stores. Not all of us will be arrested, but we all have to buy stuff, so knowing these laws matters. It didn’t make me weep or scream, but no moment of television has ever been more helpful for my day-to-day life. – Alyx Gorman
Molly’s death on A Country Practice
A Country Practice was appointment viewing for my family – we never missed an episode. But on this particular night in 1985, the TV was dead. Nothing but a blank screen.
We knew something would happen this episode: Molly, the quirky farmer with a pet wombat called Fatso, had leukaemia. I was six and still believed in miracles – but what would happen to her? My mum made some calls, and announced we were jumping in the car to watch the fated episode at my cousins’ house. The cousins who teased me relentlessly. I could not cry in front of them.
But as Molly watched her husband, nurse Brendan, fly a kite with their daughter Chloe, and the screen faded to black, I was inconsolable: it was my first experience of death and I couldn’t bear it. Molly had become a part of us, a friend, a loved one. How could she just die? The only way mum could calm me down enough to sleep was to promise to ring the head of Channel 7 and make them bring Molly back to life. I never believed in miracles again. – Gabrielle Jackson
What was the moment or scene from Australian TV that you’ll remember forever? Join us in the comments, join the #UnforgettableAusTV hashtag on Twitter, or email us at UnforgettableAusTV@theguardian.com. Nominations are open until 5pm Monday 20 January AEST.
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