The Queen of Entertainment
North Shore Living shines the spotlight on Mosman local Angela Bishop as she reflects on Studio 10, her family, and 30 years spent reporting on the entertainment industry.
What keeps you passionate about the arts and entertainment industry after all this time?
The arts really has the power to make change, not just to entertain. In times of trauma, in times when we are down, the arts is everything. It’s our escape. Music helps you feel better, or a movie will take you away from everything for two hours into another world. So, to delve into that world I think is so important to people.
You come from a political family with your mother, Bronwyn, the local member for almost 30 years and your father, Alan, a judge and Sydney councillor. Did you ever consider pursuing politics?
Growing up in that house was actually part of the reason I wanted to be a journalist. Because I was so aware of everything from a very young age, just by osmosis. It sounded so fascinating, so interesting and intriguing – the inner-workings [of politics].
I had two examples of people with an incredible work ethic. And at the same time though, they juggled it well which I hope I’m able to emulate.
Definitely the ‘head down, bum up approach’ comes from them. No doubt about it.
You started as a cadet with Channel 10 and have been there ever since. When was the moment you realised you wanted to be an entertainment reporter?
I worked on Alan Jones Live, a short-lived current affairs program on Channel 10, and I was sent over to New York for my first ever junket. It was to interview Ron Howard, Michael Keaton, Glenn Close and Robert Duvall for a movie called The Paper.
I was told, in no uncertain terms, “You get a kickass promo when you’re over there.”
I felt bold enough to ask Robert Duvall at the end of the interview if he would do a promo down the barrel [of the camera] for us.
I said, “This is going to sound weird, but could you say, ‘Hi, I’m Robert Duvall and I love the smell of napalm in the morning, but I love the sound of Alan Jones in the evening” – a version of his famous line from Apocalyse Now.
So, he lines it up, goes seriously down the barrel and says, “Hi, I’m Robert Duvall and I love the smell of napalm in the morning, and I love the smell of Alan Jones in the evening.”
We laughed, he redid the promo and they [Channel 10] were happy.
Since that point, you’ve talked to everyone from George Clooney to Bono, Audrey Hepburn to Princess Diana. What have been some stand out interviews or celebrity interactions for you?
Diana without a doubt. She had decided to go to Royal Ryde Rehabilitation Hospital and that’s where three journalists got to speak to her.
That centre, which is still there doing great work, got these massive donations as a result of her turning up. That’s the power she had.
To watch that, and to watch the faces of the people she stopped and talked to, she changed their lives. That moment they’ll hold in their hearts forever, particularly given what happened not long after.
Since 2018 you’ve been the co-host of Studio 10, but you’ve been a regular on the show for many years. What’s it like being on a such a long-standing show with such a faithful viewership?
Our loyal audience members really are diehards. They’re beautiful people. We meet them out and around sometimes, and they reach out on social media and tell us what’s going on in their lives.
When I lost my husband, I had viewers reach out to me who’d also lost their partner to cancer and had similar experiences. That’s an enormous privilege, to have a stranger reaching out to you and sharing their story.
The cast and crew are also so close – it’s incredible. After losing Pete [husband Peter Baikie], to be able to feel like I could come back to work and be in a safe environment and know that, if I needed, I had arms around me.
You’ve been passionate about advocating for better female representation in the entertainment industry. Do you think we’ve seen any improvements in Hollywood?
It’s gradual. A few years ago, at the Oscars, I looked at the best picture nominees and I think it was Ford v. Ferrari, Joker, 1917… They were all stories about men starring men except for Little Women, which has been remade how many times?
Greta Gerwig did a great job, don’t get me wrong, but surely there are other stories out there that can be told.
Then, I saw Nomad Land a minute later win best director for a woman with a great female protagonist story. Now, this year, we had Australian female cinematographer Ari Wegner nominated and Jane Campion take out best director.
For me, it’s about picking out the bits where changes have been made, gripping on to them, doing stories about them and amplifying them in the hope that more will happen.
You’re mother to the vivacious Amelia [14]. What is happening with her nowadays?
She loves drama and music – they’re her passions. She’s also very good at maths, which is something she would only have got from her dad [laughs].
She’s hilarious. I think that’s her greatest gift. She’s very, very funny in a disarming way.
And she’s so resilient. She’s been through so much for someone so young that no one should have to go through. Pete was super proud of her. She’s a spectacular human.
I know Peter is still a massive part of yours and Amelia’s everyday lives. How do you keep him close?
He had certain phrases that were very him we use. His favourite word was ‘salubrious’ and if Amelia and I’d be sitting here looking at this view, we’d go, ‘How salubrious!’ [laughs].
We’re still passionate about his vintage cars. We’ve still got the old 1958 Chrysler Imperial and while we didn’t keep the motorcycles, we have lots of fantastic memories of riding motorbikes with him.
And bushwalks. We did our bushwalks as a family, and the fact that Amelia and I still go on those bushwalks around Mosman, we’re always reminded of Pete.
Whenever we see a kookaburra, we kind of think he’s with us. Kookaburras you don’t often see on their own but for some reason, often when we’re on a walk, we’ll see a single kookaburra. We’ve just got a feeling that that’s Pete popping in to say, ‘G’day’.
