Larry Emdur knew he was going to have a big year. In February, he danced with his daughter, Tia, at her wedding. In March, he wrote a bucket list ahead of his 60th birthday in December, when he’ll also celebrate a milestone wedding anniversary with Sylvie. Then something wholly unexpected happened. After 40 years of – in his words – “being a goose on the television”, Larry was nominated for a TV WEEK Gold Logie.
The award, handed out on August 18, is bestowed on the year’s most popular TV personality as decided by viewers. It can go to an actor, like Asher Keddie, who won in 2013 and is nominated again this year, or a host like Andy Lee or Sonia Kruger – the defending champion, to use game show parlance. Larry has been on TV since the ’80s but this is the first time he’s been up for the Gold, and his response reveals exactly why he’s such a likeable guy.
“As soon as it was announced, I said straight away to Sylvie, I feel like I’ve got imposter syndrome,” Larry says. “’Cos, these people are prime time. They’re big shows. They’re top-rating shows. I just feel very privileged to be in that crew.”
Rounding out the contenders are Julia Morris, who Larry has “loved for the longest time”, Tony Armstrong, “the future of broadcasting”, and Robert Irwin. “I love his agenda. I’m so excited to see how he’s going to use that energy of his,” Larry says of Robert who, incidentally, is his pick for the gong. He would be happy, he says, to lose to the ardent young conservationist. “If he can win a Logie and change the world, I think that’s good, because I’m going to win a Logie and just get drunk,” Larry says, laughing.
Chatting to the affable presenter, it’s hard to imagine him feeling anything but confident and comfortable. Larry’s ease in front of a camera – and more importantly his ability to put others at ease – is part of the reason he’s been an enduring fixture on our screens. As a host, he is uniquely warm. When he’s on camera, it’s not about him. He’s there to draw a story out of a guest, or make a contestant feel comfortable.
His CV speaks of someone who is hardworking but not hungry for fame. Before signing on for what turned out to be a 17-years-andcounting stint on The Morning Show, he was best known for The Price is Right. In the ’90s, he seemed to be perennially giving away cars and money. His cameo on The Castle, when Tracey Kerrigan vies for the showcase, reflects his status as a staple of Australian TV.
Larry insists this is mostly a perception born of episode repeats, and that he’s had more downs than ups in a business that is notoriously fickle. He likes to call himself the most axed man on Australian television and has built a sideline in corporate speaking. Together with Sylvie, he’s also invested in property to buffer his family against the vagaries of a ruthless industry.
“I worked out early on that you can’t rely on these guys,” he says. “I love it and there’s nothing else in the world I want to do. But they could call me today and say, ‘There’s some young, handsome guy coming in with great hair who’s going to replace you on The Morning Show’.
“Price is Right was on for four or five years, then they axed me, axed the show, then they ran it for a couple of years on repeats. After that it came back for three years and then they ran that for a couple of years on repeats. There was like this in perpetuity thing where I wasn’t there, but I was.”
For a while, Larry was hosting Wheel of Fortune on Seven while Price was on rival network Nine. “So, there’s just this concept that I’ve always been on,” he says.
Sylvie is more frank on the question of the Gold. “I was pleasantly surprised, however, quietly on the inside, I was like: Oh, about time.” She laughs. “Forty years in any job – let alone somewhere where you’re on show 24/7 – it’s a long time. I think a little bit of recognition is nice is any career.” She looks at her husband with a mix of love and gentle reproval. “You’re an old man,” she says, making him laugh. “I thought, yeah, he’s a lovely guy, he deserves something lovely.”
Sylvie and Larry frequently tease and touch each other’s hands during their conversation with The Weekly. Their beagle, Jazzy, pads around the room, perhaps hoping for a morsel of the cake they’ve put out. Sylvie says she usually watches the end of The Chase Australia before the news, and sometimes tunes in to watch Larry on with Kylie Gillies in the morning.
“If it’s my washing or cleaning day, I’ll turn on The Morning Show in the background for a little noise,” she says, drawing mock outrage from Larry. The couple celebrate their 30th wedding anniversary in December. “Can you believe it? He put up with me for that long. Thirty years,” says Sylvie. “That’s like three murder sentences. Don’t you get seven to 10 for murder?”
Larry and Sylvie had a Hollywood-grade meet-cute. He was due to fly to Melbourne on a stormy day when Qantas cancelled his flight. Larry was hosting a live TV show that evening, so he bolted through the downpour to the Ansett terminal, getting thoroughly soaked in the process. When he finally got to his seat, he was “dripping, shaggy-dog wet”. He looked up, and “the most beautiful girl I had ever seen came out of the galley”. Sylvie was working as a flight attendant. According to Larry, she told him he looked terrible, and they had a laugh.
They continued to chat, flirt and laugh between the food service. When they landed, Sylvie had to catch a connecting flight. Larry couldn’t let her get away, so he gave Sylvie both his and his mum’s phone numbers. In response, Sylvie gave Larry her mum’s number and said that if he got past her, he could take her out for coffee.
“I was looking at Sylvie, going, ‘That’s it – love and lust at first sight’. But I doubt this was Sylvie’s view,” he laughs.
“For me, it was after our first date,” Sylvie says. “Our first date was 11 hours long. My flatmate tried to report me missing. Literally, she called the police. He just wouldn’t let me go.”
The coffee date turned into lunch which turned into a movie that became dinner. “We’re still fighting over what the movie was,” Sylvie says.
“I was in that mode where I was just agreeing with everything,” says Larry.
“Thirty years later, he’s still agreeing. This is why it’s working,” Sylvie adds.
When Larry finally dropped Sylvie home, she sat on the couch and told her housemate she had met the man she was going to marry. “It was a joke but here we are,” she says.
“I was adorable,” Larry confirms.
Within the year, Sylvie was pregnant. It was a heady time. Larry was on The Price is Right. The ’90s iteration of the format was super high-energy, involving ecstatic contestants who were invited to “come on down” as lights flashed and zippy, boppy game music played them onto the stage. If they got past the first round and were selected to compete for more prizes, they’d inevitably leap all over Larry, hugging and sometimes kissing him.
Larry let the excited contestants accost him with bottomless good humour. He shared their joy, and the viewers loved him for it. When Larry and Sylvie’s son, Jye, was born in 1994, Larry walked him onto the stage to the coos of the adoring audience.
“From a work perspective I was in my prime,” Larry says. “I had a job. We had money. We were comfortable … but I’d been doing it long enough before Sylvie came along to know that it doesn’t last.”
They rode the wave until Larry’s prediction that the golden days wouldn’t last came true. “It doesn’t happen overnight. You’re winning, you’re winning, you’re winning – and then Channel 7 puts up something fantastic and then you’re sliding down, sliding down … There’s pressure on. People are saying, ‘Come on, Larry’.
“That pre-news timeslot is pivotal and … there’s all eyes on you. As a young guy, who would have been taking all that quite personally, I think there was probably almost relief [when Price was axed] because I can’t do anything else. I can’t be zanier. I can’t give away more money because that’s not my charter. I can’t be dry-humped by any more truckies on the studio floor. So, I’ve done everything that I can do, but the show’s maybe had its moment, so get me out of here because I don’t want to be responsible.”
When the show ended, Larry, Sylvie and Jye went to Los Angeles for a break. They had hoped to stay a year, but just as they were leaving, they found out Sylvie was pregnant again.
In LA Larry did a little work for Australian TV. He took a screenwriting course and penned a script for a film that has come close to being made a few times. But film, like TV, is notoriously tough to crack. The Emdurs came home in time for daughter Tia to be born. They’d hoped to take other sabbaticals. Tuscany is top of the list, but Larry has remained stubbornly employed ever since.
It hasn’t always been smooth but Larry understands it wasn’t personal when he was fired. In Australia the talent pool is too small for big egos. “If you’re making enemies in this industry you’re an idiot,” he says. “I’ve been axed by people on Channel 7 who have then gone on to employ me on Channel 9, and round and round we go.” He knows how to perform and be professionally positive.
“I’ve got this little bubble theory. I go, ‘This is the studio door and once I go through that studio door, nothing else can really matter’. Particularly with live TV, there’s no second chances there. Once I go through that door I’ve got to be on.”
And he’s not in it alone.
“When I come home, it’s just us. That’s the most important thing to me – our relationship and the strength of that. Coming home and hugging Sylvie – anything that’s happened during the day is flushed away. Sometimes I’ll do The Morning Show then I’ll go straight to do The Chase, so I’m on from 8.30 in the morning to 10 o’clock at night, and when I come home, I can cuddle Sylvie and that’s it.”
“And we spend more time together than the average couple,” Sylvie adds, because there are other days when “Larz” comes home at lunchtime and says, “‘What are you doing? What’s for lunch? What’s happening?’” She laughs again. “‘Can’t you get a real job?’” she retorts. “‘You’re home too early! I’m having a girly lunch’. So yeah, we do spend a lot of time together.”
For a while, The Chase – which Larry took over in 2021 – was a source of anxiety. “The Chase for me is frightening, actually,” says Larry. “If you know anything about me, you know I’m a high-school dropout and pretty stupid. I failed everything and have an attention span of about four.
“So I’m anxious about the questions and what’s coming up – whether it’s a Latin word or a Japanese word or a Harry Potter made-up word. There’s a huge difference between a game show and a quiz show. It’s a different mode.”
When he was offered the job he initially said no. “Because I’m this happy, silly, flippant guy. That’s me. As for the serious academic side, I don’t have much in that department. But they convinced me, and I was happy to be convinced. We thought, one more hit out before I finish – because I’m getting older now – and it’s worked beautifully.
“But there was a time, in the first three months, where I was coming home to Sylvie saying: ‘I think I screwed this up.’ It was, ‘Can I operate at that intelligent level?’ I’ve been happy being the goose. And I’ve been successful with that, and we’ve made a lovely life out of me being an idiot on TV. So can I operate at that next intense level at this stage of my life?”
“The answer is yes,” says Sylvie.
Earlier this year Larry went into his storage unit and dug out a tub labelled “box of broken dreams”, vowing to get through some bucket-list items by his birthday. One project has overtaken everything else.
Larry worked with the Corowa Distilling Co. to blend The Ben Buckler Australian whisky, planning to give a bottle to family and friends. It picked up a gold medal at the San Francisco World Spirits Competition and is now in high demand.
The success has Larry sitting up late answering emails. He jokes he’s finally got a real job. And while he says he never wants to leave TV, the Gold Logie nomination has prompted introspection.
“I love this so much and I feel so lucky, but at the same time, it’s not my choice. They could axe me from The Morning Show tomorrow. So, I could say to you, ‘Yeah, I’m going to work until I’m 75 and then I’ll retire’. But it’s none of my business honestly, and I learnt that really early.”
He remembers saying to his friend David Koch: “Mate, how did you know? You’re number one – how do you wake up in the morning and make that decision? Because I can’t see myself ever going, ‘I don’t want to do that anymore’.
“The reality for me and Sylvie,” he says finally, “is that I’m probably closer to the end than the start. Whether that’s two years or 10 years, I don’t know, but it’ll be a sad day because I love TV so much.”
