How heartbreak made Ben Cousins bare his soul * Paul Toohey
* From: Herald Sun
* September 17, 2010 11:52PMHIS was not the celebration of a man who'd had a long life.Chris Mainwaring, a beloved son of the West Coast Eagles, was only 41.
He had two young kids. Cocaine had got him.
Ben Cousins and Robert Clemenger met across Mainwaring's coffin, as they carried him into the chapel of Perth's Geez Church Grammar School on October 8, 2007.
Cousins, champion West Coast midfielder, was himself a beloved, but fallen, son of the Eagles. He had become a drug user who lived between the underworld and the light. He had first-hand knowledge of Mainwaring's final hours.
Clemenger, a Victorian thoroughbred breeder, did not follow football but regarded Mainwaring as his closest friend.
He'd raced horses in Perth and, when hanging out with Mainwaring, had seen the adoration accorded to even a retired Eagle. He knew about Mainwaring's cocaine problem but was struggling to understand. Cousins held the key.
Mainwaring's death sent Cousins on a quest for annihilation, during which he developed a narcissistic notion: he would film his deteriorating life.
Cousins would later make an introductory statement to his documentary Such is Life - The Troubled Times of Ben Cousins, saying he hoped it would send a powerful message about drugs.
But that was an afterthought.
It would be about making money; giving himself something to do, and punishing the media by telling his story on his own terms. He would also punish the AFL, for choosing him to take the drug fall.
Clemenger would eventually play a role in delivering footage of Cousins smoking ice, dancing in his jocks with pixelated chicks, breaking down, and breaking his family's heart.
Anthony Mundine and his manager Khoder Nasser first suggested Cousins make the film, and pointed Cousins towards Paul Butler and Scott Walton, of Brisbane's 50/50 Films, best known for making clips for bands Powderfinger and Eskimo Joe.
Butler and Walton embedded with Cousins over 2008, when he was in no man's land. They gave him a camera to record his activities when they couldn't be there.
After 14 months, they had 100-plus hours of material - the most disturbing insights into a high-profile Australian ever seen.
Cousins never retreated. He insisted the most damning footage would not be censored. He wanted to tell an unacceptable truth: he loved drugs.
But things changed at the end of 2008. The AFL cleared Cousins to play.
After being rejected by several high-profile clubs, he signed with lowly Richmond for 2009.
The year off had bled his finances. He could no longer pay Butler and Walton. And he knew they could not handle the delicate negotiations required to bring this hammer-to-the-head material to the screen.
He needed money, and someone to get the AFL over the line. They controlled the rights to his playing footage. Cousins was hawking a very rough promo to the networks.
You'd think they'd have torn each other's throats to sign him. Perhaps the material -- and Cousins' intensity -- scared them.
COUSINS' own management advised that the money he'd sunk into the project was unlikely to be recouped.
But Robert Clemenger wanted it to be seen - for Mainwaring as much as Cousins: "My attitude was, 'Stuff that.' I knew how big the whole thing could be."
It was early 2009 and Clemenger was still traumatised by Mainwaring's death. "Chris was my best friend," he says. "You know how everyone's got someone they confide in? When Chris died, I lost that.
"When Ben came across to Melbourne for Richmond, that was terrific, because I knew how close Chris and Ben were. I felt this association to him through Ben.
"There were still a lot of questions and Ben, being the last person to see him, was the only person who could answer them.
"We met up in a hotel in Southbank. When I met Ben I said, 'I'm only after the truth and if you lie to me you'll never see me again.' He gave the answers. He gave me peace of mind."
Clemenger knew from Mainwaring that Cousins' excesses were "no better or worse" than some of the other Eagles.
Several members of the team knew about the drug use, he said.
"It's a joke. That's the hypocritical part of the AFL, and the press. They got the big guy in Cousins, but he is just the twig on the branch of a massive tree."
Clemenger began sorting out Cousins' expenses on the documentary to date. One receipt showed him how closely Cousins was watching money. It was, "Hot dog for doco boys".
Clemenger lined up a meeting with music boss Michael Gudinski, who watched the rough footage.
"I was impressed with Ben," says Gudinski. "I'm a football supporter and I thought it was a story that needed to be told."
What did Cousins want from the film? "I don't think Ben Cousins had a master plan."
Gudinski flew to Brisbane to give Butler and Walton the bad news - he would employ his own director and would need the footage.
"Ben was the one that got rid of Paul Butler, not me," says Gudinski.
Says Cousins: "They were doing a good job but we were really fighting an uphill battle. We didn't have a boss. We needed someone to give us direction, because we didn't know what documentary we were making."
Gudinksi's first call was to Paul Goldman, a director who had shot video clips for him "in the old days".
Goldman knows everyone, from the dark rock lords to pop princesses. And he had a weakness known to few who live east of the dingo fence: he was an Eagles fan.
The Brisbane boys felt they had moral rights, but copyright resided with Cousins.
On Cousins' motivations for making the documentary, Goldman says: "I don't think he understood why he wanted to do this.
"It's a remarkable act of narcissism but I think it was therapeutic.
"I think he also wanted a right of reply. Everyone feels the right to have an opinion about his life.
"He's never dobbed anyone in. He's refused to make simpering apologies at the behest of the Eagles or the AFL. I'm sure he's been asked to speak publicly against drugs. He won't do it."
Cousins didn't want a tame outcome.
For him, finishing the film was important. "There's some things in my life that I've started and never stuck at, apart from football," he says.
"That's part of what I set out to do. By investing my money and time, it became harder to walk away from."
Goldman knew the AFL was not keen: "They made it clear, along the way, the project would never see the light of day until after he'd retired."
Gudinski will not discuss his negotiations with the AFL.
"The last thing the AFL wanted to be seen as were as censors and that's as much as I'll say," he says.
Cousins insisted the documentary be shown while he was still playing. He wanted it to be relevant, and disturbing. The chance came at the end of season 2010.
Gudinski says: "As it turned out we had a bit of luck. I found inside information about Ben going to retire and it was the right time for it to be run and we got there."
Gudinski agrees some viewers hated it. They were infuriated by the smug Cousins smile.
Goldman says he must take some responsibility. When Cousins gave his account of fleeing the booze bus on Perth's Canning Highway in 2006 - which cost him the Eagles captaincy - he told it with a serious face.
"When it comes to documentary truth, this is an enlightening moment," says Goldman. "I said, 'Do you mind telling it again, with a bit of a smile and a cheeky grin, turn it into a more rollicking tale?' He did that and that's what we used. People have crucified him for it."
Why do it? "Because the Ben I got to know is f------ cheeky."
And Cousins? "I'm very reluctant to come out and say I'm cured...There is no doubt it was a cathartic experience. I didn't realise how much pain or damage I'd caused to those around me until I started working my way back through the documentary."
COUSINS seems to be once again in a good place.
Of his future, Goldman says: "I keep hearing the word 'trepidation'."
Says Clemenger: "I can guarantee you if the documentary hadn't gone to air he'd be looking for his next pipe right now.
"I've never seen anyone's face light up like that when you talk about drugs. He seems to have come through the other side."
http://www.heraldsun.com.au/news/national/how-heartbreak-made-ben-cousins-bare-his-soul/story-e6frf7l6-1225925650466
