John Polson was headed for jail. One phone call changed his life forever

Link copiedShareShare articleThe police caught up with John Polson somewhere around Sydney's Dee Why, hooning on a stolen motorbike. It wasn't the first time. He was a "teen delinquent doing some small-time crime", a rebellious 17-year-old raised around drug use, mental illness, physical abuse and few boundaries. But this time, the lost lad in search of attention had a glimmer of hope. Instead of calling his father from the lock-up, Polson opted to contact family friend and talent agent Robyn Gardiner, who'd talked him into auditioning for his first play. John Polson was headed for a future behind bars before a life-changing call. (Supplied: John Polson) Polson called Gardiner. "You've got the part," she said. "Acting saved me and actors saved me," Polson, 60, tells Australian Story. "I suddenly was part of a community. I wasn't hanging out with guys stealing motorbikes and stuff. I was hanging out with actors … [and] actors are just the greatest people, for the most part. I just love them." He's mates with quite a few. Nicole Kidman, who he co-starred with in one of his early television roles, the 1987 mini-series Vietnam, remains "a very good friend". Her ex-husband Tom Cruise, who was instrumental in launching Polson's career in the US, is "a wonderful guy". John Polson with Ben Mendelsohn on the set of the 1994 film Sirens. (Supplied: John Polson) Then there's old actor mates such as Simon Baker and Mary "Effie" Coustas who he'd hang out with at Darlinghurst's Tropicana Caffe — the place where Polson's most enduring role began. It was here that actors, musicians and dancers would meet, networking and waiting for news about gigs. In 1993, the easily bored Polson decided to fill in time between jobs by making a short film and showing it at "the Trop". John Polson takes to the mic at the first Tropfest at the Tropicana Caffe. (Supplied: John Polson) He rigged up a borrowed television and a crowd gathered. He jokes that the place was so packed, many people couldn't hear or see the film, and as a result "they thought it was brilliant". The first Tropfest pulled a big crowd in 1993. (Supplied: Flickr/Tropfest) Tropfest provided a new path of entry into the Australian film industry. (Supplied: Flickr/Tropfest) So brilliant, the crowd wanted more. And so, Tropfest was born, a short film festival that became one of the world's largest platforms for short films, with offshoot festivals around the globe. Actor Russell Crowe was among the big names at Tropfest 2003. (AAP: Mick Tsikas) Then the COVID pandemic hit in 2020. "The next thing you know, there's been no Tropfest for years," Polson says. "I was devastated." But an email from another acting mate, Bryan Brown, changed that and in February this year, Tropfest was back, with Australia's Hollywood stars Margot Robbie and Sarah Snook centre stage. "Tropfest has been the longest thing, more than half my life," says Polson, who is now a director based in New York. "I'm proud of other things in my life, too, but I'm not kidding myself that [Tropfest has had] the most impact. "This isn't just a TV show or a movie. It's kind of a movement." Polson sits outside the Tropicana, contemplating why he's so comfortable in the tumultuous world of filmmaking, a business filled with moving parts and high-stake decisions. "I kind of like the hustle, I think I thrive off the energy," he says. "Maybe because of my background and my childhood, chaos, it settles me down." Mum Marie Polson "had her demons". (Supplied: John Polson) His mother, Marie Francis, was a talented jazz musician and his father, Ron Polson, was a singer. They teamed up in their home country of New Zealand before moving to Sydney and within five years had four kids. "And almost straight away, they split up," Polson says. Ron left for London to pursue his singing career and Marie, who endured an abusive childhood, was left to raise the kids on her own. "My mum had demons," says Polson, who explains he always loved her, despite their struggles. Things deteriorated when Marie hooked up with a drummer who was also a heroin addict. "If he wanted to beat you, you'd get a beating. My mum was like that, too, to be honest." Ron Polson (back) with daughter Jenny and sons John, Adam and Tony. (Supplied: John Polson) When Polson was 12, Marie was hospitalised in a mental health unit and he went to live with Ron. "I tried to bring some stability," Ron told the ABC in 2012. "He wasn't very fond of authority." An unstable childhood gave John Polson the fire to succeed as an adult. (Supplied: John Polson) Polson began missing school and running amok. "We got pretty good at getting into cars," he says of the gang he hung out with. "Stole a couple of motorbikes here and there." Polson is embarrassed about his wayward youth and still marvels at his "fork in the road" moment. That first play, ironically called Busted, was his lifeline to the attention he craved. "There's a big connection betwe

John Polson was headed for jail. One phone call changed his life forever

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