FITS of laughter on set are not what you expect from a newsreader, but when I arrive at our photo shoot with Jennifer Keyte, the entire room is laughing like a group of old friends.
Team Keyte, as I’ve dubbed them (the group includes her stylist, make-up artist, publicist and our photographer) look like guilty schoolchildren caught out when I ask what’s up. ‘‘We’re hoping the shoot ‘popped’,’’ says Keyte, referring to my earlier instructions – and it does. Let’s face it: at 51, Jennifer Keyte is still a babe.
In fact, in the 21 years I’ve known Keyte, she seems to have gotten better and better. When I later tell her this over an interview at a Toorak cafe she responds with the elegance of someone comfortable with where she is in life. I can’t help but think she’s still as sweet as the first time we met.
That’s the thing with Keyte: she doesn’t change and she has never needed to. Toorak may be some distance from where she grew up, as one of six, in Essendon, but she’s still the same girl who developed a thirst for news during school holidays spent debating the issues of the world with her father, John, at his Maidstone pharmacy where she helped out.
John Keyte told his daughter, who admits she was an un-exceptional student, that she had a great brain and a knack for asking good questions. From that day, she knew what she wanted to do.
Turning down a modelling career, Keyte started an arts degree before venturing into the media. After stints around town, including the graveyard shift at Triple M radio and news reporting at Channel Ten, she arrived at Network Seven as a journalist. By 1989 she was co-anchoring the news with Glenn Taylor.
In 1990, in a radical move to improve Seven’s dismal ratings – the news was being out-rated by the ABC’s Inspector Gadget – the station’s then news director, David Broadbent, gave 27-year-old Keyte an hour’s notice that she would be going solo to read the 6pm news. It was the first time a woman had done so.
And while that might not seem such a big deal in 2011, back then a woman had more chance of making a solo lunar landing than presenting prime time news alone. ‘‘Women were there to put the pop – the sparkle – on the news desk, and so we had the credible male, and the woman who was competent,’’ Keyte explains. And although research was starting to suggest something different, the big question was still: how long would she last?
‘‘I remember doing the interviews to promote the position and it was, ‘What’s your use-by date?’ and ‘How long do you think you will last?’,’’ she recalls. ‘‘I was like, ‘Heavens above!’ But over the years people have stopped asking that question.’’
Still, the ever-gracious Keyte doesn’t see herself as a trailblazer; that honour she gives to Jana Wendt, who co-anchored Ten’s prime time news, way back in 1980.
‘‘When I started at Channel Ten [at 22] she was reading the news,’’ says Keyte. ‘‘She was proof that you could be classy, elegant, stylish and successful – that you didn’t have to be aggressive. You didn’t have to be one of the boys; you could be yourself. You could do it your way – if you did it well.’’
And Keyte did do it well. Broadbent’s gamble paid off and Seven’s ratings surged to place consistently second behind Channel Nine. Keyte’s popularity grew while, thankfully, her ’80s bouffant shrunk. Soon her face was plastered on billboards across town.
Then came Tonight Live, Steve Vizard’s late-night talk show. For three years Keyte read a nightly bulletin on the show. Her report usually came after some outrageous comedy skit, so keeping a straight face required some resolve. ‘‘It was hard and a huge challenge,” says Keyte. “It was also a huge gamble by the network to risk their prime-time anchor in that position on the show and say, ‘Let’s see another side of you and see what it does to your credibility and your following’.”
Keyte says the move was positive and proved that viewers liked to see more personality in their newsreaders. ‘‘Not too much – it was a fine line I had to walk – so it didn’t impact on six o’clock.’’ The format proved to be the forerunner to breakfast television shows such as Sunrise, where newsreaders are expected to have personality.
Just as Keyte thought she was making headway for women, new management arrived at Seven with new ideas and Keyte found herself with a male co-anchor. She walked. Over at Nine, she turned her talents to presenting medical, magazine and travel shows, such as Good Medicine and Moment of Truth. It took eight years for Seven to lure her back to be its weekend anchor.
It’s a job she missed, even if the news wasn’t always good. Keyte has covered her fair share of bad news, but says Black Saturday will always stay with her: ‘‘It’s our responsibility as a community service to keep the story alive, to remind people that it’s still not great for the people there.’’
Steven Carey, Seven’s director of news, says her Black Saturday coverage stands out as a career highlight. ‘‘She was calm, totally professional and reassuring during a time of crisis.’’
During her eight-year break from Seven, Keyte got married and became a mum. And while the subject of her marriage break-up is off limits (as is any discussion of her current beau, author Elliot Perlman), her children – James, 11, and Alexander, nine – aren’t. Neither boy, she says, seems to think her being on television is a big deal. ‘‘They think it’s a weird job and strange,’’ she says, adding: ‘‘I think they’d like to see me on Dancing with the Stars.’’
Her role as weekend newsreader allows her to be there for them during the week – even if, at times, they like to bounce off the walls. ‘‘They are so alive,” she says. “James is like a puppy, I have to walk him twice a day or he will tear up the house. It’s a challenge as you have to harness that energy and put it to good use, because otherwise they could drive you crazy.’’
It’s this life-work balance that newsreader Peter Mitchell says makes Keyte so special. “It starts and ends with her professionalism and experience. I know it’s not easy juggling motherhood and work, but she makes it look so easy,’’ Mitchell says.
‘‘At the moment it works very well,’’ Keyte says. ‘‘I take the boys to school. I’m there to take them to after-school events. I can run the house [she’s a good Italian cook]. I’ve got my weekend work – I am very happy.’’
So will we see a biography one day? ‘‘No,’’ she laughs. ‘‘Maybe a children’s book. I tell my children stories when they can’t sleep and Alexander said the other day, ‘I love your stories, Mummy’, so maybe one day I will.’’