A few years ago, the reclusive Australian writer was struggling to make ends meet. Now, the world can't get enough of his cult suburban crime series.
“I auditioned and got the part,” Ryan recalls. “They’re also incredibly loyal, and there are people Scott has been loyal to who have treated him badly, and it’s left scars.” Ryan will tell me his most valuable mistake in life is “trusting people” and that the talent he most covets is “the ability to spot bullshit from a distance”. “Scott and Ray have lots in common – humour and darkness – what you see is what you get,” Melissa Ryan reminds me. “That was a driver for wanting to be somebody, to matter,” he says. I needed a purpose.” Closing in on 30, Ryan applied to a TAFE course in filmmaking at RMIT. “He was rude about it, so I told him to f--- off and started high-stepping to goad him,” Ryan seethes. “I got cocky and decided I was going to improvise an interview with the Invisible Man from behind a curtain. “If I had a talent it was writing,” he says. Ryan’s two older brothers are “very different” and “I’m a mish-mash of both,” he surmises. “Ray is a rare deep-dive into complex masculinity that is beautiful, honest and real,” she says. but I never realised it was the bullying until it showed up in Mr Inbetween.” There’s a cherry-red fridge in the kitchen and old leadlight doors in the lounge leading to a sofa, hearth and small television.