"It can't be right."

The comment was just one indication things were not quite going to plan during the ABC's televised election coverage of 1969.

It was first uttered by renowned political scientist Malcolm Mackerras and echoed by fellow academic John Power during a live broadcast from the National Tally Room in Canberra. It was unlike anything you might see today.

On this particular evening things were unfolding in a way that would make Antony Green and Annabel Crabb turn pale and sweaty — the numbers on the screen were incorrect and something had gone horribly wrong.

'That board is wrong'

Space to play or pause, M to mute, left and right arrows to seek, up and down arrows for volume. Watch Duration: 49 seconds 49 s Results lagging behind during the 1969 federal election broadcast.

"Let's see how the new state of the parties are lining up," journalist Mike Willesee says, turning to the board that shows how many seats have been secured by the Coalition, the ALP, as well as those still in doubt.

It shows 47 to the Coalition and 62 to the ALP, a huge margin for Labor.

As it slowly dawns on the coverage team that the numbers are way off, the nation watches on in real time.

Mr Mackerras is the first to raise the alarm.

"That board is wrong, that board is wrong," he says.

"It can't be right," Dr Power adds.

Drawing on his training as an anchor, Willesee quickly changes the subject.

A National Tally Room in Canberra

In elections past, votes were counted at Exhibition Park in Canberra, where members of the public could gather to watch the count unfold (in such a way that they could almost smell the ballot papers).

Prior to the help of modern technology, the votes were manually curated on a giant wooden tally board — stretching 37 metres wide and 7 metres high.

Though, however expansive the tally wall might have been, things could sometimes go awry.

At one stage in the 1969 broadcast one of the analysts looks over his shoulder to see how Eden-Monaro is faring in the count, forcing everyone to sit in whole seconds of awkward silence.

Space to play or pause, M to mute, left and right arrows to seek, up and down arrows for volume. Watch Duration: 41 seconds 41 s Disagreement over whether it's too soon to call NSW seats in the 1969 election broadcast.

An evening of democracy, skinny-dipping and marital tiffs

So high was the drama of the vote count (and the ABC's election broadcast) that it went on to inspire a play, Don's Party, which later became a film.

First performed in 1971, the play by David Williamson tapped into the angst felt in 1969 by those hoping for a Labor victory.

The film starts with election party host, Don, proclaiming the group are "celebrating the end of 20 years of conservative rule".

But before the night is out copious amounts of drinking, fist fights, discussions about penis sizes, offers of partner swapping and a mass skinny dip all take place, with the Tally Room coverage as a backdrop.

The blokes at Don's party abandoned the election coverage and went skinny dipping. ( Supplied: YouTube )

Before long, all but one of the Labor supporters, Evan (Kit Taylor), has abandoned the television.

"Are you particularly interested in this election?" Liberal leaning Simon (Graeme Blundell) asks.

"Not much," Evan replies.

"Me neither."

"Look, it doesn't make much difference who gets in, does it?

Don's Party is evidence that, while the technology may have changed and the broadcast from the National Tally Room in Canberra's north may be long gone, much remains the same in Australian politics, half a century later.

But will we ever see the drama that inspired Don's Party again?

What has really changed in 50 years?

In the background of the film was the relentless election broadcast, continuing into the night as the characters are left damp and drunk.

Most of the people at Don's party turned to alcohol to relieve the tension of the 1969 election. ( Supplied: YouTube )

In reality, the four presenters, in their shirtsleeves, looked palpably exhausted.

Perhaps indicative of what they were going through, scrunched-up notes, paper cups and what appeared to be uneaten sandwiches littered the desk.

It is nothing like the clean water glasses and artfully fanned papers we can expect to see laid out in front of Leigh Sales and Michael Rowland tonight.

It was with obvious relief for the 1969 team when the ABC broadcast came to an end and the credits rolled.

An off-camera voice, sounding very like that of James Dibble, can be heard saying, "that's it, thank God".

It came shortly after he was handed a piece of paper revealing Gorton's win, and solemnly stated:

"The ABC's political reporter says it appears that the government has been returned to office by the narrowest majority."

Nothing like the announcement Green will make tonight in front of a state-of-the-art digital screen.

The only remaining question is, can Australians throw an election party today that would live up to Don's?