Australian Tumbleweeds
Queer eye for the misogynist line
Corinne Grant and Tom Ballard got in to a spat the other day about the attitude of gay male comics towards women. The whole thing started when Grant wrote an article for Daily Life called Should gay men make sexist jokes?, in which she argued that gay stand-ups can get away with misogynist gags because there’s a fear amongst women that if they object to the material they’ll be labelled homophobic. She then went on to make the point that gay stand-ups, particularly younger ones, aren’t aware of the arguments against – or even the concept of – misogyny in the way that the generations who proceeded them were.
Grant cites as an example a joke told by a gay comedian in which he said that he is disgusted by vaginas. She then quotes Tom Ballard’s reaction to her question about whether this joke is misogynist:
…I wouldn’t say that someone saying that they’re disgusted by vaginas is necessarily misogynist; it could just be them being brutally honest.
Grant argues that this response from Ballard proves her point about younger generations of gay comics:
I know Tom and I know he cares about women; his routines often point out the hypocrisy of discrimination against them. However, this may be an example of what [Dr] Peter [Robinson, lecturer in sociology at Swinburne University and author of The Changing World of Gay Men] is talking about—it’s not deliberate sexism, it’s simply not always recognising it for what it is.
The reaction to Grant’s piece, particularly amongst gay comics, was strong. Tom Ballard wrote a long response on his blog, in which he complained that Grant had tarred all gay comedians with the same brush, before re-stating his oft-stated view that comedy is about exposing uncomfortable truths, that comedians should be able to shock and that nothing should be off limits. There was also quite a lot of discussion about the issue on Twitter, with Adam Richard reducing the whole issue down to following piece of snark:
…as a gay comedian, I am a raging misogynist.
And so another internet/media spat came to the end of its short but brightly-burning life cycle, and we are left to reflect on what happened.
We could obviously spend ages debating whether that vagina gag was misogynist or just brutally honest. In comparison to a lot of so-called gags we’ve heard over the years – from straight and gay comics – it doesn’t seem that hate-filled towards women. It’s a gay man finding the female sexual organs distasteful and no doubt some gay men do feel that – they prefer dicks, who knew? It seems strange that some gay men would have such a strong reaction to a body part they could quite easily ignore, but there you are. Shouldn’t the main focus here be whether the gag is actually funny or not?
Indeed, the notion of whether any of the potentially misogynist jokes cited were funny was almost missing from the debate. The issue is hinted at in Corinne Grant’s piece, but it seemed to be missing from Tom Ballard’s mantra that you should be able to speak truths/shock/annoy people.
Just because something is true or shocking doesn’t make it funny. Shockingly and truthfully, thousands of people die every day of starvation or preventable diseases, excuse us as we piss ourselves laughing at that fact. In the great gay misogynist comedy debate Adam Richard’s glib reduction of the issue seems to be the closest things got to actual humour, which is kind of a shame.
This is not to say that we don’t welcome serious debate on this issue – it would be kind of contradictory if we didn’t – it’s more that we wish that debates on comedy were about comedy, in the sense that there was debate about whether different types of comedy are actually funny. And this line that Ballard, and a great many other comedians, push, that shockingly uncomfortable truths are the be all and end all of comedy, really needs some examination too. We know why lots of comedians push this line – recent tabloid OUTRAGES have seriously undermined their work, freedom of speech is important and vital – but what you might call “shock comedy” quite often results in unfunny, gittish comedy. Comedians have a perfect right to be unfunny and gittish, of course, but that doesn’t make “shock comedy” entertaining.
Comedic examinations of all topics need to be thoughtful in order to be funny. If they’re unthoughtful they won’t ring true and make us laugh, they’ll just be gratuitous and pointless. Some gay men may be disgusted by vaginas but that fact alone isn’t funny, nor does talking about it make a particularly interesting point. There’s no doubt some context and build-up to that gag, but we don’t get to see it in Corinne Grant’s piece, which is a shame because the context and build-up are important to the argument.
In this country and on this blog we often complain that we don’t produce very good comedy. Perhaps the way this spat played out hints as to why. Often there isn’t enough thought going in to either individual gags or the context in which they sit. Often comedians reduce complex arguments down to glib one liners. Sometimes what comedians do really misfires. Uncomfortable truths and honesty won’t prevent that from happening, only the writing and telling of good thoughtful jokes and routines will.
Mime Your Language
If you’re a fan of Australian comedy, almost by definition you have to have broad tastes. If you’re only going to enjoy Australian sitcoms, you’re going to spend a lot of time watching Kingswood Country waiting for the next new one to come along; if you’re only really a fan of really funny Australian shows, you’ll have to borrow the Kingswood Country DVDs from that other guy. Often you’re going to find yourself watching something that isn’t really your cup of tea on the off chance you’ll find some gold, and sometimes you’ll find yourself watching Woodley.
Frank Woodley’s first solo series has him playing the bungling but endearing father to seven year-old Ollie (Alexandra Cashmere) and the ex husband to the somewhat exasperated Em (Justine Clarke). If you’re reading this you’ve probably already seen the first episode; next week’s installment starts off with Woodley turning up on his postie bike then pulling a range of faces while coughing in time to various cat noises that turn out to be actually happening rather than just comedy sound effects. Don’t worry, it’s funnier than the description. Well, a little.
Woodley is built almost entirely around slapstick and mime, and while Mr Bean is the obvious comparison Woodley is a slightly more grounded character, an almost believable bungler rather than an almost alien weirdo. As you might expect from a show with not a whole lot of dialogue, each episode’s story is fairly slight when it comes to plot. It does, however, make up for it somewhat by being packed with comedic set-pieces; making a cup of tea leads to a tea-bag being stuck on the ceiling and trying to get it down requires standing on a rocking chair and it’s not hard to figure out things are going to get worse from there.
The smaller notes are often funnier than the big moments – repeatedly being hit in the head with a lampshade isn’t quite as funny as the wary look Woodley gives it later on after he’s escaped its repeated blows – but the big moments are extremely inventive and each episode skilfully builds to the point where just seeing Woodley with a crowbar is enough to raise a smile.
Problem is, a smile is pretty much all this raises. It’s not exactly a children’s show – the failed romance is a little too bittersweet for that – but Ollie’s presence does suggest repeats could end up in a kid-friendly timeslot (if 8pm on a Wednesday isn’t kid-friendly already). After all, The Umbilical Brothers did a broader kind of slapstick & mime work on various 90s ABC comedy series and they’ve done very well with their more recent children’s shows. Adults, on the other hand, should keep in mind that there’s a reason why mime and clowning isn’t something many of us spend a lot of time watching.
This is a show that’s clear about what it’s trying to achieve and for the most part it does it well. But there’s a lack of variety to the material that – in our case at least – we quickly found wearying. We’re probably not the world’s biggest mime fans in the first place so a full half hour of it, no matter how well done, is almost certainly putting a lot more on our plate than we’re comfortable swallowing. It’s Woodley’s show and he’s playing to his strengths – and perhaps overseas sales, as a near-wordless comedy has to be a decent option when it comes to sales in Europe and Asia – but the occasional pun or wisecrack would have helped vary things up a little.
This is an extremely well made show starring a very funny man and it deserves all the success it can find; it just may not be something you want to watch half and hour of every single week.
And in overseas news
Remember that story last year about how Britain’s Channel 4 were working on a supposed rip-off of The Gruen Transfer called The Mad Bad Ads Show? If you don’t, we blogged about it here. Either way, it went to air on Friday night and we’ve managed to see it.
First thing first: is it a Gruen rip-off? Well, possibly, in that it’s a humorous panel show about advertising. But things are a little less cut and dry than when the BBC made Olympics sitcom Twenty Twelve; there was a clear paper trail there, demonstrating that the producers of Twenty Twelve spent several years working with John Clarke and Ross Stevenson on a UK version of The Games (we blogged about that here). When it comes to The Mad Bad Ads Show there’s been no real evidence, or even solid-ish accusations, that the format was actually stolen, apart from a couple of articles last year in The Australian and on TV Tonight which were kind of a beat-up.
Objective Productions, the producers of The Mad Bad Ads Show, may have heard of The Gruen Transfer – a pilot for a UK Gruen Transfer was made for the BBC a couple of years ago, TV’s an international industry and personnel move around a lot, Zapruder’s Other Films (makers of Gruen) may have had conversations with people from Objective, or with people who later re-worked their idea and sold it to Objective – but they equally might not have. As a poster called TheUnrelatedFamily pointed out on the Chortle message board, Britain has seen panel shows about advertising before, such as The Best Show in the World…Probably, and while Zapruder’s Other Films have “engaged lawyers” this will probably be quite a difficult case for them to prove, even if they can establish a relationship between their personnel and Objective’s. Even then, John Clarke and Ross Stevenson had a clear connection with the BBC and as far as we’re aware they didn’t get very far with their legal action (a second series of Twenty Twelve is coming soon, for one thing).
The Australian’s article summarised this situation quite neatly…
Format plagiarism is particularly hard to prove, especially in generic format areas such as panel shows.
The news comedy Good News Week was involved in a stoush with the British staple Have I Got News For You, and the ABC music show Spicks and Specks attracted rancor following Rockwiz‘s pitch to the ABC.
…and that’s without mentioning that Spicks and Specks was quite a clear rip-off of UK panel show Never Mind The Buzzcocks.
Speaking of Spicks and Specks (or more possibly Never Mind The Buzzcocks), that seems as likely an influence on The Mad Bad Ads Show as The Gruen Transfer, in that The Mad Bad Ads Show involves a team of two comedians and one ad executive (Never Mind The Buzzcocks and Spicks and Specks generally went with two comedians and one musician, whereas The Gruen Transfer always had two ad execs on its panels), the teams answer questions about ads to score points (unlike in Gruen where it’s a discussion format), and there are physical games (in episode 1 of The Mad Bad Ads Show three actors dressed as famous characters from ads are brought out and the teams have to place them in the order in which they first appeared on TV, similar games are often played in Buzzcocks and Spicks). You could even argue that The Mad Bad Ads Show stole the idea of pre-filming part of the show from Thank God You’re Here, as there’s a round where the team captains go to an ad agency or run a focus group in order to create an ad for a hard-to-sell product. At the end of the show the team captains show their ad and then the audience votes for their favourite, just like how the Balls of Steel audience chooses their favourite stunt. Oh, and the host of The Mad Bad Ads Show is Mark Dolan, host of the original UK Balls of Steel, a show which is made by Objective Productions, so at least they don’t have to worry about lawyers there.
Perhaps more interesting than any analysis of possible ways The Mad Bad Ads Show may have ripped off some other show (and if it has, we suspect The Best Show in the World…Probably is the most likely candidate), is an analysis of why The Mad Bad Ads Show is better than The Gruen Transfer. We’re not saying it’s a great show – because it isn’t – but the fact that it’s comedy-led is a vast improvement. What would you rather see: a bunch of smug advertising executives talking up their tiresome and manipulative craft, or a bunch of comedians pointing out that advertising is a tiresome and manipulative craft in a piss-takey way? For us, it’s the latter every time.
It’s Not Easy Being Green
We were going to talk about a review of Outland, but… ah, what the hell, let’s start with that. In The Age‘s Green Guide television supplement for Feb 16th, Jim Schembri had this to say about Outland: “The problem with this stab at a hip, savvy sitcom is that it is too gay”. Considering the show is about a group of gay science-fiction fans, that’s like saying the problem with The Love Boat is that it contains too much shipboard romance. Or that the problem with Cheers is that it glamourises alcohol abuse. Or that the problem with Two Broke Girls is that it’s about two poverty-stricken females. You see our point.
Fortunately, Schembri hasn’t just thrown this somewhat eye-catching statement out there simply to shock and annoy. He goes on to describe the episode he’s talking about (episode 3) before getting to the crux of his issue with the show: “Now, to be clear, penis jokes can be funny. The trouble is that there’s no relief from it, nobody to set up punchlines or to say to Fab ‘Does moisturising your elbows really enhance your prospects in the gay community?’ Outland is badly in need of a straight man, figuratively and literally.” Last things first: why does the show need a literal straight man? Why would only a straight-as-in-heterosexual man make a show about gay nerds funnier? Why not a woman? Why does the character have to be heterosexual? Are only straight men funny? What the hell?
He’s made his argument – one with a massive hole in it that we’re about to point out, don’t worry about that – and that argument is that the show needs a figurative “straight man” to set up the jokes and question the wacky behaviour of the rest of the cast. But why does that “straight man” have to be a heterosexual male for Schembri’s argument to work? Because the show does have a straight man: Max (Toby Truslove), who spent all of the first episode acting exactly how Schembri seems to want a straight man character to act: he was embarassed by his flamboyantly gay friends and constantly questioned their behaviour while setting up numerous punchlines with his frantic actions. While being gay.
Thing is, each episode of Outland focuses on a different character, which means that Max is a background player in the rest of the series. So the actual complaint should have been more along the lines of “the straight man is woefully under-used”… but then Schembri probably wouldn’t have been able to make his “too gay” and “Outland is badly in need of a straight man, figuratively and literally” comments, because they wouldn’t have made sense: the show HAS a straight man, he’s just not heterosexual.
Maybe we’re off base here, but what exactly does sexual orientation have to do with being funny? Outland covers a wide range of queer stereotypes and plays them all for laughs; no-one’s saying you have to find any of this funny (and Schembri’s problems with the show’s one-note comedy are reasonable) but to flat-out say that a comedy about gay characters needs a heterosexual male to make it funny is a somewhat strange – and frankly, distasteful – view of comedy.
*
To get back to what we were planning to bring up here, it seems that the rumours everyone but us heard about The Chaser leaving the ABC aren’t even true. From the same Green Guide: “Reports The Chaser team has left the ABC would seem to be premature, given the group has at least two television projects slated for the national broadcaster later this year.” Presumably the reports were based around the news that some of The Chaser team are working on a pilot for Seven; the fact that Chaz from The Chaser is currently appearing on the ABC on Planet America (Fridays, 6pm) seems to have passed these commentators by.
More importantly, so has the fact that The Chaser seem to be moving from a model where every show they make is a 100% full-time commitment on their part to a model where they rapidly go from show to show with a couple of projects on the go (this year it’s a panel show on Seven, maybe more Hamster Wheel, and maybe a “consumer affairs” show, not counting solo projects) at any one time.
Think of Working Dog (chances are The Chaser are, as they’re a massively successful model of comedians stretching themselves and developing a long-term television career): while they started out putting all their eggs into the Frontline basket, these days they go from network to network – they’ve had shows on Ten, Seven and the ABC in the last five years – while putting out books, movies and a whole range of shows.
It’d be silly to say “Has Working Dog left the ABC?” now, because they’ve gone and come back at least once already. Presumably that’s the model The Chaser are looking for: one where they – oh, Andrew Denton’s a good example too, having done shows on Pay TV, Ten and Seven as well as the ABC – aren’t beholden to any one network’s limited timeslots and programming choices.
Thing is though, with this broadening of options and opportunities comes something of a dilution in terms of actual output. Frontline is a rightly acclaimed television classic; The Panel and Thank God You’re Here were lightweight fluff that are, for the most part, already forgotten. Would The Hollowmen have taken so long to find its feet if it had been Working Dog’s sole project for eighteen months? Perhaps, perhaps not – but diversification is how you grow a company and these days Working Dog have a business to run. By the looks of things, so do the artists formerly known as The Chaser.
You’ve Got To Ask Yourself A Question
Working Dog might be a tight-knit team of twenty years standing with an admirable track record of success across pretty much all forms of Australian media – and a global success under their belt with Thank God You’re Here – but it’s still possible to take a guess at which member is the driving force behind their various individual projects. The books always seem to be largely the work of Tom “Tommy G” Gleisner because he’s the “writer” of the bunch (he’s written a bunch of Warwick Todd cricketing parodies on his own). Their current television series Sports Fever! feels like a Santo Cilauro project, in part because it’s spun off from their World Cup sports show and Santo’s a soccer tragic, and in part because he’s the one hosting. And Any Questions For Ben, Working Dog’s latest feature film, feels like something Rob Sitch has got his shoulder behind… which is where the problems start.
One of our favourite Rob Sitch stories comes from an episode of Working Dog’s big TV success of the late 1990s, The Panel. Mick Molloy was a guest on this particular evening’s episode, and at one stage Rob had the show cut to a new car commercial that was an especially slick example of the form. (it may have even been this one… or maybe not) When the ad was done Rob turned to Mick and said “what do you think, Mick?” Mick just laughed and said “it’s shithouse”.
Mick had a point: whatever its’ technical achievements, whatever its’ conceptual brilliance, the ad was, like every single other ad made in the history of humanity, ultimately shithouse. It’s nothing but a slick product designed to evoke a feeling then use that feeling to sell you something. Unfortunately, that’s as good a description as any to describe Any Questions For Ben. Like the ad, it’s all surface polish and feel-good vibes, with nothing underneath but a vague sense that you’re being sold something you probably don’t really want.
For those that don’t know, the plot of AQFB is simple… a little too simple in fact. Ben (Josh Lawson) is 27 years old and living the good life in Melbourne. He dates models, he makes a fortune in some kind of media / branding job, he has good friends and good times. But when he goes back to his high school for careers day and none of the kids have any questions for him, he’s thrown. Is his life as empty and shallow as all that? Better date a few more models and go to a few more parties to figure this shit out.
The film’s one big obvious problem is that once Ben realises he has a problem he does nothing about it. In fact, there is so little dramatic development in this film that while there are SPOILERS AHEAD they’re barely worth the name because Ben literally does nothing to change his life once he enters his “quarter-life crisis”. He just continues down the same path, occasionally asking questions of those around him then doing nothing with the answers. Worse, while his problem has been in part that he’s been dating gorgeous women he knows nothing about and has zero in common with, the solution to his mounting ennui turns out to be… dating a gorgeous woman he knows nothing about and has zero in common with. It’s a film that has to end exactly when it does because it’s obvious that six months later she’d be out of his life and the cycle would begin again.
Despite what we said earlier, just because Sitch is out front on this project as the director doesn’t mean it’s entirely his baby (much like having Santo as host of Sports Fever! doesn’t mean the other two aren’t shaping the show from behind the scenes). In fact, from what we’ve heard about the production Working Dog is a real team effort: Gleisner does script re-writes on the set, Santo handles the technical side of filming and Sitch is the one who deals with the actors and their performances. Add in Jane Kennedy (who handles casting and music) and Michael Hirsh (the business side of things), and you have a fairly self-contained unit.
But this feels like a “Rob Sitch” Working Dog project because the “Rob Sitch” projects (the other one that really fits the bill is The Panel) are all about shallow fun. A Gleisner project is about jokes and plenty of them; Santo’s projects feel passionate and rambling. Reportedly Sitch was the one who said if they made a third movie (after The Castle and The Dish) they should make an urban film set in the present day; if nothing else, AQFB is certainly that. Then again, so was Death in Brunswick, and that had a hell of a lot more laughs.
Of course, there’s a fourth kind of Working Dog project: the commercial kind. Even now, after they let both The Panel and Thank God You’re Here linger past their use-by dates, they’re still seen as a team that jumps from project to project once they get bored. So let’s say that’s true: after pretty much achieving all their artistic goals in comedy with the successes of both the sitcom Frontline and the movie The Castle, it’s fair to assume that their next round of goals would be commercial.
The Panel was a long running chat show that was a massive commercial success in Australia; Thank God You’re Here was a format sold around the world. The Jetlag series of comedy travel books were best-sellers; Jane Kennedy did well with a non-comedy cookbook. They’ve had their share of misfires (did anyone even know they put out Audrey Gordon’s Tuscan Summer, a fake foodie book, a year or so ago?), but their only really biggish failure was The Dish, which did well in Australia but fizzled in the US market. Not that they’d admit they were looking for overseas success, but you don’t bring US actors into an Australian film – or make a film saying that Australia’s minor role in a US project shaped our nation – unless you’re looking beyond our shores.
In that light trying again at the movies, especially with their coffers flush with Thank God You’re Here cash, makes sense. It also explains why AQFB is a film with next to no artistic reason for existing. This isn’t a story anyone was demanding be told, because it’s barely a story; it’s a glamour photography session with Melbourne lounging around trying to look sexy. Aerial shots of the city at night! Cool music! Major events! Hip bars! Everyone looks great!
To be fair, romantic comedies often rely on a polished, hyper-real atmosphere as a backdrop for their tale of true lurv. But as mentioned, there’s little sense of true love in action here. Instead, Ben’s personal dramas seem to be kept as low key as possible so as to not disrupt his regular appearances at hip night spots. If he was going through a real personal crisis, he might not feel like attending the Spring Racing Carnival or going snowboarding at Queenstown. So it seems fair to assume that making sure he visited loads and loads of cool-looking places was a higher priority story-wise than giving him an actual story, let alone making him a funny guy. After all, comedy is one of the hardest things to export, even between English-speaking countries; if you want to make a film that’ll do well overseas, downplaying the Australian sense of humour may not be a bad idea.
Mind you, Working Dog are smart cookies and they know to hedge their bets, so while the main characters are a largely bland and laff-free bunch living the good life the extensive supporting cast are given plenty to work-with comedy-wise. Okay, perhaps “plenty” is an exaggeration. Still, people like Lachy Hulme (basically playing Marty Boomstein from Boytown, only with better hair and worse jokes), Ed Kavalee and John Howard have solid comedy cameos, while Alan Brough, David James (from The Hollowmen) and Sean Lynch (from The Shambles) also get laughs from their small roles. Sitch also makes a funny appearance as Ben’s high school headmaster, proving once again that he’s one of Australia’s better comic actors. Maybe next time instead of hiring good looking up-and-comers whose comedy skills are average at best Working Dog could build a film around Sitch?
The problem is that Working Dog have nothing to prove artistically. They’re never going to make a film funnier or more beloved than The Castle, and they’d be foolish to try. Instead, they’ve focused their film efforts on trying to come up with something that looks good and will appeal to as wide an audience in Australia and globally so as to rake in the really big bucks (sadly, it seems they’ve already failed). The result is that Any Questions For Ben passes on being dramatic or funny or all that interesting in favour of selling an image of Melbourne as a swinging international city full of handsome people having fun. It’s basically a 110 minute car commercial; wonder what Mick Molloy would have to say about that.
Roast the Host with The Most
Australian television doesn’t have comedians any more, it has hosts. Think about how many much-loved laugh-getters from radio and sketch comedy have, under the relentless all-bland pressure of Australian television, turned into little more than less competent versions of Larry Emdur. Think about all the “comedians” coming through now who, first chance they get, throw away all but the first two pages of their joke book as they settle in to introducing celebrity guests and giving “funny” answers on panel / game shows. Now you might have some idea why we hold Shaun Micallef in such high regard.
Unlike pretty much everyone currently working on Australian television – with the notable exception of Chris Lilley – Micallef isn’t a host. Sure, he plays one on Talkin’ ’bout Your Generation, but that’s just it: he’s clearly playing a host. Australian television wants its’ hosts to be friendly, open, approachable – basically, radio jocks with slightly less edge. And a big, big part of being a jock is swapping being funny for opening up about your private life.
Again, it comes from radio. With so much pressure to produce material, sooner or later radio jocks end up strip-mining their own lives. Stories about their weekends, stories about their kids, stories about their relationships, stories about what they think of the issues of the day: it’s what a host talks about. It’s all a host talks about. Frankly, we couldn’t care less what Dave Hughes thinks about anything, but it seems we’re in the minority there.
Micallef, on the other hand, works on television. He knows that he doesn’t have to “be himself”to win viewers over; all he has to do is be funny. When he’s on panel shows or giving interviews he dials it down a little but he’s still more about cracking jokes than revealing who he is. Fun fact: out of all the Australian comedians to write a book in the last five years, he’s the only one who wrote a work of fiction.
All of this would seem obvious – hell, maybe it is obvious and you stopped reading three paragraphs ago – if it wasn’t so unusual for this day and age. Let us now point out that after years of struggle doing comedy his biggest success has been hosting a game show, which is about as mainstream a hosting job as they come. It’s easy to imagine pretty much anyone in Australian comedy doing roughly the same thing – it’s just not possible to stay awake while doing it.
Micallef doesn’t want to “share” with us. He doesn’t even want us to “like” him if he can get bigger laughs from being a bit of a jerk. And this is why we’re still paying attention to Talkin’ ’bout Your Generation, long, long after the show itself ceased to amaze and enthrall. We even waited an extra week before writing about the latest season just in case it had any surprises up its’ hilariously retro sleeves. It didn’t: apart from a steady drip of new games (which all seem the same to us) and more cross-promotional theme shows than regular episodes, it hasn’t really changed since the early days when Micallef wrestled it to the ground and put his brand right on its meaty flank.
Don’t get us wrong, we appreciate Micallef’s endless nutty touches. Using the chair from Blade Runner still gets a smile ’round these parts, as does his hammy fake organ playing. But everyone else on the show (with the surprising exception of the otherwise painful Josh Thomas) is dead weight. Amanda Keller is at best a comedy mirror – fire enough comedy her way and eventually she’ll reflect something back – and these days Charlie Pickering is clearly a host, not a comedian. Don’t believe us? What’s his comedy persona? What does he do that’s funny beyond saying smart-arse things? Okay, maybe he’s kinda smug and above it all. Wow, that’s hilarious.
At least with Josh, Micallef has something to work with. Josh may be actually like he is on the show, we don’t know, but on the show he comes off as a comedy character, dim and distracted, with stupid hair and a bogus voice. It’s often annoying; it’s also occasionally somewhat funny. If you’d never seen the show before you’d assume as a matter of course that a comedy game show about a battle between the generations would involve team leaders who somehow embodied the cliches about those generations, but clearly that fell into the too-hard basket for the casting director and so apart from Josh the other two are just… well, collecting a paycheck for starters.
Talkin’ ’bout Your Generation works to the limited extent it does because Micallef is hosting, and because as a host Micallef is a talented comedian trying to be funny. “Be more funny” is a simple thing but considering how many times Peter Helliar’s scored work hosting sports shows clearly it’s not a high priority for the networks. It’s not a lesson you think will be learnt by them in a hurry either: if this proves to be the last season of Talkin’ ’bout Your Generation (and it really should be), you know the fact that the only long-running successful comedy show on Australian commercial television was hosted by a comedian, not a blandly-grinning host, will be glossed over the second Micallef’s out the door.
There may be only one Shaun Micallef, but there are (presumably) other funny people in Australia; next time someone thinks it’s a good idea to try a comedy game show, maybe hire one of them for a change.
A little outlandish, and quite entertaining
The ABC’s new Wednesday comedy line-up kicked off last night with the return of Adam Hills In Gordon Street Tonight and the long-awaited debut of the sitcom Outland.
In Gordon Street Tonight episode 2.1 gave us more of the same mix of live music, celebrity interviews, and larking about with members of the public in studio, on location and via social media. It was a fun show and had a good line-up of guests last night including Rob Sitch and Josh Lawson (Any Questions for Ben?) and Jonathan Lynn (Yes Minister).
Hannah Gadsby was also back as Hill’s sidekick, sending over the odd well-observed zinger from her side of the studio. Apart from being pretty funny, she adds a bit of much-needed edge to the show, although not really enough for our tastes. But with it’s lightweight mucking about, In Gordon Street Tonight has the sort of mainstream appeal that provides ABC-1’s Wednesday night line-up of entertainment and comedy with a rusted-on audience. And as an act of pure pragmatism or strategy that’s kind of necessary (remember the days when kinda decent new Australian comedies would be scheduled poorly and end up dying on their arses?). Helpfully, In Gordon Street Tonight is entertaining enough to be worthwhile pragmatism, although it’s casual audience, the one who only tunes in to see specific guests, must be fairly high.
Of more interest (to us) was the show which presumably benefited from In Gordon Street Tonight‘s appeal, Outland, a new sitcom about a gay science fiction club. It proved to be funny, feel good and a bit alternative, so, we feel compelled to ask, why did it get delayed for a year? Was it ABC pragmatism or strategy again? Get the bloated, mega-hyped mess that was Angry Boys to air when it suits the BBC and HBO? Or put the semi-topical At Home with Julia to air while it’s still “relevant”? Maybe someone at the ABC got shitscared about the science fiction aspect, or even the gay aspect?
Either way Outland is well worth a look, and judging from our preview copy of episode 2 it’s worth sticking with. It’s a long time since we’ve seen an Australian sitcom that goes hell for leather with the over-the-top characters and situations, and hey, guess what? That makes it funny! Time to ditch that tedious noughties realism and documentary-style camera work, kids. Just fill a room with zany characters and let them be funny.
A load of balls
New Australian comedy was back on the box this week, with the debut of Santo, Sam and Ed’s Sports Fever! and the return of a few shows including Balls of Steel Australia and Clarke & Dawe.
Balls of Steel Australia was recently nominated for three of our “prestigious” Tumblies for its first series, but bravely fought off strong competition from Good News World and Live From Planet Earth. Its return earlier this week saw it serve up much more of the same low-brow prank-based “hilarity”.
British import Olivia Lee’s sketch saw her auditioning young men for a new reality show which would see them all living together in a house. A gay house. Cue a succession of uncomfortable straight guys being put in to pink singlets, and asked to gay it up with a male sex doll with an erect penis and a real life gay man. Next up was ageing game show legend “Baby” John Burgess, with a new quiz show in which the contestants found themselves answering questions in ways which demeaned them. Then there were two guys setting fire to toilet paper shoved up their arses, and the return of the hot chick stripping off in various shops concept…except this time it was nude twins.
The show’s presumed target audience of teenage males no doubt lapped it up, although in a slight surprise they voted the gay reality show prank as ballsier than the nude twins. It seems a hatred and fear of homosexuality is a more powerful force in a young man’s life than even two hot nude women. Actually that’s not much of a surprise at all, more hugely depressing.
In better news for humanity’s progress away from the primordial soup, anyone who saw this article in the Murdoch press on Tuesday, about how ACMA were investigating a Clarke & Dawe sketch from October which supposedly vilified Christians, needn’t worry. It’s all fine, and here’s a lovely Word document which explains why.
The complaint was made by Perth schoolteacher and BA in Theology Simon Smith, who told News.com.au:
You can clearly see that they are vilifying Christians as insensitive, callous and uncaring with clear inferences to the Opposition front bench and Tony Abbott, many [sic] who are Catholics.
I just sat there for a minute and I thought, they’ve really overstepped the mark.
I am a Christian and I classify myself as a cautious conservative.
ACMA ruled that the sketch, which in part explored the contradiction of Christian members of Parliament voting in favour of mandatory detention of asylum seekers, when the key tenants of their faith should see them voting against it, did not breach code 7.7 of the ABC Code of Practice 2011:
7.7 – Avoid the unjustified use of stereotypes or discriminatory content that could reasonably be interpreted as condoning or encouraging prejudice.
ACMA stated in their ruling that they did
not consider that the comments could reasonably be interpreted as condoning or encouraging prejudice against Christians. In this regard, the comments did not serve to urged [sic] or inflame viewers to form an unfavourable opinion or feeling towards Christians.
Thursday’s Clarke & Dawe sketch saw the pair explore the world of tabloid newspapers, non-stories and pointless audience engagement. It, more than the Parliament sketch, could be said to fall foul of code 7.7…probably, but that’s hardly the point. The weekly brilliance of Clarke & Dawe is that they find the right target and give it a going-over it won’t forget. Some irony and intelligence is required from the viewer, but at least most people, and ACMA, get the joke.
Monday Night Fever
We’re pretty quick to sink the boots in whenever an Australian television network screws up – what, you mean you haven’t seen the results of the 2011 Australian Tumbleweed Awards yet? – so it seems only fair that we be equally as prompt to give them the thumbs up when they get something right. In this case that network would be Channel Seven, and the thing they’ve done right is picking up Working Dog’s World Cup show Santo, Sam & Ed’s Cup Fever (now renamed Santo, Sam & Ed’s Sports Fever) after SBS said they couldn’t afford a weekly sports show. Really SBS? Fine. Just keep in mind that three guys and a desk is now out of SBS’s price range next time SBS reaches into their pocket for whatever Paul Fenech coughs up.
Not that we want to go hard on SBS here either, because this is the way TV comedy is supposed to work: people start out on a public broadcaster and once they hit their stride a commercial network swoops in and picks them up, thus clearing the way for the next round of new talent. Okay, the “new talent” here consists of Santo Cilauro (who’s been around for over twenty years with at least ten shows to his name), Ed Kavalee (two shows on commercial television in the last three years) and Sam Pang (well, he did have that failed history-based quiz show on SBS), but you know what we mean. And what we mean is, at least it’s not Roy & H.G.
Anyway, to the show itself: three guys behind a desk making ill-informed jokes about sport. Hurrah! Their previous SBS effort was more sketch heavy – and had more special guests appearing in those sketches – but this version still holds up comedy-wise thanks to the easy chemistry between the three. None of whom, it’s a relief to say, is an ex-sportsman, so the serious sports coverage comes second to a bunch of jokes about tennis players texting and hearing commentator John Newcomb speak “Japanese” gibberish (which delivered the first “Me no rikey” of the series).
The hour-long timeslot (up from half an hour on SBS) presumably makes sense for Seven – it’s a live show so running twice as long isn’t going to cost anywhere near twice as much – and while it may be a little on the long side a commercial TV hour is only really 40 minutes anyway so it’s not really like it wears out its welcome. This kind of show is always going to be a bit hit-and-miss when it comes to segments, but a montage of fluffed cricket fielding can still work so long as some decent riffing takes place over it (okay, it didn’t that time).
The real comedy highlight on first viewing is seeing Santo playing a real-life version of his old comedy sports commentator character The Colonel, which alone almost makes up for the fact there actually is a fair amount of sports information (shudder) here. Much of the early comedy in episode one came from pointing out how crap a lot of sports commentary is, which is pretty much an inexhaustible source of comedy, and Santo hasn’t lost any of his skill when it comes to wandering off into odd tangents. Taking a swipe at sports gambling and boring sportspeople’s tweets and My Kitchen Rules gets you points with us, while the guests…
Look, we all know much of the charm of this kind of show comes from the fact that it’s live and kind of ramshackle. Sometimes it’s going to bring up comedy gold, sometimes it’s going to be something you’re going to need to be a sports fan to watch, and sometimes it’s just not going to work. But the cast is strong, there’s a clear and inclusive sense of humour at work here – something you can’t say about the various footy shows – and the whole show doesn’t take itself seriously. Being able to cover all sports, not just soccer, should provide plenty of material (though it’ll be interesting to see what happens when the rugby & AFL starts) and going by the first episode even the guest segments stand a decent chance of working out.
Our advice? if you’re a comedy fan you can probably wander off once the first guest comes out. If you’re a fan of the cast, their love of sport shines through strongly enough to carry you through. And if you’re a sports fan… what do you care what we think?
Australian Tumbleweed Awards 2011 – Best Comedy
As always, the three nominees for Best Comedy have turned out to be three programs all but ignored by the Australian press. Not for them the weekly glowing reviews in the Green Guide that Laid got; no steady stream of cover features like the ones Chris Lilley enjoyed throughout the first half of the year. That’s because these three programs actually made people laugh; what kind of a hook is that to hang press coverage on? Far easier to base your value judgements on set design, or being written by a hipster, or featuring a man in a dress. Unfortunately, that does mean you end up largely ignoring comedies that are actually funny, but hey – it’s clearly a price the Australian media is willing to pay.
Well, this is a little embarrassing. It’s one thing for a first-time show to win Best New Comedy, but Best Comedy as well? Didn’t Tony Martin have a new television show out this year? It seems that being one of the few television comedies that put making people laugh front and centre has paid off for the Bazura team, as well it should. The Lonely Hearts Club was hilarious, but a low profile radio show was always going to struggle. The Joy of Sets quickly found its’ stride, but a wobbly start and a format that worked against Tony Martin’s natural strengths clearly put some voters offside. The Bazura Project just did everything right: funny, likeable, informative without lecturing or preaching, it turned out to be a near-perfect mix of smarts and stupidity. Whatever they’re up to next, we can’t wait to see it.
THAT CONCLUDES THIS YEAR’S PRESENTATION OF THE AUSTRALIAN TUMBLEWEEDS. KEEP FOLLOWING THIS BLOG FOR MORE COMMENTARY THROUGHOUT THE YEAR, AND DON’T FORGET TO FOLLOW US ON TWITTER OR LIKE US ON FACEBOOK.