Australian Tumbleweeds
It’s all just so meh
Australian comedy, particularly Australian comedy television, seem to be in one of its many “meh” phases. Angry Boys drags on and on, and newcomer Can of Worms (putting aside all the justly deserved criticism it received for the vast difference between what it promised and what it delivered) is equally dull television. Even Lawrence Leung’s Unbelievable, an entertaining and amusing comedy/documentary series looking at magic and the supernatural, is somewhat tainted by being yet another example of an over-used genre which dates back to at least the first half of the ’90s and Michael Moore’s TV Nation.
Unbelievable will be replaced in a couple of weeks by a show with roughly the same format, Judith Lucy’s Spiritual Journey, and while we understand that series is pretty good it’s kind of a shame that that style of show accounts for such a large proportion of the Australian scripted comedy TV made in recent times (the rest are mostly sitcoms). Where are the sketch shows, you might ask? Indeed, where are the shows which mess around with established genres, or aren’t simply one comedian’s personal take on an established genre.
In terms of the ABC we understand the problem is partly to do with budget. ABC comedy budgets these days don’t seem to be able to fund something as expensive as, say, a straight-out sketch show, so comedians are somewhat forced into doing stunts or documentary-style “investigations” – anything to keep sketches and scripted material to a minimum. Shows like Stewart Lee’s Comedy Vehicle or the Louis CK sitcom Louie, which both combine stand-up with scripted material, might provide an alternative to the endless documentary-style shows, but even then an Australian version of either concept is bound to draw criticism simply for being unoriginal (and we’re equally guilty of that, we bagged the Peter Moon series Whatever Happened To That Guy? for being a Curb Your Enthusiasm rip-off, but grew to love it).
But of course, the ABC’s always been plagued by low budgets, so at least we have the commercial networks to serve up the kind of big budget scripted comedy we’d all like to see. Oh, yeah… As to the reasons why, here’s what Network Ten’s Chief Programming Officer David Mott had to say to the TV Central podcast on that subject a year ago:
Interviewer: One, kind of, one area where there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of movement on the, I guess, the commercial networks is, ah, scripted comedy, is that something that Ten’s been looking in to?
Mott: Ah, I’d say all networks continue to look at narrative, er, scripted comedy, um, hard to get good writers, to be honest, um, that’s always been a big issue. And, um, you know, I would say that certainly when we look at the trends going forward you could say that maybe comedy can, sort of, come back. Sketch has always been a bit hard, everyone’s tried sketch, that can become quite subjective. Um, and again, it’s so dependent on the writing. So, we’d never say no to narrative, er, comedy, ah, it just depends on the form it takes. Certainly with the success of Modern Family, it says that, and certainly the sort of sentiment of, of, of people now, seems that they, they want to laugh, and they want comedy, so, um, you know, maybe in the next 18 months or so you might see something come up.
And as we continue to wait for that something (surely he didn’t mean Offspring?), let’s look at the key points in detail:
“…certainly when we look at the trends going forward you could say that maybe comedy can, sort of, come back…”
Comedy is a “trend”? In the same way that wearing the sorts of clothes your grandparents wore when they were your age is right now? This is a ridiculous statement. Comedy is an ever-present genre of entertainment in the same way that drama is. Would anyone seriously claim that drama is unfashionable?
“Certainly with the success of Modern Family, it says that, and certainly the sort of sentiment of, of, of people now, seems that they, they want to laugh, and they want comedy…”
So, comedy’s not unfashionable after all? And because some people are enjoying an American sitcom therefore a similar group of people might also enjoy an Australian comedy? Yep, that makes heaps of sense.
“…hard to get good writers, to be honest…”
This is actually fair enough. Australian TV comedy could really do with some stronger writers. Having said that, with the lack of opportunities to gain experience as a comedy writer these days it seems unlikely that enough decent ones will be developed. And this is something broadcasters seem not to be willing to accept as being potentially damaging to their industry in the long term: if you don’t invest in developing comedy writers through, say, a late night sketch show, you won’t have the opportunity to hire them to make prime time scripted comedy programmes when they’re sufficiently good.
“Sketch has always been a bit hard, everyone’s tried sketch, that can become quite subjective.”
This is interesting, and something we’ve been pondering for a while: are certain genres or styles of comedy too risky for ratings-hungry networks to dabble in these days? Why bother spending loads of money on scripted comedy that might not attract the mass audience when you can make a middle-of-the-road panel show that will? The fact that a decent scripted comedy could do an equally job doesn’t enter into it, presumably, but we’re back to the earlier point about good writing again.
Anyway, perhaps this explains why in recent years it’s only been the ABC, and to a lesser extent SBS, who have had any ongoing commitment to scripted comedy: ratings matter less there. And why in commercial radio any shows with a comedy focus (as opposed to a mindless yammer focus) have been either axed (Get This), shunted off to a late-night slot (The Sweetest Plum) or not commissioned at all (countless). Amongst programmers and executives it seems that comedy is seen as something which stopped being fashionable or desirable at some point, and something they have no interest in making it involves even the slightest risk or investment. Which means heaps more panel shows – and that’s the bad news!
It’s Political Correctness Gone Mad!!
It’s been a grim few days for comedy in Australia. Okay, it’s been a grim few years. But this last week has been especially bad for those who think that comedy is an area best left up to comedians. First there was the long-awaited verdict in the Mick Molloy / Before the Game trial, in which a one-time political candidate sued Channel Ten over a comment – we’d call it a joke, but clearly the court didn’t agree – that Molloy made on the show. Short version: the plaintiff won, comedy lost.
Whatever you think of the content of the comment (Mick unsurprisingly seems somewhat contrite), it’s hard to put a positive spin on the result if you’re on the side of comedy. Having a politician sue and win over a joke can’t help but have a cooling effect on the kind of jokes that get made, and if you think our politicians (as the AAP report said, “she told the court she still had political ambitions”) should be made less fun of, well, move along folks, nothing to see here.
At the other end of the scale this week came a story on The Vine.com where a writer showed clips of Chris Lilley’s S.mouse character to various US-based hip hop artists for their opinion. News flash: they weren’t impressed.
This story’s been getting some fairly serious coverage in the last few days – it was on the cover of Melbourne’s free commuter newspaper MX, and The Age (owned by Fairfax, who also own The Vine) gave it a run in their print edition. While the story itself is certainly interesting reading, the wider coverage has tended to be focused more on the fact that the artists who responded weren’t impressed. To which all we can say is “Duh”.
Is anyone impressed with S.mouse? Do we really need hip hop artists to tell us S.mouse is a two dimensional, superficial character taking broad and inaccurate swipes at a form of music generally dismissed by mainstream culture – in short, a dull character taking swings at an easy target?
If the targets of Lilley’s kak-handed efforts are to be the new judges of his work, why not speak to Japanese single mothers and ask them if Jen Okasaki is accurate? Or call up a few Bra Boys and see what they think of Blake Oldfield? Lilley’s attempted “satire” is no less pointed in their direction. What about We Can Be Heroes’ Ricky Wong? Surely it wouldn’t have been too hard to find some Asians offended by him? Oh wait, he was funny, so it was okay.
This isn’t a defense of S.mouse. He’s probably the weakest character of a fairly weak bunch. But he’s not a racist blackface caricature either. He’s a specific individual that happens to be black, in the same way that Okasaki is a character, not a generic “Asian”. Of course, you could argue that ‘shit & clueless black rapper’ is itself a racist stereotype (surely if Lilley only wanted to make fun of hip-hop there’s been plenty of lame white rappers), but that’s what Lilley does. He works with stereotypes: whether you think he goes beyond that to find the truth in them is a matter of personal taste (we don’t).
The fact that The Vine has to go to the US to find someone offended by Lilley’s act pretty much says it all. While this whole thing seems the kind of development that once again closes off options to comedians (you can’t make fun of this particular group – look how offended they get!), the actual story shows that their offense is at least as much about how lazy and unfunny it is as it is about any offense caused.
More importantly, any publicity is good publicity when you’re sinking in the ratings. It seems doubtful that anyone at the ABC would be unhappy with this coverage – it’s getting Angry Boys in the papers and making it sound edgy and controversial on top of it. Which, come to think of it, may be a bad result for comedy after all…
The dog throws us a bone
The second episode of Wilfred (US) took a turn for the better this week with Wilfred’s passive/aggressive bullying of Ryan toned down a lot, and the show generally feeling more like a reluctant buddy comedy. From The Odd Couple to Red Dwarf to Mother & Son, countless sitcoms have generated laughs from begrudging respect and forced interaction, and guess what, so did this one.
In this episode (and now’s the time to get out of here if you don’t want spoilers) Ryan decides that the best way to get to hot next door neighbour Jenna is through Wilfred, so when Jenna complains that Wilfred won’t go to the dentist with her Ryan eagerly volunteers to take on the task, tricking Wilfred into believing that the two of them are going to have a fun day at the movies. But upon discovering Ryan’s trick, Wilfred takes revenge by ruining any chance Ryan has of wooing Jenna. And then to cap it all off, Jenna’s boyfriend appears. Roll credits.
This show isn’t going to win any awards for originality – this is all standard sitcom plotting – or indeed for hilarity (although this episode was a lot funnier than last week’s), but now that the premise is actually one that you can laugh at, it’s looking like this show could be a reasonable second-tier sitcom.
It’s also interesting to note that all the things that were wrong with the Zwar/Gann original – the characters and premise that didn’t really work, the oppressive darkness of tone, the lack of gags – have mostly been fixed in just two episodes. No wonder TV fans in this country are constantly forsaking local product for US shows; American writers can make anything work.
Dicko Tench Tonight
“Bogans! Scum of the Earth or YOU!! Find out tonight!”
(and now that we have your attention…)
There’s been a long-term trend in program making over the last half decade or so of taking the risk out of live (or the more common, “live-on-tape”) television. In much the same way that Thank God You’re Here took all the danger – and with it, the interest – out of theatresports by locking down the improv to just one topic and not letting anyone deviate from it, so does Can of Worms lock down the good old panel chat format by giving out topics and making sure the guests only talk about them.
While this seems like a good method of quality control – less chance of the conversation wandering off into boring areas – in reality it means that to tune in, viewers have to be interested in not one but two things: the guests and the topics discussed. You’ve got Craig Reucassel on? Sweet! Oh wait, you’ve got Craig on and he’s going to be talking about whether it’s an insult to call people bogans? Well, I dunno… is he going to be telling funny stories? Talking about stuff he knows something about? No… just bogans then… huh.
Don’t worry though, it’s not like your favourite celebrities are actually being put on the spot here – well, not unless “do you think the view that black men have huge penises is racist” is putting anyone on the spot. Despite a segment titled “The Moral Minefield”, pretty much all the tough questions here are roughly on par with your average breakfast radio shit-stirring session. Looks like we can thank the Andrew Denton who gave us David Tench Tonight for this one.
So what we get is a bunch of piss-weak, middle-of-the-road topics served up to a bunch of B-grade celebrities who can’t really let loose. And then, just when you’re about to nod off, suddenly we get “we’ve got to keep an eye on our kids on the internet OR CYBERBULLIES WILL KILL THEM AMIRITE?!?” as we hear about Jason Akermanis being on the brink of suicide when he was 15. It’s the show where anything can happen!
Actually, obviously it’s not: considering the point of the show seems to largely be the chance to see your fave B-listers opening up, why is the show so heavily – and obviously – edited? We’re not technical experts, but even we can spot the many, many edits, often taking place in the middle of people’s replies. No doubt they’re done to keep things ticking along, but when the show’s selling point is that the guests are speaking freely on the issues, the heavy hand of the producers kind of undercuts the “they’ll say anything” approach. Not to mention defeating the purpose of keeping everyone to pre-determined topics – if you’re going to edit it down afterwards, why not let them just waffle on about anything and keep the good bits?
The most interesting thing about this show – conceptually, not actually – is the heavy use of survey results and vox pops (look, it’s Dan Illic! Does the man ever sleep?). The idea of a show that’s basically holding a mirror up to (multicultural) society and saying “this is what you think on this topic – or is it?” seems pretty cutting edge in this social media age – until you remember that was basically the idea behind the late, utterly unlamented Spearman Experiment...
The worm in the apple
Premiering tonight is Can of Worms, a new comedy panel show from Zapruder’s Other Films. In recent years Zapruder’s has earned a reputation for making intelligent, edgy television – The Gruen Transfer, one of their best known productions, is often talked of in reverential tones – so unsurprisingly, Gruen fans are positively panting with excitement about Can of Worms, which was described in a press release (issued by Channel 10 in November) as “an original and controversial concept”, in which a panel of famous faces will tackle some of life’s curliest questions, throwing political correctness to the winds and giving topical issues a good old shit-stir.
It already sounds ten times more intelligent and interesting than any locally-made comedy panel show out there, right? Well, sorry to pre-emptively rain on the parade but, we suspect not. Not when Dicko’s been doing the rounds, talking up the show by stressing that “unlike Q&A, you don’t have to be an expert or read the broadsheets” to enjoy it, and that politics will be off the menu entirely, leaving the show free to take on the real issues, like “Is it racist to assume that black men have big penises?” or “Is it wrong to come to a fancy dress party dressed as Hitler?” (The Hot Breakfast, Triple M Melbourne, 30th June 2011).
The subtext here is: “Don’t be put off proles, this isn’t the sort of hoity toity, intellectual affair you get on the ABC”, something which should annoy all the Q&A fans on Twitter who’ve been talking up Can of Worms as the next great, intelligent Australian comedy, although it probably won’t be (looks like you can shit on what will probably turn out to be one of your key demographics after all!).
Anyway, the pseudo-edginess that will no doubt characterise this show is somewhat confirmed by the panel, who in the first episode are comedian, broadcaster and panel show veteran George McEncroe, and supposedly controversial media figures Jason Akermanis and Craig Reucassel. OK, Akermanis genuinely is controversial, but hardly in a good way: isn’t advising gay footballers to stay in the closet so they don’t upset team harmony the equivalent of suggesting that African immigrants should stay off the streets so they don’t upset white racists? It’s hard to see how his insights into black men’s penises and dressing as Hitler are going to take the debate forward, or be funny, when he seems to think that the victims of prejudice are the ones who need to change their behaviour.
Oh well, at least the Murdoch press will love him. In a recent article on News.com.au Can of Worms was talked-up as “bringing healthy debate back to public discussion”, because “the whole English language has become a complete minefield because of political correctness”. “Dickson blames the slide on everything from the legal system to HR in the workplace and the currency of outrage in the media”, the article continues, stoking its reader’s prejudices about how political correctness and so-called human rights have destroyed everything ever with robotic precision.
Not that the Sydney Morning Herald didn’t have a bloody good crack at pandering to their audience’s ideology too: “Out in the world, the discourse is non-existent,” he [Dickson] says. “It’s all froth and spittle from the AM shock jocks and morning guys who try to fire up battlers on issues they think they should be offended about. But you can have a more calm, reasoned approach to stuff”, the article continues.
So something for everyone in Can of Worms, and an almost complete guarantee that at least one side of the media are going to whip up some pointless outrage about something said in the show, when the real issue is likely to be that serious, interesting and potentially amusing issues, like people’s attitudes to race, are being debated through the prism of crap jokes and patronising topics involving party costumes.
Oh, and if that doesn’t make you think that the hype surrounding this show is a little unjustified, Dicko’s sidekick will be loud-mouth “comedian” Meshel Laurie, Friend of the Tumblies Dan Ilic will be a Reporter on the show (according to rumour he’s making some sketches), and the writing team includes Michael Chamberlin, best known for The Mansion. Strap yourselves in folks, this looks set to be yet another comedy that doesn’t deliver.
Why We Fight II: In Which We See Enemies All Around Us
In today’s Age (Saturday July 2nd), TV columnist Ben Pobjie puts forward an argument no-one in their right mind would disagree with. So here goes.
But first, let’s let the man himself speak:
TASTE is a funny thing. Not ”funny ha-ha”, more ”funny you’re stupid and I hate you”. When I write about TV, I’m writing about matters of taste: opinion, personal preference, purely subjective judgments. There isn’t any ”good” or ”bad”, or ”right” or ”wrong”; there’s just ”what I like” and ”what I don’t like”. There’s no objective standard in TV, no absolute truth. Everyone can agree on this.
Ha ha! Just kidding! Nobody can agree on this. Everyone will say they agree on it, right up until someone else tells them what shows they like and then, like Buffy and that super-vampire thing in season seven, it is on. The argument will ignite and in a surprisingly high proportion of cases, it will be about season seven of Buffy.
Like we said, no-one in their right mind would disagree with this kind of thing. After all, it’s just television. Problem is, if this is what you believe, why would you bother… ah, we’ll get to that later. Let’s continue to the bit relevant to us today – and yes, it involves Angry Boys:
People are passionate about television. Are they as passionate about politics? Religion? Their own children? Try announcing you like Matt Smith’s Doctor (Doctor Who) better than David Tennant’s. Tell someone whose favourite show is The Wire that your favourite show is Jersey Shore. Claim that Angry Boys made you laugh/cry/throw shoes/long for the good old days of Benny Hill. You will find yourself in a world of trouble.
As we ourselves found when in this post we discussed an on-line review written by Steve Molk. Molk is twitter buddies with Pobjie and sent a few tweets back’n forth on the topic, prompting this tweet from Pobjie:
my pet hate: people who tell you: if you like this show, you’re wrong. Which is what that piece is (June 10, 2011)
Guess he missed this part of our post:
Suffice to say that currently we’re in the best of all possible worlds when it comes to the world of Chris Lilley: there’s no clear-cut consensus as to how we’re all supposed to be thinking.
Anyway, our bitchiness and self-obsession aside… oh wait, he’s got more to say about Angry Boys:
Because when someone develops an opinion about TV, nothing is a matter of taste. Everything is a matter of ironclad, indisputable, extremely obnoxious fact.
Take comedy Angry Boys, for example, or something similarly divisive, such as South Park or Everybody Loves Raymond. If such a show doesn’t make you laugh, it is difficult to resist the instinct to split the world into People Who Agree With Me and People Who Are Idiots. Our rational brains might know that ”That’s not funny” is just shorthand for ”that does not trigger the idiosyncratic response in my individual brain that results in laughter”. But our irrational brains, which are larger and more aggressive, tell us that we are right and we must come up with convincing and loud reasons. And that’s how people who do laugh at those shows receive lectures along the lines of: ”You don’t really like that show. You think you like it because you’ve been hoodwinked by media hype and it’s politically correct and you think this is the sort of show you’re supposed to like. But actually, you hate it, like me, because it’s a bad show, so how could you not hate it?” It can get seriously ugly.
Or, you know, it could just be a discussion about the show in which some people tend to disagree with you. Hey, if you want to keep things light and fluffy and agree to disagree, no-one’s saying you can’t. Oh wait, yes they are: YOU WRITE A TELEVISION REVIEW COLUMN.
Pobjie is completely, totally, 100% right here: when it comes to arguing about things people feel passionate about, it can get seriously ugly. That’s because it involves people who actually care about the subject under discussion.
Put another way, can anyone image a sports* columnist writing a column in which he or she said “when someone develops an opinion about football, nothing is a matter of taste. Everything is a matter of ironclad, indisputable, extremely obnoxious fact”. You’d be buried under an avalanche of emails saying one thing: “Duh”. And then you’d be fired, because of this kind of guff:
When we hear that others don’t share our tastes, we get defensive, our fur stands on end and we hiss angrily at those who shake our faith in our own good taste.
Which is an insult to anyone who actually – foolishly – not only gives a crap about sport – or television, or politics, or pretty much anything – but expects a columnist in a major newspaper to give a crap too. Shit, most columnists have built their entire careers around getting half the people out there to feel exactly that way: it’d probably come as quite a surprise to some at The Age to read that one of their columnists thinks getting readers worked up is A Bad Thing.
As for this bit from a fictional Angry Boys hater:
”You don’t really like that show. You think you like it because you’ve been hoodwinked by media hype and it’s politically correct and you think this is the sort of show you’re supposed to like. But actually, you hate it, like me, because it’s a bad show, so how could you not hate it?”
Yeah, we’d hate that too. And we’ve actually argued against that kind of lazy criticism before, so clearly Pobjie wasn’t talking about us with that crack, right?
Our completely unfounded and somewhat needy paranoia aside, we don’t doubt for a single solitary second that Angry Boys fans enjoy the show. We’d just like them to explain why without falling back on cliches that are wobbly at best and untrue at worst.
After all, we’re not talking about having a chat with people down the office about a television show. We’re talking about professionals writing thought-out pieces for major newspapers. Pobjie is totally right to say arguing over television is pointless and ugly – when you’re doing it down the pub. When you’re actually writing about television, it’s your job.
Not that Pobjie would agree. This is his final argument:
It’s only TV, after all – it’s important but it doesn’t matter.
An attitude which can be reasonably extended to cover roughly 85% of Western Civilisation and 99% of issues covered in The Age. So this is a man who’s just written that the sole reason for him being in the paper “doesn’t matter”? Sorry, we didn’t realise we were reading his farewell column.
But back to Angry Boys. When the strongest comments coming out supporting a show are talking about an “outrage” that doesn’t exist, or the way its characters are edgy – despite being the same kind of thing Lilley’s been dishing up since 2005 – and realistic (S.mouse is realistic?), forgive us our shrillness but it’s hard for us not to wonder what is it people are laughing at. Especially when those who aren’t laughing so hard can come up with intelligent, thoughtful reviews like this one:
The reason Angry Boys keeps being accused of ‘juvenile nonsense’ is because Chris Lilley is scared to commit to anything serious. Gran revealing that she’s suffering from Alzheimer’s is proof that Lilley cares about these characters and wants to be taken seriously, but remember who she reveals this information too? The dog wanker. The kid who has just been given an eighteen month sentence for masturbating a dog. It’s as if Lilley is terrified that all the fifteen year olds in the audience will turn off unless there’s a dick or fart joke around. This is the same as in Blake’s story which takes a dramatic twist when he gets arrested for the murder of the man who shot off Blake’s balls, because remember Blake has no balls, remember how he has no balls, isn’t that funny how he has no balls.
Which certainly doesn’t read like “You think you like it because you’ve been hoodwinked by media hype and it’s politically correct and you think this is the sort of show you’re supposed to like” to us.
If you think Angry Boys is a great show, that’s awesome: surely then you’d be falling all over yourselves to let us in on the joke. Perhaps you’re seeing something there that we don’t, and we – along with the ever-growing number of viewers who’ve clearly given up on the show – would love to know what it is. But this whole “its just a matter of taste” thing is lazy writing and even lazier criticism. Music reviewers can’t get away with simply writing “it made me dance”, film reviewers can’t get away with “it made me cry”. Why should TV critics get away with “it made me laugh”?
*Yes, we know sports have verified winners & losers. Good luck explaining that to a supporter who thinks a dodgy umpiring decision cost their side the match in the dying seconds
Up Next: Media Watch Covers The Same Old Crap Yet Again
No sooner did we dump our latest load of Chris Lilley snark on an unsuspecting internet – seriously folks, GRAN HAZ ALZHEIMER I’M GOING TO CREY – then The Age‘s Green Guide came out with their “50 Things We Like About TV” list and… well, you can probably guess the rest. So now, the rest:
Anger at Angry Boys
THE outrage that has erupted in the media over Chris Lilley’s darkest comedy series, about a group of young men about to crack under adult-imposed pressures, is almost as amusing as the show itself. Offended by dick jokes, unsavoury rooting scenarios and coarse language, Lilley’s critics have slammed the series as gratuitously rude and, what’s worse, unfunny. Perhaps expecting the more obvious humour of some of his previous work, they have missed the beauty of Angry Boys, which is a searingly honest take on some deluded personalities that are frequently funny but ultimately scary, simply because they are everywhere.See also Wilfred
We’ve said it before countless times, but here we go again: for there to be an outrage, you first have to have someone being outraged. And much like actual comedy, as far as Chris Lilley’s concerned it just ain’t happening.
Before you say that there must be someone outraged out there somewhere – the show’s full of dick jokes for God’s sake – who would know better than us? We’ve been looking for negative reviews and quotes regarding Angry Boys for two solid months now, and apart from a thin smattering of “it’s not very funny, is it” reviews and one riled up spray in The Age itself, which hardly counts – it’s from a columnist, and those poor bastards have to come up with new crap to whinge about every single week – this “outrage” has noticeably failed to “erupt”.
[We won’t argue or deny that this outrage “is almost as amusing as the show itself”, mind you; comparing one non-existent thing to another is as good a way to sum up the laughs in Angry Boys as any.]
But seriously: if you’re saying that seeing people get riled up in the press about a show is almost as funny as the show itself, then aren’t you basically saying the show itself isn’t all that funny? Especially when NO-ONE IS ACTUALLY GETTING RILED UP? (apart from us, and if you’re counting us in “the media” you’ve got to be kidding)
Next: who the fuck is offended by anything going on in Angry Boys? To use the old interview tactic, if so many people are being offended, “name three”. Bored by the endless dick and ball and shit and piss jokes, yes. Offended? C’mon. This is the third time around for Lilley and his last show Summer Heights High was a massive hit: nobody drawing breath in this country didn’t know exactly what this was going to be like going in. And just in case they didn’t, the media ran plenty of bullshit beat-up stories warning them. If people actually were being offended, the only possible news angle would be “Australians Too Stupid To Realise Offensive Show May Offend”.
Then there’s this line: “Perhaps expecting the more obvious humour of some of his previous work…” So remind us: considering Angry Boys has featured a): an episode where Nathan & Daniel spent the entire time trying to urinate on each other, b): surfer Blake Oldfield, who had his balls shot off and keeps asking whether he should get fake ball replacements, c): S.mouse singing “Grandmotherfucker” and “Big Black Balls”, making a music video where he shits on a police car, and singing a anti-pedophile song titled “Hot Children” to a bunch of primary school children, d): Jen Okazaki peddling a penis-shaped bottle of a fragrance called “Gayness” and saying things like “look at the balls on that guy – go to your room if you want to jerk off, ‘kay?”, and e): kindly old racist Gran telling a prison inmate that she has Alzheimers, at what stage did you decide that Angry Boys was more subtle and restrained than Lilley’s previous work?
As for the “they are everywhere” line… well, that’s Bullshit 101, isn’t it. “Okay, the show isn’t funny, and it’s not really working as a drama, but it’s still must-see television because it’s a warning – these people are everywhere!!!” Really. Everywhere, you say. Okay then, who do you know who is even remotely like S.mouse? Or Gran? Or Jen? “Oh no,” say the supporters, “we didn’t mean they were exactly like them – more that it’s a window into a world of self-obsession and delusion that… ah fuck it, we give up, there are hundreds of more realistic portraits of self-obsession and delusion out there, and they’re usually way funnier too.” Face it: if you’re calling a show where a stage mum has a weight-loss technique called The Fart Method “searingly honest”, maybe you need to rethink your argument just a little.
Let’s be clear here: we don’t want you to agree with us. We don’t really care what you think about Angry Boys at this stage – the jury is well and truly in, the verdict’s been handed over, and the suppression orders have been lifted so say whatever the hell you want to. But would it hurt you to at least sit down and watch an episode of the show before writing the same old tired, based-on-nothing cliches?
Comedy = Tragedy + A Cheap Wig
Let’s do a little basic math. The average episode length for an Australian comedy series – on the ABC at least – is six episodes. Once or twice a year there’ll be an eight-episode series, but that’s it. So if you were making a television series, you’d want your intentions (and the level of quality) to be clear by episode two or three at the very latest, right?
Meanwhile, over at the Herald-Sun, TV writer Cameron Adams has this to say about episode eight of Angry Boys:
“Plenty of scrotal humour from Chris Lilley tonight in this divisive comedy. Offensive? Misunderstood? Shark jumper? The jury is still out.”
The show is two-thirds done. It’s already run as long as any other scripted ABC comedy series of the last five years. And the jury “is still out”? Oh, fuck off.
Here’s another cliche for you. The episode Adams is talking about features teens in a clumsily choreographed musical number performed to a comedy song Lilley wrote. It’s the same scene that’s appeared in every other one of Lilley’s series. Isn’t it possible that, by using the same material over and over, Lilley has instead “worn out his welcome”.
To be fair, when Adams goes on to say “this series has been patchy”, he’s right. When Lilley wheels out the revelation that Gran has Alzheimers – yes, really, we’re not joking, she has a degenerative brain disease oh ho ho ho – the joke-free patches look set to expand until by the tear-jerking finale there’ll be nothing left to laugh at (intentionally or not) at all.
So the hilarity of Grans’ tough-love looks set to be replaced with a more potty-mouthed version of Mother & Son. But that still leaves five other characters yet to have horrible things happen to them for the heart-rending conclusion. Will that ball-less surfer go to jail and lose his family? Will Nathan be mangled by an oncoming car he doesn’t hear coming? Will S.mouse… just die already?
The reason why the endings of the second series of The Office (UK) and Blackadder Goes Forth (to quote the two most obvious examples of comedy series veering into drama at the last minute) worked – as much as they did, which we’d suggest wasn’t all that much – was because they came as a surprise after six solid episodes of non-stop comedy. The kind of crap Lilley is puling here, where character after character ham-fistedly hints at tragic depths more suited to a bad episode of an afterschool teen soapie, does not.
Presumably when Adams wrote about this episode that “we finally start to see some of the genuine emotion Lilley injects to balance out his genital jokes”, Gran’s illness is what he was referring to. “Genuine emotion”? By giving a cartoon character in a genital-obsessed comedy Alzheimers? Man, we’d hate to see what a “cheap hackneyed stunt” looks like…
Mad, bad and unfunny to know
As a sitcom, the original version of Wilfred never really quite worked. Chief amongst the problems was this: if you expect audiences to suspend their disbelief when it comes to such logic flaws as “Why is Adam the only one who can talk to Wilfred?” and “Why does Adam put up with both his bitch girlfriend and her pain in the arse mutt?” you should reward them with lots of laughs. It’s one of the principles of comedy: you can get away with anything, no matter how outrageous or ridiculous, if it’s funny; but if no one laughs you’re sunk.
Clearly the US remakers spotted this flaw with the original programme, so have introduced a little logic to the premise – protagonist Ryan, in his depressed and suicidal state, could be seeing things, or mentally ill, or something like that. In fact it’s all a bit Fight Club, with Wilfred playing a sort of psychopathic alter ego to Ryan, who both drives him crazy and allows him to live his dreams. You should be able to get some dark comedy out of that idea, right?
Well, no. We’ve only seen episode 1 so far (thanks, internet!), but Wilfred US seems like the same almost laugh-free zone that the Zwar/Gann original was. There’s only so dark you can make a sitcom before it becomes a psychological horror film, where you’re screaming at the protagonist to get the hell out of there before it gets too bad. We can only hope this somehow turns out to be funny, although it’s hard to image how.
Give A Dog A Bone
With Angry Boys turning out to be the stinker we’ve been predicting since 2009, the nation’s focus has started to shift to…
– sorry, you though this was another Angry Boys gripe-session? Don’t worry, we’ll let you know when we start our serious “hate to say I told you so” singalong for Lilley’s latest effort. In the meantime, why not enjoy the sight of The Age (which has been loving on Lilley since 2005 without pause or breath) being forced to consider the idea that Angry Boys just might not be any good. And even then, they have to provide “balance” by making sure to enclude “for” and “against” – clearly just running an “gee, maybe it’s not that good” story is beyond them. Especially as then they might have to explain why they thought it was going to be amazing in the first place.
Anyway, the focus has started to shift to the next big hope in Australian comedy: a US import. That’s right, things are so grim at the moment that the immanent arrival of the US remake of Wilfred – a SBS sitcom not exactly watched by millions – is news is a way that the US remakes of, say, Kath & Kim or Sit Down Shut Up never were.
We’re generally of the opinion that the more attention comedy gets the better, so this in itself isn’t a bad thing to us. It may be an increasingly funny thing to us if the show tanks in the US, as Australia is getting it at roughly the same time so there’s zero buffer for Ten (who is showing it here) if the US pulls the plug. But having it promoted? Fine with us. Especially as it largely involves Jason Gann yammering away about his big plans for making it big, which is always fun. Take this choice quote:
“Because I played two very identifiable characters in Australia, it was difficult for me to start anything new; I was almost a prisoner to my character,”
What, he was a guy in a dog suit in a show hardly anyone saw and a mumbling sportsman on two shows almost no-one watched? We’re not talking Garry McDonald trying to escape Norman Gunston here. We’re not even talking Garry McDonald trying to escape that guy he played in Love is a Four Letter Word. Oh, unless Gann means he was a prisoner to his actual, non-acting character. Guess he must mean his series of assault charges. Yeah, that could make it difficult for him to start something new.
Anyway, what is interesting in a non-tabloid way about this new Wilfred is the way it’s being promoted. If you remember the original, it was the product of a writing / creative team: Gann (who also played Wilfred the dog) and Adam Zwar (who also played the gormless victim of Wilfred’s surly, bong-smoking torments). Gann went to the US to further his career after his mockumentary Mark Loves Sharon fizzled, while Zwar stayed in Australia to write for everything under the sun including his own ABC series Lowdown. Gann took Wilfred with him to the US and is reprising his role for the remake. Zwar, as far as the remake is concerned, has been erased from the history books.
In pretty much all the articles we’ve seen, Zwar doesn’t get a look-in. We’re not talking about television interviews with Gann: even the print articles on the new version are blanking him. Worse, the official press release doesn’t mention him (even Renegade Films Australia, who produced the original series, get a listing as executive producers). In fact, Jason Gann’s complete credits are “[playing] Wilfred / created by / co-executive producer”.
It’s kind of obvious that Zwar and Gann aren’t working together and may never work together again: whether they just grew apart or this is another “funnyman feud” we don’t know. And we know absolutely nothing about the behind-the-scenes wheelings and dealings here, apart from reading a couple of articles where it’s said that Zwar gave Wilfred to Gann with his blessing – we don’t even know if money changed hands between the two, though you’d like to think so as there’d have to have been a bit of coin thrown around by the US production companies at some stage.
What we do know is that Wilfred was based on a short film made by Gann and Zwar, who’d been working together as team for a fair while. They made a feature length film together (Rats & Cats) and they were both hired to work on a sketch show (The Wedge) prior to Wilfred getting up on SBS. If the US version was completely brand new and its own unique creation, that’s one thing. But it’s not. It’s based on an Australian show made by two people working together, and – to us at least – it feels a little unfair that the other half of the team is being airbrushed out of the picture.