The Royal We

It’s good to see the ‘Daily Mail’ still don’t miss a trick. Amongst the feverish but mostly apathetic reaction to Prince William’s engagement to Kate Middleton, the paper went with the headline ‘…William Proposes to Kate Middleton with Diana’s Ring’. This was the bugbear behind most of the tabloids, a mixture of hysteria and outrage. In Australia - a Commonwealth country still ruled by monarchy, one that continued singing ’God Save the Queen’ until 1984 - reaction was best surmised by an email to the ABC Breakfast News: “Who are they?” the viewer asked, “are they some kind of soap stars?”

That’s actually quite accurate, given the regurgitating, voyeuristic column inches that we can now look forward to well into next year when the couple do finally tie the knot. The royal family are no more than a soap opera anyway: divorce, death, delinquent youth, an embarrassing granddad and a Queen played by Helen Mirren. Unelected, their antiquated role is questionable even in Britain, but here in Australia, opinions are understandably more divisive.

Although a referendum was last held in 1999 to establish a republic to replace the Queen, the No vote won by almost 55%. That’s hardly emphatic, but you do wonder how far this would swing today, where general indifference from a new generation of Australians is rife, spearheaded by a political elite desperate for change. Here’s what Ms Gillard has to say on the matter: “I think the appropriate time for this nation to move to be a republic is when we see the monarch change.” Queen Julia I, anyone?

Despite all of this, our paper still spent most of Wednesday trying to track down an engaged Brisbane couple called Kate and William in that slightly mind-addled way that community newspapers try to localise an international story. This is a common practice that you’re probably already familiar with; lets recall the launch of ’Desperate Housewives’ where reporters commonly found a street that sounded a bit like Wisteria Lane and four local dour-looking plebs to discuss how similar they were to the show’s fictionalised characters, next to images of Maureen from Barrow pruning her rosebush. The paper's task is ultimately pointless, yes, but somewhat indicative of the royal presence that still permeates the country.

Toxic Math is celebrating six months down under - the half way point, in legal terms. On such an anniversary, it seems appropriate to be unashamedly self-indulgent. So here is what TM has learnt so far…

- Wannabe rock stars can be real rock stars, re: Altiyan Childs
- Surfer’s Paradise has two condom shops
- Wyatt Roy, Australia’s youngest elected politician, is 20 years old
- The average length of time refugees spend in an Australian detention centre is one year
- There are only 400 grey nurse sharks left in Australian waters
- Didgeridoo is not an Aboriginal word
- Aussie Rules is played on a cricket pitch
- There are over 200 million European rabbits in Australia
- Most Australian meals come with sweet corn, beetroot or avocado 
- It is legal to shoot kangaroos
- The venom of a blue ringed octopus can kill within minutes
- Thongs are sandals; togs are swimming shorts
- The state of Queensland is the size of Western Europe


AU Tube: Understanding Australian TV
‘We Can Be Heroes: Finding the Australian of the Year’ (ABC1)

Chris Lilley is one of my favourite Australian comedic performers, famed for his observations on all aspects of the country’s population through characters which transcend both sex and culture. His characters are so well nuanced and accurate that it is difficult to locate any trace of the real Chris Lilley, like Sacha Baron Cohen before him, and given his TV absence since the international success of his 2007 mockumentary series ‘Summer Heights High’ - set solely within the confines of an Australian high school and with Lilley playing all three central characters - his subsequent silence only acts to highlight his notoriety.

In ‘Summer Heights High’, one of Lilley’s characters is a rebellious islander student named Jonah, whose disruptive antics may make him the class clown (scrawling a penis on school property and break dancing at lunch time), but only act to highlight the deficiencies in the school’s teaching methods, from teachers who both attack and sympathise with the problem child. The breakdown results in Jonah’s reluctant expulsion and his emotive departure from perhaps his only true beacon of hope. It quickly becomes apparent that these are not just cheap pot-shots exploiting the most obvious stereotypes, but rather Lilley underpins his work with a sensitivity that matches the show’s realism.

‘Summer Heights High’ also introduced the flamboyant, narcissistic Director of Performing Arts Mr G, who turns the school play into an autobiographical musical, while Lilley is creepily accurate as privileged, public schoolgirl Ja’mie, who launches an appeal to raise money for charity only to fund a school fashion show.

Ja’mie appears in this, Lilley’s first breakthrough series from 2005 currently enjoying a repeat run on the ABC network, and is very much the precursor to his ‘Summer Heights High’ series. Here, his characters are spread across the country with the unifying theme of qualifying for the country’s Australian of the Year competition. This, of course, brings out the worst in Ja’mie, who holds the national record for sponsoring 85 Sudanese children through ‘Global Vision’ and has become the face of the organisation, only to flip out when the posters come back and she complains about looking too fat.

There are shades of Jonah in country twins Daniel and Nathan Sims, who donates an ear drum to his deaf brother and only agrees to go to the finals in Canberra because it is the only state where you can legally buy porn. While Lilley adds stark depth to Perth woman Pat Mullins, who dies of liver cancer before the finals. With one leg shorter than the other, she spends the series training for a sponsored roll from Perth to Uluru.

For all our sakes, lets hope that Lilley comes back singing, dancing and rolling soon.