Watching the ABC documentary Brilliant Creatures on Australian media figures Robert Hughes, Germaine Greer, Clive James and Barry Humphries, I’ll admit, I felt a little sad. Not just because art critic Robert Hughes is no longer with us or that writer Clive James is not long for this world.
The show also reminded me that those with rugged, robust and inquiring minds like the aforementioned foursome are rapidly disappearing from our media landscape. And they probably won’t be replaced.
As a kid I adored the subjects of Brilliant Creatures. Growing up in regional Australia there wasn’t much in the way of culture – and with no internet, I inhaled what I could of Robert Hughes’ writing and TV shows instead. He introduced me to the art of Australia and the world, and spoke about it in a way I could understand, encouraging me to look deeper.
I read Greer’s The Female Eunuch in high school and soon realised that her contribution to feminism had led to the opportunities I now had. James’s books and TV shows extended a hand to the likes of ignorant young me and helped me gain a broader view of the world. Humphries spoke of the suburbs in cities I hadn’t lived in and took the piss out of ordinary Australians in a way that was searing but funny, occasionally cruel, but oh so very astute.
This vigorous lot challenged the status quo at the time. Of course, this meant they weren’t always loved. But they didn’t seem to care too much that many Australians thought they were “up themselves”. They had a job to do. And in hindsight, their contribution to Australian culture has been significant. They didn’t always get it right, but their broader outlook certainly helped Australians move beyond an isolated island world view, encouraging us to appraise ourselves from the outside in.
Compared to those heady days, the current lay of the land looks pretty dire. Public figures are more likely to be applauded if they appear to be just like us. In this new age of TV, likeabillty is king, never mind that it’s dull.
On any given night there are multiple shows about people who renovate houses, just like us, where everyone says “maaaaate”. There are shows about people who cook, just like we all do at home, only slightly better. And there are shows about people who sing and who – just like us – started out singing in the shower. Cosy.
Watching TV around these parts sometimes feels like sitting in on a really boring conversation about buying and selling houses, or what to cook and how to cook it, all to a soundtrack of irrelevant old songs performed by what are essentially bad cover band singers. It’s no wonder the younger generation are deserting the TV in droves to seek out more interesting things online. The box has slim pickings in the way of ideas or science or art.
When the small screen and broader media only reflects back at us who we already are rather than challenging or educating us, surely we’re in a spot of bother? If Brilliant Creatures has a message, it’s that ruffling of feathers and robust viewpoints will be remembered. The rest is wallpaper. And currently, we’ve got plenty of that.
Australians are in danger of disappearing up their own self-reflexive, but thoughtfully designed and padded, backsides. Sadly we’re all too high on the paint fumes of home renovation to give much of a toss.
