australian television information archive

Kimmoy and co have a laugh

"Pretty and comedy don't go together," says Gina Riley, working towards an answer to one of Australia's most baffling cultural questions. "And Sydney," she concludes, confident that empiricism will support her thesis, "is pretty."

Thus the harbour city stands, condemned by its own beauty, a shrill and shallow place accustomed to getting by on its sheer good looks. For Australia's comedians, more often than not, Sydney is the city they have a fling with, but Melbourne is the city they marry.

"Melbourne. We just do better comedy," said Riley. "I'm sorry, but there it is. We do."

Opinions are sharply divided on that matter just at the moment, with the subject of the debate being Kath & Kim, the ABC comedy series written, produced and performed by Riley and her long-time collaborator, Jane Turner.

Again, empiricism in the form of very strong ratings supports the contention that the show is another in a long line of Melbourne-generated comedy successes. On the other hand, not all voices have been raised in praise. "A barrage of witless cliches about the supposed cluelessness of outer suburbanites," thundered one Green Guide letter-writer last week from the outer suburb of Richmond, "and members of Melbourne's comedy mafia popping by to try to breathe life into a dying turkey."

It could be that the show's detractors are upset because the characters of Kath and Kim Day (Turner and Riley respectively), Sharon (Magda Szubanski), Kel (Glenn Robins) and Brett (Peter Rowsthorn) are all portrayed as slightly dippy and self-absorbed.

Alternatively, it could be the uber-suburban setting that riles. Everybody knows that planned encampments such as Patterson Lakes and Hoppers Crossing exist, but, for some, they are not acceptable subjects for polite conversation, let alone prime time television shows. It is a position that was seemingly shared by certain sections of the ABC.

"We were talking about doing this show two years ago, but it took a little while to actually happen," explained Riley. "I'm not sure if Jonathan Shier had a problem with it. I'm not sure that he ever read a script. It seems that some parts of the ABC had problems with it - the comedy department had problems with it, and the then-head of television had problems with it, as far as I can ascertain.

"We could not get a straight answer out of anybody. It was a very weird time. But I think that's the thing: because the show seems to have really struck a chord that obviously is very specific. Some people are not going to like it, but for others it's really going to get them where they live."

Especially if they happen to live in a place that bears a passing resemblance to the brick-veneer streets of Fountain Lakes, the mythical suburb of the series, where the gardens are all neat and recreation is a trip to the shopping centre.

"I think it's real middle Australia," said Riley. "Everyone can relate to it. I think we all live, partly, those kind of lives. It's not one tiny little group we're poking a finger at. It's just a general, middle kind of suburb."

In other words, all of us, whether we live in Collingwood or Coober Pedy, can watch the show and whisper quietly to ourselves: Ich bin ein suburbanite. Whether we want to isn't germane, because like it or not, the cult of Kath & Kim is set to spread very quickly, propelled through the nation's young by the devilishly clever device (often over looked in Australian comedy) of the catchphrase.

Jane Turner's weekly outburst of "Look at moy, look at moy" is these days echoed incessantly around school yards and back gardens. The last time a comic's catchphrase spread this rapidly was in 1988, when Mary-Ann Fahey's acutely realised schoolgirl Kylie Mole gave the country, "She goes, she goes, she goes… she just goes."

Back then Riley and Turner were already old hands at the laughter business, and well used to working with each other. Both had already done some television, and a whole heap of stand-up work. The following year Channel 7 would launch Fast Forward, which starred the entire Kath & Kim cast, and who were directed, then as now, by Ted Emery.

In this type of longevity and frequent collaboration some people see a comedy mafia. Others, however, see ever more experienced performers and writers enjoying long and fruitful creative associations. The one between Riley and Turner is one of the longest.

"Jane and I met at St Martin's Youth Arts Centre," said Gina. "We were both 17. We did a play called The Sensational South Yarra Show, which we all wrote together. Even then, she played a grandmother, so her career was already set in stone! I played a bunny - a real one, not a Playboy one."

Around the same time, Melbourne's love affair with stand-up comedy was beginning, and comic-friendly venues such as The Flying Trapeze and the Last Laugh were opening. Gradually Gina's and Jane's mob came into contact and merged with another mob coming from the Melbourne University revue circuit, comprising the likes of Rob Sitch, Tom Gleisner, Marg Downey and Magda Szubanski.

People have come and gone, of course - and other groups such Fahey's and Ian McFadyen's Comedy Company have had their times in the sun - but essentially it's still the same two mobs doing the work today, only with more money.

For the past several years a loose coalition of Turner, Riley, Szubanski and Downey have managed to create a series, or at least a special, every year, starting with Big Girls Blouse in 1994. Sometimes, as in Something Stupid (1998) all four of them are involved. Other times, it might be a solo project, such as Szubanski's Dogwoman last year. More often than not, too, the writer-performers are also the executive producers.

Riley, however, happily admits that there is no grand plan behind the gags, no overarching corporate vision.

"We're not a Working Dog," she said. "We don't work together all the time. We go off and do other things, which probably keeps the spark alive for us. We all say now that the older we get, the better it gets.

"We're all friends. We all see each other socially, and yet we can work together. Often those two things don't mix, but with us it just seems to. We just really, really spark off each other."

And with a second series of Kath & Kim surely a distinct possibility and a new era dawning at the ABC, those sparks are set to fly for a while yet.

June 02, 2002
The Sydney Morning Herald