Saturday, January 17, 2004
Kath, Kim and Kylie
I know I’m falling hook-line for a publicist’s bait of longshot likelihood by re-messaging this, but the perfect circularity of Kylie Minogue doing a cameo in the world’s current best sitcom (by a long shot), “Kath and Kim” is just irresistible.
“Kath and Kim” owes much to “Neighbours”. I have never been able to watch the latter, because of its remorseless deadpanning of Oz’s suburban awfulness. As to why pre-pubescent English schoolgirls (the show’s primary target audience) find it highly-attractive completely escapes me (now Robbie Williams, on the other hand . . . ). “Kath and Kim” plays with the deadpanning formula of suburban microdrama, and does so with a rigorous precision. Aesthetically, the result is called “camp” – the knowingness that pretends not to know. This pretence, of course, has to be pitched at exactly the right wavelength (= humour) for the audience to “get” (= be complicit in) it.
Sorry to be droning on here like a comedy buff (= tragic), but I can’t sign off without mentioning “Kath and Kim’s” best bit (Like the Kabbalah, good comedy is comprised of an infinite vortex of wheels within wheels). For me, you can’t go past a snappy Kim one-liner. As to which, it is rather spooky that Kylie said this in 1987:
"And, I don't like my voice, but I don't want to have lessons to speak prop-er-lay. It wouldn' t be me."
I know I’m falling hook-line for a publicist’s bait of longshot likelihood by re-messaging this, but the perfect circularity of Kylie Minogue doing a cameo in the world’s current best sitcom (by a long shot), “Kath and Kim” is just irresistible.
“Kath and Kim” owes much to “Neighbours”. I have never been able to watch the latter, because of its remorseless deadpanning of Oz’s suburban awfulness. As to why pre-pubescent English schoolgirls (the show’s primary target audience) find it highly-attractive completely escapes me (now Robbie Williams, on the other hand . . . ). “Kath and Kim” plays with the deadpanning formula of suburban microdrama, and does so with a rigorous precision. Aesthetically, the result is called “camp” – the knowingness that pretends not to know. This pretence, of course, has to be pitched at exactly the right wavelength (= humour) for the audience to “get” (= be complicit in) it.
Sorry to be droning on here like a comedy buff (= tragic), but I can’t sign off without mentioning “Kath and Kim’s” best bit (Like the Kabbalah, good comedy is comprised of an infinite vortex of wheels within wheels). For me, you can’t go past a snappy Kim one-liner. As to which, it is rather spooky that Kylie said this in 1987:
"And, I don't like my voice, but I don't want to have lessons to speak prop-er-lay. It wouldn' t be me."
