 Many would argue that, on the whole, Australia only ever makes crap comedy. But there are degrees of crapness, and to set out to make a show that rubs the audience's face in the low quality on offer is to set out on a path that will, if followed long and hard enough, lead you here, to the Lifetime Achievement Award.
Good News Week has been all but buried under bile in this year's awards. And yet there's so much more to come. For example, what's the point of reviving this particular format when shows like Spicks & Specks, and even Out of the Question have shown that keeping things focused is the way to keep things funny? Paul McDermott might as well shout "riff baby riff!" after every ad break then go back to sleep for the next ten minutes. Of course, if the team leaders were actually funny this free-wheeling structure might pay off. But, of course, no: it's like watching a rusty piece of farm machinery try to tell a knock-knock joke every time Mikey Robbins opens his mouth, while Claire Hooper's "rabbit in the headlights" look stopped being remotely interesting five minutes into episode one and there was only another year's worth of it to go after that. You'd think seeing Robbins and McDermott basically gang up on her for most of the year would be both fun and funny, but again no: it's just sad, a couple of dim-witted bullies picking on the school turtle. And then there are the guests. The old Good News Week could almost be forgiven for its endless stream of no-name celebrity guests and hack politicians, considering it'd spent at least a little time establishing itself. Not this time: it was straight back into the parade of chumps hired solely for promotional value sitting there adding nothing to the comedy conversation. It's television: we can forgive the occasional dud guest or big name, small talent celebrity. But no other panel show on Australian television goes so far out of it's way to drag on "big names" that we all know well ahead of time will do nothing but mangle a few pre-prepared lines and sit there looking nervous for the full hour. It's the kind of thinking that marks Good News Week all the way down the line: if you put together something that looks like it should be entertaining and fun, hopefully the viewers will tune in. Once they tune in, well, there's always a chance they'll fall asleep before they realise what it is they're actually watching. Bad luck Rebel Wilson - there's always next year. Well, after Bogan Pride, maybe not. Hang on - wasn't Nine kind enough to show a few episodes of your other massive TV failure Monster House in 2009? Crisis averted: you'll be back next year. As for Paul Fenech, well, he ticks all the right SBS boxes: cheap, multicultural, cheap, mildly subversive if you're dim-witted, cheap, and cheap. So as long as they're broadcasting, he'll always have a home - right here in the nominations for this award. And so from the dregs, we rise to the heights. Okay, this is Australian television we're talking about: it's not that big a trip. But it's a trip well worth taking as we turn our jaded gaze to...
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