By Adrian Lowe
Most practising Mormons would know, or would have encountered, a real-life Elder Cunningham, the not-so-street smart lead character of the hit musical The Book of Mormon. I certainly met a few very like the naive and green missionary, who bumbles his way through teaching the Ugandan people the established-in-America religion.
That's not to say all are like that. In fact, many aren't and work hard. After all, they've often funded their two-year missionary work themselves. But that's what a stereotype is, and that's why The Book of Mormon works well. Its stereotypes, of everyday members and missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, at least, are spot on.
Though I'm very much a lapsed member these days (I'm gay, so left when I couldn't keep pretending otherwise), I was born a member of the church, one that has few members in Australia: just under 60,000 at the 2011 census. Church HQ claims about 150,000 members locally – but figure, this includes those, like me, who have not attended in years.
HQ would also point out that it's a fast-growing religion here. That much is true; the number of people identifying as Latter-day Saint grew by almost 10,000 between 2001 and 2011, according to census data.
The Book of Mormon's stereotypes of everyday members and missionaries are spot on.Credit: Jeff Busby
The show's creators have clearly done their research, and done it well; even down to the set decoration, which features images used to teach children and prospective members. When I was in the audience, there were many parts where I was the only one laughing because they'd hit on another in-joke. Most of it was funny to the entire audience because religion is funny – and it wouldn't matter if it was Catholicism or Buddhism being sent up.
If it wasn't for the lampooning of deity and the crude language, many Australian Mormons would acknowledge the show is actually funny. Most of the members I know are able and willing to laugh at themselves, the church culture and each other.
Arguably, the show is more offensive to Ugandans, who are portrayed as a backward people incapable of understanding basic English and interaction with the outside world. A text message is typed on a typewriter. They swear without knowing it's insulting. The show suggests they believe in horrific sexual practices.
Compared to this, Elder Cunningham and his crew get off lightly, with the insinuation that the simpleton would teach that some of the leaders in the actual Book of Mormon were borne of Star Wars aircraft.
Of course, this naivety comes from Elder Cunningham's sheltered upbringing in Salt Lake City, Utah, the church's global headquarters and establishing city, where Mormons dominate the airwaves, the screens and the community.
This gives rise to the suggestion that some American missionaries are blissfully unaware of much else other than life in what some call "The Factory", so nicknamed for the way it pumps out prototypes to spread the word of the Lord in far reaches of the world, including Australia.
In response to the show's blanket publicity, the church has pushed out its largest ever PR campaign in Melbourne, including train station advertising and even TV ads on commercial stations. Fifteen years ago, the church was considered edgy by some of its members for buying an advertising spot at Christmas on SBS – hardly the in-your-face effort Melburnians see every day at Southern Cross Station.
My advice to Mormons curious as to all the fuss? See it for yourself, but bring an open mind – and perhaps some earplugs.
If it wasn't for the lampooning of deity and crude language, many Australian Mormons would acknowledge the show is actually funny.