There’s only one thing Kath & Kim have in common with Selena Gomez
My Mind & Me and Kath & Kim share nothing but the same ampersand in their titles. Oh, except for their lack of self-awareness.
My Mind & Me and Kath & Kim share nothing but the same ampersand in their titles. Oh, except for their lack of self-awareness.
Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. It’s an adage for former presidents staging political comebacks, and it’s true for some showrunners.
While the streaming services are out here making award-winning, beautifully shot and scripted television – like the brilliant Succession; the white-knuckle ride that is high school in Euphoria; and the groundbreaking (and side-splitting) The White Lotus – bigger networks are all about reheating. Resuscitating past hits didn’t work in the days of linear-only TV. Could it work in this era of on-demand viewing?
We’ll see the proof in that microwave pudding on Sunday when Seven screens a special Kath & Kim reunion “event” spanning two nights in prime time – Kath & Kim: Our Effluent Life.
The reunion special will feature the original cast, complete with their “chooky necks”. Kim and Brett have somehow become “skanky rich” and Sharon – hopeless in love and life – “has news”. No one does saturation marketing better than Seven. In the lead-up, Sunrise was themed as “Kath & Kim week” with Sonia Kruger being recruited to interview the creators and stars, Jane Turner and Gina Riley.
The chat was cute and light-hearted, however Kruger – now one of the network’s highest paid stars (with a seemingly permanent glam squad) who drives a sponsored Volvo – read a laboured introduction that showed she has never worn this specific shade of bogan.
Kruger rose to fame in Baz Luhrmann’s Strictly Ballroom as Tina Sparkle, a character with minimal lines but whose glitzy presence in the film as the Pan Pacific Grand Prix dance favourite is still credited as having created a cultural “moment” in Australian cinema. Kruger’s reading of an autocue, however, littered with quotes from Kath & Kim was more cultural cringe than cute spin. She was invited around to Kath’s split-level duplex for “chardonnay, dippity bix and little baby cheeses. A noice, casual afternoon of wine time where the horn bags opened up to me about their deepest nooks and unexplored crannies”.
If Kath & Kim reheated is anything like those promos, it will clog the arteries of an audience who would, at best, rather stream reruns of the original recipe on Netflix or its own streaming service, 7Plus, or, at worst, watch paint dry.
The network (and its accountants) will be hoping to spark a renewed interest in white Australian suburban culture with its love of muggaccinos, pedal pushers and “good rooms”. Given the social evolution since 2002, the only element new viewers may care for are the strong female leads. It’s been 20 years since the “foxy morons” from the fictitious Fountain Lakes cul-de-sac called time on their TV careers.
The series became a sleeper hit on the ABC in 2002 for being “noice, different and unusual”. It made the switch to Seven and spawned a US spin-off (which tanked like a Trump presidency). We knew the stars – Riley, Turner and Magda Szubanski – from their sketch days on Big Girl’s Blouse and Full Frontal, but these characters were something else. Something relatable. They were a potent combination of comedy, biting satire and nostalgia. It was fly-on-the-wall viewing that winked at aspirational Australia. Even all these years on the scripts have withstood the test of time. In fact, they’ve become more humorous thanks to the writing and brilliant delivery from the ensemble cast.
The secret sauce that has seen it age well is the way it never punched down. Well, except for Kim, who verbally berated her husband Brett (played by Pete Rowsthorn) in nearly every episode. Kim and Brett’s marriage was a narrative arc that almost led to the show never getting the green light at its original home on the national broadcaster.
Back in 1999, the ABC signed up to Turner and Riley’s vision and ordered 13 episodes of Kath & Kim. However notes and suggestions for changes came from executives which included Kim being too “unlikeable”, Kel being too nice and Kim’s “second best friend” Sharon being too much of a doormat to tolerate their relationship. According to reports, the “arguing” between a mother and daughter would not make for compelling viewing. Turner and Riley wanted to walk away – their scripts bleeding in red ink – on the eve of shooting the pilot. There was only one commercial network back then that showed lukewarm interest as the ABC held on to the copyright. Some things never change.
All three commercial free-to-air networks recently revealed their 2023 slate of shows. Combined, these three Australian networks have only eight scripted series coming to screens next year. There is not a comedy among them. If this classic revival is a success, rather than reboot Kath & Kim, local programmers should seek to find the new Turner and Riley. It’s what Apple has done. Like the way we listen to music, the tech giant is now disrupting television.
The most recent big project to premiere is My Mind & Me, the powerful documentary film focusing on the life of singer Selena Gomez. We’ve come to expect a certain triumph over adversity from these celebrity-focused stories. Gomez – a former Disney star turned chart-topping pop star, who was also famous for her relationship with Justin Bieber – has the world at her feet but she can barely get out of bed. This production is part Madonna’s Truth or Dare (the two share a director in Alek Keshishian), and part what happens when kids grow up in the glare of the spotlight.
They start as Epponnee-Raelene Kathleen Darlene Charlene Craig and end up like Kim. Except there is nothing funny about My Mind & Me. It’s as dark as Gomez’s existence – which she was barely doing for a period of time between 2019 to 2020. There was no life, just existing. She couldn’t breathe.
The 30-year-old allowed cameras to follow her in the lead up to, and ultimate cancellation, of a worldwide tour after breaking it off with Bieber, being diagnosed with lupus and undergoing a kidney transplant. She cries more than she smiles in the 90-minute film, which also follows her as she copes with bipolar. It’s a heart-wrenching peek behind the curtain of the pampered life of a pop star who is also a young woman navigating life during and after a breakdown.
Her best moments are when she returns home to small town Texas to hang out with her cousin and visits her old stomping grounds. Gomez – who causes a paparazzi frenzy wherever she goes – then travels to Kenya to visit a charity which helped young women access education.
My Mind & Me and Kath & Kim share nothing but the same ampersand in their titles. However, in one scene, Gomez’s lack of self-awareness resembles Kim’s. The 'Lose You To Love Me' singer is listening to young Kenyan women discuss how they were to be sold into arranged marriages after their fathers died and how landing a school scholarship saved them from such fate.“So do you believe in love?” Gomez asks, expressionless.
Both shows are revelatory in the sense they showcase different ways of storytelling. Both are unrelenting in the way they stretch the boundaries of humour and voyeurism. Both cause tears of laughter and joy, but after the credits roll they also encourage viewers to ask questions about what they’ve just watched and what these productions say about the world they exist in. Content is over, context is king now.
Selena Gomez: My Mind & Me is streaming now on Apple TV. Kath & Kim: Our Effluent Life airs on Seven on Sunday, November 20 from 7.30pm.