It was only too predictable that every week leading up to the federal election would produce a new batch of lame stunts, as Scummo tries desperately to convince us he’s a good bloke. This, apparently, is the summit of his political ambitions. He’s already dismissed the idea of leaving a legacy, saying that he’s focused on the here and now. But those who don’t think a legacy is important are bound to leave one – of the worst possible complexion.
The latest debacle was the 60 Minutes interview with Karl Stefanovic, which was stage-managed to portray Our Leader and His Wife Jenny, as an ordinary suburban couple – a daggy dad and patient mum, focused on bringing up their two little darlings. There was no hint of what George Bush Snr. memorably called “the vision thing”. Scummo’s preferred image is one of complete medocrity. He wants to appeal to the ordinary Australian, letting him, her or they know that he and Jen are equally ordinary – perhaps outstandingly ordinary.
It never seems to have occurred to him that voters might prefer someone they can look up to and admire. They might be hoping for a leader with plans for this country beyond the suburban dream of the Menzies era, which is looking a little rusty nowadays. When Prime Ministers have stepped up and done something forthright, such as Kevin Rudd’s Apology to the stolen generations, or Julia Gillard’s misogyny speech, they’ve received overwhelming public approval. The problem with Rudd and Gillard, is that neither managed to maintain that directness and courage beyond a few brief episodes.
Scummo, by contrast, is a model of consistency, who seems determined to extend his message of mediocrity and insensitivity right up to election day. His last big foray in this direction was to mark the anniversary of Rudd’s Apology by telling the stolen generations it’s now time to forgive and forget. “Turn the other cheek” was his effective message, relying on Christian hypocrisy to carry the day. Not only was this completely unnecessary, it was provocative in the extreme – rather like the boss or a parent telling someone who has been unfairly victimised to just get over it.
Meanwhile, Scummo and his minions are pursuing a perncious policy of trying to portray Albo and his mob as dastardly collaborators with the Chinese communists. They may as well say Labor is in bed with the Taliban or the Mexican drug barons, it’s such a threadbare, foolish tactic – once again, a throwback to the 1950s, as if McCarthyism were a sure-fire path to success. Do the PM and the Boiled Egg really believe the Australian public is going to rally behind this most feeble of scare campaigns?
Even the 60 Minutes stunt had a nasty side to it, as Scummo got his “secret weapon” Jen (more like a blunt instrument), to say all the things he wanted to say himself. Jen told us how upset she was when those distressing texts referred to her hubbie as “a complete psycho”. (“I felt sick to my stomach. Those people had no idea about how it would affect my family…”)
She got stuck into young Grace Tame for her lack of “manners”. Ouch! How that must have hurt…
Scummo revealed his secret strategy for dealing with the pandemic: “I’ve worn out the carpet on the side of my bed, particularly down in Canberra, I’ve spent most of the pandemic on my knees, praying…”
“Particularly down in Canberra”. As if prayer is more effective when delivered in the nation’s capital. Or as if his duty as PM, is to act as a conduit to the Almighty.
Finally, he ended with a song: strumming a ukelele, and mumbling a single chorus of Dragon’s April Sun in Cuba, a big hit from 1977. It was presumably intended to make viewers dream of those glorious days spent watching Countdown on TV. The PM’s tunnel vision had moved on from the 1950s to the 1970s.
It was predictable the remaining members of Dragon would repudiate this “mortifying” performance. One hopes they also asked for royalties, and – considering the quality of the rendition – damages. Moreover, Scummo’s choice of instrument, the ukelele, brought back golden memories of his Hawaiian holiday during the 2019 bushfires. Tone deaf on all counts. Dragon released a social media post of the PM singing the song in front of a raging bushfire.
This week’s art column looks at the latest show at the White Rabbit Gallery – Big in China. It seemed especially topical while the Beijing Winter Olympics are on TV every night, and the Coalition are going out of their way to portray China as an evil empire.
Regardless of what one might make of China’s human rights record, or “Xi Jinping Thought”, Chinese artists have produced consistently outstanding work over the past decade or two. This productivity has now been put under pressure by the government’s authoritarian turn, meaning that White Rabbit may struggle to keep uncovering new works and artists. Nevertheless, Chinese artists have shown how resourceful they can be through periods of repression and censorship, so one shouldn’t hurry to write them off.
The film being reviewed is Belfast, Kenneth Branagh’s deeply personal memoir of a childhood spent in a city gradually succumbing to sectarian violence. What was most impressive, for me at least, was the way Branagh leaves us with a positive, almost romantic view of the place and time. The music is wall-to-wall Van Morrison, which is a big improvement on April Sun in Cuba rescored for ukelele.