Isn’t it nice to wake up to a world without Scott Morrison? Now that he’s toddled off it seems that Australians are wondering how they actually managed to put up with his terrible act for three long years. Say what you like about Albo, but in the first few days of his Prime-Ministership he’s already achieved more than Scummo’s gang did throughout an entire term of office. He’s acquitted himself capably with the leaders of the United States, Japan and India, who seemed thoroughly relieved not to be staring at Scummo’s grinning, insincere mug. He’s got Penny Wong playing tag with the Chinese foreign minister across the Pacific, as Labor tries to patch the damage done by the previous administration’s contempt for the island nations. He’s making quick calls on the Biloela family and the minimum wage case. In brief, it feels like we’ve got an actual government again, rather than a cartel of Born-to-Rule, self-interested layabouts who only got down to work when it was a matter of distributing bribes and favours.
Even the Murdoch media are strugging to find enough hateful things to say about Albo and his team, although they still give it a pretty good try. The most fascinating new campaign is the polishing of the Hard Boiled Egg, who thinks we’ll be impressed if he swears he’s really a Soft Boiled Egg. Does anybody feel a faint sense of déjà vu? Wasn’t there a “bulldozer” threatening to reveal a softer, gentler side if only we re-elected him?
Anyway, it’s not the Egg’s appearance that should concern us – even though his smile alone is enough to send a crowd of people stampeding for the exits – it’s his record. Too many deals for his mates, too many inflammatory comments, war-mongering with China, mysterious self-enrichment while in office, and so on. A truly effective federal integrity commission would see most of the Coalition front bench tied up in hearings for the next three years.
I’m over my brush with COVID-19, and back home, but any plans of getting to Europe have been temporarily shelved. Even getting back from Cairns proved to be a difficult task, with cancelled and postponed flights the order of the day. Rydges Esplanade, where I found myself for a cool eight days, may not be the most splendiferous hotel in town, but I was impressed by how friendly and helpful everyone was. It was a reminder of old-fashioned Aussie decency, so widespread in those days before the Howard era, when selfishness and paranoia became prime virtues. It’s indicative that the very last act of the Morrison government was to send out a text message to millions of people in marginal electorates telling them about a Sri Lankan refugee boat and urging them to vote for the Coalition. These matters are always “on water”, unless there’s a federal election the next day. This stunt is currently being “investigated” by Albo’s gang, but will they be able to do anything beyond naming and shaming the perpetrators? We already know who they are.
The art column this week looks at the Archibald reject show, the Salon des Refusés, at the S.H. Ervin Gallery. As usual, one can’t draw any sweeping conclusions from this exhibition, which has some good things and some bad things. If I sound a bit more positive, I think that’s the inevitable result of the lifting of a collective burden felt by the entire country.
I try to read as widely as I can, not shirking the hard books and the big books, but my fallback in reading-for-pleasure, is usually Georges Simenon (or P.G. Wodehouse!). So when a new movie arrives that features Gérard Depardieu as Simenon’s famous detective, Chief Inspector Maigret, it’s a necessary review. I only wish Patrice Leconte’s Maigret could have stuck a little more closely to Simenon rather than invent entirely new characters and plotlines, but it’s worth seeing the film if only for the convincing evocation of a seedy 1950s Paris, and the spectacle of a great actor trying on a role upon which many other stars have already left their mark. A bit like Albo in the Lodge, maybe, although stardom will have to be earned.