Underbelly

Recently I had the opportunity to take a look at the latest and greatest offering from the Australian TV drama fraternity: Underbelly. At first I was skeptical, seeing as I've never really been able to enjoy any dramas from my own country to date, but after watching a couple of minutes I was won over by the slick presentation, fast pace and solid acting. It also helped that the subject matter was seedy urban underworld gangsterism.

One of the first thoughts that I had after watching a few episodes was, 'When did Australia become cool?' The so-called 'cultural cringe' that was such a topic of discussion within the arts community during the 1990s has all but been obliterated, and now we can all watch productions such as Underbelly with as much enthusiasm as we do shows like Law and Order or Resevoir Dogs. Somehow it no longer seems corny to hear an ocker accent, and the phrase 'mean streets of Melbourne' no longer produces smirks. Underbelly is perhaps the first time in memory that I've found an Australian show that could really match it with those produced in the US and the UK in terms of not only production values but also entertainment value.

A further exploration of these thought led me to realise that this new boldness is not just limited to TV, but also extends to the entertainment industry more widely and even to mainstream Australian identity. On the radio we hear Australian rappers tearing up beats with ocker accents, and we even have advertisements portraying Australians as cool and level-headed while lampooning what we see as the stereotypical ignorant American (the Commonwealth Bank ad with the renegade koalas, in case you were wondering).

This change has been subtle, and has largely crept up unnoticed on me. In my estimation it really started to develop around the mid-2000s when Australia's heady economic progress led to a newfound sense of accomplishment and a wholescale reconfiguration of national identity that saw Australia recast as the 'can-do' nation. Suddenly the pessimism and larrikin spirit that had characterised our country took a back seat to the work ethic and consumerism that were the calling cards of the Howard Government. For me as a rapper, the change is noticeable in that the current generation of young hip hop heads (who came up around the mid-2000s) are now invariably using Australian accents, whereas the slightly older heads such as myself are generally split between adopting American accents or retaining our Australian ones.

Initially this change struck me as a positive one; Australia was finally putting out the polished product that would put us in the top bracket of worldwide competition and allow us to hold our heads high. But I then realised, as I often do, that things were not as simple as they seemed. The complication was this: it appears that our ability to compete with the Americans has come at the price of adopting American values. Which really means that although we may speak with Australian accents, the function and focus of discourse are now more American than they have ever been.

Underbelly is a case in point. What is it that makes this series so compelling? If I had to take a stab in the dark, I'd probably say that it's the wanton violence, big-city ethos and the liberal application of sex and drug use to flesh out (no pun intended) the general story. The same things that attracted us to the American films that portrayed the flashy gangster lifestyles of New York mobsters can now be set out in our own backyard. Melbourne, Australia is no longer a small, quiet city but a bustling criminal metropolis just like Chicago or Los Angeles. Perhaps even more than the high production values, the thing that makes Underbelly seem so 'professional' is the subject matter: it's very much like an American gangster flick, only Australian.

The same can be said for Australian hip hop. While the technical proficiency and ingenuity of todays Australian rappers can't be doubted, there is a certain hollowness to the music. It is American in all but name. The style of the beats, the topics and even the lingo are all the same – it is American hip hop coming out of Australian mouths. Australia has arrived, but perhaps at the expense of itself.

Personally I don't think that this is necessarily a bad thing. I for one have always been open in my appreciation for American culture: the glitz, the work ethic and the energy. I think that there is no greater proof of this than my decision to stick with an American accent (which I still maintain is the international accent for hip hop) in my music, even when it has become deeply unpopular in Australian hip hop circles to do so . Of course I don't like everything about American culture, and I equally appreciate my native culture as well. If I had to choose a place to live, there is no question that I would be exactly where I am now.

The thing that I find about ironic is that a lot of these developments have been motivated by a curious mixture of the aforementioned cultural cringe (ie a determination to show the Americans that we're not inferior to them) and the strange love-hate relationship that Australia has with the US: we secretly lust after their lifestyle, but we also possess a pathological desire to look down on them. Well I can say, watching series like Underbelly and listening to Aussie hip hop, that we have beaten the Americans at their own game – in terms of quality, our products are just as good if not better than those produced in the US. But in the conflict between motivations the former has won out: our desire to be better than the Americans has blinded us to the desire to be different from them. As the cop Owen from Underbelly points out: 'If we do the same things as them, how are we any better than them?'

The bottom line in my thinking is this: Australia has always been great as a laid-back, yet hard-working place. Ask the Americans that come here to shoot movies or do tours: they'll all tell you that the best part of Australia is that life is so much calmer here than it is in America. Australia is rapidly moving up in the world, and the sleepy suburbia that most Australians remember from their childhoods no longer exists. That sort of a society is great for living in, but not so great for setting movies in. And I don't know about you, but I'd prefer to keep my actual life and the fantasy entertainment world that I retreat to every now and then very much separate. All in all however, this shift to a more American style of life may not be a bad thing; if we want to compete on the world stage we do have to lift our game. But let's stop all the nonsense about the new 'Aussie pride' – there is no pride to be had in keeping the accent but losing the soul.