Thursday, April 01, 2010

The mysterious death of British culture

I've touched on these issues before in many posts, but tonight, after watching some British TV, I have a strong urge to rant about the state of British culture.

Of course, it could just be me reaching a premature "things were so much better when I were a lad" stage of my life. But no, it's not me: it's you, formerly great Britain, I am sure. For example:

* Britain's "celebrity culture" is shallow, as it is in all countries, but for some reason the bar seems set especially low in England. I've seen a couple of episodes of "Hestons Feasts" recently. It's a mildly diverting, if over-produced, show in which you learn something interesting about the history of exotic feasts. But it also involves the chef serving his strange, tricky food to a room full of six alleged celebrities. Usually I know one of them who became famous in the 1960's: the rest just seem so, well, incredibly uninteresting. Mind you, their job is just to go "ooh, ahh, what's this I am supposed to eat?" But still...

And as a service to the community, I warn you: if ever a television near you is showing "I'm a celebrity...Get me out of here" run a mile, and don't look back. It's the most excruciating TV ever to blight the medium.

It's like a new definition for horror: "B Grade British celebrity".

* British sitcoms and British movies, with very rare exceptions, have both been in a death spiral for the last 20 years. (Mind you, Australia has never made a completely convincing sitcom, but that's a different story.)

* British TV isn't always like this. But strangely, it usually has to have someone who was popular in the 1970's or 80's for it to be worthwhile. I've thoroughly enjoyed Griff Rhys Jones paddling about the pretty (and sometimes not so pretty) Rivers of England, which finished this week on ABC. And who in their right mind hasn't liked Michael Palin's travel shows? Parkinson was still a decent enough interviewer 'til the end, but the level of interest one could muster in his guests did suffer a severe downturn in his last couple of series.

Can you imagine in 20 years time wanting to watch "Jonathan Ross goes Up the Khyber", or whatever twaddle he would think witty? Graham Norton making witty but interesting cultural comment about some far flung country? I don't think so.

* British public art seems to have become a huge, vacuous joke:

Only last year, exhibitionism was elevated to "art" when people got to do their "thing" on a plinth in Trafalgar Square.

The Turner Prize (which I see only started in 1984) sets international benchmarks for the trivial, stupid, and/or grotesque in the genre, and at the same time seems to suck any sense of fun from the enterprise.

Further evidence this week of the nation's aesthetic judgment having mysteriously evaporated: the gigantic Olympic rollercoaster-after-the-apocalypse tower was not an April Fool's Day after all. It was also the winner of a competition. The winner had previously won the Turner Prize. Maybe the Turner Prize is the black hole through which British artistic taste has been sucked and eviscerated. It's as good a theory as any...

* Is there any current widely recognized British playwright whose works are anticipated by the populace? Not as far as I am aware. All the great playwrights are dead or at the end of their careers, leaving in their wake those who are only interested in social commentary from the perspective of left wing world view.

And, of course, Britain also seems to be the home of the pop song medley masquerading as theatre, which has promptly been exported internationally.


That's a pretty convincing line up of evidence, don't you think?

No comments:

Post a Comment