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JABOOTU DOWN UNDER

Guest Reviews By Liz Kingsley

Note:  For the benefit of those who haven't read Liz's previous JAG Down Under review, the introduction from that piece is repeated below.  Others may wish to skip ahead to the current Review.

i. Introduction

Well, a change is as good as a holiday, they say, so I thought I’d spend my summer hiatus with the fine fellows of Jabootu’s Bad Movie Dimension. However, the world being what it is, no-one gets nuthin’ for nuthin’, and instead of a relaxing few weeks, I find myself in the midst of a working holiday – to wit, tackling those projects which, requiring an [*cough*] exotic (and exchange-rate friendly) location, packed up their cast and crew and headed for the sunny shores of Oz.

The results of this, ah, "cultural" exchange tend to fall into two categories. Some shows do use Australia purely as an exotic location, inserting stock footage of the usual suspects while their characters go about their normal business. The results are usually painless.

On the other hand, some shows decide to go native. They create Australian characters, integrate them into the plot, and give them reams of dialogue peppered with the local vernacular.

The results could make your head explode.

The first thing you notice about these shows is that they are never, ever suffixed with the expression "---in Australia". Instead, the title is invariably Such-And-Such Down Under.

The problem with this, of course, is that - with very rare exceptions - no-one in Australia ever uses the expression "Down Under".

What are those exceptions, you might ask?

1. When writing song lyrics.

Let’s face it, "Australia" is not the easiest word to rhyme. Sure, pronounce it "Oz-TRAYYL-ya" (as many have), and you give yourself a few options, but nothing to compare with the possibilities granted by the syllables of "under": thunder, wonder, plunder, blunder.

Chunder….

2. When trying to avoid geographical confusion.

After the Sydney Olympics, the organizing committee published a list of the ten questions most frequently asked by prospective tourists in the lead-up to the Games. Coming in fourth was "When/where can I hear the Vienna Boys’ Choir?"

3. When trying to see how much BS we can feed to gullible Americans.

Yes, though I blush to confess it, it’s true: we Australians do sometimes pile on the "local colour" when talking to tourists. And I blush even more to confess that the most popular target for this behaviour is Americans. They have such beautiful natures! – open, honest, trusting….

I mean, come on! How could we resist!?

This reflection on "local colour" leads us to the one constant point of the Down Under projects: the endlessly bizarre dialogue. Don’t get me wrong: Australian is a difficult language, chock full of slang, and abbreviations, and nicknames – not to mention the local intonation, which no-one else in the world seems to be able to duplicate (when they try, it generally comes out sounding either South African or Cockney). If the producers really wanted to amuse/entertain/bewilder their audience, they’d only have to make their dialogue accurate. But this never happens. Instead, these shows invariably feature a mindboggling mixture of anachronisms, misused expressions, and flat-out what-the-fudge?-s. Which leads to the question - who writes this stuff? Do the shows use their normal writers? – and if so, do those writers spend a couple of days amongst the locals, then try to reproduce what they’ve heard? Or do they just make it up?

Or – do the producers hire an advisor? – and does that advisor, perhaps, see an opportunity to take Point #3 to a whole new level? Somehow, I’m unable to shake a mental picture of the individuals hired to provide the necessary "colour" for these shows counting their fees and giggling in an evil and manic fashion while reflecting, "I cannot believe they swallowed that!!"

The lead-up to the Sydney Olympics saw a rush of "Down Under" television specials. The ones that made it first to Australian screens suggest that even as I am now luxuriating in Jabootu’s personal realm, he once graced my backyard with his presence. Certainly, the overall standard of these programs indicates that despite being in the middle of a well-earned rest, everyone’s favourite ebon deity saw that he was needed, and interrupted his holiday to make a personal contribution to their production, thus lifting them from the level of mere television mediocrity up into the realm of the truly, embarrassingly awful.

Whatta guy!

Review #2:  Baywatch  Down Under  (Part 1)

[Editor Ken:  Sans instructions, I had to illustrate this article in a manner I thought Liz herself would have, had she the opportunity.  I hope she likes it.]

As I imagine everyone here knows by now, Baywatch was canned in its 12^th (!) season, after the show had been moved to Hawaii in an attempt to boost its sagging ratings. What you may not know is that Deathwatch very nearly happened in Sydney. The “Down Under” episodes were shot in the northern beachside suburb of Avalon, and for a while the producers were contemplating moving the show there on a permanent basis. After the experience of the original shoot, however, the Avalon residents (who, after all, pay a great deal of money to live where they do), decided that enough was enough. Having been banned from their own beach – and rather forcibly escorted away by security guards if they ventured onto it - not to mention being brusquely ordered to “keep quiet” well into the day because the stars were sleeping, the locals banded together to stage a heated and angry protest. As one commentator put it, they “reacted as if the producers had said they were planning on burying toxic waste on the beach”. 

Which is nonsense, of course. 

The producers never had any intention of burying it…. 

I started out my JAG review by confessing that I’d never watched an episode of the show before, and I can almost make the same claim here. Almost. If I’m to be perfectly honest, I must confess that I did once tune into Baywatch on purpose. It was the episode where someone-or-other was nearly dragged to her death by a giant octopus. (The cephalopod in question had, of course, figured prominently in the pre-screening advertisements.) Well, watch it I did, right up to the moment when the potential victim, while being dragged into the depths, carefully pushed the hair out of her face for the camera. At which point I gave a bray of contemptuous laughter and watched a Fred Olen Ray film instead. 

I managed to avoid seeing any more of Baywatch (excepting the opening five seconds of the occasional episode - it screens right after The Simpsons here, so, you know….) until, duty calling, I braced myself to sit through the “Down Under” episodes. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that, upon the whole, the shows fall into “Category A” as defined in my JAG review – i.e. using the country as a backdrop for its characters, but not getting into that whole “local colour” thing. Given the boundaries I imposed upon myself when I started out to write these pieces, did this mean that Baywatch Down Under didn’t qualify!? 

Of course not. I mean – come on! It’s Baywatch, after all…. 

Baywatch Down Under opens with a car submerged in a river, a man trapped inside it. The rescue team eventually extricates him, and surfaces to check on one another. “Everyone here?” inquires Mitch (the one – the only – DAVID HASSELHOFF!! Whoo hoo!!). “Yeah,” responds one of the others immediately. Mitch continues to look around, however, and notices that someone is missing. “Where’s Jake?” he demands. “I don’t see him,” replies the person who originally claimed that everyone was present and accounted for. A frantic search ensues. The whole team thrashes around on the surface yelling, “Jake! Jake!” – which, under the circumstances, seems fairly counterintuitive. 

Sure enough, a brief shot below the surface shows us the missing Jake trapped beneath a submerged tree branch, and emitting a rather alarming stream of bubbles. Eventually, Mitch and his team assure themselves that Jake is not above water, and begin to dive. The women seem to have some trouble staying submerged – must be those floaties they carry with them, I guess [Editor Ken:  Is that what you call them!  Snort!  Giggle!]  – but Mitch and a male team member locate their comrade, who is still emitting a constant stream of bubbles. They manage to pull him free and haul him to the surface. He tries to thank his rescuers, but the heroic and modest Mitch waves this aside, of course. “This time I got you, next time you get me.” (Subtle foreshadowing?)  Then – “LET’S GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE!!”   

Cue opening credits. Apart from The Mighty Hoff himself, the only person I recognize is Mitzi Kapture (“Alex”), one-time star of the late lamented Silk Stalkings (another Channel 7 show! – whatta network!). I’m glad to see she got more work because, you know, “Mitzi Kapture”. Heh! Strangely, the credits do not reveal who wrote these episodes - which possibly speaks for itself. 

The show proper opens with a scene in the oddest communal shower I have ever seen (not that I’ve seen that many, I guess….). The entire team is there, really showering – you know, soap and all – but they are still dressed in their trademark red swimsuits! Hmm – maybe they never come off!? (“You will take my red cozzie from me only when you peel it from my cold, dead body!”) A brief cutaway shows us a guy in a suit lurking in the doorway (I guess if no-one takes their clothes off, they don’t need to shut the door) as the lifeguards discuss Jake’s experience. One of the girls (“Jessie”) comments that Jake must have been terrified, a remark that tags her as a rookie. On the contrary, Jake explains, his training kicked in, and he was perfectly calm. “My mind was clear – clearer than it’s ever been!” Well, no difficulty believing that. 

The lurking suit draws near. “Jake,” he pronounces. “Eric,” responds Jake, looking less than thrilled. “What the hell are you doing here?” “We have to talk,” replies Eric. “We have nothing to talk about,” snaps Jake. “Can I see you in private?” Eric inquires, perhaps as creeped out by this situation as I am. Jake chooses to take this as some kind of threat. “You wanna step outside?” Another of the lifeguards (“Cody”) feels called upon to intervene. Jake explains edgily that Eric is his ex-wife’s old boyfriend – “and current lawyer,” he adds with limitless contempt, ordering him to say what he has to say.

“Clare’s dead,” replies Eric obediently. “A traffic accident.” 

Jake is (thankfully) stunned into silence. The camera pans around, showing us the shocked expressions of his friends. (Wow! Everyone in this show has blue eyes! It’s just like a Sergio Leone movie!) 

“There’s something else,” says Eric.
“What else could there possibly be?” demands the anguished Jake. 

(Oh, gee, I wonder? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller…?)

“A child,” replies Eric. Surprise! “He’s your son – and he’s called Terence.” He drops a photograph onto a table, adding, “There’s an address on the back.” And so there is: Avalon Beach S.L.S.C., Sydney. It’s a little known fact that Australian Surf Life-Saving Clubs double as orphanages. 

“What am I supposed to do?” wails Jake. Eric has been heading for the door, but here he looks back. “Do? Do what you always do, Jake.” (You know, it’s pretty tragic when you never watch a show, but you can predict not just plot “twists”, but whole chunks of dialogue. Like right here. All together now!) “Run away.” And having flown halfway around the world for this five-minute conversation, exit Eric. 

Jake walks slowly forward to pick up the picture of his son – which is lying next to a prominent display of PAUL MITCHELL brand toiletries. (Hey, never mind that. I wanna know what cosmetics the girls use – they last and last! Through everything from freezing cold river rescues, to warm communal showers with your friends!) The photograph shows a cute little boy hugging an even cuter puppy dog. Awwww…. 

Absorbed in his troubles, Jake stares out at the pounding surf*, and we finally learn that these episodes were written by one Maurice Hurley. These were his only writing credits for the series, but he later served as executive producer for Baywatch Nights (!). Now, when a young man is troubled in his soul, who would he want to turn to but The Mighty Hoff? And sure enough, Mitch soon sidles up to Jake. “Heard about your loss,” he comments tactfully, then prompts, “I didn’t know you were married?” And then we get the tragic tale of how while “beating around the world – surfin’, goofin’ off” – Jake met “this incredible girl” in Sydney. They got married, but it didn’t work out. However, Jake never stopped loving her, and could never bring himself to sign the divorce papers. “I always thought that somehow, some way, I was going to end up back in Sydney,” Jake confesses. And so you are, Jake, only – not the way you dreamed. Oh, bitter irony! Jake then further confesses that he doesn’t think he’s up to the responsibility of fatherhood. Cue philosophical musings from Mitch: 

“Look, a few years back, the same thing happened to me. Different situation, but the same.” 

He then goes on to describe the “awesome, incredible, frustrating, demanding” experience of fatherhood. Jake is unreasonably resistant to this line of argument, pointing out that he and Mitch are different. 

“Yeah, we’re different! But we’re the same!” 

Mitch then offers to accompany Jake on his trip to Australia, dismissing Jake’s protestations that he can’t ask that of him. 

“I love Sydney! It’s one of the most awesome cities on the planet!” 

Ah, Mitch….if only it returned your affection…. 

And with that we cut to a surf-side pool in Sydney. A phone is ringing. A man leaps from the water to answer it, and we see that while the establishing shot showed clear blue skies, this second one shows them to be grey and overcast. Ed Wood would be proud. The man answering the phone turns out to be Kip Kane, Mitch’s old buddy. (“Kip Kane”? Oh, dear….) Hearing that Mitch is “coming Down Under”, Kip calls his team around him and announces some big news: that’s he’s becoming a race promoter; that he’s staging a series of international competitions “like the Ryder Cup, for water sports!” He invites Mitch to put together a US team. Mitch is hesitant, so Kane pours on the added inducements: 

“What if I arranged to fly you down here AIR NEW ZEALAND – THE FINEST SERVICE TO THE SOUTH PACIFIC – and put you up at STAR CITY – SYDNEY’S BEAUTIFUL NEW CASINO – at no charge to you?” 

Nor to the producers, I imagine. Mitch, gathering his own team around, inquires what kind of race it will be? 

“It’s a hybrid! Part eco-style, part ironman, a little triathlon. Starts in Sydney, ends in the bush!” 

Yeah, that sounds probable. One of Kane’s team then has the temerity to suggest that the US team couldn’t possibly win. Realizing that these upstart Aussies need their butts kicked, Mitch agrees, but only if his entire team can come. Kane looks pained (why? Surely AIR NEW ZEALAND and STAR CITY will be footing the bill?), but also agrees to terms. 

“Think of it, Mitch: you’re gunna be there at the start of my new career!”
“And – the end of it! G’DAY!!” 

And Mitch hangs up, laughing triumphantly. Hmm….I guess someone should have explained to him that, unlike “aloha”, “g’day” doesn’t mean hello and goodbye…. 

Cut to the team’s AIR NEW ZEALAND flight. Jessie is questioning Jake about his situation, wondering why his wife didn’t tell him she was pregnant? Jake shakes his head. 

“I guess she just stopped loving me. It was all so sudden – out of the blue.”
“Nothing’s out of the blue – you just didn’t see it coming.”

(I was perversely amused, by the way, to discover that the full character name of this blonde, blue-eyed beach babe is “Jessie Owens”!?). 

A flight attendant – who looks weirdly like Raquel Welch – sees Jake’s picture of Terence, and gives it A Significant Look. Jake asks Jessie why she cares so much about his situation, and Jessie reveals that her own father walked out when she was a child; that her mother fell into a deep depression and died; and that the only time her father was heard from again was a “collect phone-call” on the day of the funeral. Classy. This is Brooke Burns’ Oscar Clip™ moment, and she goes on for about five minutes about how her father never knew how she needed him, how she really needed him, how she really, really, really needed him, until Jake finally blurts, “I get it!” Yup, no need to use a sledgehammer on ol’ Jake Barnes! 

Elsewhere, Cody is flicking through his Big Picture Book Of Sydney, pointing out future Olympic sites to April. “It’s gunna be awesome!” he comments, revealing that he, too, has studied at the Foot Of Hoff. After some sad musings about his “lost chance” at the Atlanta Olympics, Cody flicks to the inevitable photo of the Sydney Harbour Bridge, and we do a still more inevitable fade to the Real Thing, followed by – a helicopter shot over the harbour…. A whole series of Bleeding Obvious picturesque shots follows, in which blue skies and grey skies are strangely mingled. Unwisely cut in is a shot of the Great Ferry Boat Race – which only takes place on Australia Day. We find that Mitch and his team, plus Kip Kane, are on the Lady Northcott (which was also the ferry prominently featured in JAG! – I guess it’s the standard government “rental”). Mitch climbs up on the bow and does his impression of Leonardo DiCaprio (which is illegal, but never mind. Uh – climbing up on the bow, that is, not….) He then tells Kip that “Jake needs to get to Avalon.” 

“No worries. The ferry stops near SYDNEY HARBOUR SEAPLANES – they can run him up.” 

(Of course, if he was really in a hurry, he’d’ve got a bus from the city. You know, like normal people? [A seaplane to Avalon!! Hee, hee, hee, hee, hee!]) 

April asks Jessie if she’s coming with them and she responds, no, she’s going to Avalon with Jake. We then get a shot of Jake looking grave, and see that behind him stands “Raquel”, the AIR NEW ZEALAND flight attendant, who is still watching him thoughtfully. 

Jake, with Jessie in tow, heads for the dock of SYDNEY HARBOUR SEAPLANES. They are told that their pilot will be there in a minute, and whaddya know!? – it’s Raquel Welch! Jessie recognises her. “Hey, weren’t you the flight attendant on that AIR NEW ZEALAND flight? What a coincidence!” Ya think? “It gets better,” responds Raquel. “I don’t know your name, but you’re Jake Barnes.” At which, “Raquel” finally introduces herself. “I’m Allie Reese. I was Clare’s best friend.” Gosh, fancy!  

Jake tries to make Allie talk about Terence and Clare, but she is evasive. The three climb into the plane and take off, and we get the usual aerial shots over the harbour. Just to vary the diet a little, Jessie exclaims, “That looks like an old fort!” It is, Allie confirms, “Fort Denison – dates back to the convict ship.” Uh, the convict ship? (Not that I’m complaining. If that’s gunna be the extent of the dreaded “c” word, I’m grateful, believe me!) 

Actually, Allie’s remark isn’t strictly true. Pinchgut Island, on which the fort is built, was used to isolate particularly troublesome convicts -- you can think of it as a down-market Alcatraz, if you like -- but the Fort wasn’t built until the 1850s, more than a decade after convict transportation to Sydney had stopped. Denison was actually built in apprehension of an attack by Russian warships that never eventuated; and by the time construction was complete, the fort was obsolete. (And thus was the precedent set for all Australian government projects to follow!) 

Jessie then insists on labouring the point about just how much of a coincidence all this has been – just in case we weren’t already having enough trouble swallowing this storyline. “First you’re on that AIR NEW ZEALAND flight – then you’re a friend of Jake’s wife – and now you’re flying him to meet his son! What are the odds of that happening?” 

“Some of the native people,” responds Allie, “wouldn’t think it strange at all. They believe that heaven and earth will move as one to protect a child.” 

Oh, I see. We’re going to try and blame all this on the aboriginal people, are we? Thanks, but no thanks. I prefer to place the blame right where it belongs – with crappy American TV writers. 

“So maybe I’ve been chosen to get you safely to Avalon” – as opposed to those evil, untrustworthy, Route 188 bus drivers, I presume – “in which case it’s providence, not coincidence.” 

Jake was in a hurry, remember? That’s why he took a seaplane. This apparently escapes Allie, who continues to circle the harbour at a leisurely pace before eventually heading north. Thank God! We finally get away from those shots of the harbour, and show the viewer something a bit less familiar: the Northern Beaches. 

“That’s where we’re headed,” Allie says at last. “That’s Avalon.” The city has been overcast to this point, but our first view of Avalon beach is under blazing sunshine. “What’s going on?” Jessie asks, seeing the activity below. “It’s a surf carnival,” replies Allie, “with teams from the beaches around New South Wales. If you want to see something uniquely Australian, though, this is it!” 

(Actually, if you really want to see something uniquely Australian, I’d recommend a cricket ticket for Bay 13 at the MCG – heh, heh, heh, heh….) 

We now get some close shots of the beach. Hey, that’s funny! When they flew over the beach, there were no boats on the water. But now there are! And now there aren’t! And now there are…! 

Cut to Jake and Jessie at the beach, gaping at all the activity around them. Miraculously, although the rest of the beach is drenched in sunshine, the two Americans have found an overcast spot. Go figure. We now spend several minutes observing the numerous Surf Life-Saving teams from all around New South Wales. Since this is both thematically correct and kind of nice to look at, it is easily the most enjoyable part of the show. Eventually, however, Jake remembers that he’s not actually there to enjoy the sights, and wanders off to look for his son. After a few seconds of fruitless searching, he pauses in frustration. But wait! – who’s that on the balcony behind him! And he’s even got his puppy with him. Awwww…. 

The dog barks, and Jake looks around, making eye contact with his son. He smiles tentatively, but the kid continues to look grave. He then turns and runs away. Smart kid.

 Allie suddenly appears in a yellow one-piece. By another staggering coincidence – sorry, act of providence – she just happens to be a member of Avalon Surf Life-Saving Club. (So – she just keeps the seaplane when it suits her?) As she stands there talking to her fellow team-members, we pan back to Jake, lost in thought. Just then, faintly, we hear a cry for help. 

And now we get what, amazingly enough, is the single stupidest part of this entire story. 

The cry for help comes from the girlfriend of a man who has been washed off the rocks at the edge of the beach. He is struggling in the high surf, and in danger of being swept onto the rocks. Astonishingly, although we are in the middle of a major surf carnival – although we just spent about five minutes watching dozens of lifesaving teams go through their paces on the beach – although the water was literally covered in surf-boats – no-one hears the cry for help but Jake. And he grabs a handy flotation device and charges off to the rescue. 

And then we discover why no-one heard the cry for help but Jake: the camera follows him as he runs along the beach, and we see that for the purposes of this plot point, the entire surf carnival has vanished from Avalon Beach! 

Okay – I realise that this is the traditional “estranged father proves his credentials to doubting child” scene; but for crying out loud! – did they have to take this to such ridiculous extremes?  [Editor Ken:  Well, if you wanted proof that Liz had never seen Baywatch before…] 

Allie, who has been up near the clubhouse chatting to her yellow-cozzied comrades, notices, not that someone is drowning, but that Jake is running down the beach. She stares after him with a puzzled expression, as if she can’t for the life of her figure out why a lifeguard would be running towards the water carrying a flotation device. Light finally dawns, and she and one of her colleagues (“Ian”) grab a rubber ducky (uh, that’s one of those inflatable rubber motor-boats) and charge into the surf. Next to come to her senses is Jessie, who runs after Jake. And then, who else should notice these goings-on but Terence? – who runs down the beach, gaping in alarm as he sees his father in action (and, by the by, giving the viewer a nice clear view of his HOT TUNA beachwear). 

And for the record, that is it. Throughout the dramatic rescue scene to follow, not one other person – not on the beach, and not in the water – takes the slightest notice of what’s happening. 

Jake runs to the rocks and plunges into the water (an incredibly dangerous and, yes, stupid act which later on is vindicated, of course). Meanwhile, Allie and Ian try to get near in their boat, but are forced back by the dangerous surf. Jake manages to grab the endangered man, and supports him while they wait for the boat to draw near. Jessie has run to the victim’s girlfriend. Allie and Ian narrowly avoid getting smashed onto the rocks by an eight-foot breaker. Seeing this, Jessie shouts disgustedly, “Get in there! What are you waiting for!?” Miraculously, the huge surf suddenly drops (as miraculously as it got up, I guess – it certainly wasn’t anything like that when we first saw the beach), and Jake and his rescue-ee are hauled to safety. 

The watching Terence beams approvingly. Awwww…. 

The rubber ducky plunges up the beach and disgorges its load. (And yup, not one sign of the surf carnival is anywhere to be seen. Not so much “Avalon” as “Brigadoon”, really.) Ian says to Jake, “You must be a life-saver!” “Lifeguard!” snaps back Jake. Oh, excuse us. “L.A. County.” Ian then chews Jake out for his little rock-diving stunt, and Jake says belligerently, “That’s what we do, pal! We get our hands on the victim, and figure it out from there!” Which explains the high attrition rate amongst L.A. County lifeguards. Allie steps in to play peacemaker, pointing out that neither technique would have worked on its own, they had to work together. CO-OP-ER-A-TION. Just like on Sesame Street. Allie then notices that Jake scratched his shoulder blade on the rocks, and hauls him off to patch him up. Jessie joins them, and starts asking about the Surf-Lifesaving organization. 

“So, is this, like, a lifeguard headquarters?” 

“Yes and no,” replies Allie, and goes on to explain a bit about the Australian Surf-Lifesaving movement (although without really giving an indication of the organization’s scope, or mentioning that it was the first of its kind in the world). The patched-up Jake asks about Terence. It turns out that Clare, too, was a member of Avalon S.L.S.C. “But he can’t continue to stay here on his own,” Allie comments. You would think not. (I presume that for convenience’s sake, Terence will prove to have no other relatives in Australia.) Jake is then sent to “the rock-pool”, where Terence sits with his feet dangling in the water. Strangely enough, this public pool area is otherwise completely deserted. 

Jake sits beside his son and they make awkward small-talk – the weather, Terence’s dog, surfing – until Terence finally asks his father where he’s been? “California,” replies Jake, choosing to interpret his son’s question literally, rather than morally. Jake then expresses his sorrow over Clare’s death, but Terence, stoic little Australian male that he is, pretty much shrugs this off with a Well, whaddya gunna do? look. Things get a bit gooey from there, with Jake promising he’ll never, never leave his son, and Terence signifying his approval by initiating a game of “underwater tag”. From the balcony of the clubhouse, Jessie and Allie beam at this turn of events. How lucky that no-one was on the beach or in the pool to block their view of it! 

And now it’s time to see what the others are up to. We cut to STAR CITY CASINO. A banner on the front reads “STAR CITY welcome TEAM BAYWATCH”. In yet another of this story’s many acts of providence, we see that the event is being sponsored by AIR NEW ZEALAND and PAUL MITCHELL PROFESSIONAL SALON PRODUCTS. 

“It’s great of STAR CITY to put us up, huh? Check out the view!” comments Mitch, and another of Hoff’s Disciples (Alex, I think) agrees, “Yeah this place is awesome!” We are then introduced to “John Paul DeJoria and his lovely wife, Eloise”. Mr DeJoria is in fact CEO of the company that makes PAUL MITCHELL PROFESSIONAL SALON PRODUCTS, and thus is playing himself; as indeed is his “lovely wife, Eloise”, one-time model, now company spokesperson. DeJoria makes a little speech about the “PAUL MITCHELL Sydney Challenge”, and how wonderful it is to have attracted “such respected teams” (uh, teams? uh, respected?), only to be interrupted by Kip – who will in turn be interrupted by me. 

I said that they don’t do the whole “local colour” thing here, and that’s largely true. Instead, they find a new twist. Rather than depicting Australians as beer-swilling, shark-watching, colloquial-spouting ockers, they depict them as cheats and bad sports, and habitually rude to boot. Which approach is ultimately the more irritating? Well, as Audrey Hepburn once said, each in its own way…. 

Anyway, Kip interrupts DeJoria’s speech with, “Before you go any further---” Mitch in turn breaks in, insisting that Kip let DeJoria finish. But DeJoria only chuckles, claiming he’s used to Kip interrupting. I guess that’s what Australians do. Kip then apologises to Mitch for that “you can’t possibly win” taunt, saying he knows that hurt the Baywatchers’ feelings. Not that he’s retracting the statement, mind you. “It’s just that you’re lifeguards! You’re not really athletes!” 

Gee, I wonder where this is heading? 

The Baywatchers all react with indignation, and Alex takes the bait, pointing out that Cody nearly made the Olympic team. Kip retaliates by introducing “Duggo”, who did make the Olympic team. “James Duggan?” Cody asks, dismayed. “Freestyle sprints?” Kip then also introduces “Nicki Masterton, who’s won two triathlons---“ (this, with his arm around a slender blonde who looks as much like a triathlete as I do [although for opposite reasons]), “---and “Kendra Reilly” (played by Channel 7 [*cough*] personality Tania Zaetta), a kayaker who would have won the World Championship, except her paddle snapped – “and she still came in third!” Mitch then toasts DeJoria – and, of course, “his lovely wife, Eloise” – thanking them very much for this opportunity (Hoff sounds most sincere here; I guess he enjoyed his holiday), then hoping for the sake of Kip and his team that their boasting words “aren’t too difficult to swallow”. 

Cut to Jake meeting up with Terence in “his room” at the S.L.S.C. They start getting to know one another, agreeing that history was their favourite school subject. And hey! – local colour! Of a sort, anyway. I don’t think I can do better than quote the following dialogue in full: 

“What are you studying?”
“Early settlers.”
“Yeah? The Pilgrims! Pilgrims were pretty brave, don’t you think?”
“Who?”
“The Pilgrims! You know – Plymouth Rock, Thanksgiving….”
“Uh, we don’t study them.”
“No, right. No, you wouldn’t. [Pause] Um – gotta girlfriend? [Terence gives him a contemptuous look] Okay, how about sport? What’s your favourite sport?”
“Cricket.”
“Cricket’s your favourite sport!?”
“After footy.”
“‘Foo-ty’? Ohhh, football! Yeah, football! I love football! I love football! Yeah! [Slight pause] What’s that smell? Something smells awesome!”
“It’s a sausage sizzle.”
“A what!?”
“A – SAUSAGE – SIZZLE.”

(You know what’s really sad about this? At the tender age of eight, the kid who plays Terence [Christian Patterson] is just about the best actor in this whole silly show. Even so, he can’t quite keep a Who-wrote-this-stuff? expression off his face as he’s delivering these lines.) 

Cut back to STAR CITY. James Duggan aka “Duggo” is putting the moves on April, bemoaning the fact that he’s “painfully shy”. 

“If I wasn’t so shy, I’d be able to tell you how being this close to you makes my heart race!”
“Um – I’m going to walk away now.”

“Did I make you angry?’
“No, just metagrobolized.” 

(Yeah, okay, okay, I put that in. Like anyone in Baywatch knows a word with five syllables!)

“No, you just confused me. Either you’re the sweetest, most ingenuous guy I’ve ever met, or---”
“Or---?”
“Or you’re not.” 

Mitch thanks DeJoria once again for the awesome party, then retires, pleading jetlag. It then turns out that the competition is tomorrow – so I guess us bad sports don’t want to give the Americans a chance to get over their jetlag. Mwoo-ha-ha! Seeing Mitch withdraw, Nicki (the blonde triathlete) also bids DeJoria farewell. He wishes her good luck, and with a grimace she concedes, “I’m gunna need it!” She then scurries after Mitch, as Alex looks on thoughtfully. 

Mitch walks through the casino, Nicki in his wake. He opens his door with his electronic key, and as it swings shut, Nicki hurries forward and stops the lock catching…. 

At the beach – at the SAUSAGE SIZZLE – Allie tells Jake that if he wants to stay, “You’ll have to ‘Q’. Qualify,” she elucidates. Wow, how about that life-saver lingo, hey? Jake shakes his head, telling her that as soon as he’s got Terence packed, “We’re going home. Back to California.” 

Unbeknownst to Jake, Terence is within earshot. The boy has sat through conversations about his dead mother without batting an eyelid, but this announcement brings a look of utter horror to his face. Dropping a sausage (don’t worry, that’s not a euphemism), he turns and runs away…. 

End Of Part 1

*This “staring at the pounding surf” bit reminded me of the following (from Lori’s Mishmash Humor Page  http://www.geocities.com/CollegePark/6174/humor.html):

__________________________________

 Bonus Feature:

1.   American men and women spend 15 percent of their days running in slow motion along the beach. 

2.   Americans almost drown an average of two times each hour. 

3.   Despite the habit of breathing water, CPR always works and no one actually dies, except from cancer.

4.   People in the U.S. look thoughtfully at the ocean for an average of 15 seconds after being told anything of any importance.  

5.   Americans never worry about getting enough to eat, but fat people are unreliable and sometimes evil.  

6.   Most American women have abnormally large breasts that are worshipped via close-ups for an average of two minutes and thirteen seconds per hour. 

7.   When swimming in California, you are more likely to be attacked by jewel thieves or taken hostage by terrorists than you are to drown. 

8.   Most activity that takes place off the beach occurs in montages and lasts no longer than two minutes. 

9.  Although Americans, especially lifeguards, complain that they are poor, they all have expensive sports cars and luxurious homes. 

10.  Motorboats, unlike cars, will not talk back to David Hasselhoff.

End Of Part One

Go to Part Two Now !!

-Review by Liz Kingsley