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Raunchy `Summer Heights' Puts HBO in Teen Town: Dave Shiflett
Bloomberg News | November 7, 2008

By Dave Shiflett

Nov. 7 Given the choice between going directly to hell and returning to high school, many of us would choose the former.

We're reminded why in “Summer Heights High,” an Australian “mockumentary” series debuting Sunday on HBO at 10:30 p.m. New York time.

The show is the brainchild of comic Chris Lilley, who plays its three leading characters: Jonah Takalua, a 13-year-old bully/juvenile delinquent; Ja'mie King, a graceless, 16-year-old transfer from a private school; and Greg Gregson -- Mr. G. -- the self-infatuated, power-tripping drama teacher.

Many viewers will likely be reminded of the good old days when we were trapped with such people nine months of the year, our escape options limited to moving away, getting high and being expelled or experiencing early death.

Of the three characters, Jonah is the most annoying, at least initially. He's been booted from two other public schools for setting a locker afire and defacing the principal's car with his signature graffiti -- a grandly drawn male member he enthusiastically replicates around the grounds of Summer Heights High.

He's got a thug for a father, attention deficit issues, reads at an 8-year-old level and deploys a vocabulary heavily reliant on the F-word.

Humble Dreams

Yet Jonah has his own humble dreams, aspiring to become a professional break dancer and even learning to read. He also wants to be liked, at least by his reading teacher, and one feels a bit of sympathy creeping in for the little lout as the series progresses.

Ja'mie, meantime, is rich, arrogant and none too easy on the eyes, or ears. During an assembly convened to welcome her aboard she graciously points out that while private school students are likely to be highly successful later in life ``wife beaters and rapists are almost all public-school educated.''

Like Jonah, her aggressive exterior masks an inner awkwardness and she too wants to be liked, though in the long run she may have been better off transferring to a convent.

Then there's Mr. G, a drama king of the first order. He misses few opportunities to strut his stuff before his captive audience, dancing about in a large pink sack and, as the series progresses, hatching a scheme to build a performance center bearing his name, complete with a 500-car parking lot to accommodate the crowds for “Mr. G -- The Musical,” a work in progress.

All For You

All of which, or course, is undertaken on behalf of his students.

“Most of what I do has a grounding in education,” he explains, while insisting his dynamic presence “gives them confidence.” A bit of patience is initially required, though after 10 minutes or so the characters start to grow on you. While short on knee-slappers, there are plenty of amusing takes on life at a modern public school, where students paint anti-rape murals and endure high-minded, and highly ineffective, attempts to mold them into productive, civilized human beings. The 30-minute opener closes with an example of progressive pedantry, a program called “Polynesian Pathways” designed to stave off unemployment, crime and drug abuse, a member of the teaching staff explains.

Jonah's reaction strongly suggests this path leads in the opposite direction; he's close to homicidal over having to wear a grass skirt, which he believes compromises his masculinity (he doesn't put it quite that way), nor is he particularly spooked when a guest speaker warns that bad boys sometimes end up behind bars.

“Were there girls in your jail?” Jonah bellows, following up with the eternal student inquiry:

“So when is this sh** over?”

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