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Hugh Grant and Nicole Kidman in The Undoing (supplied)
Hugh Grant and Nicole Kidman in The Undoing (supplied)

Pop CultureOctober 26, 2020

Review: The Undoing is here to fill the Big Little Lies-shaped hole in your life

Hugh Grant and Nicole Kidman in The Undoing (supplied)
Hugh Grant and Nicole Kidman in The Undoing (supplied)

The Big Little Lies showrunner and one of its stars are back with an addictive new limited series – and they’ve brought Hugh Grant along for the ride.

Nicole Kidman does a lot of walking in The Undoing. The new HBO murder-mystery miniseries features seemingly endless shots of her character, Grace Fraser, crossing busy Manhattan streets or wandering past one specific section of Central Park’s eastern wall, usually in some really great boots. To an extent, all that strolling is just narrative groundwork – Grace’s love of walking the city will pop up as a plot point before too long – but it also helps convey a clear message to viewers: we’re not in Monterey anymore, Toto.

Monterey, of course, is the Californian setting of Big Little Lies, Kidman’s previous project with TV writer David E. Kelley. There, the equivalent of Grace’s flaneuring was Reese Witherspoon’s car as it drove back and forth across the Bixby Creek Bridge; any walking occurred only on sandy beaches, in bare feet. I bring it up only because, at first glance, The Undoing seems to be repeating all the same tricks that made that show such a hit. Rich people? Romantical problems? Shocking murder? Lies big and small? Check, check, check and check. There’s even a fancy school, Reardon, around which much of the action revolves, allowing for plenty of school-gate gossip between Grace and her equally chic friends.

Elena (Matilda De Angelis) attends an extremely fancy school fundraiser (Image: supplied)

The impression that The Undoing is little more than the same show in a different location reaches its peak halfway through episode one, at a school fundraising gala. Like most on-screen parties, this is largely an excuse for all the main players to gather in the same room, Big Little Lies-style, with Kelley also fitting in a smidgen of that show’s modest class satire. Addressing a billionaire’s penthouse filled with guests dressed to the nines – Kidman in a particularly magnificent pleated Givenchy gown – the host for the evening asks them to dig deep, to ensure that “the name Reardon is always synonymous with diversity”, before auctioning off a glass of water, starting bid $1000.

But impressions can be deceiving. While The Undoing offers the same wealth-porn as its predecessor, and the same high-brow sort of soapiness, it’s an altogether more sombre affair. The story revolves around Grace, an in-demand therapist happily married to cancer doctor Jonathan (Hugh Grant); she’s daughter to the mysteriously wealthy Franklin (Donald Sutherland) and mother to teenage son Henry (Noah Jupe). As the show begins, Grace meets the very beautiful, very intense Elena (Matilda De Angelis) who, it’s clear, has an oddly erotic interest in her. Before Grace can offer Elena some much-needed free counselling, there’s a murder, and a disappearance, and Grace’s life quickly begins to unravel.

The Undoing is directed by Susanne Bier, the acclaimed Danish director whose previous TV work includes the John le Carré adaption The Night Manager, and she brings a chilly European eye to this very New York tale. Between Franklin’s cavernous, dimly lit apartment and the velvet and cashmere in which Grace swaddles herself, there’s a message being sent about the cocooning effects of money – and its limits when the shit truly hits the fan. That’s not to suggest The Undoing has particularly deep things to say about wealth and power; this is first and foremost six episodes of classy psychological-thriller fare. Think Vertigo or Gone Girl, or even the minor Julia Roberts movie Sleeping with the Enemy – but with even better hair (seriously, Kidman’s hair in this thing is spectacular).

Some family time with Jonathan (Hugh Grant), Grace (Nicole Kidman) and Henry (Noah Jupe). (Image: supplied)

As Grace’s husband, Hugh Grant is his usually charming and urbane self… and then quite rapidly not. The range he shows here may come as a surprise to viewers whose familiarity with his acting doesn’t extend much beyond period films and romcoms. But in fact he’s been this interesting an actor for years now, stealing scenes in everything from the sublime Paddington 2 – as the villainous failed actor Phoenix Buchanan – to Stephen Frears’ A Very English Scandal, for which Grant was nominated for an Emmy, a Bafta and a Golden Globe.

Some of the other casting choices are a little less successful. Three of the supporting actors, all of them portraying lawyers, oddly enough, are British and Danish actors employing American accents, with varying degrees of success. Each is more than fine in their part – especially Douglas Hodge (The Great) who seems to be cornering the market in shambling, dissolute middle-aged men – but you can’t help wonder why they didn’t just use the real deal instead. At least the Australian Kidman has had a quarter of a century to get the US accent really spot on.

But those are small quibbles. To the bigger question – is The Undoing the new Big Little Lies? – the answer is: not really. It has none of the crowd-pleasing wit of that show – but also none of the overblown campiness or wearying stunt casting. What The Undoing does have are shocking twists, end-of-episode cliff-hangers, a mystery that will keep you guessing, and some very, very good coats. And that’ll do me.

The Undoing starts tonight on SoHo and Neon.

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Pop CultureOctober 26, 2020

Top Town: The Kiwi game show that brought the nation together

Screen Shot 2020-10-25 at 5.34.25 PM

Timaru, Waihi, Greymouth and Woodville entered; only one could emerge the winner. Tara Ward looks back at one of the most exciting moments in regional New Zealand history: the grand final of Top Town.

It was a hot summer’s day in 1977 when 10,000 people gathered in Whangarei’s Okara Park to witness one of our country’s finest displays of powerful athleticism. Forget the 1990 Commonwealth Games, forget the last round of every episode of The Krypton Factor. The 1977 grand final of Top Town was the moment when New Zealand, a famously lithe and supple nation, hit our physical peak.

Top Town was the iconic show that travelled through heartland New Zealand each summer, bringing the regions together to compete in a series of ridiculous physical challenges. It ran for 14 years between 1976 and 1990, before being rebooted in 2009 for one lonely season. The show gave every small town the chance to become world famous in New Zealand, and celebrated community spirit with a prize of $9,000 (a whopping $72,000 in 2020 money) for a significant local project.

More importantly, winning Top Town earned the respect and admiration of the entire country. Nobody could rightfully take the piss out of Gore or Temuka if they had won Top Town. Nobody.

The 1977 grand final was a symphony of organised chaos, as teams from Timaru, Waihi, Greymouth and Woodville took their hopes and dreams all the way to Whangarei. They ran into the packed stadium like it was the Olympics, arms raised skyward, bodies resplendent in terry towel bucket hats and stubbie shorts. The crowd roared in support. This was history in the making.

The final involved a series of wacky challenges like ‘Dunk the Dude’ and ‘Zoom Zoom Joust’. Competitors slid along greasy poles while holding big balls, or ran in flippers while pushing a wheelbarrow, or rode tiny motorbikes while knocking balls out of a bucket. There’s almost a sexual energy here, as half-naked men hold fire hoses between their legs so other half-naked people could collect water in a bucket on the end of a long stick. Athletes slid and tripped their way around the greasy obstacle course, while on the sideline, super cool host Howard Morrison chewed on a Mintie and the cheerleaders spelled out their town’s name on their knickers.

This malarkey goes on for eight frenetic rounds, and it’s mayhem from start to finish. “I can’t explain this course, you’ll understand when you watch,” Morrison told the viewers at home, and it feels like the brains behind Top Town got raging drunk one night and came up with as many silly ideas as they could, then chucked in a giant trampoline and put it on the telly. It’s shambolic and unpredictable and completely bonkers, and makes for magic TV.

What isn’t so magic is the sexism of the late 70s, which is messier than the competitors after slithering through the Tarzan and Jane challenge. Female athletes are always referred to as girls, never women, and there’s even a Miss Top Town, whose beauty wins $100 for her team and some makeup for herself. Commentator Paddy O’Donnell describes the show’s female scorekeeper as “busting out all over”, and at one point, refers to “a little ginger there”. It’s not clear if he’s talking about a competitor’s injury or a small red-haired woman being carried on a wooden horse. I fear it’s the latter.

The good townsfolk of Waihi in their matching Waihi caps

Top Town became slicker over the years, and the 1986 finale is a slightly tamer affair that uses proper equipment and sensible colour coordination. The competitive spirit endures, as teams from Alexandra (“where the wind is so fresh you could slap it”), Waihi, Whangarei and Timaru launch themselves across swimming pools and into mud pits, through rubber rings and down slippery slopes until they reach the point of exhaustion. It’s every team-building day you were forced to do at work, only fun, and parochial pride at it’s finest.

The dream was over by 1990, but Top Town returned in 2009 in an almost unrecognisable format. Twenty-first century health and safety dictated filming had to take place over water, which made it more Wipeout than Top Town, while the affable slap-dash vibe of ye olden days was replaced with intense commentary from hosts Marc Ellis and Mikey Havoc. “I’ll bet she doesn’t make it across,” Marc says of one contestant during the finale, which was certainly not the vibe Sir Howard and his Minties went for in the late 70s.

The original health-and-safety-be-dammed version, still the best

Greymouth took the win on that beautiful day in 1977, having played a masterful game by saving their joker until the final round to score maximum points. “Heeeeeere’s Greymouth!” Morrison shouted, as Tony from Greymouth came forward to collect the winner’s cheque. Balloons were released, a bagpiper began to play, and off-screen, there was probably a lolly scramble for the kids. Tony held the Top Town cup aloft and then stuffed the cheque down his shorts, as Morrison signed off with a jubilant “thank you, New Zealand”.

We can only hope that a retro-hearted Top Town will rise again, but until that blessed day, the show remains a nostalgic gem from a time when adults behaved like big kids in the name of regional pride. The closest we’ve come to capturing Top Town’s unpredictable mayhem since then was Uncle Barry’s trip around the inflatable maze in Xventure Family Challenge, and can you imagine a whole hour of Uncle Barry-esque shenanigans on prime time television these days? Yes, please. Chuck in a slippery tarp and a bunch of big balls, and I am busting out all over.