New comedy horror series Gnomes understands just how delightfully daggy good Aussie TV should be

There’s a rich tradition of daggy humour in Australian film and television, running from Alvin Purple (1973) to Muriel’s Wedding (1994) to the inimitable ABC series Dog’s Head Bay (1999). These works embrace the cultural cringe of Australianness in a way that’s thoroughly disarming. It’s great to see Stan keeping this tradition alive and kicking, first with The F Ward and now with the comedy horror series Gnomes. Gnomes is, undeniably, extremely silly. The series opens with Nazis trying to resurrect the evil Gnome Queen – a larger than human statue resembling a garden gnome – in order to win the second world war. We then jump ahead to the garden-gnome obsessed small Victorian town, Nompton, population a touch over 4,000. We follow local constable Arnold Kipps (Asa Butterfield) as the town’s yearly “Gnome-a-Palooza” is run aground when the show’s “pièce de résistance”, to quote Mayor Lachlan (brilliantly played by Darren Gilshenan) – yep, the evil Gnome Queen – comes to life after Kipps accidentally touches the queen’s magic hatchet with his bloody hand. Alas, magic dust brings to life the rest of garden gnomes of Nompton. They proceed to run amok, creating havoc and slaughtering people in macabre ways. A zealous video store (“Videozone”) clerk, for example, played by TV comedy favourite Luke McGregor, is murdered by DVDs. More Gremlins than Hellraiser This narrative trajectory develops alongside the individual stories of the panoply of cliched characters who populate the town. There is the disaffected teen, trying to please his hardboiled dad; the ferocious young policewoman; the ex-girlfriend who’s returned to town with unfinished personal business; the horny housewife, and so on. While there’s plenty of blood and plenty of coarse language, it feels as light as an episode of a kids’ show like Round the Twist, definitely more Gremlins than Hellraiser in its horror. Garden gnomes are pretty weird things. Stan The premise of the show involves an uncanny group of objects – garden gnomes are pretty weird things – but it relishes in its silliness, the jokes so low-key that it’s hard for them to fall flat. Master gnome craftsman Tobias Black (Syd Brisbane), for example, we see in episode two, is working on a Game of Gnomes series, along with 50 Shades of Clay (garden gnomes in bondage gear). Mayor Lachlan is interviewed by journalists from Better Gnomes and Gardens. Butterfield hits just the right notes as the goofy but likeable rural Australian cop, a nice chap who probably has talent but is happy to cruise along as everyone’s favourite small town cop and friend. The cast is rounded out by several other notable Aussie TV actors, including Matt Okine and Brett Tucker as Police Superintendent Harvey Poll who arrives as Nompton to lead a restructure of the station for “efficient policing”. Extremely silly and extremely daggy The other elements of the show similarly feel low-key. This is one of its major strengths. The visual effects would give the first Power Rangers series a run for its money, the music is pitch perfect but utterly forgettable, and there are none of the (pretentious) cinematic flourishes that characterise the serious, boutique series that have come to dominate television drama. Though the show is ostensibly set in the present, it has a distinct late ‘90s/early naughties feel. As a daggy Aussie TV show, it’s pretty effective – it’s a bonus that the episodes are only 30 minutes, anything longer and the material would wear thin. While there’s plenty blood and coarse language, Gnomes is as light as an episode of a kids’ show. Stan The tone is right, and it doesn’t strain too hard. The good cast, comfortably predictable plot turns, low key visual treatment and comedy, and televisual look all make for a pretty rewarding show. It’s extremely silly and extremely daggy – but likeable and well made, perfectly suited to short episodic format. Nothing about the show is particularly arresting, but this is the point. There’s something deeply comforting about its aesthetic, and Stan seems to have realised that bodgy 1990s style Australian television taps into a daggy nostalgia sure to please anyone born in the last century. Gnomes certainly isn’t going to feature on anyone’s list of the top 21st century TV shows. For me, this is a distinct part of its charm. Gnomes is on Stan from today.