Population: 11

Following on from the success of The Tourist (and season one in particular), streaming service Stan presents once more a lighthearted miniseries in which an international traveller finds himself completely out of his depth in outback Australia. Only Population: 11 is a complete and pathetic letdown.

Involved in illegal money laundering back home in Cleveland, Ohio, Andy (Ben Feldman) arrives in small-town Bidgeegud (population 12) looking for his estranged father Hugo (Darren Gilshenan). Hugo runs an UFO-spotting business out of the tiny remote town. But on Andy’s arrival, it turns out dad is missing – and when a body is found in his burnt out ute, presumed dead. Population 11 comes into play. It’s not happy families that brought Andy to Western Australia – seems he was using Hugo’s Australian details to park $250,000. And that money is missing just when it’s needed to repay the mob.

True to form, not everything is what it appears to be in a tiny town where residents are all running away from something. Secrets abound – and sacked journalist Cassie (a miscast Perry Mooney) in ostensibly helping Ben find who killed his dad sees the uncovering of those secrets as the pathway back to her old podcast job. Not that the likes of Aboriginal priest Jimmy (Tony Briggs) or publican Val (Genevieve Lemon), Hugo’s love interest, are in any hurry to help Cassie or Ben. But no-one knows anything about the missing money.

Pet snakes and crocodiles, swinging couples’ parties, roadkill meat pies, drug smuggling, police corruption, insurance fraud along with general pathetic malaise all feature as Population: 11 looks to (unsuccessfully) lampoon Australian outback tropes. The problem is that it just ain’t funny. A single paced Feldman verges on hysteria throughout and, with Cassie, creates a silly and wholly unconvincing investigative team. And by presenting the locals as stereotypes of themselves, the miniseries fails to create any level of interest in the fate of the town or the people who populate it.

Rating: 34%

’Nemesis’

Three successive Australian prime ministers, all Liberal, two ousted by their own party prior to general elections. Over three episodes, Nemesis presents a riveting insight into those nine years and the key players involved.

Tony Abbott (2013-15) ousted by Malcolm Turnbull (2015-18) who in turn was ousted by Scott Morrison (2018-22). Only Morrison remained in post for the entire elected period before losing the general election to the Australian Labor Party in 2022. Of the three, Abbott declined to be part of this engrossing miniseries of politics, ambition and power as colleagues past and present voice their opinions on the three men.

It’s a fascinating three parter with each of the episodes focusing on Abbott, Turnbull and Morrison separately. But there’s plenty of crossovers as both Turnbull and Morrison speak of each other as well as themselves of their time in office. But it’s the opinions of others that add that depth of intrigue in what is generally a toxic environment.

The only person you can trust is the one that states they would never vote for you says Turnbull of the time his leadership was opposed.

Importantly, Nemesis is not a mudslinging competition by the Opposition. With the exception of the Morrison episode and COVID when three State Premiers voice unexpected positive perspectives, Nemesis is almost exclusively Liberal/Coalition. When asked for one word to describe each of the prime ministers, an extraordinary array is offered. Insight is provided into the machinations of the Party Room where leaderships are won and lost – and not always politely. And of course, backroom chatter is in plentiful supply as opinions are voiced of the policies, their staff and the men themselves – and not always politely.

Rating: 73%

Director: Kyle Taylor

’Total Control’ (Seasons 1-3)

A fascinating if occasionally overly melodramatic drama series as we are taken behind the scenes of Parliament House in Canberra as indigenous independent Senator for Queensland Alex Irving fights for justice and equality.

Invited by Prime Minister Rachel Anderson (Rachel Griffiths) into the Senate to shore up her ailing government weeks before the General Election, Alex Irving (Deborah Mailman) has no intention of sitting quietly in the corner making up the numbers. She has demands. Negotiating her way through the complexities of a toxic working environment with Chief of Staff (Harry Richardson) far from committed is a challenge – with compromises made. Equally challenging is Irving’s home life back in Winton – a sick mom, a traunt teenage son (Wesley Patten) and university lecturer brother Charlie (Rob Collins) believing, like many of the indigenous locals, his sister has sold out.

Over three seasons and 18 episodes, Total Control provides an engrossing narrative of personal and political storylines as Irving stands on the independent ticket following Anderson’s ousting as leader by repugnant misogynist Damien Bauer (Anthony Hayes). It’s the independents who hold the balance of power as Bauer finds himself in opposition to Paul Murphy (Wayne Blair), Australia’s first indigenous PM. There’s no holes barred as Irving rips into Murphy whilst the ever-present Rachel Anderson, also as an independent, manipulates behind-the-scenes in looking to create a new centre party with her at the head.

Idealistic fiction and melodrama it may be, but there’s no denying the mirroring of the politics of politics as power plays, manipulation, compromise, threats, back-stabbing, underhand deals, racism, bullying, misogyny, gaslighting and more come to the fore over the eighteen episodes. Regional health care and deaths in detention were the initial concerns for Irving as she entered Parliament – and, with variations, they remain her primary concerns. But with a new, far more clued in Chief of Staff in Joely McKinnon (Steph Tisdell) to support her, Irving rides roughshod over naysayers, determined as she is to get her way – at any cost.

Rating: 70%

’Boy Swallows Universe’

A dark adaptation of the best selling coming-of-age novel by Trent Dalton, Boy Swallows Universe is a 1980s Brisbane tale. Eli and his selectively mute brother navigate life on the margins including the disappearance of their drug-dealing stepfather.

Precocious Eli (Felix Cameron) lives with his brother Gus (Lee Tiger Halley) in a run down suburban home. Well-cared for by mom, former addict Frankie (Phoebe Tonkin), and larrikin drug dealer Lyle (Travis Fimmel), it’s a happy home full of love and adventure. Baby-sitter and mentor to the boys is a convicted murderer (Bryan Brown) and Eli is penpal to a lifer. Life is never dull!

But always looking to skim a little off the top, Lyle disappears. And what’s worse, that same night Frankie is arrested and imprisoned. The boys are forced to live with their alcoholic, agoraphobic father, Robert (Simon Baker) fully aware of the local mob’s role in Lyle’s disappearance. They want to know just where that ‘little off the top’ is – and when Lyle keeps quiet, boss Tytus Broz (Anthony LaPaglia) sends his boys after Eli and Gus.

Poor Eli is confused – he wants to follow his heart and simply be good. And gain justice for Lyle. But the people around him do not make it easy. And as the years pass by, mom is finally released and 17 year-old Eli (Zac Burgess) gets to experience a different world to the opening episodes of a childhood five or so years earlier. But Broz is still in his sights.

Told over seven energetic episodes, Boy Swallows Universe with its dark humour is archetypal ’80s Australian trope. Mullets, thongs, Hawaiian shirts aplenty in this sprawling underworld tale that, in spite of it gritty, serious subject matter, is also full of heart. The final scenes may be gratuitously melodramatic and feel rushed after six and a half episodes of social commentary and childhood magical-realism, but as an adaptation, scriptwriter John Collee (whose credits include Master & Commander, Happy Feet and Hotel Mumbai) has captured the colour, exuberance and sheer joy of its source.

Rating: 73%

’The Tourist’ (Season 2)

Season 2 switches to Ireland from the Australian outback as Elliot decides, with the encouragement of girlfriend Helen, to discover his true identity. Naturally enough, they walk into a whole heap of trouble.

Elliot (Jamie Dornan) is content to continue travelling with former police constable Helen Chambers (Danielle Macdonald) who had been so supportive during his search to find his identity in the black comedy that was season one. Helen decides Elliot should find out more about his true self and they set off to Ireland – with Elliot kidnapped on their first day on the soil of the Emerald Isle.

Turns out Elliot is a member of the Cassidy family and he’s walked straight back into the family feud with the McDonnells he tried to escape from. Only Elliot has no memory – not of his mother Niamh (Olwen Fouéré), Frank McDonnell (Francis Magee) nor nemesis Donal McDonnell (Diarmaid Murtagh).
Not to be outdone, Helen finds herself captive by the dodgy Garda detective, Ruairi Slater (Conor MacNeill), assigned to the case and is been stalked by former partner Ethan (Greg Larsen). He’s seen the light and is a reformed man.

If it sounds complicated, it’s not. Over the six episodes, it becomes clearer as who Elliot is and why he left (no explanation for memory loss though) as the reasons for the family feuds become clearer. Unlike season one, however, there’s little in the way of suspense or that wry, entertaining mismatch of characters and plot lines. It’s all too dull and predictable – with absolutely no reason for the reintroduction of the tedious Ethan. He was the weak link in season one so bring him back for more tedious pedantry?

Rating: 35%

‘Faraway Downs’

A sweeping narrative of Outback Australia pre-World War II as a British aristocrat arrives at the remote cattle station of her husband determined to force him to sell it. Only he is murdered prior to her arrival.

A six part miniseries, Faraway Downs sees Lady Sarah Astley (Nicole Kidman) journey from England to the Faraway Downs cattle station in remote Northern Territories. Tired of her husband’s absence and the financial folly, its sale is her objective. Only her husband is murdered and the aristocrat finds herself pressured to sell at considerably below market value to ruthless cattle baron, King Carney (Bryan Brown).

Lady Sarah reluctantly joins forces with the rough and ready Drover (Hugh Jackman) to protect her interests – with romance the inevitable outcome. Formerly married to an indigenous woman, Drover is an outsider himself – society tongues are soon wagging in Darwin as the couple cohabit and informally adopt the indigenous bi-racial Nullah (Brandon Walters).

Caught up in the draconian Stolen Generations racial policy, the onset of World War II with a potential Japanese invasion along with underhand (read illegal) Carney tactics to force the sale results in a sweep of melodrama. Stunningly beautiful with glorious sunsets and aerial landscape-porn, Baz Luhrmann’s Faraway Downs is a visual feast. But it all becomes somewhat tiresome – Hollywood-style bombast and superficiality without the necessary rawer social commentary of Nullah’s desperate position of avoiding the authorities.

And, of course, Faraway Downs is simply the feature film Australia broken into five parts. A lttle editorial tweaking here and there altering the film’s focus and with one of the different endings filmed at the time replacing the cinematic release, it’s the outcome of Luhrmann’s COVID lockdown and time on hand.

Rating: 54%

‘The Kingdom’

The megachurch Hillsong comes under scrutiny by Marc Fennell, himself a former member of the world of Pentecostalism.

Generally avoiding the more scandalous aspects of Hillsong corruption (namely financial impropriety and the cover-up of sexual abuse), Fennell instead choses to focus on the appeal of such churches and the people within the congregations. The rise and fall of the multimillion dollar Hillsong from humble Sydney beginnings to its reach across the Pacific to the US is well documented. And Fennell uses available information to scaffold the rise not just of Hillsong but also other pentecostal churches in Australia: the fall from grace of one is quickly replaced by another.

The problem with The Kingdom is its lack of incisiveness. Fennell is essentially too understanding of the motivations and hustling behind the establishment of such churches. The charm of global leader Brian Houston and Hillsong Music was at the heart of the success story – greed, arrogance and power led to its demise. Fennell leaves only gentle Implication of those following in the wake of the vacuum left by Hillsong.

Rating: 40%

Director: Elise Potaka

’Scrublands’

Stereotypical Australian ‘stranger in outback town’ tale as investigative journalist Martin Scarsden looks to write an article on the recovery of a small town 12 months after a mass shooting that left five dead.

Traumatised and in recovery from a story that went tragically wrong months earlier, Sydney reporter Scarsden (Luke Arnold) is dispatched by his paper to interview residents and file a human interest story – 2 nights tops at the local motel. But nothing is what it seems as, initially, he is met with suspicion and hostility.

Hunky priest Byron Swift (Jay Ryan) was the shooter but the so-called random killings is soon apparent to be anything but. Through flashbacks from locals prepared to talk to him, Scarsden pieces together events leading up to the fateful Sunday. With support from single-mom and local bookshop owner Mandy (Bella Heathcote) and, unexpectedly, local police constable Robbie Haus-Jones (Adam Zwar), the jigsaw slowly fits together. The results, with a couple of more deaths along the way, escalate into something far wider in scope than ever anticipated.

Irritatingly, Scarsden fits the story together a little too easily and the final 15 minutes descend into melodrama that almost unravels everything that came before it. Yet, with all four episodes of Scrublands directed by Greg McLean (Wolf Creek, Rogue), it’s a cohesive, well-paced miniseries that, for the most part, holds attention. The location adds to that sense of uncertainty – a regional town long past its prime even before events 12 months earlier and where phone and WiFi reception is sporadic.

Rating: 59%

’C*A*U*G*H*T’

Absurd and irreverent topical spoof comedy series that fails to hit the mark, in spite of its potential of targetting media and global power sructures.

Four captured Australian soldiers on the independent island state of Behati-Prinsloo plead for their lives on a video transmitted around the world. The Australian government denies having armed forces in the region – as do the Americans. Unbeknownst to the sports-mad Australian PM (Bryan Brown), the soldiers are there under orders. Only the order is issued by an Australian general (Erik Thomson) for personal reasons and the need to destroy compromising evidence.

C*A*U*G*H*T being a comedy spoof, what follows is a farcical six part series that mixes geopolitical and environmental commentary, media reportage on terrorism and/or freedom fighters as well as the Stockholm syndrome in extremis and the leader of the four, Rowdy Gaines (Ben O’Toole), using the media coverage to promote his crowd-sourcing website to raise money for his daughter’s lifesaving medical expenses in the US. Oh – and there’s Sean Penn (as Sean Penn) parachuted in to try and save the day (and his own name) under the auspices of his NGO.

It’s all very silly and very very occasionally funny but also very Australian. Language and the use of body prosethetics (the proudest smile on the face of naked soldier Lincoln Younes gives you an indicator of one of the prosethetics) will be confronting for some. By commenting through comedy, tropes are inevitably ten a penny. The politically correct Alexander England, holed up in the island camp with his other three colleagues, is annoying but arguably the most successful of all characterisations (a view shared by rebel trooper Mel Jarnson as a love affair develops between the two). The least successful is the yellow and green track suit wearing PM and his constant use of sporting analogies (to the point the American ambassador has no idea what he’s talking about) as negotiations back in Sydney (no mention of Australian capital, Canberra!) try to get to the bottom of the escalating international embarrassment.

Hit and miss – but significantly more cringe-worthy miss than hit.

Rating: 37%

‘In Our Blood’

In this engaging, four part factional miniseries, In Our Blood looks to the fear and prejudice of 1980s Australia as the threat of HIV/AIDS becomes very real.

As the Australian Labor Party sweeps to a landslide victory at the 1984 elections, so expectation among the gay community is one of hope. David Westford (Tim Draxl) leaves his partner Gabe (Oscar Leal) in their home in Sydney on weekdays to become special advisor to the health minister Jeremy Wilding (Matt Day) in Canberra: a direct voice is established. But trust must be won.

Bigotry and violence is rife but through fictional characters and scenarios alongside a gender queer Greek-style Chorus dipping in and out of the unfolding narrative with a capella versions of popular songs of the time, In Our Blood tells the oft visited subject in a new and engaging way. And it’s not all about the boys – even though Westford occasionally feels his is the solitary voice. Arguably the most convincing trope is the leather clad Jada Alberts and her lipstick lesbian partner, Anna McGahan. Their apartment becomes a call centre and early refuge for those with nowhere to go as the campaign for increased awareness and a response by the authorities steps up.

It’s engaging but an unquestionably patchy four parter. We need to scare the shit out of them as uttered by Westford is the byeline in Canberra (and everywhere else) – and through clever and targeted policies and advertising, eventually they do. Yet, in spite of its subject, there’s a surprising lack of emotional heft and Draxl does not quite have the range needed to convince. Which is a pity for a miniseries with its heart in the right place that needed the gravitas.

Rating: 61%