I have a secret shame. I watch Neighbours and I like it.
For years I’ve felt the judging looks and sneering comments when people find out I like to watch Neighbours. After clarifying that I like to watch the TV show and not my actual neighbours, the judgement is usually even harsher.
People think I’m lame and need to get out more. While this may be true, it has nothing to do with the quality drama that airs weeknights at 6.30pm on Ten. I think it is a great show and is as ingrained in Australian culture as the 4am kebab is to Saturday night.
I have long suffered my addiction to Neighbours. There were times when I watched daily and others where I thought I’d quit for good. It never lasted. I was always back for another hit of Harold Bishop’s latest do-gooding, Lou Carpenter’s next money making scheme, or Toadfish Rebecchi’s newest adventure in the House of Trouser.
I have never been able to quit.
In the past I’ve gone to some lengths to hide my obsession. I recently moved into a house with people I didn’t know. At first I was able to hide my problem. It was a (long) summer of non-ratings and hence no Neighbours. Eventually they found out. At first it was tough, but after a while we learnt to get along. My housemates learnt not to talk to me while I was getting my hit and in return I never looked at their computer folders marked ‘Stuff’. We all have our things.
Now Neighbours is in its 25th year and this week marks the 6000th episode. Because of this I’ve decided to come clean about my addiction and celebrate it with the world. I took the first step earlier in the year by admitting to myself I had a problem. The next step was to finally pay homage to my favourite TV show and take the pilgrimage to Erinsborough.
“Are there any Aussie’s on the bus?” asked our Neighbours tour-guide Phil. I shrank in my seat and evaded his question as he strolled up the bus. The other fans were mostly English and a few Irish including my friend or ‘cover’ for this purpose. For some reason people judged me less harshly about going on the Neighbours tour when they found out I was going with my Irish friend.
As we journeyed to the promised land Phil filled us in with the latest Neighbours gossip and we watched some behind the scenes documentaries about the show. We visited the sets and eventually reached the Mecca - Ramsay St itself. I was in heaven.
In true Erinsborough style the sky was blue and the sun shone. It was just like on TV! Phil revealed that’s because they never filmed outside if it was raining. At this point I felt a pang of sorrow for every Brit who ever journeyed to Australia under assumption the sunshine never ends here, only to receive three weeks of rain. I would hazard a guess that Tourism Australia owes quite a lot to programs such as this.* Maybe they should use Dr Karl or Libby Kennedy in their next campaign?
In Neighbours’ 25 year life there have been over 600 characters, half of whom have lived on the street. One of my all time favourite characters is the Ramsay St villain, Paul Robinson (played by Stefan Dennis). Always the schemer, nothing seems to be able to keep him down. His crimes have ranged from scamming friends in business, having affairs with almost everyone’s wife, and setting fire to the Lassiters complex resulting in the death of a man. All in a PG rated weeknight timeslot.
However, in true family-friendly Neighbours way, Robinson definitely seems to get his karma thrown back at him. Over the years he has been shot (by one of his five wives), strangled, almost drowned, pushed off a cliff (twice) and suffered a resultant leg amputation, survived a plane crash and fallen down a mine.
But has Robinson’s recent betrayals pushed things too far? Will the landmark 6000th episode of Neighbours be the final show for him? I, for one, can’t wait to find out.
Characters like Paul Robinson are just one of the reasons I love this show.
Without Neighbours who knows if the world would have ever known Kylie? Or Jason Donovan? Or Holly Valance? OK, I guess not every pop star it produced was great, but at least it gives Who weekly plenty of local celebrities to paparazzi for their ‘stars without make-up’ editions. Even Stefan Dennis dabbled in pop music with amazing results, as seen in the video above.
I also love Neighbours because the thought of coming home to it gives me the warm and fuzzies. Like a Bogan to an Ed Hardy sale I just keep going back for more. Everything about the show is wholesome. Even the name of the suburb is wholesome and meaningful – ‘Erinsborough’ reshuffled spells ‘Neighbours’ (with a few extra letters – thanks tour-guide Phil).
Neighbours is also a great reflection of the real life dangers of living in suburban Melbourne. These include but are certainly not limited to: being shot; being lost at sea, getting amnesia and returning to where you used to live and being recognised; getting kidnapped and put in a coma by your evil twin brother who then steals your identity, plants a bomb on a plane in an attempt to kill your father but ends up killing another family from the street. More fool you for not paying attention when something like this happens to you.
The thing I love most about Neighbours is that if you’re not laughing with it, you’re laughing at it. And isn’t a large part of being Australian having the ability to laugh at yourself?
So whether you’ll admit with open arms (like me now I’m finally free of my secret shame) or hate me for even suggesting the thought, Neighbours is part of the Australian identity.
Being the same age as the show itself I don’t remember every moment, so share with me some of your favourites and help me celebrate something which is a part of us. After all, everybody needs good Neighbours.
*NB: Please don’t ask me about Home & Away – as if I’d watch that crap!
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