1 week ago
15
The first series of Australian comedy Bump was an indubitably high-concept affair. Mere minutes after we were introduced to uptight, intellectually ferocious, all-round-type-A schoolgirl Oly, her life had been turned upside down. A sudden stomachache in the playground quickly progressed into vomiting in the school toilets then full-blown labour in the back of an ambulance – but know-it-all Oly (Nathalie Morris) had no inkling she was even pregnant. That the father was not her similarly nerdy boyfriend Lachie but a mildly delinquent classmate called Santiago (“Santi”) added even more world-shattering horror into the mix.
Birth did not magically bestow Oly with motherly instincts. “Get that thing away from me,” she snarled when introduced to her newborn daughter. But once the shellshock and fury had dissipated, she did manage to adjust, and Bump grew into a much calmer show about the maternal juggle. Granted, this balancing act involved lessons being interrupted by a wailing baby, but it still felt oddly relatable. In fact, by hurling such freedom-eviscerating responsibility into the lap of a teenage girl who had been led to believe the world was her oyster, Bump was able to highlight the universal unfairness of new motherhood: the sleep deprivation, the mastitis, the bleeding, the simmering jealousy towards the relatively unfettered father – these things happen whether you are 17 or 47 (although having your peers snigger over a gif of your face superimposed on the head of a calving deer is something most of us are spared).
But that was back in 2021; the show is now on its fifth (and final) series. Oly – still ambitious, but with her uncompromising edges sanded off by years of self-sacrifice – and the extremely sweet Santi (Carlos Sanson Jr) are married, their sassy daughter Jacinda is at school and the pair have another baby on the way. Bump is no longer about teenage parenthood; it’s not even really about parenthood at all. There are still some amusing riffs on the subject, including Oly meeting an unappealing gaggle of mums in the playground, and later being forced to plead for help from her solipsistic politician boss (Steph Tisdell), while experiencing contractions. But the show has broadened its focus over the years, with Santi and Oly’s respective extended families now equally centre stage.
It would, admittedly, be a very difficult show to pitch in its current incarnation: this is essentially now a dramedy about some relatively normal people and their relatively normal lives. But that’s an indictment of what kind of TV gets commissioned, rather than a criticism of Bump. Liberated from its original premise, Bump is now free to become something akin to a genuinely funny, satisfyingly realistic, and surprisingly cool soap opera. The latter quality is partly a result of the show’s distinctively Aussie vibe: the sunny backdrop and wholesome lifestyle telegraphs laid-back chill, while the characters regularly batter each other with brutal banter that is immediately shrugged off.
There are, however, some devastating moments. Series three saw Oly’s mother, Angie (played by the brilliant Claudia Karvan, who co-created the show with former journalist Kelsey Munro)), recover from breast cancer; this instalment opens with the news that it has returned, more aggressively than before. The scenes documenting her chemotherapy convey its toll and mundanity with a meticulous naturalism that is heart-wrenching. But the show also allows Santi’s bitchy Latina stepmother Rosa to look on the bright side of Angie’s mastectomy: “Now she’s a good swimmer, without a doubt – flat-chested and a flat butt!” Grappling with the possibility that she might die, Angie’s main concern is leaving behind two children – the pregnant and (briefly) unemployed Oly and her elder brother – the career-wastrel Bowie (a very amusing Christian Byers) – who qualify as “fuck ups”.
The show needs that sour tang in order to offset the dominant tone of deep-seated warmth. This fuzzy feeling is partly down to the action – we are constantly reminded that the characters really love each other – but it’s also a product of the time we’ve had to properly invest: making multiple series back-to-back has given us the chance to develop genuine affection for even ancillary characters, such as Oly and Santi’s respective best friends (and on-off couple), Reema and Vince.
It can be hard to find entertaining, easy-to-watch TV that doesn’t break the spell of believability with groan-worthy exchanges or fantastical lifestyle porn or ludicrous coincidences. But this show avoids those pitfalls: no wonder it’s been a huge hit in its homeland (even spawning a spin-off centred around Bowie as a teacher). It’s a shame it never cut through in the same way over here, but there’s still time to jump on board the Bump bandwagon before we bid this impeccably observed show a final farewell.
