HBO-Hotstar Split = Game Of Groans; + The Joys Of Cunk

A Savant Skewers History, Hilariously

Depending on how you view it, Cunk On Earth is either the most brilliant take on world history, or — as it seemingly wants us to believe — the stupidest. Prahlad Srihari writes.

“Were numbers worth less back in ancient times?”

“Which was more culturally significant: the Renaissance or ‘Single Ladies’ by Beyonce?”

“What is it about religion that can win us over so unexpectedly? Why do humans need to believe in something bigger than ourselves? Is it so we don’t feel quite so fat?”

THESE ARE JUST a few of the questions that distinguished academics and historians must answer — with a straight face — on the BBC-Netflix mockumentary Cunk on Earth. Who has put the interviewees in such an awkward position? The clueless but curious Philomena Cunk. The character was conceptualised as a talking head by Charlie Brooker on his satirical news show Weekly Wipe and brought to life by comedian Diane Morgan. In the 10 years since she made her debut, Cunk has enlightened us, with supremely confident ignorance, on the enduring significance of Shakespeare, the true meaning of Christmas, and the complicated history of the UK.

This time around, Cunk takes us on a tour from the era of cavemen to our streaming age. Human history gets a zany reappraisal. Julius Caesar was “the most notorious Roman until Polanski”. Egyptian hieroglyphics were old-timey “emojis”. Mummification wasn’t too different from the spa treatment that Gwyneth Paltrow gets every week. Christ being nailed to a cross was “a great logo...for his long-term campaign”. The Dark Ages stymied human progress, putting a brake on 5G rollout for centuries. By finding inexact modern equivalents to past events, Cunk on Earth revels in the absurdities of history and reveals how relative our perception of it is.

THE CONCEPT is incredibly simple: Cunk poses pundits the most bizarre questions with a false fact, an incorrect pronunciation or a malapropism; the pundits look to correct and seek to clarify; hilarity ensues. Between posing bizarre questions and making outrageous remarks, she segues into anecdotes about her uncle Steve’s Instagram account and her mate Paul’s many accidents. In each episode, a particularly droll segue sees her play up the cultural impact of Technotronic’s dance anthem “Pump Up the Jam”, the music video of which is subtitled with made-up facts like “this song is the national anthem of Canada”.

When Cunk walks around historical sites or talks to experts, she cuts a figure as self-assured as Sir David Attenborough. Calling herself a “landmark Documentary Presenter,” she attempts to capture the same mannered erudition of her more serious peers. Though the experts are in on the joke, her interviews don’t come off as scripted, and allow for a degree of spontaneity. Ashley Jackson, a professor of imperial and military history at London’s King’s College, even yields to discussing Russian vegetables when Cunk accuses him of “mansplaining” after an enquiry about the “Soviet Onion”. Cunk doesn’t blindside interviewees, like Ali G or Borat. The joke is very much on her, not the experts. But in their exchanges, she manages to draw out odd insights.

Continue Reading

VIEWPOINT

HBO's Loss Means Game Of Groans For Disney+ Hotstar (But Not Much Else)

By Manik Sharma

Editor's Note: This week, we're looking at the impending Disney+ Hotstar and HBO split from both sides of the divide. First, OTTplay's contributing writer Prahlad Srihari makes a case for why a subscription to the streaming service, without the benefit of either IPL or access to shows du jour like Succession, offers slim pickings (read here). From " MUBI for movies, Hotstar for HBO", Srihari says the mantra is now "Time to Mulan or move on!" . In a counterpoint, our featured writer Manik Sharma argues that in the larger Indian context, HBO's loss will make only a small ripple, and that Disney+ Hotstar's true opportunities for growth lie elsewhere (spoiler: think hyperlocal).

***

MONDAYS ARE DOWNERS BY DEFAULT, but waking up to one where everyone in the world has already seen the new episode of The Single Greatest TV Show Of All Time — the very episode that you can’t — is exponentially more hurtful. I’m obviously talking about the global phenomenon that is Succession. For those of us in India, this latest (and final) season is a cold reminder that despite streaming’s ubiquitousness, your favourite shows can still be kept from you — despite having paid for them in advance. (Sounds a lot like life!)

The HBO library’s removal from Disney+ Hotstar effective April 2023 has had many declaring this the death blow for the streaming service — just when it appeared as though it would stand, albeit bruised and bloody, after losing the streaming rights for IPL (and 3.8 million subscribers) last year. The HBO exit comes at a time when the premium television network is all set to take the global audience by storm. HBO loyalists, who steadfastly wait for the network’s immaculate content drip, have engaged in some naïve speculation on social media: Couldn’t Disney+ Hotstar have signed a two-month extension to broadcast this last Succession season? Or make some sort of exception for this one show? Still others conjectured that the move fit in with Disney’s plans to ultimately subsume and bury Hotstar’s identity altogether.

First things first: people will obviously find a way to watch Succession, the same way they watched content from HBO, AMC, BBC and all the big players from around the world, before streaming in this country made roundabout methods redundant. Let’s just leave the details of what these methods entail/ed to the digital natives who seem bemused by the level of alarm and indignation over Hotstar’s loss. Second, while HBO’s exit will be a setback for the streamer, the subscriber exodus is unlikely to be anywhere close to the one triggered by the lack of IPL.

Continue Reading

OUR OTHER NEWSLETTERS

This weekly newsletter compiles a list of the latest (and most important) reviews from OTTplay so you can figure what to watch or ditch over the weekend ahead.

Each week, our editors pick one long-form, writerly piece that they think it worthy of your attention, and dice it into easily digestible bits for you to mull over.

In which we invite a scholar of cinema, devotee of the moving image, to write a prose poem dedicated to their poison of choice. Expect to spend an
hour on this.