Once upon a time, while browsing the aisles of Los Angeles’ now dearly departed Samuel French Bookshop, a candy store for actors and writers, I came across an instructional CD. It claimed to assist the aspiring Oscar winner in mastering the Australian accent, which the CD had handily broken down into roughly a dozen different “Australian” archetypes (including, I am very sorry to say to those in Aotearoa, a single “New Zealand” accent).
Having seen many try, and fail, to nail an Aussie accent on film, I gathered that it was up there with the trickiest accents an American or British actor might attempt – like 19th century Irish (RIP Tom Cruise) or whatever pan-London accent Don Cheadle was offering in Ocean’s Eleven. What, I wondered, were the cornerstones of its teachings? Learning to sing the real lyrics of Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again? Ordering a pie and sauce at the milk bar?
