As a millennial and aspiring writer in my mid (to late) twenties, it’s not often I find myself fucking stumped for words.
But after catching wind of and watching an A Current Affair segment that aired last night, on what must have been a pretty slow news day (it wasn’t), I found myself quite numb in the brain and staring into the abyss, praying for literally any other stimuli to snap me out of it. Thankfully, a dog barked next door and I was able to continue on living my life.
In the seven-minute and fifteen-second clip that could be used to break the spirits of even the toughest of prisoners, A Current Affair follows around Novak Daniels, 18, on his quest to find entry-level work on Queensland’s Sunshine Coast.
It’s heavily implied that “No job Novak” (yes, that’s what they refer to him as) is unemployed for one reason and one reason alone. Not the pandemic, or Australia’s biggest ever recession, but his punky aesthetic. Green mohawk, piercings, makeup, torn clothes. See, here:
This clearly is a job for the ACA team, Australia’s answer to ‘The Fab Five’. They are the experts because they are people that have jobs, DUH!
To avoid confusion for their audience, the A Current Affair production team has Novak explain has never and would never hurt anyone. Phew! Glad we cleared that up. Audience = won over.
As Novak hands his resume into a fish ‘n’ chippy, a cafe, and a hardware store, A Current Affair wastes no time or expense whipping out enough hidden cameras to catch a ghost fucking your mother.
The workers’ faces are all blurred, as they say, “Sorry, the manager isn’t here at the moment, but I’ll take your resume”. It’s clearly a cruel world for Novak and only Novak.
Next, it’s to the bathroom where Novak does somewhat of a make-up tutorial, while the ACA host Chris Allen fights off a brain aneurysm trying to understand why everyone doesn’t want to just wear collared check shirts all the time.
Chris does his best to get to the bottom of the matter by asking the same question in a different form 35 times. “Do you ever think to just not wear this?”, “Wouldn’t it be simpler to just not wear this?”, “When do you think you will stop wearing this?”.
When Chris doesn’t get the answer he is looking for he turns to Novak’s sweet dad, Murray for answers. “Do you think you should tell your son to not wear this?” asks Chris.
“No, I’m proud of him,” Murray says.
As Novak has clearly has lacked good parenting, it’s time for the ACA team to step in. From here it’s basically just an episode of Queer Eye as they decide to give him an “A Current Affair Makeover”. Chris arrives at Novak’s door like a hero, providing aid to the neglected child (collard shirts).
What follows is a transformation montage to rival an 80s movie.
The chains are lifted.
The mohawk is deconstructed and spray painted brown.
An awkward Zoom call intermission sees Novak being assured that he can tuck his shirt in for an interview and the wind won’t change and turn him into Chris forever, a valid fear for sure.
The montage resumes and the makeup is wiped away.
And we get ready for the big reveal.
Drum roll please…
Ta-da!
It’s Novak’s Cinderella moment. It’s Sandy in the final scene of Grease, it’s Anne Hathaway in The Princess Diaries. Surely now finding a job will be a piece of cake for Novak.
Time to put Novak’s new get up to the test. The hidden cameras are back.
“We aren’t hiring right now but you never know, we’ll take your resume”. Shit, no luck. :(. HOW COULD THAT BE POSSIBLE?
To finish off, Novak says he is a hard worker and employers and people in general should stop focusing on looks, give everyone a go, and don’t judge a book by its cover. Of course, A Current Affair play punk music so loudly every time Novak talks you can hardly hear him.
Then back to Tracey after this confusing segment who humbly says:
“As a result of us promoting Novak’s story, he has been offered a job in rural Victoria, but wants something closer to home.”
Onya, Trace.
You can watch the segment here.
