In Praise of the Queen's English

Hurrah for the Queen's English!

I'm going to try and make what I am sure, in these times of shorter joke books and disappearing humour in general, is a controversial argument:

It's a good thing that everyone on HBO sounds British. First off, it makes things much easier than reading subtitles or deciphering Brad Pitt's questionable accent collection. It also makes us stop focusing on how "foreign" everyone is, and instead focus on how their problems might actually be very similar to ours.

Again, as is so often these days, my starting point is the amazing HBO series Chernobyl. And, no, I am not obsessed. How dare you? I merely find it amusing that KGB men talk with Cockney accents, while coal miners from Tula are, of course, Scottish. I suppose the miners could have been made Welsh, but then even the English wouldn't have been able to understand them.

It's not just Chernobyl, of course. Thanks to I, Claudius, I was well into my teens before I realized that Roman Centurions did not actually sound like Patrick Stewart. This was a shock.

Of course, there are very good reasons for this. There are a terrific number of very well trained actors swanning about the UK. There, they seem to go through some sort of Jedi Academy, so instead of just being "discovered," they are actually "trained." This makes a huge difference. Ever notice how few American actors can do convincing accents? The aforementioned Mr. Pitt is a serial offender; although, in his defence, I think Guy Ritchie forced him to be indecipherable in Snatch for the sake of a cheap Pikey joke. Only the most "trained" North Americans, like Kevin Kline and Christopher Plummer, can actually convince they are not from Toronto or Newark.

Yet the Brits seem to manage this with ease. Thanks to years of voice training (I know this because I took a year of it myself, from a lovely English lady), they seem to be able to switch off even the thickest Mid-Lothian burr with ease. How many Americans would ever suspect that half the cast of Band of Brothers took a train to the set instead of a plane? Because they had UK passports? Many fans of the talented Damian Lewis still probably haven't realized that in real life, the man needs subtitles to be understood.

Good segway: Subtitles. Why can't we do that? I've watched many lovely and enlightening foreign films with subtitles, such as the excellent German films Downfall and The Lives of Others, as well as the beautiful Japanese movie Departures. Aren't I smart?

The trouble is, most people don't "do" subtitles. For them, anything involving reading reminds them too much of going to school. I sure picked a great time to be a writer, didn't I? I've actually had a very intelligent and well-read friend tell me he just doesn't bother with subtitles. Too distracting, he says. Personally, I think he's expecting a whack on the head from a nun if he misses something. Talking to you, Jim.

How about dubbing? Well, only if you want people to think of your "serious drama" in the same league as Godzilla vs. Mothra on 1970s Swedish soft-porn. Getting actors to do accents? See above, God no.

That leaves us with the Queen's English. Sorry, chaps. Apparently, and it's actually been explained to me like this by someone in "the business," this is the industry's reason for making First Century Rome and the Soviet Union, 1986 both sound like BBC 2.

The two biggest markets for English language TV are the two biggest English-speaking countries, by population: The US and the UK. In American homes, the conversation when the question I ask in this essay comes up probably goes something like this:

"Harold? Ya ever wonda why all them guys in Russia sound like Limeys? I mean, don't they talk Russian over there?"

"Janice, if they was speakin' Russian, could you understand it?"

"No."

"Then that's why they're talking English. Like Limeys. So it sounds exotic, or whatever."

"Ohhhh. But not, too exotic, like, you know, Mexicans?"

"Yah. Right."

"Is that why we're building a wall?"

"Shutup will ya? The show's on again. I wanna see what happens to this guy with the funny glasses."

In the UK, the same conversation probably goes something like this:

" 'arold? Wot's it all about? Why do these Russians sound like they're from Basingstoke?"

"I dunno, Janice. Maybe it's because they're speaking proper bloody English, innit?"

"But they're Russians, 'arold."

"I know they're bloody Russians, you bint! Could you bloody understand Russian?"

"Is that why we voted for Brexit, then?"

"Mind the bloody telly, it's on again. I wanna see wot 'appens to this fella wif the great bloody specs."

So, basically, the Americans think it's exotic... but not too exotic. And the British just think that's the way everyone ought to talk.

But I think there's a hidden advantage to this seemingly xenophobic solution. While Harold and Janice are not reading subtitles or deciphering Pitt accents, they are focusing on the man with the glasses, and what's about to happen to him.

This man no longer seems so foreign. He could be arrested by a KGB man who sounds a lot like PC Clarke. Or be driven to suicide by a clone of Boris Johnson. In short, his problems are what counts. Not his accent.

It's much easier for our limited chimp brains to identify with people who either sound like us (UK) or sound much smarter than us (US). So, perhaps Harold and Janice will get a lot more out of Chernobyl if everyone sounds like they're from Basingstoke. Just a thought.