Autism on Screen: Bold Representation in ‘Austin’ Overshadowed by Weak Comedy

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A star rating of 3 out of 5.

Autistic characters on the screen are not common, and it’s extremely uncommon for those roles to be portrayed by actors who are themselves autistic.

Ben Miller and Darren Ashton’s latest BBC comedy, Austin, offers an authentic and uplifting perspective on autism beyond the typical cliché of autistic savants. Though it may just provide a brief peek into this spectrum throughout its eight episodes.

The narrative commences by introducing Austin Hogan, portrayed by Michael Theo from Love on the Spectrum, who is autistic and works as a forklift operator in Canberra. We find him concluding his shift at work.

His colleagues wish him luck as he gets ready for an apparently long-awaited encounter with the cherished children’s author, Julian Hartswood (Miller).

Julian embarks on a tour across Australia, accompanying him is his spouse, Ingrid (played by Sally Phillips), who also functions as the illustrator for his latest publication. This show, titled ‘Austin’, has a dual Australian-British origin, but it predominantly exudes a British atmosphere.

When Julian shares a controversial viewpoint from a notorious neo-Nazi about freedom of expression, his upcoming interactions and public image are swiftly terminated and tarnished. To quote Justin Timberlake, this could indeed “end the tour”.

The situation continues to deteriorate as they try to save their tour’s Canberra leg by arranging an independent gig, but instead, they find themselves setting up in a store filled with Mein Kampf, which happens to belong to Australia’s most polite neo-Nazi. Ingrid voices her concerns about the neo-Nazi aspect, to which he responds, “I understand your disgust.

Into this developing farce walks Austin, claiming to be Julian’s long-lost son.

Moved outside the bookstore, the trio continued their conversation about Austin’s investigation into his origins at a nearby café. “For how long are you able to dedicate yourself to this bonding process?” Austin inquired.

For the self-centered Julian, the solution doesn’t take long to surface. This becomes particularly clear when Ingrid performs some calculations and discovers that Austin was conceived during the latter stages of her relationship with Julian, which leads to her becoming upset and leaving in a huff.

It’s no surprise that Julian neglects Austin. However, when Julian’s publisher discovers he has an autistic son who was previously unknown, they propose this could serve as an excellent public relations opportunity to restore the author’s tarnished image.

The series follows quite predictably, given its portrayal. Starring Theo’s captivating performance and the unexpected authentic representation of autism, which Theo himself contributed to as a script consultant – it’s important to mention this. However, the scripted comedy aspect is somewhat routine, with moments that subtly satirize how media sometimes exploits minority voices but generally lacks in humor.

In my humble opinion, the humor in Austin’s latest production feels a bit undercooked at times. It’s somewhat erratic, with gags that seem to float aimlessly, as if they were waiting for an audience cue before landing effectively.

Jokes about Austin are usually indirect, often poking fun at Julian’s tendency to overstep as a savior. However, many jokes find humor in Austin’s straightforwardness or the misunderstandings that occur due to his lack of familiarity with social norms, which some people find entertaining.

In simpler terms, while a typical audience might find humor in that, many autistic individuals might appreciate being part of the joke’s context, but unfortunately, it could also happen that they perceive the joke as at their expense.

Austin makes a point to portray its main character’s autism in a positive light, and it’s important to note that humor related to disabilities, when done sensitively and respectfully, can indeed be appropriate and effective.

However, though it manages to distance itself somewhat from the misleading portrayals found in shows like The Good Doctor and Extraordinary Attorney Woo, it unfortunately continues to struggle with the stereotypes and pitfalls that have long plagued such early depictions.

Unfitting stereotypes portrayed in media, such as Austin being portrayed as childish, which contrasts with what we observe on screen. For example, Austin’s mother doubts his ability to cope with the challenges of traveling to London, despite this not aligning with how Austin is presented on screen.

However, every aspect of Austin portrays a self-reliant and confident person who often challenges the beliefs of those surrounding him.

A powerful and uplifting portrayal rarely found in mainstream media is what we’re dealing with here. Yet, if the goal behind perpetuating these worn-out stereotypes was to challenge them through Austin’s character, the outcome appears more bewildering instead. This confusion seems to echo a persistent issue with Austin’s identity development.

This production isn’t focused on autism as a topic, instead it’s predominantly a humorous exploration of change, featuring an autistic character. That’s wonderful! It’s not a token attempt at inclusivity by neurotypical creators aiming to show solidarity, but rather the kind of production that autistic and broader disabled audiences have long been yearning for: a series where disabled characters, portrayed by actors with disabilities, are simply part of the story.

Austin provides room for various subplots within the story, and Ingrid’s journey through the art world while navigating a complex romantic and professional relationship with a man who betrayed her is particularly captivating.

As a film enthusiast, I must admit that while this movie seems to touch upon the subject of autism, it falls short in delving deeply into the intricacies of autism itself, particularly Austin’s unique experience with it.

Austin tends to steer clear of the intricacies and challenges associated with autism and its characteristics, opting instead for mild chuckles and maintaining a rather simple, BBC-esque style of humor that seems somewhat elementary in the end.

The comedy isn’t necessarily poor, but since it comes from an environment that rarely delves into autism and broader disability issues, it might not be as forgiven as other mediocre comedies. Austin, in this context, is part of a media landscape that seldom explores these topics deeply.

Austin, with its unique portrayal of autism and favorable characterization, stands out as an anomaly in media. Regardless of whether this is unjustified or not, it implies that it can’t simply blend inconspicuously into the general landscape.

While it’s understandable for such a sincere, yet possibly overly sincere, series to aim high, my thoughts frequently wandered during these eight engaging episodes showcasing exceptional autism portrayal: shouldn’t our representation be connected to a comedy that genuinely makes people laugh?

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2025-04-04 16:34