Not long ago there was a phase in the ever-unfolding practice of prejudice in Australia when a complex system of racial stratification applied.

Up top, by considerable measure, roosted all the white people. Towards the base, in loose descending order, came the minorities: essentially anybody considered slightly “swarthy” in complexion, followed by African Americans, Indians, Chinese, Africans, Fijians. Right down below, beneath allcomers, was the wretched Aborigine.

Other forms of ranking occurred within these classifications of course, particularly when it came to the “Abo”: labels such as “full-blood”, “half-caste”, “quadroon” and “octoroon” were common – but this blood quantum could be reduced to fractions as absurdly minute as 1/128ths whenever the bureaucratic inclination arose.

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This “enlightened” reasoning was still ubiquitous in Australian society when I was a young fella in the late 70s and 80s. I witnessed it in the city, in regional towns, in quaint country villages and in the bush. It even persists today in varying intensities across certain sections of contemporary Australian society, but back then it was so rampant that some blackfellas identified themselves as Indian or Sri Lankan just to make life marginally easier for themselves.

This social environment is the context for much of the drama in a new four-part ABC web series centred around the early life experiences of Birri-gubbah-Kunggandji-Kukuimudji man Boori Monty Pryor. Largely set in the inner-city north of 1970s Melbourne, and co-written by Pryor himself with Nick Musgrove, Wrong Kind of Black concisely portrays the racial tensions and Aboriginal rights issues that were waging amid the exuberant popular trends of the era.

Twenty-something Monty – played by Wolf Creek’s Clarence Ryan – has relocated from north Queensland to Melbourne, where as a former male model and now DJ at the vibrant Albion Charles hotel in north Fitzroy, he is cruising in style, replete with deadly ’fro, flares and funky chunky-soled leather boots. He is one superfly Aborigine, going by the stage name of “the Black Superman”. His mission: to deploy his decks to transform angry patrons into happy, drunk ones.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Clarence Ryan and Aaron McGrath as Monty and Paul in Wrong Kind of Black. Photograph: ABC

His practical smarts and his wit – traits imparted from his devoted mum and dad – enable young Monty to successfully navigate the racially fraught microcosm of the world he inhabits. Then, out of nowhere, his younger brother Paulie shows up and the disco begins to get somewhat more dicey.

For Monty, young “bada” Paulie (played by Aaron McGrath, who also played Jasper Jones in that film) is a reminder not only of home, but traditional cultural ties. A series of flashbacks convey the brothers’ boyhood up north on the “mish”. Amid the oppressive Christian regime of the mission, traditional ceremony is secretly maintained by their dad – played by the late Balang TE Lewis – who also begins to pass traditional stories down to his youngest son. Monty feels he has been overlooked.

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When Paul shows up as a brash, young fella in Melbourne, we understand that he has had past run-ins with the “bully-man” coppers, but is also now a custodian of their traditional culture. Although the brothers remain as close as ever, the dichotomy in place between the two of them is the mechanism priming the series’ climax and resolution.

Along the way the audience receives doses of Australia’s ugly racial ideologies and their immediate impacts – such as when an eager groupie ditches Monty when she realises he’s Aboriginal, not African. “Africans are alright,” a nightclub owner says at one point. “Even an Indian. You’re just the wrong kind of black.”

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Despite a low budget, Wrong Kind of Black succeeds in reproducing the look and feel of the era. Photograph: ABC

As Pryor, who narrates some scenes within the series himself, notes: it wasn’t just his colour anymore, but his race. Overall, Wrong Kind of Black is a quirky production. Targeted for the web, production costs for the series have obviously been kept to a shoestring budget, but it succeeds in reproducing the look and feel of 70s Melbourne and 1960s north Queensland.

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The scripting is notable, too. Repeated portrayals of the racist incidents never feel clunky or laboured, the tragic elements of the script are poignant, and it is often laugh-out-loud funny, infused with an unmistakable and uniquely Aboriginal style of comedy: a blend of slapstick, some dry, sharp wit, and a big helping of very, very black – occasionally absurdist – humour.

In his role as an educator and a past children’s laureate, it’s estimated that Pryor has worked with over a million students; and like his children’s books and young adult fiction, Wrong Kind of Black is essentially about finding inner strength to endure hardships. It’s a message he’s taken to schools across the country, contributing to the recent groundswell of broader public support for Invasion Day marches, Naidoc week celebrations and other demonstrations of Aboriginal resilience.

In fact, it’s not a stretch to suggest that Boori Monty Pryor actually remains the Black Superman.

• Wrong Kind Of Black is on iView on Sunday 5 August, and screens in full on the ABC TV at 9.30pm that night

