On the face of it, British culture looks doomed. Our music industry is now borderline untenable, with grassroots venues shuttering at speed (125 in 2023 alone) and artists unable to afford to play the few that are left; touring has become a loss leader that even established acts must subsidise with other work. Meanwhile, streaming has gutted the value of recorded music, leading to industry contraction at the highest level: earlier this year the UK divisions of Warners and Atlantic \u2013 two of our biggest record labels \u2013 were effectively subsumed into the US business.<\/p>\n
In comedy, the Edinburgh fringe \u2013 the crucible of modern British standup, sketch and sitcom \u2013 is in existential crisis thanks to a dearth of sponsorship and prohibitively high costs for performers. Our film industry is at this point almost totally reliant on (dwindling) US funds; while Britain remains a popular filming destination due to tax breaks and appealing locations, the vast majority of the productions made here ultimately generate American profits.<\/p>\n
As the BBC, bedrock of our cultural life, lurches from crisis to crisis, the TV industry at large has been ruinously compromised by broadcasters\u2019 inability to pay for programming due to advertising cuts and ballooning costs. Like film, it has become dependent on international investment \u2013 to the extent that many are concerned that we\u2019ve lost the ability to make programmes exclusively for British audiences. Shows that cannot attract foreign money rely on goodwill, with directors, writers and stars of flagship dramas taking significant pay cuts just to get them made (see: the second instalment of the double-Bafta-winning Wolf Hall). Unlike US-based streamers, we are incapable of converting viewership into profit: ripped-from-the-headlines drama Mr Bates vs The Post Office attracted an audience of more than 13 million and still lost around \u00a31m, something ITV boss Kevin Lygo attributed to its lack of sales in other territories.<\/p>\n
Cool Britannia \u2026 Mr Bates vs the Post Office. Photograph: ITV\/Shutterstock<\/p>\n
How on earth do we sustain an uncompromising, idiosyncratic arts sector in these circumstances? One result of the globalisation of entertainment is that success is now judged by the number of nationally indistinct eyeballs or eardrums culture can attract. As a small island,\u00a0we are surely destined to matter less and less.<\/p>\n
Except something strange has happened. Amid this catastrophe, British culture is booming. Not only are we dominating the global zeitgeist, but we\u2019re doing so with art that reckons with our heritage and sensibility in unprecedentedly thrilling and nuanced ways. Look at\u00a0it\u00a0all \u2013 from the viral trends that capture the British psyche like never before to the music, TV and films that\u00a0grapple with the complex, often\u00a0contradictory British identity \u2013 and tell me we haven\u2019t found ourselves\u00a0in a golden age.<\/p>\n
I Used to Live in England is a very British love letter to Britain. By an American. \u201cI used to shop at Tesco\u2019s and buy meal deals,\u201d drawls musician Frankie Beanie, who released the track\u00a0in June under his Supermodel moniker. \u201cI used to say \u2018Go Tesco\u2019s\u2019 instead of \u2018Go to Tesco\u2019s\u2019,\u201d he brags before referencing Wetherspoons, his familiarity with UK garage (\u201cSo now I\u00a0can be the guy in LA that says garage instead of garage\u201d) and \u00a365 national rail journeys.<\/p>\n
Beanie isn\u2019t the only yank bypassing the tired tropes \u2013 afternoon tea, bad teeth, the word \u201cguv\u2019nor\u201d \u2013 to celebrate the real hallmarks of British life. Following 2024\u2019s Britishcore trend, in which TikTok users from around the world embraced our quintessential texts (Trainspotting), institutions (Greggs) and figures (Gemma Collins), this year has seen a\u00a0boom in all-round Anglophilia from across the pond: root causes include a romanticised perception of the UK as a\u00a0sanctuary from Trump\u2019s America and an unprecedented exposure to the nuances of the British sensibility via social media. \u201cI love England so much,\u201d declared Olivia Rodrigo during her Glastonbury headline set, citing Colin the Caterpillar, having a judgment-free pint at noon and English men, a reference to her current squeeze, the actor Louis Partridge. The pair\u2019s transatlantic coupledom forms a key part of the \u201cBritish boyfriend\u201d trend, fuelled by the surfeit of young British actors dominating Hollywood, that has made UK men an aspirational accessory.<\/p>\n
Viral hit \u2026 28 Years Later. Photograph: Miya Mizuno<\/p>\n
Elsewhere, there\u2019s been a global boom in popularity for the British content creators whose clownish provocation \u201cfeels equal parts Benny Hill, You\u2019ve Been Framed, and Nil By Mouth\u201d, as per Clive Martin, author of an article published by Vice in August titled How The World Fell in Love With a Summer of British Chaos. It seems like genuine familiarity with the UK has become a weird form of cultural capital: when New York mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani was asked about his listening habits, he waxed lyrical about the Arseblog Arsecast podcast and an extended version of One Pound Fish, a viral 2012 song by an east London market trader who ended up on The X Factor.<\/p>\n
Clearly there\u2019s a novelty factor to this internet craze iteration of Cool Britainnia 2.0. Yet there\u2019s substance, too: our wry fetishisation of mundanity and slightly crap small pleasures is finally being understood on a global scale. Meanwhile, in the more conventional artistic sphere, a\u00a0far more profound reflection of Britishness is all the rage.<\/p>\n