According to a comprehensive study done this year by the Baker IDI Heart and Diabetes Institute, Australia claimed the highest national per capita rate of adult obesity, overtaking the United States. This begs the question: what has fueled the transformation of skinny, marsupial-enthusiast surfers with great accents into unappealing couch potatoes? My very scientific answer: great television. I can’t help but think that, in a country with more outdoor adventures than even the guy from “Man vs. Wild” can handle, there must be something compelling keeping Aussies indoors and clutching sweaty cans of Fosters.

More specifically than just Aussie TV in general, I point to a kind of irreverent humor that grew out of the unintelligible British model of comedy and into something that could feed the oversized hunger of the colonies—Australia and America alike.

One excellent and hysterical example of this is “Summer Heights High,” which was a 2007 hit in Australia before premiering in syndication several weeks ago on HBO.

The format of the show is a “mockumentary” that follows life at a public high school in Australia by means of three characters: Mr. G, the school’s drama teacher; Jonah, a Tongan troublemaker; and Ja’mie, an exchange student from an all-girl private school. The setup sounds familiar, but all three characters are played by the same guy, Chris Lilley, who also writes the entire show.

Lilley’s chameleon-like ability as a character actor is unmatched even by greats like Mike Meyers, and to say his roles are “well researched” is an understatement, as he truly becomes each of them. (I didn’t realize he was playing all three until 15 minutes into the premiere.)

Because of his performance, a large part of the show’s comedy comes from the truth Lilley presents in various forms; the rest comes from the absurdity of watching a grown man, dressed in a schoolgirl uniform, trying to seduce a ninth grader.

Each of Lilley’s characters are reflections of people anyone who has ever been inside a school will instantly recognize. Mr. G labels and guards his personal belongings in the teacher’s lounge. Ja’mie comments “Oh my god, public schools are so random!” and talks about “public school sluts.” And Jonah makes extensive use of the word “homo” and the phrase “fuck you, Miss!”

While many scenes in the show play out in a way reminiscent of the awkwardness of “The Office” or a Christopher Guest film, the show crosses myriad lines on the less policed airwaves of HBO. Ja’mie explains that she has “small boobs” because of an eating disorder. Mr. G writes and casts the school musical, which is based on the life of a female student who overdosed on ecstasy. Jonah fabricates a story that his father is molesting him.

If you haven’t seen the show yet, you are probably far from convinced that any of this could possibly be funny. The fact that one scene involves Mr. G conducting dance instruction with the school’s “specials”—played by children with Downs Syndrome—probably won’t help either. I’m not going to make any excuses for Lilley’s poor taste, nor for my own laughter.

Though there is still a slight learning curve to understanding Australian humor, the transition is nearly effortless compared to any number of British TV sitcoms. British humor has always been a kind of a cliché in America, one with a tendency of living up to its stereotype.

For example, “The Office” had to be translated into a Steve Carrell version in order for American audiences to buy in, and “Little Britain USA,” which also premiered around the same time as “Summer Heights High” on HBO, has had a mixed reception.

Australia and America aren’t so different after all. Besides just the issue of obesity, the United States and Australia share high incidences of drug use and drunk driving. Attracting a large number of immigrants, Australia also has many of the same social problems that America has with race and religion. Both have struggling public education systems. Both are political and military allies on nearly every point imaginable, and they are both many times larger than the country that colonized them, England.

“Summer Heights High” is able to address a broad range of social problems with incomparable lightness—a lightness that makes you laugh and at the same time realize the disturbing truths of adolescent life and our education system. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing to laugh and be slightly offended at the same time. Although “political correctness” came about as an honest means to protect each other, we, in America, have created a culture crippled by its own over-sensitivity. It’s difficult to fix problems that we are afraid to look at.

Though our countries are on opposite sides of the world, we can still trace the common ancestry of our humor. It’s possible that they evolved convergently, once separated from Commonwealth jokes about dead birds and the Queen. “Summer Heights High” is definitely worth watching—not just for the laughter you’ll apologize for later, but also the important questions it could force us to face. And if my arguments haven’t convinced you, check it out because “Entourage” sucked this fall.

—Columnist Andrew F. Nunnelly can be reached at nunnelly@fas.harvard.edu.