Treat yo self! It's a motto for a reason. The Parks and Rec team taught us that everyone deserves a day of total indulgence once a year, and given how this year is going, we say you should stretch that to two. Two weekend days in Sydney, to be precise. The most unabashedly glam of the state capitals, Sydney will take you to 1930s Shanghai, mid-century Paris and 2000s Hamptons — all without you leaving the city centre. This is also the home of megawatt art and performance. Base yourself in the CBD and explore these decadences on your doorstep. EAT AND DRINK If you have the luxury to plan your trip a few weeks in advance, seek out a booking at one of Sydney's quintessential fine-dining establishments and put it right at the heart of your itinerary. A meal at Bennelong under the Sydney Opera House sails, a blow-out degustation at legendary Tetsuya's, a spread at ever-confident and classy Bentley or a taste odyssey at Peter Gilmore's newly revamped Quay (reopening this month, sadly minus the Snow Egg) — these are experiences you'll remember for months to come, let alone when your colleagues ask you what you did on the weekend. For your other meals, take a risk on some sophisticated newcomers. Restaurant Hubert, located in a dark and delightfully atmospheric basement on Bligh Street, is the one all Sydneysiders will rave to you about. Literally: it was our pick of best new restaurant in 2016, and the people's choice. In looks and menu, it's a marriage of olde-worlde European charm and contemporary finesse — think duck parfait with maple syrup jelly, escargot with house XO sauce, and kimchi gratin. If you're more in the mood to share a couple of stir-fries — but like, really excellent ones — head to David Thompson's upmarket Thai venture, Long Chim, or Dan Hong's enduring Cantonese venture Mr Wong, inspired by 1930s Shanghai. When it comes to pre- and post-drinks, let the city's sensational skyline be your guide. Don't miss the Cuban-inspired 'vista bar' Hacienda Sydney, with views that stretch for days. It's a garden oasis within Pullman Quay Grand Sydney Harbour where its always summer in the tropics, even in August. Afterwards, head to Henry Deane, the rooftop bar at pub The Palisades. Not only is it mostly enclosed, so you're sheltered from the winter winds, it manages an art deco-meets-Hamptons vibe, and its views are just insane. This is the spot to pop the top off a bottle of Louis Roederer Rosé Champagne from Rheims or put your trust in the bartenders to mix you a signature creation. The Opera Bar nearby is the ultimate in water's-edge drinking, while The Doss House in The Rocks lets whisky shine. Start your next day out in Sydney as if it were Paris — with a coffee and a pastry swiped from Bistro Guillaume. Owner Guillaume Brahimi is one of Sydney's fine-dining old guard, but his CBD venue is so relaxed it includes a takeaway patisserie. Hit him up for tarts, croque monsieurs and — of course — croissants. If it's a bigger morning fuel-up you're after, head further down George Street to The Grounds of the City — the CBD offshoot of Sydney's arguably most famous (and certainly most Instagrammed) cafe. DO A short break in Sydney's CBD is your chance to play art doyen for the day. Two of the state's main art institutions — the Art Gallery of New South Wales (AGNSW) and Museum of Contemporary Art (MCA) — are both parked here. Head to the AGNSW to catch the annual headline-making Archibald Prize exhibition, on all winter. You can make the most of the event by bundling your ticket together with a special themed high tea at the Sofitel Sydney Wentworth. At the MCA, the John Mawurndjul exhibition — I Am the Old and the New — is worth lingering over. The Kuninjku artist from west Arnhem Land is known for extremely detailed cross-hatching you'll want to study up close. If you make it into town on the last Friday night of the month, don't miss the MCA's after-hours event, Artbar. Between one gallery and the other, you'll find a trail of Sydney's finest shops. Start at the Galeries — home to style-makers Incu, Kinokuniya and Muji — before wandering through the historic Queen Victoria Building and The Strand Arcade, both lined with contemporary boutiques. Then, lose yourself in the higgledy-piggledy laneways of The Rocks — you might stumble on art, craft and jewellery finds. A night at the Sydney Opera House should follow. Opera is right there in the name, but the venue also hosts theatre, talks, contemporary music — if a cultural form is out there, the SOH has run it. This winter, look out for the Sydney Theatre Company's The Long Forgotten Dream, with real stars director Neil Armfield and actor Wayne Blair attached, as well as the no-holds-barred spectacle of Opera Australia's AIDA. Come September, you can go full 'Don't Cry for Me Argentina' with the arrival of hit musical Evita, or balance out the weekend's indulgences with Antidote — that's the name of the talks festival that this year is bringing out Chelsea Manning, Ronan Farrow and Ta-Nehisi Coates. And just because Vivid is over, doesn't mean all the sparkle has gone out of the sails. Every night at sunset and 7pm, you can see the sides of the Opera House projected with Badu Gili, a seven-minute graphic work based on First Nations stories from the area. SLEEP The thing that's really going to kick your Sydney short break into treat-yo-self territory? That's the quality of your digs. The Sofitel Sydney Wentworth, near the State Library and Botanic Gardens, is true five-star indulgence. It has a pillow menu, for starters (yes, you get to choose your pillows). It also has elegant rooms, a courtyard garden, a health club and a breakfast you'll have to see to believe. This has couple's retreat written all over it. If hot-tub time is a holiday mandatory for you, on the other hand, the five-star Pullman Sydney Hyde Park has your name on it. Head to the rooftop pool for epic views out over Hyde Park and the city skyline — or enjoy them from your own window if you choose the right room. For luxury closer to the bustle of George Street — and to get those sweet, sweet spa treatments — choose the Swissotel Sydney. The hotel is home to the Spa & Sport day spa, as well as a sizeable gym and heated outdoor pool and jacuzzi. Lest you overdo the health kick, the hotel has just added fondue to its menu Thursday through Saturday nights. The dipping options include mac-and-cheese croquettes, potato rosti and nashi pear. Help. Go to the AccorHotels website to book your stay in the Sydney CBD, and to discover more of NSW, swing by Visit NSW.
This Christmas, Disney+ is giving us all a shiny new present, with the streaming platform adding another Home Alone movie to everyone's festive viewing rotation. Right now, it's also kickstarting the merriment early — by dropping the first trailer for Home Sweet Home Alone, the fifth flick in the holiday-themed franchise. Pick a number between five and 100, and that's the average number of times you've probably watched the first Home Alone. You'll note that we haven't dared to suggest you've only seen it once, or twice, or even just three or four times, because we know how unlikely that is. We're guessing you've viewed the first sequel to the 1990 favourite quite a bit, too, because we all have. If you haven't given Home Alone 3 and Home Alone 4 as much love, though, that's understandable. Here's an important question for you moving forward, however: how many times do you think you'll give Home Sweet Home Alone a whirl? Available to stream from Friday, November 12, Home Sweet Home Alone jumps back into the franchise that's all about being left behind by your family at Christmas. On paper, the overall concept doesn't sound all that jolly — but as we all know, these flicks have been an end-of-year staple for three decades. And the Mouse House is messing with its winning formula here, either. This time around, a kid called Max Mercer is the focus — as played by Jojo Rabbit's Archie Yates. Obviously, he's left at home while his family goes away. They head to Japan for the holidays, he gets forgotten, and soon he's fending off a couple that's trying to break into his house. We all know how the story is going to go from there, with this remake even giving a screenplay credit to the original's writer/director John Hughes. Filmmaker Dan Mazer is in the director's chair on Home Sweet Home Alone, after previously helming I Give It a Year and Dirty Grandpa, and writing Bridget Jones's Baby, Office Christmas Party and Borat Subsequent Moviefilm: Delivery of Prodigious Bribe to American Regime for Make Benefit Once Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan. On-screen, Yates is joined by Ellie Kemper (Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt) and Rob Delaney (Wrath of Man) as the crooks trying to bust into Max's home, while Aisling Bea (This Way Up) plays his mother — and Kenan Thompson (Saturday Night Live), Tim Simons (Veep) and Chris Parnell (Rick and Morty) also feature. There have been rumours that Macaulay Culkin will make an appearance, too, but you'll obviously need to watch the full movie to see if that pans out. Check out the Home Sweet Home Alone trailer below: Home Sweet Home Alone will be available to stream via Disney+ from Friday, November 12. Images: courtesy of Disney+. © 2021 20th Century Studios.
Even the most adventurous of foodies have their limits, don't they? New documentary Bugs aims to put that idea to the test — and to make audiences squirm in the process. You don't make a film about two researchers from René Redzepi's experimental Nordic Food Lab exploring the culinary value and environmental benefits of eating insects without causing a reaction, after all. The eye-opening doco is one of 10 titles set to screen at the Antenna Documentary Film Festival when it tours to Brisbane from October 26-30. Regardless of how experimental your eating habits are, the flicks unveiled should whet the appetite of factual cinema fans thanks to a wealth of thought-provoking content. When the fest isn't trying to get viewers pondering their next meal, it'll be inspiring discussions about everything from a ladies man living with HIV to the impact of nuclear waste in a small Russian town. The former comes courtesy of moving opening night film The Charro of Toluquilla, while the latter informs documentary City 40, which examines the people trying to survive in one of the most contaminated places on earth. Aussie effort A Mother and A Gun, which has its world premiere at the festival, is also certain to get attendees talking as it explores the life of Shelly Rubin, the woman who fell in love with the leader of the Jewish Defense League. Elsewhere, environmental effort The Islands and the Whales and the latest chronicle of Bobby Sands and his famous hunger strike — as previously brought to the screen in Steve McQueen-Michael Fassbender collaboration Hunger — also feature among Antenna's list of films. The fest's 2016 lineup looks as varied as it is interesting. Images: Lloyd Dirks, Tom Truong.
Playa Takeria prides itself on being Sydney's authentic Mexican taqueria. So where better to spend Cinco de Mayo this year than under the gaze of their mural of saluting Frida Kahlo, where you can find cactus in your salad or corn smut (the delicacy/corn fungus also known as Mexican truffle) in your taco? Cinco de Mayo may originally have been a holiday celebrating Mexico whipping France back in the 1800s in the city of Pueblo, but it has become a day across the globe to celebrate all things Mexican and to ingest as much guacamole as you humanly can. For the festivities, Playa will be hosting a Cinco de Mayo Dinner Fiesta, with special edition tacos – including the Senioritas Taco, the Barbacoa and the My Hot Mexican — as well as $5 Coronas and $20 buckets of Corona. Head along between 11am and 3pm or stick around from 6pm until late and spend your Cinco de Mayo sharing an ice bucket of beers filled with limes and stuffing your face with some of the best Mexican fare in the city.
Not for the first time, the eyes have it, but then they always have with Tammy Faye Bakker. Not one but two films called The Eyes of Tammy Faye have told the 70s and 80s televangelist's tale — first a 2000 documentary and now this new Jessica Chastain-starring dramatisation — and both take their monikers from one of the real-life American figure's best-known attributes. In the opening to the latest movie, the spidery eyelashes that adorn Tammy Faye's peepers are dubbed her trademark by the woman herself. They're given ample focus in this biopic, as OTT and instantly eye-grabbing as they they are, but their prominence isn't just about aesthetics and recognition. This version of The Eyes of Tammy Faye hones in on perspective, resolutely sticking to its namesake's, even when it'd be a better film if it pondered what she truly saw, or didn't. In the path leading to her celebrity heyday and the time she was a TV mainstay, Tammy Faye's life saw plenty. It began with an unhappy childhood stained by her stern mother Rachel's (Cherry Jones, Succession) refusal to be linked to her at church, lest it remind their god-fearing Minnesotan townsfolk about the latter's sinful divorce. But young Tammy Faye (Chandler Head, The Right Stuff) still finds solace in religion, the attention that speaking in tongues mid-service brings and also the puppets she starts using as a girl. Come 1960, at bible college, her fervour and quirkiness attract fellow student Jim Bakker (Andrew Garfield, Tick, Tick… Boom!), with the pair soon married even though it gets them kicked out of school. Unperturbed, she keeps seeing their calling to the lord as their way forward, first with a travelling ministry — puppets included — and then with television shows and their own Praise the Lord network. From her mid 20s through until her late 40s, when multiple scandals spelled their downfall — involving Jim's alleged sexual assaults, as well as the misuse of funds donated to Praise the Lord by its loyal viewers — much of Tammy Faye's life was lived in the public eye, too. That gives both Chastain (The 355) and director Michael Showalter (The Big Sick) copious materials to draw upon beyond the original The Eyes of Tammy Faye, and also turns their film into a glossy recreation. There's no shortage of details to convey, but that's primarily what Abe Sylvia's (Dead to Me) script is content with. Depiction doesn't equal interrogation here, and does skew closer to endorsement; Tammy Faye's outsized appearance, her makeup and outfits getting gaudier as the Bakkers' fame keeps growing, can border on parody — it's camp at the very least — but that isn't the same as asking probing questions about the movie's central figure. Chastain serves up a performance that seems primed to delve deeper. With the exceptional Scenes From a Marriage star leading the show, the eyes don't just have it, or the hair that just keeps getting bigger, or the ostentatious clothing. In the twice Oscar-nominated actor's hands — with a third nod likely for this very portrayal — there's heart and soul behind Tammy Faye's larger-than-life persona, thoughtfully and sympathetically so. As she was with The 355, Chastain is also one of The Eyes of Tammy Faye's producers, and her investment in the part is apparent in every aspect of her portrayal. The film was clearly built around her work, which is excellent, but the picture plays like that's its whole point. Indeed, when it comes to seeing past the blatant, already-known and openly endorsed about its subject, and to genuinely unpacking her role in the prosperity gospel her husband promoted, the movie conspicuously stops short. The Eyes of Tammy Faye nonetheless gives its protagonist far more depth than decades of joking about her have afforded. It also keenly draws attention to the ways she masterminded her and Jim's success, pushed to be seen as an equal in male-dominated evangelical circles and broke with right-wing doctrine to promote god's love for all. In one of the feature's best scenes, the film shows her refusing to merely sit and gossip with the other wives as Jim hobnobs with religious media moguls Pat Robertson (Gabriel Olds, Amazing Stories) and Jerry Falwell (Vincent D'Onofrio, The Unforgivable). In another, it recreates Tammy Faye's emotional TV interview with AIDS-positive Christian pastor Steve Pieters (Randy Havens, The Suicide Squad). Still, it never escapes notice that Showalter and Sylvia choose not to connect more than a few dots, or to ponder if they should be. In their retelling, their point of focus is smart, astute and dedicated, but has the scantest of links with Praise the Lord's demise. As a result, there's too often a Wikipedia-meets-cinema air to The Eyes of Tammy Faye. While that's helpful for newcomers to the Bakkers, and there are fascinating titbits to cover — such as Heritage USA, their Christian theme park, which came third in patronage only to Disney World and Disneyland at its height — it's also the marker of a tame and standard film. Of course, the movie is unsurprisingly scathing towards Jim's clutched-to belief that god wants them to be wealthy, the tactics used to fleece his followers to put the idea into action and his preaching that faith is the path to riches, as it should be. (That's a line of thinking still trotted out in theology today, abhorrently so.) If only the rest of the feature had that bite, or more, as it luxuriates in its era-appropriate costuming and decor, and in its leading lady's compelling work. Early in the picture, in one of its displays of childhood dejection, Rachel demands that Tammy Faye "stop performing". Those words loom large over The Eyes of Tammy Faye, even with Chastain's performance its best element (and with Garfield turning in a fine effort as well). Frequently, the movie resembles as much of an act as Tammy Faye's take on femininity does — staging the minutiae for the world to see, but too rarely daring to peer past the caked-on surface. It ensures that its eponymous figure is embraced for more than her makeup, yet still stays skin-deep regarding the bulk of her complexities and contradictions. That doesn't make this a terrible movie, but it does spark a straightforward and simplistic biopic that prays for more gumption, bombast, pluck and verve.
When they were making All the Real Girls, Pineapple Express and Your Highness together, plus Eastbound & Down, Vice Principals and The Righteous Gemstones as well, did conversations between filmmaker David Gordon Green and actor Danny McBride go as follows? "Do you like all-time horror masterpieces?" one may've asked. "Is creating your own version of some of the genre-defining greats your ultimate dream?" the other could've responded. "What if we revived the best of the best from the 70s decades later?" might've been the enthusiastic next line. Then, as two of the driving forces behind 2018's Halloween and its follow-ups Halloween Kills and Halloween Ends kept chatting, "shall we keep their biggest stars, but in flicks that act as direct sequels to the OG films and ignore all of the past sequels, and also work as reboots sparking a new trilogy?" could've been the latest reply. Thanks to the recent Halloween films, a natter like the above seems likely. Now that Green and McBride are also giving The Exorcist a spin, this kind of talk appears a certainty. So, writer/director Green was possessed with a new demonic screen story with McBride and Halloween Kills' Scott Teems, then penned a devil-made-me-do-it script with Camp X-Ray's Peter Sattler. The result is The Exorcist: Believer, a 50-years-later return to head-twisting dances with evil — this time with a prologue in Haiti rather than Iraq, the bulk of the action set in Georgia instead of Washington, DC's Georgetown, and two girls not one in need of faith's help to cast out malevolent fiends. Green and McBride's swap from Michael Myers to Pazuzu also already has its own trinity in the works, with first sequel The Exorcist: Deceiver due in 2025. As it apes the original movie's structure, there's a touch of trickery in starting The Exorcist: Believer in Port-au-Prince: the city's 2010 earthquake is used to get the plot in motion, a move that lands queasily, clunkily and exploitatively. Perhaps Green and company thought that slipping into a real-life tragedy's skin then wreaking havoc was a fitting piece of mirroring; instead, that choice should've been exorcised. Photographer Victor Fielding (Leslie Odom Jr, Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery) is holidaying with his heavily pregnant wife Sorenne (Tracey Graves, On Ten) when the earth rumbles, leading to him becoming a single father — but not before the baby is blessed in utero by a local healer. Cut to 13 years later, where teenager Angela (Lidya Jewett, Ivy + Bean) is introduced rifling through her mother's belongings, then convincing her grief-stricken dad to let her have an after-school date with her classmate Katherine (debutant Olivia O'Neill). She doesn't tell him that they'll be trying to contact Sorenne via a seance in the woods, though. Christianity reaches The Exorcist: Believer via Katherine, plus her devout parents Miranda (Jennifer Nettles, The Righteous Gemstones) and Tony (Norbert Leo Butz, Justified: City Primeval). Two bedevilled kids means more concerned adults, with the latter's nightmares beginning when Angela and Katherine don't return home from their forest frolic for three days. Once the girls re-emerge, they're withdrawn and erratic. The medical diagnosis is trauma; however, that doesn't explain the spooky happenings. Miranda and Tony contend that something unholy is afoot from the instant that the teens go missing, but Victor takes convincing. There's no lack of folks endeavouring to sway his thinking, as led by believing neighbour and nurse Ann (Ann Dowd, The Handmaid's Tale), who points him in the direction of someone who has been there, seen that and dealt with all the terrors of having a daughter taken over by Pazuzu: Chris MacNeil (Ellen Burstyn, Law & Order: Organised Crime). Shorter than its inspiration but feeling longer, The Exorcist: Believer largely operates in two modes post-preamble: slowly setting the scene, building up to the thrashing, voices and good-versus-evil battle that everyone knows is coming (the film is called The Exorcist, after all); and letting the expected play out. Both are overextended, which doesn't up what little suspense, scares or tension that the feature has — but does benefit the movie's actors and their performances. More time spent with Tony-winners Odom Jr (for Hamilton) and Butz (for Dirty Rotten Scoundrels and Catch Me If You Can) gives The Exorcist: Believer more emotional depth, as much needed. Jewett and O'Neill are visibly enjoying themselves in the picture's darkest turns. Oscar-winner Burstyn (for Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore) plays a smaller part, but her presence has weight to it. Alas, that's all that the film sadly wants of her, as it sets up one possible path, takes it away and then leans on easy nostalgia. As 2018's Halloween did with that saga's 40th anniversary, The Exorcist: Believer has timed its arrival carefully; 2023 marks half a century since William Friedkin adapted William Peter Blatty's bestselling novel that started it all. Green again considers the source material sacred, and it is: earning the now-late but always-great Friedkin his second Best Director Oscar nomination two years after he won for The French Connection, The Exorcist is a horror titan. It made history as the first-ever horror film nominated for Best Picture, too. Not just its own sequels (1977's Exorcist II: The Heretic and 1990's The Exorcist III) and prequels (2004's Exorcist: The Beginning and 2005's Dominion: Prequel to the Exorcist) took its lead, but everything about demonic hauntings since 1973. Still, while The Exorcist: Believer is certainly better than the unrelated The Pope's Exorcist, also from 2023, it's as dispiritingly by the numbers as it can be in attempting to emptily copy Friedkin, resurrect lines, get notes of the same score echoing and keep to the franchise playbook. When controversy surrounded the OG The Exorcist all those years back, the ideas and sights that helped cause it had meaning. A crisis of faith lingered throughout the film as heavy as dread, unease and alarm. When the Pazuzu-possessed Regan MacNeil (Linda Blair, Landfill) stabbed violently downwards with a crucifix, the movie's musing on religion's love of the patriarchy and the latter's struggle with girls when they reach puberty were searing. The list goes on, as Green knows but can't match. The Exorcist: Believer amasses a multi-faith group to do the exorcising this time, deploying inclusivity to comment on the changing role that worship plays in modern American life, yet only weakly says the obvious. The patriarchy is addressed again, overtly in monologues, but mostly The Exorcist: Believer plays like its big church-set moment: wandering in to make a big bloody scene while just splashing around some standard shocks.
UPDATE, October 18, 2020: Bombshell is available to stream via Amazon Prime Video, Foxtel Now, Google Play, YouTube and iTunes. Playing two women caught in the climate of sexual harassment that engulfed Fox News under former CEO Roger Ailes, Charlize Theron and Margot Robbie both turn in stellar — and now Oscar-nominated — performances in Bombshell. Aided by noticeable facial prosthetics, Theron steps into the shoes of real-life TV personality Megyn Kelly, serving up a pulsating vein of steeliness in every scene. As a fictional producer who calls herself an "influencer in the Jesus space" and an "evangelical millennial", Robbie's Kayla Pospisil possesses softer edges but still sports plenty of inner grit — especially when she summons up the guts to put her self-respect first, rather than her desire to feature on-camera on the right-wing network. But much like the unease that plagues both women until they decide to speak out, something definitely isn't right in the film that tells their tales. Bombshell is the slick, shiny version of this ripped-from-the-headlines story, which earned global attention when it broke back in 2016. Airbrushed to buffer away blemishes and avoid tricky spots, it's watered down to deliver an easy, glossy, simplified narrative. It doesn't help that 2019's Russell Crowe-starring The Loudest Voice already brought the same minutiae to the small screen — and in far greater detail, as you'd expect in a seven-part mini-series compared to a 109-minute movie. That said, Bombshell really isn't interested in diving as deep as its predecessor. Instead, it wants to make a feisty flick about kick-ass women fighting back in a male-dominated realm. Fight back, Kelly did — although not at first. As the film unpacks, fellow anchor Gretchen Carlson (Nicole Kidman) leads the charge and initially suffers the consequences, going public about her inappropriate dealings with Ailes (a cartoonish John Lithgow) by suing him personally. Despite the head honcho's protests of innocence to Rupert Murdoch (Malcolm McDowell) and sons Lachlan and James (Ben and Josh Lawson), more women share their stories. Director Jay Roach (Trumbo) and screenwriter Charles Randolph (The Big Short) explore this, as well as Kelly's apprehension to join the chorus and Pospisil's experiences as a young, ambitious woman eager to score her big on-screen break. And yet, by championing these efforts but barely delving into Fox News' status as a conservative propaganda machine, Bombshell proves an empty shell of a #MeToo movie. The treatment that Kelly and Carlson (and the real-life women that Pospisil represents) received at the hands of Ailes — yes, literally — is infuriating and unacceptable, as all accounts of men exerting power over women for their own gratification are. Their ordeal doesn't just hark back to one man, though; it's inescapably intertwined with Fox News and the agenda it serves — notions that are scarcely considered here. Roach and Randolph hint at the network's public standing, illustrating the wider world's reaction to its political leanings via a woman who insults Carlson in a supermarket. The film paints Ailes as feverish about pushing the Republican party's perspective and currying favour with Donald Trump during the lead up to the 2016 election, even when the future president tweets sexist comments about Kelly. And, it lays bare the TV station's misogynistic internal culture, where women are forced to wear short skirts and sit behind clear desks. Still, it all feels like lip service in a movie that merely depicts, rather than dissects. If one was feeling generous, you could assume the film's powers-that-be just expect that everyone already knows Fox News' reputation, and the perspectives it pedals. Being realistic, however, Bombshell seems happy to brush past the network's toxic on-air views — because contemplating them in-depth means adding shades of grey that this visually bright feature is keen to avoid. Ailes is a clearcut villain, and deserves the scorn he's served, of course. But ignoring the fact that Kelly, Carlson and their fellow female Fox News employees all buy into a conservative agenda where behaviour like Ailes' continually festers, and do so because they share the same political views, means that Bombshell ignores the broader context that helped lecherous acts prosper at the network. Yes, it's an immensely complicated situation — but Bombshell rarely treats it as such, or recognises much in the way of texture. While Kate McKinnon is memorable as a Hillary Clinton-supporting lesbian who remains closeted about both preferences at Fox News, that's another case of the movie barely dipping its toes into more complex territory. Perhaps the film's skin-deep approach shouldn't come as a surprise, seeing that Roach also directed all three Austin Powers flicks and the first two Meet the Parents movies. Bombshell certainly tries to keep its tone light and sometimes even farcical, even though it deals with such heavy matters. Alas, what results is the kind of movie you'd expect given this tellingly glib piece of closing voice-over — one where its unambiguously heroic protagonists "got the Murdochs to put the rights of women above profits, however temporarily". https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jjOdDd4NEeg
Wet, wild, soggy, sodden, stormy, soaking: think of a term for drenching weather — any term you like — and, yes, it it'll apply to Brisbane over the last few days. Over the past weekend, the city received a relentless deluge, including falls of over 200 millimetres per day in Brisbane City alone. And, as a result, much of Brissie has been flooded. Eleven years after the 2011 floods, Brisbane has been battling waterlogged conditions all across the city again — spanning everywhere from Moggill to Jindalee, Rosalie to South Bank, and the CBD to Bulimba, just to name a few suburbs. The list still goes on, and Queensland Fire and Emergency Services' last emergency alert issued today, Tuesday, March 1, spans a lengthy number of suburbs. Thankfully, the rain has eased for the moment, allowing the focus to move onto cleanup efforts — including asking Brisbanites to help. So, Brisbane City Council has put a call out for volunteers to sign up to the Mud Army 2.0, after the first iteration made such an important impact back in 2011. The council is partnering with Volunteering Queensland — and, if you're eager and able to assist, you'll be helping to clean up homes and businesses affected by the current flood conditions. Need assistance yourself? Given how widespread the flooding has been again, plenty of Brisbanites are in that situation. You can also register with the council to receive help once the community cleanup effort starts. We're preparing the Mud Army 2.0 to help clean up our city. Been impacted by flooding or can lend a helping hand? Find out more: https://t.co/uFiUvdZ6bu #bnefloods #mudarmy pic.twitter.com/IZtL6X0HaH — Brisbane City (@brisbanecityqld) March 1, 2022 Floodwaters remain around the city, with flood warnings still in place and peaks expected to keep hitting at high tide into Wednesday. That means that the cleanup can't even start yet in some areas, but help will definitely be needed once the water level subsides. As well as registering to help, or for assistance, here's where you can keep an eye on all of the latest Brisbane weather conditions, warnings and alerts, and traffic and public transport status: The Bureau of Meteorology's Queensland warnings page, and its Queensland Twitter and Facebook Brisbane City Council's February 2022 severe weather event updates, which also features a Brisbane River flood forecast Brisbane City Council's Twitter and Facebook Queensland Fire and Emergency Services' website, Twitter and Facebook Qld Traffic Translink's website, Twitter and Facebook To register for the Mud Army 2.0, or for help to clean up your house or business, head to the Brisbane City Council website. Top image: Matthew Toomey.
UPDATE, November 13, 2020: Bohemian Rhapsody is available to stream via Amazon Prime Video, Google Play, YouTube Movies and iTunes. To see Freddie Mercury take to the stage is to see a giant, one who leaps, slinks, prowls, thrusts and struts above the masses. Mercury wasn't a tall man, but he couldn't have had a bigger presence when he was performing. It's evident in every clip of Queen's gigs, and each of the British band's music videos too, but it's never more apparent than in the group's Live Aid show. For 20 minutes at Wembley Stadium on July 13, 1985, in a set played to 72,000 London concert-goers and beamed via television to a global audience of 1.9 billion, Mercury was the towering champion of the world. Unsurprisingly, Queen's Live Aid performance forms a crucial part of Bohemian Rhapsody. Mercury's walk to the stage gives the film its opening moments, via glimpses of his moustache, sunglasses, crotch and singlet-adorned back, while the actual set itself provides the movie's climax. Filmed on the first day of the picture's production, it's an electrifying sequence made all the more so by Rami Malek's spot-on performance as Mercury. But the fact that the blistering show was a greatest hits set really couldn't be more appropriate for the film endeavouring to recreate its glory. The Live Aid gig featured 'Bohemian Rhapsody', naturally, as well as 'Radio Ga Ga', 'We Will Rock You', 'We Are the Champions' and more, and it gave everyone watching exactly what they'd hoped for. Bohemian Rhapsody is a greatest hits movie. It's the neat, easily digestible version of Queen's career, and of Mercury's professional and personal ups and downs along with them. It's also highly sanitised, and even factually altered where it's more dramatically convenient. Here, the Zanzibar-born Parsi man originally known as Farrokh Bulsara chats to Brian May (Gwilym Lee) and Roger Taylor (Ben Hardy) at a pub gig on the night their lead singer quits, talks them into giving him a shot as their new vocalist, and unleashes his now-iconic four-octave range to change music history. Chart success, tours, fame and raucous parties all follow, even after the band's first record label exec insists that the six-minute 'Bohemian Rhapsody' will never be played on radio. Meanwhile, when he's not brandishing his flamboyant stage persona, Freddie struggles with the expectations of his stern father (Ace Bhatti), his complicated feelings for his girlfriend Mary Austin (Lucy Boynton), his sexuality, plenty of drugs and his eventual diagnosis with HIV. Like the best-of releases that fill record stores and try to condense a musician or band's finest work to a single disc, a greatest hits film is never going to cut as deep as a proper album. That doesn't instantly make Bohemian Rhapsody a bad movie, or make best-of records bad records either. You know what you're getting when you listen to a greatest hits album, and it's exactly what's on offer with this formulaic biopic — but it's still largely enjoyable. This isn't exactly real life, and in many parts, it's purely fantasy. And yet, it's an engaging, albeit highly superficial interpretation of Queen and Mercury's heyday as painted with the broadest of strokes and featuring all of the expected tracks. As with many rock biopics before it, Bohemian Rhapsody is all about the gloss, sheen and popular hits that reinforce the existing image of Queen and Mercury, rather than daring to delve beneath the surface. Covering a 15-year time span, this is the band-approved version of the story, not the reportedly darker affair that was originally set to star Sacha Baron Cohen. Still, Bohemian Rhapsody energetically takes to its chosen task. Director Bryan Singer — as well as the uncredited Dexter Fletcher, who took over when Singer was fired two-thirds of the way through shooting — bounces through a template that strings simplistic drama between songs, often using the former to give weight to the latter. The filmmakers also capitalise on a fact that has made the Mamma Mia flicks such a huge success with fans: a killer soundtrack can do plenty of heavy lifting. Great songs don't make for a great movie by themselves, and Bohemian Rhapsody never reaches greatness, or even approaches it. It's entertaining as it hits its intended marks, although it remains noticeable (and even insulting to Mercury's legacy as a queer icon) that the picture skims over certain details. But, regardless of its handling of reality, the film delivers a supersonic turn by Malek. Far, far away from the reserved tension of Mr Robot, he walks, talks, belts out a tune, wears the tightest of pants and juts out his noticeable teeth just like the charismatic Mercury. Malek also gives texture to the movie's slight dives into deeper territory that isn't necessarily in the script — in particular, when Mercury grapples with the loneliness behind his life of excess, fights to retain his connection with Austin and learns of his illness. Both splashed loudly across big and small stages, and giving soulful, lonely stares in quiet moments, it's a performance that's a kind of magic. He will rock you, even if Bohemian Rhapsody itself favours making a big noise over taking on the world. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=27zlBpzdOZg
Defiant, powerful and passionate at every turn, Muru depicts a relentless police raid on New Zealand's Rūātoki community. Equally alive with anger, the Aotearoan action-thriller and drama shows law enforcement storming into the district to apprehend what's incorrectly deemed a terrorist cell, but is actually activist and artist Tāme Iti — playing himself — and his fellow Tūhoe people. If October 2007 springs to mind while watching, it's meant to. Written and directed by Poi E: The Story of Our Song and Mt Zion filmmaker Tearepa Kahi, this isn't a mere dramatisation of well-known events, however. There's a reason that Muru begins by stamping its purpose on the screen, and its whole rationale for existing: "this film is not a recreation… it is a response". That the feature's name is also taken from a Māori process of redressing transgressions is both telling and fitting as well. Kahi's film is indeed a reaction, a reply, a counter — and a way of processing past wrongs. In a fashion, it's Sir Isaac Newton's third law of motion turned into cinema, because a spate of instances across New Zealand over a century-plus has sparked this on-screen answer. Muru's script draws from 15 years back; also from the police shooting of Steven Wallace in Waitara in 2000 before that; and from the arrest of Rua Kēnana in Maungapōhatu even further ago, in 1916. While the movie finds inspiration in the screenplay Toa by Jason Nathan beyond those real-life events, it's always in dialogue with things that truly happened, and not just once, and not only recently. If every action causes an opposite reaction, Muru is Kahi's way of sifting through, rallying against and fighting back after too many occasions where the long arm of the NZ law, and of colonialism, has overreached. Played by Cliff Curtis (Reminiscence) with the brand of command that he's long been known for — and with the unshakeable presence that's served him through everything from The Piano, Once Were Warriors and Whale Rider through to The Dark Horse, Fear the Walking Dead and Doctor Sleep — Police Sergeant 'Taffy' Tawhara sits at the heart of Rūātoki's us-and-them divide. A local cop, he has the nation's laws to uphold, but he's also beholden to the community he hails from. His homecoming is recent, with his father (Tipene Ohlson) ailing and undergoing dialysis. So far, it has also been quiet. On the day that Muru begins, Taffy drives the school bus, takes the Aunties for medical checkups at the local mobile clinic and does what everyone in the valley does in their own manners: watches out for and tries to support 16-year-old Rusty (Poroaki Merritt-McDonald, Savage), the nephew of fellow officer Blake (Ria Te Uira Paki, The Dead Lands), who has the role of Rūātoki's resident wayward teen down pat. When Rusty smashes up shop windows that night, Taffy takes the call, then makes Iti's Camp Rama his second stop. A gathering of locals that champions survival skills and Tūhoe culture, it's designed to foster and reinforce the area's identity, which Taffy thinks Rusty can benefit from — even if that evening marks the sergeant's first attendance himself. But Camp Rama has also been under surveillance by the NZ police's special tactics group, with haughty leader Gallagher (Jay Ryan, The Furnace) and his quick-tempered second-in-command Kimiora (Manu Bennett, The Hobbit) deciding that Iti and his friends are a threat to national security. The highly armed tactical unit descends upon the community the next day, aided behind the scenes by colleagues Maria (Simone Kessell, Obi-Wan Kenobi) and Jarrod (Byron Coll, Nude Tuesday), overseen by an MP (Colin Moy, Guns Akimbo) determined to make a statement, and ignoring Taffy's pleas that their mission is mistaken. From the outset, Kahi flits between the two halves of Muru's narrative, letting their clash echo from the feature's frames. Daily life in the valley isn't idyllic, but everyone's wellbeing is a communal responsibility, as seen in the way that Blake pitches in to help with pāpā while Taffy is out driving, as well as the fondness shown for Rusty by school kids and elders alike. Among law enforcement, displaying force and strength rather than flexibility or care is the only focus — to explosive ends once the raid starts. His film isn't subtle, but Kahi proves both unflinching and perceptive in contrasting empathy with its utter absence. A case in point: the evocatively shot (by cinematographers Chris Mauger, Herb — Songs of Freedom, and Fred Renata, Dawn Raid) and tensely edited (by Hacksaw Ridge Oscar-winner John Gilbert) moments when the cops surround the school bus, tracking Rusty on his horse. The children see ninjas, the adults see life changing forever and the police simply see targets. If Muru didn't come layered with real-life context and a wealth of history, it'd still make for taut, intense and gripping viewing; as an action-thriller, it's sharp, tightly wound and skilfully executed, and teems with lively chases — by foot, car, horse and air alike — as well as loaded confrontations. Undercutting IRL trauma by boiling it down to a Hollywood formula isn't Kahi's intention, though, or the end result that pulsates across the screen. Muru is all the more riveting because it's so deeply felt, so steeped in generations of shattering violence, and so willing to ponder what compassion and justice truly mean. It also bubbles with the sensation that the movie wouldn't even need to exist in a better world, because the events that it's interrogating wouldn't have happened. This is a reckoning on several levels, including with that truth. As set against Rūātoki's scenic greenery, Muru is always a complicated picture, clearly — and that includes its choice to work in fiction instead of remaining glued to facts. Sometimes, though, spinning a story rather than sticking to actuality can be more potent, more emotionally authentic, and also brim with more feeling, as it instantly does here. Of course, there's no avoiding Iti, the feature's constant reminder that reality underscores even Muru's most imaginative narrative leaps. As himself, he's one part of a fine-tuned cast — weighty performances by Curtis, Merritt-McDonald, Ryan and Kessell stand out — but he's also Muru's beacon. Fury, understanding, hope, honouring the past, striving for a different future: in this dynamic film and in Iti's eyes, they all both ripple and linger.
UPDATE, March 13, 2023: Navalny is available to stream via Docplay, YouTube Movies, iTunes and Prime Video. Man on Wire did it with The Walk, The Times of Harvey Milk sparked Milk and Dogtown and Z-Boys brought about Lords of Dogtown. Werner Herzog went from Little Dieter Needs to Fly to Rescue Dawn, too, and the Paradise Lost films were followed by Devil's Knot. One day, Navalny will join this growing list. Documentaries inspiring dramas isn't new, and Alexei Navalny's life story would scream for a biopic even if director Daniel Roher (Once Were Brothers) hadn't gotten there first — and so compellingly, or in such an acclaimed way, winning the 2022 Sundance Film Festival's Audience Award for its US doco competition in the process. When you're a Russian opposition leader crusading against corruption and Vladimir Putin, there's going to be a tale to tell. Usually only Hollywood screenwriters can conjure up a narrative like the one that Navalny has been living, though, typically in a Bourne-style spy thriller. Actually, John le Carré, Ian Fleming or Tom Clancy might've come up with something similar; still, even the former, the author responsible for such espionage efforts such as Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and The Night Manager, could've struggled to imagine details this staggering. Creating a fictional character as complicated, captivating and candid as Navalny's namesake would've also been a stretch. Indeed, there are two key aspects to this engrossing doco: everything that it explores about its subject's life, especially in recent years, which is a dream for a documentary filmmaker; and the engaging pro-democracy advocate himself. Often Navalny chats to camera about his experiences, demanding and earning the viewer's attention. In a movie that doesn't overlook his flaws, either, he's equally riveting when he's searching for a crucial truth. Another stark fact haunts Navalny from the outset: it was never guaranteed that he'd be alive to see the film come to fruition, let alone reach an audience. The outspoken Putin critic, lawyer and dissident confronts that grim reality early on, giving Roher the holy grail of soundbites. "Let's make a thriller out of this movie,' he says. "And if I'm killed, let's make a boring movie about memory," he continues. In August 2020, Navalny nearly didn't make it, after all. In an incident that understandably attracted international headlines and just as expectedly sits at the core of this documentary, he was poisoned while flying from Tomsk in Siberia to Moscow. The toxin: a Novichok nerve agent. The instantly suspected culprits: the Kremlin, as part of an assassination plot that he survived. No matter whether you're aware of the minutiae from press coverage when it happened — or of his treatment by Russia prior or since, in a country that hasn't taken kindly to his campaign against its president — or you're stepping through his tale for the first time while watching, Navalny couldn't be more gripping as it gets sleuthing as well. Among other things, it's an attempted-murder mystery. That fateful flight was diverted to Omsk because Navalny was so violently and deathly ill due to the Soviet-era toxin. His stint in hospital was tense, and evacuating him to safety in Berlin was never guaranteed. Although the poisoning is just one aspect of his story, and of this astonishing and anger-inciting film, identifying the people responsible is firmly one of Navalny's quests and Navalny's focuses. With extraordinarily intimate access, befitting his central figure's frankness and determination, Roher shot the aftermath of the incident as it unfolded; one moment in particular must be seen to be believed. Navalny takes up help from Christo Grozev, an investigative journalist from Netherlands-based group Bellingcat (or "a nice Bulgarian nerd with a laptop" as he's called here). As the evidence mounts, they start contacting the men they've worked out were involved. Most calls end promptly. Then, when Navalny impersonates a Kremlin higher-up, phoning to get answers as to why the plot went wrong, answers spill (answers that involve Navalny's underwear, in fact). With apologies to the most skilled screenwriters and authors that've plied their trade in spy narratives, this is an exchange so wild that it can only be true, as Navalny's audience witnesses while perched on the edge of their seats. This is a compulsive, revelatory, fast-paced movie, as directed with agility by Roher. There's as much of a pulse to its early summary of Navalny's career, including what led him to become such a target, as there is to his to-camera discussions and the unravelling of the Novichok ordeal. News footage and imagery shot on mobile phones help fill in the gaps with the latter, but the as-it-happens calls — and the digging before it — are so suspenseful and so deftly shot by cinematographer Niki Waltl (In the Bunker) and spliced by editors Maya Hawke (Janis: Little Girl Blue) and Langdon Page (Mapplethorpe: Look at the Pictures) that it's hard to see how any dramatisation could top it. Composers Marius de Vries (CODA) and Matt Robertson (a music programmer on Cats) add a nerve-shredding score, too, as part of the doco's polish. Navalny doesn't need it, as seeing its subject's flight back to Russia in January 2021 after recuperating to Germany — a flight back to charges and imprisonment — also makes plain, but the whole package is expertly assembled. There's still more in the absorbing documentary's sights, such as Navalny's relationships with his ever-supportive wife Yulia and children Dasha and Zakhar; his social-media following and the well-oiled flair for getting his message out there, including via TikTok; the charisma that's helped him strike such a wide-ranging chord; and his fondness of playing Call of Duty. Navalny is a frightening portrait of Russia, an account of battling its oppressive status quo and a layered character study alike — and, smartly and astutely, that means looking at the man in its moniker's past approach to consolidating opposition to Putin as well. Navalny has previously thrown in with far-right groups to amass a cohort against the Russia leader, a move that warrants and gets a thorough line of questioning, resulting in frustration on his part. As it lays bare what it involves to confront authoritarian power, demand freedom and fight against the state while putting your life on the line — be it in inspiring or dubious-at-best ways — this film has to be unflinching: it couldn't be as complex as it is otherwise.
David Attenborough's nature documentaries are acclaimed and beloved viewing, including when they're recreating dinosaurs. Family-friendly fare adores cute critters, especially if they're talking as in The Lion King and Paddington movies. The horror genre also loves pushing animals to the front, with The Birds and Jaws among its unsettling masterpieces. Earth's creatures great and small are all around us on-screen, and also off — but in EO, a donkey drama by Polish filmmaker Jerzy Skolimowski (11 Minutes), humanity barely cares. The people in this Oscar-nominated mule musing might watch movies about pets and beasts. They may have actively shared parts of their own lives existence the animal kingdom; some, albeit only a rare few, do attempt exactly that with this flick's grey-haired, white-spotted, wide-eyed namesake. But one of the tragedies at the heart of this astonishing adventure is also just a plain fact of life on this pale blue dot while homo sapiens reign supreme: that animals are everywhere all the time but hardly anyone notices. EO notices. Making his first film in seven years, and co-writing with his wife and producer Ewa Piaskowska (Essential Killing), Skolimowski demands that his audience pays attention. This is both an episodic slice-of-life portrait of EO the donkey's days and a glimpse of the world from his perspective — sometimes, the glowing and gorgeous cinematography by Michal Dymek (Wolf) takes in the Sardinian creature in all his braying, trotting, carrot-eating glory; sometimes, it takes on 'donkey vision', which is just as mesmerising to look at. Skolimowski gets inspiration from Robert Bresson's 1966 feature Au Hasard Balthazar, too, a movie that also follows the life of a hoofed, long-eared mammal. Like that French great, EO sees hardship much too often for its titular creature; however, even at its most heartbreaking, it also spies an innate, immutable circle of life. It's amid strobing red lights that EO makes his debut, and in the embrace and safekeeping of the doting Kasandra (Sandra Drzymalska, Mental) at a travelling Polish circus. They perform, but they're also the best of friends beyond the big top, a bond that she doesn't ever want to end. Alas, swiftly after EO starts, protests engulf the donkey's home, with animal-rights campaigners striking and the troupe's management going bankrupt. Sold off with the other critters, the mule will meet his gentle and kind human pal again, but the movie's tale from here has almost as many strands as EO's own tail — including as he traverses the Polish and Italian countryside, complete with stints at a horse stable, a farm, wandering free, avoiding hunters, maybe bringing good luck to a local football team, definitely enraging their opposition, being accompanied by a young priest and more. After EO's liberation, the change of scenery doesn't initially seem too troubling or taxing. His next abode gets a fancy opening ceremony with dignitaries cutting ribbons, and gifts him a bountiful carrot necklace — the literal kind. But when he's startled by horses and knocks over a display stacked with trophies, he's moved on. There, he's offered just one chunky vegetable and appears despondent. Next comes a reunion, an opportune escape, the forest by night, feuding soccer clubs and awful violence, plus an animal hospital, a fur factory, the meat trade, a lonely truck driver (Mateusz Kosciukiewicz, Magnesium), that man of the cloth (Lorenzo Zurzolo, Under the Amalfi Sun) and a countess (Isabelle Huppert, Mrs Harris Goes to Paris) in a red dress in an Italian mansion. EO is also seen by spiders, frogs, owls, foxes and a Black Mirror-style robot dog. He canters across landscape sometimes left in its natural state, and sometimes blighted by humanity's footprint. And, while moseying through a town, he stops to neigh at fish in an aquarium. As with everything in EO's frames, that moment of communion between mule and goldfish is visually and emotionally striking. It also says oh-so much about Skolimowski's determination to let his eponymous critter just be an animal — more than that, about his success at achieving that feat, and also why. Viewers can read into EO's staring towards the glassed-in fish, and his braying, as an exchange between different types of creatures controlled by humans. The audience can also take it as a comment on the cages that people place around the animal kingdom, and how rare it is for them to be free of such influence. Or, it can be observed as simply a donkey reacting randomly because that's what a donkey, and all life, often does. The broader movie itself operates in the same fashion. It serves up ebbs and flows where one thing happens, then another, then more still, while so clearly and movingly knowing that that's just how being alive goes, and also always witnessing how EO's story takes the path it does because of humanity's dominance over the natural world. EO might boast the incomparable Huppert among its cast, but its stars to whinny about are Tako, Hola, Marietta, Ettore, Rocco and Mela. Skolimowski thanked them each by name when the movie shared the 2022 Cannes Film Festival's Jury Prize — coming in only behind Palme d'Or-winner Triangle of Sadness, then Grand Prix-recipients Close and Stars at Noon — and the care and notice that the veteran Le Départ, Deep End and The Shout filmmaker gave on the Croisette to the six donkeys who play EO is mirrored on-screen. This wouldn't and couldn't be so emotive, immersive and absorbing a film as it is if it didn't truly bask in its mules' presence with pure affection. For the feature's 87 minutes, this is their world, and EO's. For that running time, viewers see EO's donkey protagonist as animals are so scarcely seen: as everything, no matter the good and bad turns that come their way, and the life-and-death course they chart as we all do; as heroes in their own story, too. As a piece of contemplation about the relationship between humans and life around us, EO also brings documentary Gunda to mind. It's just as revelatory and wrenching as that dialogue-free, black-and-white farmyard doco — but, as set to an ever-changing, sometimes-pulsating score by Paweł Mykietyn (a veteran of Skolimowski's 11 Minutes and Essential Killing), it firmly makes the most of its sounds and colours. Everything clashes and crashes around EO, hues, textures, noises, tunes, camera angles and vantage points among them. In one especially stunning scene with an entrancing beat, the donkey scampers through and observes the woodland, green lasers from gunsights beaming bright in the dark of night against the leafiness and its inhabitants. The effect is otherworldly, as is the entirety of this haunting and touching film as it peers at life so often ignored, undervalued and exploited on this very earth.
When Brisbane's Howard Smith Wharves initially unveiled its first tenants back in 2017, four restaurants were revealed: a Greek taverna, an octagonal overwater bar, a Japanese joint and a Chinese eatery. One by one, the precinct is delivering on those promises, with Greca and Mr Percival's both already up and running, and the as-yet-unnamed Tokyo-style hangout due to open in October. That leaves Hong Kong-inspired Cantonese venue Stanley, which has announced that it'll launch in September or October — with a few changes from its original concept. The overall idea remains the same; however, instead of being the latest venue from restaurateur Andrew Baturo (Walter's Steakhouse, Libertine, Popolo, Heya and The Gresham), the space — and lease — is now in the hands of private investors. Despite the swap behind the scenes, Stanley is designed to impress, a revamp of the two-storey, heritage-listed, 1930s-era former water police building in the riverside precinct. When it opens, it'll feature three bars, cater for 200 guests and include seating on a deck by the river. Plus, menu-wise, it'll serve up a range of authentic Cantonese dishes — such as peking duck and dim sum — as well as lots of fresh, local seafood. [caption id="attachment_720547" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Hervé Dudognon.[/caption] Leading the charge on the ground will be General Manager Hervé Dudognon, who comes to Stanley with a heap of experience. In Sydney, he worked at Merivale's Mr Wong and Coogee Pavilion, with his resume also extending to a stint as head sommelier at Palazzo Versace on the Gold Coast, and second in charge of the sommelier team at Paris' The Hotel de Crillon. Fittingly, he was also the restaurant manager of Pierre Gagnaire's restaurant at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in Hong Kong. Find Stanley at Howard Smith Wharves, 5 Boundary Street, Brisbane from September/October. We'll keep you posted with more details as they come to hand. Top image: Howard Smith Wharves.
There's an air of inevitability about Escape Room. A strong feeling of familiarity, too. Hollywood was always going to turn the popular pastime into a scary movie — a matter of when, not if — but this first major attempt just rebadges a horror film staple. Long before people were paying to sleuth their way out of a locked space, audiences have been watching the same concept on the big screen. It's there in countless haunted house flicks, in 1997's stylish and twisty thriller Cube, and in the gore of the Saw franchise as well. All that Escape Room adds to the mix is an obvious moniker, and a clear desire to start a new Final Destination-style series. The setup is as straightforward as expected, with six strangers receiving mysterious invitations to visit a new Chicago space. If they can find their way out of the high-tech escape room, which no one has been able to manage so far, they'll win $10,000 for their troubles. But as shy college student Zoey (Taylor Russell), supermarket slacker Ben (Logan Miller) and finance whiz Jason (Jay Elis) wait to enter the puzzle alongside dedicated gamer Danny (Nik Dodani), the high-strung Amanda (Deborah Ann Woll) and the older Mike (Tyler Labine), it becomes apparent that this isn't any old immersive experience. From the moment that the lobby starts getting warmer than it should be, these competitors aren't just angling for a cash prize — they're endeavouring to stay alive. Thanks to an unrelated, barely seen 2017 film that's also called Escape Room, plus a 2018 TV movie called No Escape Room, director Adam Robitel (Insidious: The Last Key) and screenwriters Bragi Schut (Season of the Witch) and Maria Melnik (TV's Counterpart) aren't treading new filmic ground in any sense. Rather, they're merely jumping into territory that's recognisable in several ways, just with a bigger budget and audience reach. Still, while there's much that remains well-worn about 2019's Escape Room, Robitel and company don't always stick to painting by the numbers. Although their picture won't wow viewers with its twists, or surprise many with its tricks and riddles, it does succeed in the most crucial area: making its escape room sequences stand out. There's more than one literally killer space to flee here, and each proves inventive and clever — whether stranding Zoey, Ben and the gang in an upside-down pool bar, or thrusting them into a place that resembles a hellish acid trip. Indeed, watching the group navigate each complicated chamber never fails to entertain and impress, with full credit due to the movie's production designers. It's a strange sensation, to view characters fighting for their lives as their surroundings attempt to assassinate them, and to completely understand the appeal of the escape room craze. This isn't an ad for the real thing or an accurate representation of it, obviously, however by making its spaces so intriguing and engaging, the film aptly conveys why they've become so popular. Alas, at almost every other turn, Escape Room is a rare picture that could've benefited from fewer details, not more. When you're filling your film with stereotypical characters, giving them standard personality traits and cliched traumatic backstories doesn't add depth — it just highlights how paper-thin everyone is. Similarly, while witnessing the sextet's battle for survival is suitably unsettling and suspenseful, attempting to explain why they're stuck in this predicament feels overly contrived, even for such a high-concept premise. It also feels utterly unnecessary, and smacks of attempting to set up a sequel. When Escape Room lures audiences into its murderous maze, more of the same may sound like a treat. But when the movie is happily ticking boxes, it serves up a firm reminder that many horror flicks can barely sustain their own running time, let alone a franchise. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6dSKUoV0SNI
Going into Scream VI, viewers know who the killer definitely isn't: the horror franchise's OG final girl Sidney Prescott. Neve Campbell's (The Lincoln Lawyer) character has been a pivotal part of every Ghostface-stalked flick from 1996's initial Scream through to 2022's fifth entry Scream, but famously isn't in the stab-happy saga's latest chapter due to a pay dispute. That's one big change for returning filmmakers Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett to grapple with in their second slice of the blood-splattering, scary movie-loving action. À la Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan — which gets an early nod, naturally — they also move said action to New York. But even if you take Ghostface and the murderer's targets out of Woodsboro, and shake up who the masked maniac swings a knife at, Scream is going to Scream in a screamingly familiar fashion. It has before in Ohio in Scream 2 and Hollywood in Scream 3, and the series knows it. New movie, new city, same setup, same gravelly Roger L Jackson voice, same 'Red Right Hand' needle drop, same overall formula: throw in the same winking, nodding, self-referential attitude, plus the same penchant for mentioning horror movies, their tropes and cliches, and general film theory, and that's Scream VI's easy cut. Once again, someone dons Ghostface's ghost face, of course, and uses whichever blade happens to be in the vicinity (and a shotgun) to terrorise teens and long-victimised targets. Murder Mystery's James Vanderbilt and Ready or Not's Guy Busick haven't taxed themselves with the screenplay — their second Scream effort, after the previous flick — but the franchise's pattern keeps making a comeback for a reason. While intrepid reporter Gale Weathers (Courteney Cox, Shining Vale) notes the world's current "true-crime limited series" obsession, whodunnits and murder-mysteries date back further, and that's where every Scream instalment has also carved a niche since the late, great Wes Craven and Dawson's Creek creator Kevin Williamson started things off. With Sidney happily explained away, Sam Carpenter (Melissa Barrera, In the Heights) is Ghostface's present obsession. She was last time, too, which didn't end well for some of her friends and acquaintances. A year later, she's in the Big Apple because that's where younger sister Tara (Jenna Ortega, Wednesday) goes to college, and Sam isn't keen to let her out of her sight. Horror movie fanatic Mindy Meeks-Martin (Jasmin Savoy Brown, Yellowjackets) and her twin Chad (Mason Gooding, Love, Victor) are also new-ish ex-Woodsboro kids on campus. And, when bodies start piling up, starting with the saga's obligatory and engagingly effective cold open — with Samara Weaving (Babylon) reuniting with her Ready or Not directors to follow in Drew Barrymore (Santa Clarita Diet), Jada Pinkett Smith (The Matrix Resurrections) and the like's footsteps — Scream VI's core four have another date with a psychopath. Sam, Tara, Mindy and Chad also have fresh-faced NYC company, adding to the suspect pool. Sam and Tara are bunking with sex-positive roommate Quinn Bailey (Liana Liberato, A Million Little Things), who has a police detective (Dermot Mulroney, Umma) for an overprotective father. Chad does the same with the studious Ethan Landry (Jack Champion, Avatar: The Way of Water), while Mindy is dating Anika Kayoko (Devyn Nekoda, Sneakerella). Plus, Sam is enjoying a secret fling with neighbour Danny Brackett (Josh Segarra, She-Hulk: Attorney at Law). Because they're all well and truly in a franchise — when Mindy gives her obligatory lecture about what movie conventions dictate should happen next, she expands beyond just horror films to ever-sprawling sagas — Gale hightails it to campus when murders start occurring, and Scream 4's Kirby Reed (Hayden Panettiere, Nashville) also finds reason to drop by. Sadly, when Mindy does get a-babbling about "the rules", she mentions a word that no one who saw 2022's Scream should ever want to hear again: requel. At least that term for do-overs that stick with an established timeline, bring back legacy characters, but pump in new blood to also give the original a remake doesn't then get splashed around as frenetically as Ghostface splashes gore in this followup. Scream VI doesn't get to insufferable levels of geeking out, either — that its predecessor did even for the most adoring horror-movie fans, aka the series' main audience, was an unwanted feat but a feat nonetheless — instead satirising itself by literally asking "who gives a fuck about movies?". Still, Mindy's whole speech, surveying her pals, assessing who is likely to kill or be killed, and waxing irreverent about scary film and franchise lore, shows how beholden Scream VI is to the saga's standard formula. Accordingly, don't believe Mindy when she says this isn't a requel sequel: it is. Also don't believe her when she states that old rules no longer apply: they patently do. Don't believe Mindy when she starts talking about subverting expectations as well, claiming that franchises will only keep on keeping on if they do just that. The horror genre gushes with ongoing series — some namechecked in Scream VI — that've proven the exact opposite because viewers showed up anyway, and little in this Scream entry upends the saga's basics. In fact, the big reveal is dispiritingly by-the-numbers, lacking the smart and savage commentary that helped improve the last Scream's choice of culprit in the process. Noting the wearing nature of living with trauma is a meaningful touch, but never deeply explored. The shoutout to franchise fatigue is also far more superficial than any Ghostface-caused gash. Plus, though focusing on Sam's inner turmoil has the potential to get the inevitable seventh flick to truly try something different, the callback that comes with the storyline is already clunky and played out. Scream VI is still fun enough as a slasher-comedy-slash-whodunnit; staging that slashing, plus the suspense and sleuthing around it, remains Bettinelli-Olpin and Gillett's best Scream-relevant skill. That was never in doubt after Ready or Not, and their aforementioned cold open here is entertaining, playful and expertly executed. The New York setting sparks stabbings in alleyways, subways and bodegas, all impressively and tensely shot — although Montreal makes a particularly unconvincing Big Apple. And if you're going to stick with business as usual no matter what the sassy dialogue promises, Barrera, Savoy Brown, stalwart Cox, eagerly anticipated returnee Panettiere, and especially growing scream queen (see also: X and Studio 666) Ortega and always-welcome The Other Two star Segarra, are killer company.
Androids may dream of electric sheep, or they may not, but that isn't the only metaphysical question that cinema likes to contemplate. Do souls yearn and strive for — and fret and stress over — their chance to shuffle onto this mortal coil? That's the query that Pixar's Soul pondered so thoughtfully and enchantingly, and it's one that Nine Days, which actually predates its animated counterpart but is only reaching Australian cinemas now, masterfully explores as well. "You are being considered for the amazing opportunity of life," a bespectacled, suspender-wearing, serious-faced Will (Winston Duke, Us) tells the candidates hoping to soon live and breathe. They're far more enthusiastic about the process than he is, although he values their prospective existence much more than they can fathom in their wide-eyed eagerness and excitement. Will has seen what can happen next, because it's his job not only to select the best souls to embark upon this thing called life, but to monitor their progress in all the days, months and years afterwards. He's observed the success stories; however, he's also witnessed the heartbreaks as well. In this stirring and fittingly soulful debut feature from writer/director Edson Oda — a movie that won the dramatic screenwriting award at the 2020 Sundance Film Festival — Will surveys his next troupe of contenders fresh from viewing the unhappy end that met one of his previous favourites. He's already adrift from existence as we know it, and from almost everyone else who resides in the picture's ethereal yet also earthy pre-life realm, but he's now burdened with a renewed sense of solemnity. His colleague Kyo (Benedict Wong, The Personal History of David Copperfield) tries to get him to see the lighter side — the more human side — of the path his next chosen candidate will take. He emphasises the ebbs and flows that Will, who has become more rigid in his thinking and feelings the longer he's in the role, now fervently discounts. But among a roster of new applicants that includes Kane (Bill Skarsgård, IT Chapter Two), Alex (Tony Hale, Veep), Mike (David Rysdahl, Dead Pigs) and Maria (Arianna Ortiz, Rattlesnake), all of which are given nine days to demonstrate why they should be born next, it's actually the calm, passionate and inquisitive Emma (Zazie Beetz, Atlanta) that challenges the way Will perceives his work and what it means to be alive. Nine Days could've been reductive and generic. Perhaps, statistically, it should've turned out that way. Tales of men who learn what's important in their limited period of consciousness via their interactions with spirited women are far too common — and not just on the big screen, but everywhere that tales are told. Many of Nine Days' other elements echo from other films and stories, too, strongly recalling Hirokazu Kore-eda's 1998 film After Life, bringing The Truman Show to mind in Will's voyeurism, clearly sharing thematic threads with Blade Runner and its sequel, and also skirting around similar terrain as Wim Wenders' haunting Wings of Desire. But, thankfully, Oda isn't bogged down by his influences. Just as his protagonist has clear notions of what life should be, at least when Nine Days begins, the first-time filmmaker has a distinct vision for this beautiful and rousing movie. Unlike Will, Oda doesn't waver, reassess or have his ideas probed, however. Instead, he crafts a film that's certain in its message about valuing and seizing life, and just as assured and confident about conveying that concept quietly, patiently, affectingly and with grounded sincerity — and about earning every step in its emotional journey, rather than relying on platitudes. With nuance and layers, that's how Nine Days can celebrate the simple act of appreciating the small things, and yet never comes across as if it's preaching a statement that's stitched onto a throw pillow. It's how Emma can introduce Will to a new perspective, and one he definitely needs, but never play like yet another manic pixie dream girl. It's also how the feature can wade into recognisable territory but avoid falling victim to all of the obvious cliches. That its central character lives and conducts his interviews in an ordinary-looking house that's surrounded by nothing but desert as far as the eye can see aptly reflects how the film itself appears familiar but always stands apart. Another key factor that makes Nine Days the movie it is: its detail. That's a product of Oda's commitment, too. His on-screen realm looks and feels fleshed out and lived in, and so do his characters (yes, even given the premise). Visually, that approach delivers sights that slip onto the screen like favourite possessions, such as walls of old-school TVs, deep stares at both hopeful and pensive faces, and lingering gazes at the sandy expanse surrounding Will's house. Cinematographer Wyatt Garfield's (Beatriz at Dinner) striking shots are also measured, like they're genuinely taking the time to soak in every iota — and the production design he's peering at, including in a room used to give unsuccessful souls one happy memory to hold on to, is a Michel Gondry (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, The Science of Sleep, Be Kind Rewind)-like treasure trove. The same care and attention is afforded Will, Emma, Kyo and their fellow pre-life inhabitants as well, as shines through in the movie's fine-tuned performances. Nine Days is yet another movie that's filled with actors with recent comic book franchise credits; most films are these days. But Duke, Beetz and Wong are hardly talents shackled to their respective parts in Black Panther, Deadpool 2, Joker and Doctor Strange, or to any sprawling universes such titles connect to. They're all performers who bring humanity and vulnerability to their roles here, and in different ways. There's a guarded air of woundedness to Duke's phenomenal internalised portrayal — he's basically a traumatised guardian angel — and a lively curiosity and appreciation to Beetz's work, while Wong radiates empathy. Each of these three key players, and their fellow co-stars, also bake ambiguity into their performances. No person is just one thing, or can ever be solved, after all. That's truly what this evocative and memorable film is all about: the texture, experiences, feelings and enigmas that comprise every soul, and every life.
Something delightful has been happening in cinemas across the country. After months spent empty, with projectors silent, theatres bare and the smell of popcorn fading, Australian picture palaces are back in business — spanning both big chains and smaller independent sites in Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane. During COVID-19 lockdowns, no one was short on things to watch, of course. In fact, you probably feel like you've streamed every movie ever made, including new releases, comedies, music documentaries, Studio Ghibli's animated fare and Nicolas Cage-starring flicks. But, even if you've spent all your time of late glued to your small screen, we're betting you just can't wait to sit in a darkened room and soak up the splendour of the bigger version. Thankfully, plenty of new films are hitting cinemas so that you can do just that — and we've rounded up, watched and reviewed everything on offer this week. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1SEoi8r1Z4Y SUPERNOVA Stanley Tucci and Colin Firth aren't lazy, bad or bland actors. The former has an Oscar nomination for The Lovely Bones, the latter won for The King's Speech, and neither can be accused of merely playing the same character again and again. And yet, whenever either pops up on-screen, they bring a set of expectations with them — or, perhaps more accurately, they each instantly remind viewers of the traits that have served them so well over their respective four-decade careers. In features as diverse as The Devil Wears Prada and the Hunger Games films, Tucci has given a distinctive sense of flair and presence to his many parts, as well as his innate ability to appear bemused and sarcastic about life in general. Whether as Mr Darcy in Pride and Prejudice or as Mark Darcy in the Bridget Jones movies, Firth has enjoyed immense success playing reserved, introverted, dry-witted men who are more likely to ruminate stoically than to outwardly show much emotion. Teaming up in Supernova, both talents draw upon these characteristics once more, as writer/director Harry Macqueen (Hinterland) wants them to. But here's the thing about this pair of stars, who shine particularly bright in this affecting drama: far from ever settling into their own comfortable niches, they're frequently delving deeper, twisting in different directions and offering up untold surprises. A famed novelist less interested in putting pen to paper than in peering up at the stars, Tucci's Tusker knows how to defuse any scenario with his charm in Supernova, but it's apparent that he often uses that canny ability to avoid facing a number of difficulties. An acclaimed musician with an eagerly anticipated concert in the works, Firth's Sam often says little; however, the fact that he's grappling internally with feelings he can't quite do justice to in words always remains evident. Travelling around England's Lakes District, they're not just on an ordinary campervan holiday. Neither man has simply been whiling away their time before their long-awaited returns to performing and writing, either. With stops to see Sam's sister (Pippa Haywood, Four Kids and It) and her family, and to reunite with old friends, the couple are making the most of what time they have left together. Tusker is unwell, with early-onset dementia increasingly having an impact on not only his everyday life, but upon the shared existence they've treasured for decades. Read our full review. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ilNHPfOOeIs GUNDA Move over Babe, Piglet, Porky and Peppa. Thanks to monochrome-hued documentary Gunda, cinema has a brand new porcine star. Or several, to be exact; however, other than the eponymous sow, none of the attention-grabbing pigs in this movie are given names. If that feels jarring, that's because it breaks from film and television's usual treatment of animals. Typically on-screen, we see and understand the zoological beings we share this planet with as only humans can, filtering them through our own experience, perception and needs. We regard them as companions who become our trustiest and most reliable friends; as creatures who play important roles in our lives emotionally, physically and functionally; as anthropomorphised critters with feelings and traits so much like ours that it seems uncanny; and as worthy targets of deep observation or study. We almost never just let them be, though. Whether they're four-legged, furry, feathered or scaly, animals that grace screens big and small rarely allowed to exist free from our two-legged interference — or from our emotions, expectations or gaze. Gunda isn't like any other movie you've seen about all creatures great and small, but it can't ignore the shadow that humanity casts over its titular figure, her piglets, and the one-legged chicken and paired-off cows it also watches, either. It's shot on working farms, so it really doesn't have that luxury. Still, surveying these critters and their lives without narration or explanation, this quickly involving, supremely moving and deeply haunting feature is happy to let the minutiae of these creatures' existence say everything that it needs to. The delights and devastation alike are in the details, and the entire movie is filled with both. Filmmaker Victor Kossakovsky (Aquarela) looks on as Gunda's namesake gives birth, and as her offspring crawl hungrily towards her before they've even properly realised that they're now breathing. His film keeps peering their way as they squeal, explore and grow, and as they display their inquisitive, curious and sometimes mischievous personalities, too. Sometimes, this little family rolls around in the mud. At other times, they simply sleep, or Gunda takes the opportunity to enjoy some shut-eye while her piglets play. Whatever they're doing, and whenever and where, these pigs just going about their business, which the feature takes in frame by frame. In one of the documentary's interludes away from its porcine points of focus, the aforementioned chook hops about. Whether logs or twigs are involved, it too is just navigating its ordinary days. In the second of the movie's glimpses elsewhere, cattle trot and stand, and their routine couldn't seem more commonplace as well. Read our full review. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hbn8-Tpa3no AALTO Sometimes, a documentary doesn't need words, as Gunda wholeheartedly demonstrates. Aalto features plenty, all spoken as voiceover and delving into the life of great Finnish modernist architects Alvar and Aino Aalto; however, the film's visuals would've still kept viewers glued to the screen if not even a single syllable was uttered. For the bulk of the doco's duration, savvy director Virpi Suutari (Entrepreneur) fills the screen with the couple's handiwork. Furniture from the 1930s onwards and buildings up until the 1970s are seen in loving detail, with the feature's imagery zooming in on the former and walking through and soaring above the latter. Some might be familiar, especially on the homewares side — IKEA has taken a few cues from some of their designs over the years — but viewers new and well-acquainted alike will find much to catch their eye. With its smooth bends and sculptural look, the bentwood Paimio Chair is a thing of unshakeable beauty. The unpredictable curves in the pair's various wavy vases are just as vivid to behold. Combining an undulating appearance with rough bricks that Alvar complimented as "the lousiest in the world", Baker House at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology is far more striking than any other college dormitory. And there's minimalistic grace in the buildings at the University of Jyväskylä, which are among the few sites seen in the feature with people in them. To see these pieces and places, and others like them, is to be submerged into the Aaltos' way of viewing the world. Aalto doesn't just stare at the marvellous items designed by its namesakes, though. Suutari also draws upon home videos to tell their story, uses multiple unseen narrators to unfurl and comment upon their tale, and gives voice to letters penned between the pair whenever one travelled away from the other. Indeed, this isn't just a professional portrait, but a personal one, too — and a film made with admiration but not devotion. While Alvar became a world-renowned star, he isn't the sole reason that Aalto remains a famous design name. He also wasn't without his flaws. Accordingly, Aalto doesn't blindly sing his praises, peddle stock-standard male genius tropes or solely peer his way. Yes, the documentary's title mirrors its focus. Aino was a pivotal part of his architectural practice; "regardless of how the drawings are signed, they clearly worked as a team," the film's narration offers. After Aino's death, Alvar's second wife Elissa, another architect, also proved just as crucial. It would've been easy to simply worship Alvar, but Suutari cannily broadens the story around his work — and makes a better, and more interesting and engaging doco as a result. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzvwJiBFhSg CREATION STORIES Whenever someone gets 'Wonderwall' stuck in their head, they partly have Alan McGee to thank. The Scottish music industry executive and Creation Records co-founder happened to be at the same Glasgow bar as Oasis in 1993, and saw the band being turned away by management despite their claim that they were booked to play a gig. When the Manchester-based group was eventually allowed in, McGee checked out their set. He quickly offered them a recording contract and, yes, history was made. His impact upon the music world doesn't end there, either, with McGee managing The Jesus and Mary Chain, putting out records by Primal Scream and My Bloody Valentine, and getting involved in the acid house scene as well. That means that Creation Stories has much to cover. The lively biopic initially frames its episodic jumps through McGee's life via a chat between the exec (Ewen Bremner, T2: Trainspotting) and a journalist (Suki Waterhouse, The Broken Hearts Gallery), but that's just an excuse to leap back into his memories. From there, the film pinballs from his unhappy teenage years with his doting mother (Siobhan Redmond, Alice Through the Looking Glass) and stern father (Richard Jobson, Tube Tales), and his early attempts to soar to music stardom in London, to Creation's many financial ups and downs and his involvement in politics. Creation Stories is adapted from McGee's autobiography of the same name, with Trainspotting author Irvine Welsh and playwright Dean Cavanagh penning the script; however, it often feels as if McGee himself saw Rocketman and asked for his own version. That sensation comes through stylistically, thanks to the frenetic pace, vibrant splashes of colour and ample scenes of drug-fuelled partying. It's also evident in the impressionistic approach applied to McGee's life, telling a tale that mightn't always be 100-percent accurate in every minute detail but is wholly designed to capture the wild mood and vibe perfectly. Both movies boast Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrel stars as their directors, too, with Nick Moran (The Kid) jumping behind the lens here. And, the two films also benefit from standout lead performances, with Bremner as stellar as he's ever been on-screen. Indeed, the actor best known as hapless heroin addict Spud couldn't be more important in Creation Stories. So much of the film's chaotic ride through McGee's highlights and lowlights rests upon Bremner's larger-than-life portrayal, peppy presence, mile-a-minute gift of the gab and deceptive charisma, so its central talent was always going to make or break the film. There's no shaking its general adherence to the rock biopic genre, though, but there's also no doubting its alluring energy. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LLg86R4Ay-Y THE UNHOLY The Exorcist was not an easy movie to make, as exceptional documentary Leap of Faith: William Friedkin on The Exorcist made clear. But over the past four decades, the horror masterpiece has proven a very easy film to emulate again and again — or, to try to ape in anything that pairs religion and scares, at least. Copying it is nowhere near the same as matching it, of course. That's especially the case when most one-note flicks that attempt the feat simply think that crosses, creepy females and stilted, unnatural body movements are all that it takes. The Unholy is the latest example, to uninspired, unengaging, unoriginal, unconvincing and thoroughly unsurprising results. Adapted from the 1983 James Herbert novel Shrine by seasoned screenwriter turned first-time feature director Evan Spiliotopoulos (Charlie's Angels, Beauty and the Beast, The Huntsman: Winter's War), the movie's premise has promise: what if a site of a supposed vision of the Virgin Mary and subsequent claimed miracles, such as Lourdes in France and Fatima in Portugal, was targeted by a sinister spirit instead? But, despite also boasting the always-charismatic Jeffrey Dean Morgan (The Walking Dead) as its lead, all that eventuates here is a dull, derivative and not even remotely unsettling shocker of a horror flick. The fact that The Evil Dead and Drag Me to Hell's Sam Raimi is one of its producers delivers The Unholy's biggest scare. Looking constantly perplexed but still proving one of the best things about the film, Morgan plays disgraced journalist Gerry Fenn. After losing his fame and acclaim when he was caught fabricating stories, he now makes $150 per assignment chasing the slightest of flimsy supernatural leads. His current line of work brings him to the small Massachusetts town inhabited by Father Hagan (William Sadler, Bill & Ted Face the Music) and his niece Alice (Cricket Brown, Dukeland), the latter of whom is deaf. Thanks to a barren tree, a creepy doll, an eerie chapter of history and a strange run-in with Gerry, however, she can soon suddenly hear and speak. She says that can see the Virgin Mary, too. Swiftly, word about her story catches the church, media and public's attention. Even if Spiliotopoulos had kept the novel's title, it'd remain obvious that all isn't what it seems — the film starts nearly two centuries ago with a woman being burned alive at the aforementioned tree, so nothing here is subtle. But instead of pairing an exploration of the dangers of having faith without question with demonic bumps and jumps, The Unholy embraces cliches with the same passion that satan stereotypically has for fire. The cheap-looking visuals, Cary Elwes' (Black Christmas) wavering accent and the bored look on co-star Katie Aselton's (Synchronic) face hardly help, either. If you're wondering what else is currently screening in cinemas — or has been lately — check out our rundown of new films released in Australia on January 1, January 7, January 14, January 21 and January 28; February 4, February 11, February 18 and February 25; and March 4, March 11, March 18 and March 25; and April 1 and April 8. You can also read our full reviews of a heap of recent movies, such as Nomadland, Pieces of a Woman, The Dry, Promising Young Woman, Summerland, Ammonite, The Dig, The White Tiger, Only the Animals, Malcolm & Marie, News of the World, High Ground, Earwig and the Witch, The Nest, Assassins, Synchronic, Another Round, Minari, Firestarter — The Story of Bangarra, The Truffle Hunters, The Little Things, Chaos Walking, Raya and the Last Dragon, Max Richter's Sleep, Judas and the Black Messiah, Girls Can't Surf, French Exit, Saint Maud, Godzilla vs Kong, The Painter and the Thief, Nobody, The Father, Willy's Wonderland, Collective and Voyagers.
Trolls brings its tiny, brightly coiffed creatures to the screen with plenty of baggage. You might have played with the toys that the film is based on. You probably don't have particularly fond memories of many other toy-based franchises – think Transformers, G.I. Joe and Battleship. At the very least, you've almost certainly had Justin Timberlake's inescapable 'Can't Stop the Feeling', which features in the flick, stuck in your head for months. Here's the good news: as directed by SpongeBob SquarePants veterans Mike Mitchell and Walt Dohrn, Trolls is far from the eye-roll-worthy effort it might seem like on paper. On a scale ranging from The Smurfs to The LEGO Movie, it falls firmly in the middle — even if it does little more than swap blue critters for their brightly coloured counterparts, with elements of Cinderella thrown in as well. Here, trolls are "the happiest creatures the world has ever known," and don't they like to sing, dance and hug about it. The scrapbook-loving, party-throwing Princess Poppy (Anna Kendrick) often leads the charge, and she has plenty to celebrate. Twenty years earlier, the pocket-sized folk were frequently scooped up and eaten by huge, hungry beings called Bergens, but quick thinking on the part of King Peppy (Jeffrey Tambor) saw them escape and live joyously ever after. But their idyllic existance is suddenly shattered when an evil chef (Christine Baranski) stumbles upon their habitat. Soon, a handful of trolls are destined for the plate of Bergen Prince Gristle (Christopher Mintz-Plasse), leaving Poppy with the task of saving them, and cranky survivalist Branch (Timberlake) begrudgingly lending his assistance. There's a reason that the Bergens are so keen on catching and munching on the rainbow-hued critters: when they do, they experience a burst of ecstatic contentment that's probably on par with humans eating Nutella-slathered doughnuts. That sensation, of course, ties into the lesson at the heart of the film. As Trolls works towards the song we all know is coming — and throws up various other pop covers along the way — it serves up a heavy-handed moral about finding happiness from internal sources rather than external ones. Still, somehow the movie manages to find a balance between loud, shiny and sickly sweet, and entertaining enough. Kendrick's enthusiastic voice work helps, as do the handmade-looking visuals, which make the film's CGI appear as though it's fashioned out of felt and other crafting products. On the joke front, just as many light-hearted gags and pop culture references land as languish, which is a better strike rate than many other family films. A word of warning though: it might be dressed up in fuzzy packaging in more ways than one, but Trolls also remains the kind of flick that features glitter fart clouds and cupcakes poop. Consider yourself warned.
Buy this for a dollar: a history-making gay rom-com that's smart, sweet, self-aware and funny, and also deep knows the genre it slips into, including the heteronormative tropes and cliches that viewers have seen ad nauseam. Actually, Billy Eichner would clearly prefer that audiences purchase tickets for Bros for more that that sum of money, even if he spent five seasons offering it to New Yorkers in Billy on the Street while sprinting along the sidewalk and yelling about pop culture. Thinking about that comedy series comes with the territory here, however, and not just because Eichner brought it back to promote this very movie. Starring and co-written by the Parks and Recreation and The Lion King actor — with Forgetting Sarah Marshall and the Bad Neighbours franchise's Nicholas Stoller directing and co-scripting — Bros both presents and unpacks the public persona that helped make Billy on the Street such a hit: opinionated, forceful and wry, as well as acidic and cranky. No one person, be it the version of himself that Eichner plays in the series that helped push him to fame or the fictional character he brings to the screen in Bros — or, in-between, his struggling comedian and actor part in three-season sitcom Difficult People, too — is just those five traits, of course. One of Bros' strengths is how it examines why it's easy to lean into that personality, where the sheen of caustic irritability comes from, the neuroses it's covering up and what all that means when it comes to relationships. The movie does so knowingly as well. It's well aware that Eichner's fans are familiar with his on-screen type, and that even newcomers likely are also. Accordingly, when Bros begins, Eichner's in-film alter ego is shouting about pop culture and being adamant, grumpy and cutting about it. In fact, he's on a podcast, where he's relaying his failed attempt to pen a script for exactly the kind of flick he's in. A mainstream, studio-produced gay romantic comedy that starts out riffing on the difficulties of making a mainstream, studio-produced gay romantic comedy? Yes, that's Bros. ("Am I going to be in the middle of some high-speed chase and all of a sudden fall in love with Ice Cube?", Eichner asks as the feature's protagonist Bobby Lieber.) A film about a gay man known for a biting and droll disposition, starring a gay man similarly known for that type of biting and droll disposition? Yes, that's Bros as well. It's also a movie that makes fun of Hallmark rom-com schmaltz while featuring one of the US network's go-tos — that'd be Sense, Sensibility and Snowmen, A Shoe Addict's Christmas, Christmas in My Heart and The Mistletoe Promise's Luke Macfarlane — and a flick blasting Schitt's Creek some scorn while charting a comparable queer storyline. So, it's a feature that wears its obviousness and its contradictions in tandem, purposefully and proudly. Eichner's Bobby is 40, just received an LGBTQIA+-community Best Cis Male Gay Man award and has a dream gig setting up America's first national queer history museum. Rom-com logic, which Bros heartily subscribes to, means he has to discover his seeming opposite in a memorable way: a gay dance party where he complains to shirtless probate lawyer Aaron Shepard (Macfarlane) and finds sparks flying. How Stoller and Eichner handle this scene says plenty about the film, and the authentic view of gay romance, dating and sex it's committed to. Neither man — Grindr-swiping, emotionally unavailable, hardly content as they both are — is anything but himself. For Bobby, that means awkwardly flirting, getting furious when Aaron disappears mid-conversation, tracking him down and telling him about it, but also being non-committal and even angry for being attracted to him. For Aaron, it involves continuing to breeze around the party like nothing out of the ordinary has happened; "I'm supposed to fuck him and his husband later," he tells Bobby about two other buff, sweaty guys on the dancefloor as they're chatting. Even when the genre isn't giving the world the first romantic comedy about two gay men to be released by a major Hollywood studio — the first romantic comedy both written by and starring an openly gay man as well, and also one with an entirely LGBTQ+ main cast — rom-coms adore Bros' basic scenario. In the broad strokes, there's plenty that's universal in the overarching storyline about opposites attracting, the chaos that springs, and the risks and vulnerabilities it takes to love someone. Still, even when it's nodding to Meg Ryan's filmography and also managing to be a Christmas flick as well — and when it's brightly shot and bouncily paced, which is always — this is never a movie where its leads just happen to be gay. A straight couple couldn't just be subbed in with zero changes, and the chief aim is never to show that the same stock-standard struggles plague everyone in matters of the heart regardless of sexuality. Instead, Bros is brimming with detail specific to being a gay man today. That's true in the throuples, group sex and "must see pic of ass" dating-app requests that spark a hunt for ring lights and razors, and in the commentary about tragedy-heavy mainstream queer movies that typically catapult heterosexual actors to Hollywood awards. And, it echoes in the short but hilarious gag about a fictional new app called Zellweger, "for gays who want to talk about actresses and go to bed". Bros spans further, however, examining how Bobby has internalised a lifetime of homophobia directed his way, how that's shaped the persona he projects to the world, its influence over his romantic outlook and his underlying self-criticism. When the film also ponders why he's so conflicted about Aaron, and so acerbic and cynical towards parts of queer culture and its stereotypes, it digs into the same ideas — with a joke always mere seconds away, but with both thoughtfulness and heart. Bros remains unashamedly frothy, although never syrupy or saccharine. It's predictable, even if you've somehow only ever seen one rom-com before now. It runs on charm, care, warmth and insight, though — and more than enough eagerness to make the most of making history. There's just as much willingness, too, to add weight and heft to the picture's gay take on rom-com conventions, all amid Debra Messing appearances, Cher gags, Fire Island's Bowen Yang having all the fun as a rich investor, and the savvy bickering between Bobby's museum colleagues about the infinite shades of the rainbow gleaming in the LGBTQIA+ community. Crucially, there's an engaging and heartfelt boy-meets-boy story at the core of it all, as brought to the screen with two well-matched and affecting performances, in a movie that's determined to be equally honest, pioneering and entertaining.
They say that good things come in pairs, and that proves true in the burger realm. The food item no one can get enough of is all about putting something tasty — meat, a veggie alternative, lashings of salad — between a couple of pieces of something roll or bread-like, after all. That's not enough double trouble for Betty's Burgers though, particularly when it comes to finally setting up shop in Brisbane. After announcing that the beloved Gold and Sunshine Coast burg-slingers would be making their long and eagerly awaited arrival in the city that sits between the two beach havens, they've decided to shower Brissie with twice as much deliciousness. Their Newstead store is due to open in Skyring Terrace by July, with a second location at Westfield Chermside set to start serving its titular morsels from June 8. https://www.instagram.com/p/BQpeSw8lmay/?taken-by=bettys_burgers It's a sounds great, tastes even better kind of situation, really. And, it's reason enough to make sure you're always wearing something stretchy if you're heading to the shopping centre's revamped dining precinct, which is currently under construction. The new addition to Betty's retro burger barn fold will boast inside and outside seating, plus all of the staples you know and love. That means five types of burgers (including classic, crispy chicken, pork belly and shroom selections), the massive stacked concoction that combines a good old' beef burg with its mushroom sibling, and Shake Shack-style frozen custard desserts known as 'concretes' in almond toffee marshmallow, honeycomb and ginger biscuit crunch, and hot fudge doughnut flavours, for example. If their menu sounds huge, it's got nothing on the chain's expansion plans, which are moving along thick and fast. A Melbourne joint is now open, Sydney is slated, Robina has joined the fold, and Broadbeach and Toowoomba will soon follow. We truly are living in a burg-tastic world. Find Betty's Burgers at Westfield Chermside from June 8. For more information, keep an eye on their Facebook page. Via Sunshine Coast Daily.
Fancy moseying through wetlands, kayaking in a 1.4-hectare lake, riding along rainforest mountain-bike trails and climbing a high ropes course — all on the edge of Brisbane's CBD? In the near future, a trip to Herston could involve all of the above. They're all features slated for Victoria Park Vision, the huge new 45-hectare public park that's set to replace the Victoria Park Golf Course. First announced in 2019, Victoria Park Vision will completely transform the current space — and Brisbane City Council has just released a draft of its plan. If some of these inclusions sound familiar, that's because the council has been contemplating them over the past couple of months. It first undertook a months-long community consultation process, with more than 5400 people tendering submissions and over 3500 folks showing up to an open day back in September. Then, it announced an overview of the best suggestions in December, which it has now combined with advice from local and international design experts to come up with its current proposal. Also mooted: a cultural hub, artwork and trails paying tribute to Australia's Indigenous heritage, plenty of shady foliage including native greenery, dining areas, picnic spots, and community gardens or perhaps even a small urban farm. In addition to the aforementioned Lake Barrambin, the site will feature waterholes for splashing in, plus a Nature and Water Play Gully for kids. Multipurpose spaces will be designed to host events year-round, too, including performances and exhibitions. All of the above will form part of Brisbane's biggest new park in five decades, and one that'll change the face of the inner city. An opening date for the revamped park is yet to be set, with BCC currently asking for feedback on the plan. You can have your say on the Victoria Park Draft Vision online before April 28. And if you've noticed that mini-golf isn't listed among the huge number of features above, don't worry. While the existing full-size golf course is saying goodbye, Vic Park's current putt-putt and driving range facilities are earmarked to stay. For more information about Victoria Park Vision, and to provide your feedback on the draft plan by April 28, visit the Brisbane City Council website.
It’s called Dracula Untold — a curious title in light of the fact that an IMDB search shows it’s already been told over 200 times. But perhaps there’s something new here? Nope. Did you know Dracula was originally Vlad the Impaler? Yep. Did you know his dastardly turn to darkness was a result of the death of his beloved Mina? Yep. Did you know he ‘vonts to sarrrrk your blaaaard’? Of course you did. Here’s the critical thing: a guy whose nickname includes the words “the Impaler” is not a nice guy. He’s an impaler. He impales people. Yet Dracula Untold sets out with the task of humanising a monster for the purposes of... what, exactly? There isn’t an ‘evil bias’ that needs to be redressed for the sake of balance. Nobody's crying out for Pol Pot to get a heartwarming movie of the week to ensure ‘his side of the story’ is told. Some people are simply savage wretches and wretches they will remain. In short: let villains be villains. Here, the villain isn’t Dracula, but instead the Turkish sultan ‘Mehmed', determined to claim 1000 young Transylvanian boys for his army. Sultan ‘Meh’ would be far more appropriate. He, like the rest of the film, is bland and unthreatening, afforded only a smattering of flavourless lines to occasionally remind us he’s a cold and unfeeling dictator. In response, Vlad opts to become a cold and unfeeling vampire to stop him and save Transylvania’s people. He’s a 19th-century Batman in that he’s a night-time vigilante capable of literally morphing into bats when he needs to get anywhere. The special effects are good, but who cares? This is a film that — lame pun absolutely intended — sucks.
As everyone takes on paleo diets and embraces kale and cacao like they're going out of style, it can be easy to forget the real purpose of good nutrition. No, it's not to impress people with buzzwords or nom on superfoods as a fashion statement — it's about your health and happiness. In an effort to bring this message back to the fore, Australia's first "happiness restaurant" has opened in Melbourne. With chemicals on their mind and delicious fruit on their plates, Serotonin Dealer has swung open the doors of their Madden Grove establishment, Serotonin Eatery, in Richmond. In case you missed that class in high school biology, serotonin is a chemical released by your body that produces the feeling of happiness. There a number of ways you can increase your serotonin levels — get a good night's sleep, maybe grab a little sunlight, cut down on your coffee and booze — but it's also got a lot to do with your food. Despite what you may secretly hope, a big binge at Maccas isn't going to make your body very happy. What we really crave is raw, chemical-free, plant-based foods. This is what Serotonin Eatery will be focusing on. "I don't believe in diets," says founder Emily Arundel. "I believe that everyone should just be aware of what they are putting into their bodies and make the right choices to lead a healthy life." Accordingly, Arundel's cafe will serve fresh juices, smoothies and fibre-rich treats for breakfast, lunch and weekly set dinners. But it won't stop there. With personal trainers and yoga instructors on site for daily morning classes, Serotonin Eatery will be an interactive, inclusive one-stop health shop — a welcome effort to curb Australia's climbing rates of obesity, depression and anxiety. Find Serotonin Eatery at 52 Madden Grove, Burnley. Open Wed-Fri 7am-4pm and Sat-Sun 8am-4pm. Images: Didriks via photopin cc, Serotonin Dealer.
Something delightful has been happening in cinemas in some parts of the country. After numerous periods spent empty during the pandemic, with projectors silent, theatres bare and the smell of popcorn fading, picture palaces in many Australian regions are back in business — including both big chains and smaller independent sites in Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane. During COVID-19 lockdowns, no one was short on things to watch, of course. In fact, you probably feel like you've streamed every movie ever made, including new releases, Studio Ghibli's animated fare and Nicolas Cage-starring flicks. But, even if you've spent all your time of late glued to your small screen, we're betting you just can't wait to sit in a darkened room and soak up the splendour of the bigger version. Thankfully, plenty of new films are hitting cinemas so that you can do just that — and we've rounded up, watched and reviewed everything on offer this week. YOU WON'T BE ALONE What's more terrifying: knowing that death is inevitable, because our fragile flesh will fail us all eventually and inescapably, or accepting that little we ever sense can truly be trusted given that everything in life changes and evolves? In horror movies, both notions stalk through the genre like whichever slasher/killer/malevolent force any filmmaker feels like conjuring up in any particular flick — and in You Won't Be Alone, the two ideas shudder through one helluva feature debut by Macedonian Australian writer/director Goran Stolevski. An expiration date isn't just a certainty within this film's frames. It's part of a non-stop cycle that sees transformation as just as much of a constant. You Won't Be Alone is a poetically shot, persistently potent picture about witches but, as the best unsettling movies are, it's also about so much that thrums through the existence we all know. Viewers mightn't be living two centuries back and dancing with a sorceress, but they should still feel the film's truths in their bones. First, however, a comparison. Sometimes a resemblance is so obvious that it simply has to be uttered and acknowledged, and that's the case here. Stolevski's film, the first of two by him in 2022 — MIFF's opening-night pick Of an Age is the other — boasts lyrical visuals, especially of nature, that instantly bring the famously rhapsodic aesthetics favoured by Terrence Malick (The Tree of Life, A Hidden Life) to mind. Its musings on the nature of life, and human nature as well, easily do the same. Set long ago, lingering in villages wracked by superstition and exploring a myth about a witch, You Won't Be Alone conjures up thoughts of Robert Eggers' The Witch, too. Indeed, if Malick had directed that recent favourite, the end product might've come close to this entrancing effort. Consider Stolevski's feature the result of dreams conjured up with those two touchstones in his head, though, rather than an imitator. The place: Macedonia. The time: the 19th century. The focus: a baby chosen by the Wolf-Eateress (Anamaria Marinca, The Old Guard) to be her offsider. Actually, that's not the real beginning of anyone's tale here in the broader scheme of things — and this is a movie that understands that all of life feeds into an ongoing bigger picture, as it always has and always will — but the infant's plight is as good an entry point as any. The child's distraught mother Yoana (Kamka Tocinovski, Angels Fallen) pleads for any other result than losing her newborn. You Won't Be Alone's feared figure has the ability to select one protege, then to bestow them with her otherworldly skills, and she's determined to secure her pick. That said, she does agree to a bargain. She'll let the little one reach the age of 16 first, but Old Maid Maria, as the Wolf-Eateress is also known, won't forget to claim her prize when the years pass. Nevena (Sara Klimoska, Black Sun) lives out that formative period in a cave, in her mum's attempt to stave off her fate — and with all that resides beyond her hiding spot's walls glimpsed only through a hole up high. Then the Wolf-Eateress comes calling, as she promised she would. From there, Nevena's initiation into the world — of humans, and of her physically and emotionally scarred mentor — is unsurprisingly jarring. Her transition from the care and protection of her "whisper-mama" to the kill-to-survive ruthlessness of her new "witch-mama" disappoints the latter, soon leaving the girl on her own. Still, the need to hunt, devour and mutate has already taken hold, even if Nevena is left fending for herself as she shapeshifts between animals and other humans. With Noomi Rapace (Lamb), Alice Englert (The Power of the Dog) and Carloto Cotta (The Tsugua Diaries) also among the cast, You Won't Be Alone turns Nevena's curiosity-driven experiences of life, love, loss, identity, desire, pain, envy and power into an unforgettable, mesmerising and thoughtful gothic horror fable — charting switches and the stories that come with them with each metamorphosis. Read our full review. If you're wondering what else is currently screening in Australian cinemas — or has been lately — check out our rundown of new films released in Australia on June 2, June 9, June 16, June 23 and June 30; and July 7, July 14, July 21 and July 28; August 4, August 11, August 18 and August 25; and September 1, September 8 and September 15. You can also read our full reviews of a heap of recent movies, such as Mothering Sunday, Jurassic World Dominion, A Hero, Benediction, Lightyear, Men, Elvis, Lost Illusions, Nude Tuesday, Ali & Ava, Thor: Love and Thunder, Compartment No. 6, Sundown, The Gray Man, The Phantom of the Open, The Black Phone, Where the Crawdads Sing, Official Competition, The Forgiven, Full Time, Murder Party, Bullet Train, Nope, The Princess, 6 Festivals, Good Luck to You, Leo Grande, Crimes of the Future, Bosch & Rockit, Fire of Love, Beast, Blaze, Hit the Road, Three Thousand Years of Longing, Orphan: First Kill, The Quiet Girl, Flux Gourmet, Bodies Bodies Bodies, Moonage Daydream, Ticket to Paradise and Clean.
The movies have come to Downton Abbey and Violet Crawley, the acid-tongued Dowager Countess of Grantham so delightfully played by Maggie Smith (The Lady in the Van) since 2010, is none too fussed about it. "Hard same," all but the most devoted fans of the upstairs-downstairs TV drama may find themselves thinking as she expresses that sentiment — at least where Downton Abbey: A New Era, an exercise in extending the series/raking in more box-office cash, is concerned. Violet, as only she can, declares she'd "rather eat pebbles" than watch a film crew at work within the extravagant walls of her family's home. The rest of us mightn't be quite so venomous, but that's not the same as being entertained. The storyline involving said film crew is actually one of the most engaging parts of A New Era; however, the fact that much of it is clearly ripped off from cinematic classic Singin' in the Rain speaks volumes, and gratingly. When the first Downton Abbey flick brought its Yorkshire mansion-set shenanigans to cinemas back in 2019, it felt unnecessary, too, but also offered what appeared to be a last hurrah and a final chance to spend time with beloved characters. Now, the repeat effort feels like keeping calm and soldiering on because there's more pounds to be made. Don't believe the title: while A New Era proclaims that change is afoot, and some of its narrative dramas nod to the evolving world when the 1920s were coming to a close, the movie itself is happy doing what Downton Abbey always has — and in a weaker version. There's zero reason other than financial gain for this film to unspool its tale in theatres rather than as three TV episodes, which is what it may as well have tacked together. Well, perhaps there's one: having Lady Mary Talbot (Michelle Dockery, Anatomy of a Scandal) proclaim that "we have to be able to enter the 1930s with our heads held high" and set the expectation that more features will probably follow. A New Era begins with a wedding, picking up where its predecessor left off as former chauffeur Tom Branson (Allen Leech, Bohemian Rhapsody) marries Lucy Smith (Tuppence Middleton, Mank) with everyone expected — the well-to-do Crawleys and their relatives, plus their maids, butlers, cooks, footmen and other servants — in attendance. But the film really starts with two revelations that disrupt the Downton status quo. Firstly, Violet receives word that she's inherited a villa in the south of France from an ex-paramour, who has recently passed away. His surviving wife (Nathalie Baye, Call My Agent!) is displeased with the arrangement, threatening lawsuits, but his son (Jonathan Zaccaï, The White Crow) invites the Crawleys to visit to hash out the details. Secondly, a movie production wants to use Downton for a shoot, which the pragmatic Mary talks the family into because — paralleling the powers-that-be behind A New Era itself — the aristocratic brood would like the money. With Violet's health waning, she stays home while son Robert (Hugh Bonneville, Paddington 2) and his wife Cora (Elizabeth McGovern, The Commuter) journey to the Riviera — as part of a cohort that also includes retired butler Mr Carson (Jim Carter, Swimming with Men), who's determined to teach his French counterparts British standards. And, as the Dowager Countess remains in Yorkshire exclaiming she'd "rather earn a living down a mine" than make movies, potential family secrets are bubbling up abroad. That subplot takes a cue or two from Mamma Mia!; Downton Abbey creator and writer Julian Fellowes must've watched several musicals while scripting. Violet also notes that she "thought the best thing about films is that I couldn't hear them", because the production helmed by Jack Barber (Hugh Dancy, Late Night), and led by stars Guy Dexter (Dominic West, The Pursuit of Love) and Myrna Dalgleish (Laura Haddock, Transformers: The Last Knight), has hit a period-appropriate snag: talkies are the new hot thing, but their flick is silent. 2022 marks two decades since Fellowes won an Oscar for writing what remains his finest achievement yet: the fellow upstairs-downstairs affair Gosford Park. It doesn't do A New Era's viewers much good to dwell on that fact while watching his latest, which is directed by My Week with Marilyn, Woman in Gold and Goodbye Christopher Robin's Simon Curtis as if he simply had a job to get on with. Noticeably, despite the lavish setting and decor that's a fixed part of the franchise, as well as the handsome costuming, Curtis' vision of Downton looks flat and functional rather than gleaming — almost like being stuck with a TV with the always-abhorrent motion-smoothing settings left on. The French-set scenes appear lighter and brighter, purely due to the switch from old-world stateliness to coastal airiness, but hardly dazzle visually either. If a Downton Abbey movie doesn't make the most of its bigger canvas, serves up stories cobbled together from other films, gets soapier otherwise and doesn't have all that much of Maggie Smith in it — even if she makes the utmost of the time she does get on-screen — it's always going to prove a lesser jaunt. That can't be patched over by the winking knowingness of tasking Downton's residents with verbalising how inelegant it is to make a picture there, while also recognising how great the cash is; instead of tongue-in-cheek, that meta choice just lands awkwardly. And, although the returning cast do exactly what their parts call for, with so many players to shoehorn in this can never be a performance-driven piece. Unsurprisingly, some of the feature's best work comes from its newcomers, with Dancy and West both fine additions — and enjoying romantic threads that, while thin, don't just tick boxes as the majority of the screenplay does elsewhere. Also blatant: that the servants are firmly shortchanged, but butler Barrow (Rob James-Collier, Fate: The Winx Saga), kitchen maid Daisy (Sophie McShera, The Queen's Gambit) and Mary's maid Anna (Joanne Froggatt, Angela Black) fare best. Sometimes, A New Era imitates thumbing through a photo album — spotting adored faces fleetingly, recalling old times in the process and, well, that's it. For the most ardent of Downton Abbey devotees, getting another go-around with the show's figures may be enjoyable enough, but this film is all about that easy comfort, nostalgia and familiarity above all else. It's there when John Lunn's score kicks in early, lingers through the all-too-neat ups and downs, and remains when Dockery virtually announces that if this flick does big-enough box-office business, then more's likely to come. Top image: Ben Blackall / © 2021 Focus Features, LLC.
Fists fly in Polite Society. Feet as well. When the latter aren't suspended in mid-air attempting to execute stunning kung-fu stunts, they just might be busting out their best Bollywood dance moves. Words are screamed and shouted, often between sisters Ria (Priya Kansara, Bridgerton) and Lena Khan (Ritu Arya, The Umbrella Academy), who are thick as thieves until they suddenly aren't. Schoolyard fights rumble like they've spilled straight out an action movie, which budding stuntperson Ria dreams of being in. Showdowns with Lena's future mother-in-law Raheela Shah (Nimra Bucha, Ms Marvel) could've burst from a Quentin Tarantino film. Espionage missions are undertaken by high schoolers, as are heists at a spectacular Muslim wedding in a lavish London mansion. Lena scoffs down a whole roast chicken on a public footpath like it's the only thing she's ever eaten. Ria and Lena free themselves from their angst by letting loose in their living room to The Chemical Brothers' dance-floor filler 'Free Yourself'. And being a dutiful member of her community is the absolute worst fate that could await an ass-kicking British Pakistani teenage girl. In other words, a little bit of everything happens in Polite Society, the anarchic and eye-popping debut feature from We Are Lady Parts creator Nida Manzoor. That includes nods to Jackie Chan movies and The Matrix, plus Bond-style antics and Ennio Morricone-esque music drops. Add in riffs on Get Out, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon-inspired wuxia, video-game flourishes, musical dance numbers, and nudges in Jane Austen and Crazy Rich Asians author Kevin Kwan's directions. Scott Pilgrim vs the World and Kill Bill leave imprints. When it examines intergenerational pressure, so do Everything Everywhere All At Once and Turning Red. Whatever this high-energy charmer throws at the screen, it always serves the narrative. It also showcases Manzoor's lively and bold filmmaking eye. But more importantly, Polite Society is the spin-kicking whirlwind it is because that's what it feels like to be a schoolgirl training in martial arts, yearning to pack a literal punch, desperate to become anything but what society demands and tired of being dictated to — and saddled with cultural expectations but determined to propel along one's own path in general, too. At school, Ria is told that she should go into medicine. Other than her best friends Clara (Seraphina Beh, Top Boy) and Alba (Ella Bruccoleri, Call the Midwife), her classmates mock her stunt-performer ambitions. Bully Kovacs (movie debutant Shona Babayemi) even gets brawling over them. Ria's parents Fatima and Rafe (We Are Lady Parts alumni Shobu Kapoor and Jeff Mirza) advocate for a more practical life goal, not just for her but for aspiring artist Lena. And yet, Ria is certain that she's going to make stunts her career, so much so that there's only two other things she believes in as passionately. She has zero doubts that Lena is meant to be a great painter, ignoring the fact that she's just dropped out of art school. Then, when a surprise invite to the Shahs' Eid soirée sees Lena start dating Raheela's doctor son Salim (Akshay Khanna, Chloe), the most lusted-after bachelor in their family's social circle, and get engaged amid plans to move to Singapore, Ria couldn't be more convinced that the whole situation is 100-percent shady. When We Are Lady Parts hit TV screens in 2021, it did so with a clear understanding of complicated sisterly relationships. Focused on all-female, all-Muslim punk rockers, the gem introduced the titular Lady Parts with quite the track: 'Ain't No One Gonna Honour Kill My Sister But Me'. In Polite Society, the film's central sibling feud gets physical — when Ria and Lena throw down in one frenetic fray, "Khan vs Khan" is emblazoned across the frame like this is Street Fighter — and, whether they're flinging limbs or hugging it out, their clash is complex. Battling sisters is a nice shorthand for one of writer/director Manzoor's key messages, stressing that there's no such thing as just one type of Muslim woman. Ria and Lena couldn't be closer before Salim's charisma splinters their bond, but even they don't know everything that each other is, wants, hopes for or fantasies about. There's no one straightforward description for Polite Society either, with its kaleidoscope of genres, bouncing between capers, coming-of-age journey, comic tone, sibling celebration and arranged-marriage satire — and its Bend It Like Beckham-influenced narrative, swapping soccer for stunts. As it bounds through Ria's world, as well as her fears about not realising her only dream and losing Lena to a conventional existence, it manages to sprinkle in horror and science fiction. Manzoor also pays loving tribute to Ria's passion not only by staging dazzling stunts, but by having her protagonist idolise real-life stunt professional Eunice Huthart. The British ex-Gladiators star sports a resume that boasts GoldenEye, The Fifth Element, Titanic, 28 Days Later, Children of Men, Maleficent, Justice League and Eternals, as well as Star Wars, Harry Potter, Fast and Furious, Terminator, Pirates of the Caribbean and Tomb Raider titles, and Polite Society finds room to wink at many of them. Ensuring that the style of a film so utterly suits its story isn't easy, and nor is having every aspect of a movie's look and feel epitomise the statement it's making — then also doing both in a way that makes it plain that no other approach could've done the flick justice. That's a feat that Manzoor smashes, and repeatedly, with equally dynamic help from cinematographer Ashley Connor (Night Sky), editor Robbie Morrison (Starstruck), inspired sound effects and a thumping global soundtrack. The camerawork has as much of a spring in its step as Ria, as does Polite Society's happily hectic pace, vibrant use of colour and everything that echoes from the cinema speakers. All movies should be acts of immersion, but rare are the films that so deeply plunge their audience into their lead character's head and heart with everything it can, let alone so committedly, creatively, convincingly and compellingly. Rare are the on-screen finds like Kansara, too, who is as expressive and exuberant as the picture she's in. Polite Society doesn't idealise Ria at any moment — a film so devoted to shattering stereotypes and destroying any possibility of Muslim women being seen as a monoculture was never going to avoid her impulsiveness and hot-headedness — instead giving Kansara ample room to have a helluva lot of fun in her fleshed-out main part. She's playful, enterprising and heartfelt while operating at a mile-a-minute speed. She isn't afraid to make big leaps and stay spirited from the get-go, and to both unpack and lean into Ria's main-character syndrome. She's also a winning blend of pluck and spark in a roundhouse kick of a joyously entertaining flick that makes every single jab and strike matter.
Back at WTF 2014, audiences were buzzing about one thing. In fact, they couldn't get enough of Underground, with the late-night hangout — think part performance, part speakeasy — the sell-out hit of the festival. It should come as no surprise, then, that Motherboard Productions is returning to Brisbane for WTF 2016, and that they're bringing their blend of drinking, singing and physical theatre with them. This time, they're tackling the tale of Shimchong, transporting the traditional Korean story to modern Australia, throwing in some revolutionary desire and getting political — all with a contemporary pop music soundtrack, of course.
As its eponymous heroine (Daisy Ridley) lays prone in a pond, eyes closed, her hands clutching a wilting bouquet of flowers, Ophelia opens with a potential mic-drop moment. "You may think you know my story; many have told it," the film's narration accurately advises, which usually signals that a swift change of style, approach or pace will soon follow. Thankfully, while slick, over-amped, action-packed modernisations of classic tales have become common on cinema screens of late, this take on Hamlet instead opts to switch its perspective. Exploring the tragedies surrounding the famed, fictional, medieval-era Danish prince (George McKay), the movie doesn't ponder whether to be or not to be. Rather, it views its narrative through his paramour's eyes — with the gorgeously staged and shot feature brandishing noticeable differences as a result, but still looking and feeling as if William Shakespeare wouldn't be rolling in his grave. One of the playwright's most acclaimed and influential works (Star Wars, The Lion King and TV's Sons of Anarchy have all taken their cues from it), Hamlet has always proven a fascinating account of power, politics, love, lust, loyalty and vengeance. In Australian filmmaker Claire McCarthy's (The Waiting City) hands, that's also true, however its new feminist thrust is as intriguing as it is welcome. Adapting the novel by Lisa Klein, screenwriter Semi Chellas (Mad Men) contemplates not only the fate of feuding men, but of women forced to live with the consequences of male-dominated decisions. A delicate balancing act is at play; befitting today's times, Ophelia emerges from Hamlet's sidelines, tries to steer her own course and doesn't simply descend into jilted madness — although, as the Bard intended, her path remains forever tied to her beloved. Uttered firmly and passionately by Ridley, whose Star Wars pedigree ensures she knows a few things about those traits, Ophelia's scene-setting introductory narration characterises its protagonist as "a wilful girl". They're her own words, worn as a badge of honour, which the film then spends its time unpacking. As a slip of a pre-teen (Mia Quiney) who's a little too wily for her widower father Polonius (Dominic Mafham), yet isn't allowed to receive the same education as her brother Laertes (Tom Felton), Ophelia attracts the attention of Queen Gertrude (Naomi Watts). While Hamlet (played as a child by Jack Cunningham-Nuttall) is schooled abroad, Ophelia joins the court's ladies-in-waiting. When the prince returns home as a man, finding Ophelia similarly all grown up, sparks fly — but so does betrayal, death and something rotten in the state of Denmark, especially after the king is slain, leaving his brother Claudius (Clive Owen) to claim Hamlet's throne as well as his mother. McCarthy may buck the current stylistic trend when it comes to re-envisaging well-known, period-set stories (Robin Hood or King Arthur, this isn't, thankfully), but her interpretation still bears signs of its influences. With a focus on star-cross'd lovers, elements of Shakespeare's own Romeo and Juliet sneak in. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern earn a mention in the movie's dialogue, naturally, with the duo's own reimagined filmic excursion — comedy Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead — casting a small shadow. So too do a few of the Bard's recurrent motifs from his broader canon, including potions, twins and plays-within-plays. And yet, Ophelia is steadfastly its own piece, thanks to its evocative mood, sumptuous staging and intricate costuming in no small part. The tale's Elsinore castle setting appears both earthy and ethereal, continuing the lush aesthetics heralded in the movie's opening shot, which nods to Sir John Everett Millais's famed 1850s painting that's also named Ophelia. One particularly horrendous wig aside — a long, drab, floppy mess that does the otherwise adequate Owen no favours — this version of Ophelia also makes the most of many of its stars, as any iteration of this narrative by any name needs to. Playfulness permeates Chellas' reworked prose, alongside the source material's trademark wit, which rolls off of the actors' respective tongues. A sense of inner steeliness reverberates through the film's performances too, not only guiding Ridley's work, but evident in Watts' efforts in multiple roles. Indeed, when a new take on Shakespeare inspires the audience to luxuriate in its characters, their dialogue and the emotions they're conveying, it's nobly doing its job. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bmelYOAFv20
Something delightful is happening in cinemas across the country. After months spent empty, with projectors silent, theatres bare and the smell of popcorn fading, Australian picture palaces are back in business — spanning both big chains and smaller independent sites in Sydney and Brisbane. During COVID-19 lockdowns, no one was short on things to watch, of course. In fact, you probably feel like you've streamed every movie ever made over the past three months, including new releases, comedies, music documentaries, Studio Ghibli's animated fare and Nicolas Cage-starring flicks. But, even if you've spent all your time of late glued to your small screen, we're betting you just can't wait to sit in a darkened room and soak up the splendour of the bigger version. Thankfully, plenty of new films are hitting cinemas so that you can do just that — and we've rounded up, watched and reviewed everything on offer this week. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aSfX-nrg-lI MANK In 2010's The Social Network, David Fincher surveyed the story of an outsider and upstart who would become a business magnate, wield significant influence and have an immense impact upon the world. The applauded and astute film tells the tale of Mark Zuckerberg and of Facebook's development — but it's also the perfect precursor to Fincher's latest movie, Mank. This time around, the filmmaker focuses on a man who once spun a similar narrative. A drama critic turned screenwriter, Herman J Mankiewicz scored the gig of his lifetime when he was hired to pen Orson Welles' first feature, and he drew upon someone from his own life to do so. Citizen Kane is famous for many things, but its central character of Charles Foster Kane is also famously partially based on US media mogul William Randolph Hearst, who Mankiewicz knew personally. Accordingly, Mank sees Fincher step behind the scenes of an iconic movie that his own work has already paralleled — to ponder how fact influences fiction, how stories that blaze across screens silver and small respond to the world around them, and how one man's best-known achievement speaks volumes about both in a plethora of ways. Mank is a slice-of-life biopic about Mankiewicz's (Gary Oldman) time writing Citizen Kane's screenplay, as well as his career around it. It's catnip for the iconic feature's multitudes of fans, in fact. But it also peers at a bigger picture, because that's classic Fincher. When the film introduces its eponymous scribe, it's 1940, and he's recovering from a car accident. In a cast and confined to bed due to a broken leg, he has been dispatched to a Mojave Desert ranch by Welles (Tom Burke, The Souvenir) and his colleague John Houseman (Sam Troughton, Chernobyl), all so he can work his word-slinging mastery. As Mankiewicz toils, the movie wanders back to times, places and people that inspire his prose, especially from the decade prior. Dictating his text to British secretary Rita Alexander (Lily Collins), he draws upon his friendships with Hearst (Charles Dance, Game of Thrones) and the news baron's starlet mistress Marion Davies (Amanda Seyfried) in particular. And yes, as anyone who has seen Citizen Kane will spot, Mank's nonlinear structure apes the script that Mankiewicz pens. Many of the latter film's glimmering black-and-white shots do as well, although you won't spot a sled called Rosebud here. In a script by Jack Fincher — father of David, who wrote the screenplay in the 90s before passing away in 2003 — Mank suggests other factors that made Mankiewicz the person he was, and that shaped Citizen Kane's script as well. Combine all of the above, and a dense and detailed movie results. That's Fincher's wheelhouse, after all. Mank is also visually ravishing and textured, and tonally cutting and icy — which, along with weighty performances, are all Fincher hallmarks. But there's both depth and distance to Mank. It peers in and pokes about, but it never wholly lures the audience in. Watching Oldman and Seyfried's rich scenes together, viewers will wish it did, though. Read our full review. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ETK0fOKwJNQ MONSOON Home may mean different things to different people but, in Monsoon, Vietnam doesn't mean home to Kit (Henry Golding). He was born there, in the aftermath of the war. He spent his earliest years in the Asian nation, with his parents caught up in the aftermath of the conflict. But when he was still a child, his family left for a refugee camp in Hong Kong and then moved permanently to London. Now, as an adult who has lived the bulk of his existence far away, he returns for the first time to bring back his mother's and father's ashes. He's instantly thrown off balance upon his arrival, whether he's driving through moped-filled streets or walking around crowded markets. Little of what he remembers is the same — his old house and his neighbourhood stomping grounds, particularly — and he doesn't recall as much as his childhood best friend Lee (David Tran), who stayed behind, would clearly like. Of what he does recollect, some crucial details clash with Lee's versions, too. Consequently, as Kit roves around Saigon and then Hanoi (his place of birth and his parents' original home, respectively), he's searching for a connection. He'll make one, but not in the way he expects. Monsoon tells a noticeably slight tale, but Cambodian-born Chinese British writer/director Hong Khaou (Lilting) is keenly and overwhelmingly aware that a sense of belonging doesn't simply come with one's birth certificate. He's also a minimalistic filmmaker, in a sense. He delves into straightforward scenarios, and knows that he needn't layer them with too many external complicating factors. In other words, he's cognisant that merely examining how a person copes — even in a very commonplace situation — can deliver several lifetimes worth of complexity without a wealth of other narrative roadblocks or setbacks. As a result, both Khaou and Monsoon ask a significant amount of Golding; they demand more than his previous charisma-driven roles in Crazy Rich Asians, A Simple Favour and Last Christmas have combined, actually. Viewers of those three films already know that he can radiate charm like few other actors currently appearing on-screen, but Monsoon requires Golding's soulful best. At every moment, he's tasked with conveying the potent thoughts and jumbled emotions swelling inside Kit, and with doing so largely without dialogue. It's a quietly powerful performance, and it's one that the movie steadfastly needs. It's one that Monsoon depends upon, kin fact. Thanks in no small part to his efforts, Monsoon feels comfortable and intimate and eye-opening and new all at once — and proves immensely affecting viewing. Read our full review. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xq1F1opr_FE&t=2s ELLIE AND ABBIE (AND ELLIE'S DEAD AUNT) As a teen rom-com about two high schoolers working through their attraction for each other as they're also trying to work out what to do with their lives and how to simply be themselves, there's a strong sense of familiarity about Ellie and Abbie (and Ellie's Dead Aunt). That isn't a sign of laziness, however, because first-time feature writer/director Monica Zanetti wants you to register how much her film resembles other entries in its genre — and to notice what it's doing differently. There's a purposeful sense of clumsiness about the Sydney-set movie, too. Again, that's by design. Studious school captain Ellie (Sophie Hawkshaw, Love Child) has a simmering crush on the far cooler, calmer and more collected Abbie (Zoe Terakes, Janet King), but is struggling to stump up the courage to ask her to the school formal. When the pair do slowly start becoming closer, Ellie doesn't know exactly what to do, or what's expected, or how to be the person she wants to be in her first relationship. Complicating matters is the distance she feels from her mother, Erica (Marta Dusseldorp, Stateless), as she navigates such new emotional terrain — oh, and the fact that, as the title gives away, Ellie's dead aunt Tara (Julia Billington) suddenly starts hovering around and dispensing advice about following her feelings. So far, so sweet. Of course, unfurling a queer romance within such well-worn confines shouldn't be such a remarkable act (and an Australian teen queer romance at that), but it still currently is. Ellie and Abbie (and Ellie's Dead Aunt) isn't just entertaining and understanding, cute and creative with its teen romance, and proudly celebratory of LGBTQIA+ perspectives, though. It's all those things, but Zanetti's decision to open the door to a deeper contemplation of Australia's historical treatment of the queer community gives considerable depth and weight to a movie that mightn't have earned those terms otherwise. The brightly shot feature has a strong sense of place, but without including all of the usual landmark shots that make many features feel like tourism campaigns. More importantly, it has a clear understanding of what LGBTQIA+ Sydneysiders have weathered in past decades. That activism is layered throughout the film in an overt subplot and, while it's hardly treated with nuance (an observation that applies to much of the picture), it's a powerful inclusion. Simply by reaching local cinema screens, Ellie and Abbie (and Ellie's Dead Aunt) makes a statement, but it also pays tribute to all the statements made in big and bold ways — and with tragic and painful outcomes, too — to get to this point in Australian queer history. Read our full review. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-rIcXgMx7hU PINOCCHIO It has been 80 years since Disney's Pinocchio unleashed a wooden puppet and the woodcarver who made him upon animation-loving audiences, adapting Carlo Collodi's 1883 Italian children's novel The Adventures of Pinocchio in the process. And, over that period, that film has remained the version of record. Indeed, it's the reason that generations of viewers are familiar with the story. Matteo Garrone's (Gomorrah) new live-action movie of the same name earns a place alongside it, however. It's one of three new and upcoming features tackling the narrative, ahead of a stop-motion flick co-directed by The Shape of Water's Guillermo del Toro that's due to hit Netflix next year and Disney's own flesh-and-blood iteration that's slated to be helmed by The Witches' Robert Zemeckis — and it serves up a tender and sumptuous take on the fairytale. In relaying how the kindly Geppetto (Life Is Beautiful Oscar-winner Roberto Benigni) shaped a lively log into a boy-sized puppet (Federico Ielapi), who then decides to see the world and strive to become a real child, it also hews far closer to the source material than its animated predecessor. This is a movie clearly made with an abundance of affection for its inspiration, too, and that love and devotion shines through in every frame. In fact, the feature's visuals prove its strongest element, including in bringing Pinocchio to life. He's a detailed marvel who appears oh-so realistic and yet also looks uncanny as well, as intended, and the decision to use a child actor wearing prosthetics rather than relying heavily upon CGI works a charm. The world that Garrone spins around the eponymous puppet is similarly rich and fantastical — and whimsical, although the latter is overdone. Pinocchio is far more resonant when it's letting its central figure discover that being human involves weathering all the cruelties that the earth's population has in store for each other, and watching him learn that Geppetto's unconditional fondness and acceptance is sadly rare. It's much less involving when it's leaning overtly into quirkiness, although that should probably be expected with Benigni involved. Where eccentricity is concerned, this tale already has plenty baked in, as the Fox (Massimo Ceccherini), the Cat (Rocco Papaleo) and the Fairy with Turquoise Hair (Marine Vacth, If You Saw His Heart) all make plain. But even if the whole movie is a little overstated, Garrone has still made a beautiful movie — and one that feels like the natural next step after 2015's Tale of Tales and even 2018's Dogman. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxWfz5hRt94 MORGANA Many a big-screen drama has stepped through the plight of a middle-aged woman unhappy with the state of her life, constrained by the path she's been forced to take, and uncertain about her next steps or committed to do whatever it takes to leave the existence she hates behind. Indeed, it's a list too long to detail; however, the entire history of fiction on celluloid couldn't conjure up anything as distinctive, empowering and intriguing as Morgana Muses' tale — or the wealth of literary narratives about the same idea, either. After charting the course expected of her when she grew up, she found herself not just unhappily married, but despondent in her domestic trappings. Accordingly, the Albury housewife decided to leave her husband and the small town she called home, initially in a tragic fashion. But, as perceptive Australian documentary Morgana shows, Muses thankfully only achieved the first two parts of that equation in her quest to regain control and agency over her choices. From there, she decided to step into the world of feminist pornography, resulting in an acclaimed career that has earned her accolades, applause and attention from Melbourne to Berlin and back again (and, obviously, that has resulted in her journey being immortalised in this movie). It's no wonder that filmmakers Isabel Peppard and Josie Hess were eager to document Muses' story and share it with the world, because it's quite the tale. This isn't likely to be the last film made about Muses, actually, because she instantly screams for several documentaries dedicated to her exploits — and will likely one day inspire a fictionalised drama as well. There's much to unpack, including Muses' resolute determination to bravely put herself first, express her own desires, and create both sex-positive and age-positive erotica. Every one of those decisions isn't just revelatory, but also proves revolutionary in their own way. Candid and complex, Muses is the type of subject that all filmmakers wish they could stumble across, as Peppard and Hess continually show in their engaging film. Morgana isn't just a celebration, though, because even Muses' new life has had its ups, downs, highs and lows — all of which are captured with help from the documentary's willing point of focus, with the help of both talking-head interviews and fly-on-the-wall-style footage, and with glimpses of the work that's transformed Muses' existence. https://vimeo.com/469681168 LOVE OPERA Australia's performing arts scene has been shuttered for much of 2020 due to the COVID-19 pandemic. But documentary Love Opera lets viewers peer behind the scenes of a production that hit the stage long before anyone had ever heard of the novel coronavirus that changed life as we know it this year — and to spend time with the talented folks who toiled to make the show in question happen, too. The opera: Carmen. The bodies responsible: the Lisa Gasteen National Opera Program (LGNOP) and the Queensland Symphony Orchestra. The year: 2017. Established by internationally renowned Australian soprano Lisa Gasteen, the intensive program trains Australian and New Zealand opera singers, and has put on a semi-staged production at the end of each year since 2017. Accordingly, Love Opera follows LGNOP's first attempt to do just that, from the casting through until the final product. Gasteen features prominently, understandably, chatting not just about the show at hand and the process of bringing it to fruition, but also running through her career, its ups and downs, the reality of getting to the top of the industry and her decisions for embarking upon her current path. Also lending the film their thoughts, feelings and observations are the program's cofounder Nancy Underhill, plus conductors Alondra de la Parra and Simone Young, as well as singers such as Rachel Pines and Morgan England-Jones. There's much to cover, as filmmaker Liselle Mei recognises, with the film quickly flitting through a wealth of material — and touching upon a plethora of topics in the process. The physicality required to be an opera singer, the passion that drives it, the difficulty of being a younger talent when many roles are written for older characters, the way the art form has been changing over the years, the treatment of queer creatives: all of this earns the documentary's attention, and each could've received more screen time if there wasn't so much to cover. But Love Opera never feels slight on any area of interest. It doesn't break the behind-the-scenes doco mould, either, but it delivers a broad rather than shallow snapshot of everything required to make the LGNOP's version of Carmen happen. Brisbanites will notice all of the drone shots of the movie's setting, which can border on intrusive; however, both opera lovers and newcomers alike receive an insightful glimpse at the ins and outs of the medium, its homegrown stars both established and emerging, and the hard work behind crooning its tunes in such a resonant fashion. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sS9AYlUfp0A FATMAN When a film or TV show fills one of its roles in a gimmicky way that's obviously designed to garner publicity, it's called stunt casting. The term wholeheartedly applies to Fatman, a flimsy action-comedy that features Mel Gibson as Santa (and delivers his second big-screen release of 2020 after the abysmal Force of Nature). Even just reading about the premise, you can probably see the light bulbs going off in casting executives and other filmmaking powers-that-be's heads when they came up with the idea — because enlisting the American-born, Australian-raised actor as the symbol of all things wholesome and jolly sits in stark contrast to the far-from-jovial string of controversies that have popped up in his personal life, especially over the past decade. But a movie needs more than a blatant stunt to actually serve up something worth watching. And as far as shameless attempts to grab attention go, getting Gibson to play the red-suited figure just proves ill-advised and uncomfortable rather than provocative. Writer/directors Eshom Nelms and Ian Nelms (Small Town Crime) must feel otherwise, though, because there's very little else to this festive-themed movie. 'Tis the season for dull and muddled movies that aren't anywhere near as edgy as its makers think, and aren't funny or entertaining at all, it seems. Three male characters drive Fatman's narrative, starting with Chris Cringle (Gibson), who oversees a Canadian workshop that's forced to take a military contract to get by. Kids just aren't behaving themselves enough these days, so he's delivering more lumps of coal than presents — and the stipend he receives from the US government to cover the elf-made gifts has decreased as a result. One of those bratty children, 12-year-old rich kid Billy Wenan (Chance Hurstfield, Good Boys), decides he isn't happy with his haul one Christmas. His solution: enlisting an assassin to bump off Santa as payback. Said hitman, who is just called Skinny Man (Walton Goggins), has been harbouring a lifelong grudge against the titular character anyway and doesn't take much convincing. Ant-Man and the Wasp and Them That Follow star Goggins is the best thing about a movie that has very little going for it, which speaks volumes about the one-note plot points. But given the distinct lack of jokes, the clumsy attempts to satirise today's supposedly uncaring times and the routine feel that infuses even its frenzied scenes of violence, he can't turn the film into a gift for anyone. Fatman wants to be an action-packed take on a Bad Santa-esque comedy, but ends up faring even worse than that beloved movie's awful sequel Bad Santa 2. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tdce40rfRbk ALL MY LIFE No one with cancer would wish for their experience with the horrific disease to be turned into a schmaltzy movie about how hard their illness was for their partner. Based on the true story of digital marketer-turned-chef Solomon Chau and his psychology masters student girlfriend and later wife Jennifer Carter, that's what All My Life serves up — and while it feigns to focus on both of them, this overt attempt at tugging on viewers' heartstrings makes it clear that it's really about the latter. The title refers to Jenn (Jessica Rothe, Happy Death Day) and the 'make every moment count' wisdom she discovers watching Sol (Harry Shum Jr, Crazy Rich Asians) battle liver cancer. Over and over again, especially in tough and devastating situations, the film's visuals focus on her rather than him, too. It cuts away from him when he's explaining how difficult it all is, to follow her anger about their changed wedding plans instead. It literally foregrounds her in a shot when he's just received a big blow, and is understandably failing to cope. And it gives her time to scream in anguish in her car after yet more unpleasant news comes his way, in case viewers weren't certain who the movie thinks is the real victim. All My Life may be shot in the soft and sunny hues of a trite Nicholas Sparks-penned romance — and clearly aspire to sit in their company — but it's insidious in the way it uses one real-life person's sickness to make its preferred protagonist seem more interesting. It's a gender-flipped, illness-driven variation on the dead wife trope, as seen in the likes of Inception and Shutter Island, where the male lead is given a sob story to make his tale more dramatic. It's firmly in line with the way that cinema routinely sidelines those dealing with cancer over those standing by their sides, as seen far too often (when a movie about cancer or featuring a cancer-stricken character doesn't stick to the template, such as Babyteeth earlier this year, it stands out). The narrative details that All My Life chronicles may stem from reality, but they're ground down to a formula: girl meets boy, sparks fly, their future sprawls out before them, then cancer gets in the way and she can't have her dream nuptials. There's also never any doubt that this movie wouldn't exist if the GoFundMe campaign set up for Sol and Jenn's initially postponed wedding didn't garner significant media attention, as if some level of fame makes one cancer story more important than the rest. But it's the choice of focus that transforms this film from an expectedly cliched addition to the weepie genre and into overt slush. Director Marc Meyers' My Friend Dahmer also struggled with a similar approach, also choosing to spin a story around someone other than the obvious point of interest — and the fact that Shum puts in All My Life's best performance makes the tactic all the more galling and grating here. If you're wondering what else is currently screening in cinemas — or has been lately — check out our rundown of new films released in Australia on July 2, July 9, July 16, July 23 and July 30; August 6, August 13, August 20 and August 27; September 3, September 10, September 17 and September 24; October 1, October 8, October 15, October 22 and October 29; and November 5 and November 12. You can also read our full reviews of a heap of recent movies, such as The Personal History of David Copperfield, Waves, The King of Staten Island, Babyteeth, Deerskin, Peninsula, Tenet, Les Misérables, The New Mutants, Bill & Ted Face the Music, The Translators, An American Pickle, The High Note, On the Rocks, The Trial of the Chicago 7, Antebellum, Miss Juneteenth, Savage, I Am Greta, Rebecca, Kajillionaire, Baby Done, Corpus Christi, Never Rarely Sometimes Always, The Craft: Legacy, Radioactive, Brazen Hussies and Freaky. Top image: Mank, Nikolai Loveikis/Netflix; Monsoon, Dat Vu.
Standing in a bar, being forced to make small talk with a stranger: we've all been there. Hearing from your parents more frequently than you have time for, despite your best intentions: many of us have experienced that as well. In Toni Erdmann, both scenarios combine in a way that might well give you nightmares. Just imagine if the person accosting you while you try to enjoy a drink turned out to be your dad in a bad wig and false teeth. At its simplest, that's the idea behind writer-director Maren Ade's 162-minute comedy, which has been garnering acclaim since it premiered at the 2016 Cannes Film Festival, and remains the favourite to win his year's Oscar for best foreign-language film. A German consultant living in Bucharest, Ines (Sandra Hüller) is irritated when her practical joke-loving, divorced and lonely father Winfried (Peter Simonischek) arrives for an unexpected visit. But that soon gives way to unbridled horror when his alter ego Toni starts following her around. Once is odd, twice is annoying, and three times… well, that's something else. Then again, one of the basic elements of life is repetition, which Toni Erdmann demonstrates disarmingly well. First, you'll cringe. Then you'll laugh. Before long, you may find yourself crying. Those are the stages audiences cycle through while watching Ade's film, and it's no accident. The mastery evident in ensuring that every detail of the movie imitates life can't be underestimated. The naturalistic camerawork and astute commentary on the importance of humour is not unlike Toni's ridiculous headpiece: it's just what's visible on the surface. With all the buzz around the film in the lead up to the Oscars, it's hardly surprising to learn that we'll soon be getting an American remake (starring Jack Nicholson and Kristen Wiig). Why the world needs an English-language version is a question Hollywood is happily ignoring, but its high-profile cast certainly have huge shoes (and wigs, and false teeth) to fill. As Toni keeps ramping up his antics and Ines keeps struggling to contain her reactions, Hüller and Simonischek prove the film's most important pieces, ensuring their characters are not just likeable, but thoroughly believable as well. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0uwi5EPnpA
If you were after any confirmation of Bruce Munro's talents, you need only look at the roaring success of his spectacular Red Centre installation, Field of Light. Experienced by more than 450,000 visitors during its first three years lighting up Uluru, the large-scale work's stay was extended twice, before it was confirmed it would be sticking around indefinitely. Now, the internationally acclaimed visual artist is bringing some of that luminous magic down south, by way of two new site-specific outdoor art installations set to grace the banks of the Murray River. Comprising one work on the Victorian side of the border and another in New South Wales, Light/State is a multimillion-dollar, two-part project that's anticipated to have visitors flocking in their hundreds of thousands. First up will be the Victorian phase of the production, known as Trail of Light. Making its home on the western banks of Lake Cullulleraine, this one takes the form of an immersive walking trail, guiding audiences through a stunning landscape featuring 12,550 glowing 'fireflies'. Work has already begun on the installation, which will feature a total of more than 301,200 flickering points of light once it's completed in late 2023. Across the river, the town of Wentworth will play host to sibling work, Munro's Fibre Optic Symphony Orchestra. Set to clock in at around 220 metres wide, the installation is made up of 108 fibre optic light columns, each arranged around a classic Hill's Hoist clothesline. The colour-changing lights will pulse and glow in time to the accompanying soundscape, translating music into a rainbow of hues. The work is slated for completion in mid 2024. Bruce Munro has created more than 45 large-scale installations worldwide, often pulling inspiration from the shared human experience and responding to the natural landscape. [caption id="attachment_744632" align="alignnone" width="1920"] 'Field of Light', by Mark Pickthall[/caption] Bruce Munro's 'Light/State' will comprise two parts — 'Trail of Light' is set to open at Lake Cullulleraine from late 2023, while 'Fibre Optic Symphony Orchestra' will launch in Wentworth in mid 2024. Top image: 'Field of Light', Tourism Central Australia
Trust a mockumentary about the undead to keep coming back in new guises. Taika Waititi and Jemaine Clement's What We Do in the Shadows first came to light as a short film in 2005, then made its way to cinemas in rib-tickling feature-length form in 2014, and currently has both a werewolf-focused sequel and a US television remake in the works. As first announced back in 2016, it's also getting a Cops-style TV spinoff named Wellington Paranormal — and SBS has just announced that it will air on Australian TV later this month. The first two episodes of the much-anticipated series will air on SBS Viceland (and be available on SBS On Demand) on Tuesday, July 31, with episodes airing weekly after that. We don't even have to wait too much longer than New Zealand audiences, either — it will air on TVNZ tonight. If you haven't watched the trailer, here's a little background info. Wellington Paranormal doesn't spend more time with everyone's favourite Wellington-dwelling bloodsuckers, even though Waititi and Clement conceived the six-part series. Instead, it follows police officers Karen O'Leary and Mike Minogue, who WWDITS fans might remember came knocking at the vampire share house's door. With the help of Sergeant Maaka (Maaka Pohatu), the cop duo will keep trying to keep the city safe from supernatural happenings — and we're sure viewers will keep watching. When Wellington Paranormal's existence was first revealed, Waititi described the show as "Mulder & Scully but in a country where nothing happens" on Twitter, should you need any more reason to get excited. https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=2&v=WRO2QfESbEI
How many times have you busted a move on the dance floor to Rihanna and thought you really should do this more often? Well now it's time to put your money where your mouth is. Mad Dance House runs a weekly world dance course, where a style from around the world is taught for six weeks before rotating on to the next one. This week it's reggaeton, which blends reggae, hip hop and latin techniques — so you'll have to get your hips moving and lose any of those lingering inhibitions. All levels are welcome, including absolute beginners.
Once a year, for one night only, a New Farm street transforms into a fashion party. That'd be James Street — and, given that the stretch of road boasts plenty of boutique selling designer threads, you know that they know how to put on a sartorial celebration. That's what James St Up Late is all about: exploring the precinct's many outlets, stocking up your wardrobe, getting tempted by specials and browsing the latest collections. In 2022, it's marking ten years of doing just that, in fact, so expect it to be on helluva shindig. From 5–8pm on Thursday, March 31, the after-hours event will feature all of the roadway's boutiques getting in on the action — Gail Sorronda is even hosting a shop-in-shop with labels Romance was Born and Gary Bigeni — plus all of the local bars and restaurants, too. As soundtracked to DJs, there'll be bargains to buy, one-off menus to eat your way through and cocktails to sip. Also a part of the fun: party bags, with 1000 up for grabs featuring goodies from James Street's Silk Laundry, Jardan, St. Agni, Camilla, Lee Mathews, Gelato Messina, The Green, FINEPRINTCO and Priceline, as well as bits and pieces by pals like Assembly by Aiko, Collective Hub, Clif Bar, Yes You Can, Eye of Horus, Proper Crisps, Mirror Merch, Pinot and Picasso, Seed & Sprout and The Daily Edited. And, to help raise funds for flood relief, there'll also be a Fashion Flood charity pop-up thanks to fashion re-seller Label Pig. Images: Andrew Cois.
Perhaps the greatest trick the devil ever pulled — the devil that is time, the fact that we all have to get out of bed each and every morning, and the sleep-killing noise signalling that a new day is here — was to create alarm clocks in a variety of sounds. Some are quiet, soft, calming and even welcoming, rather than emitting a juddering screech, but the effect always remains the same. Whatever echoes from which device, if your daily routine is a treadmill of relentless havoc, that din isn't going to herald smiles or spark a spring in anyone's step. The alarm that kickstarts each morning in Full Time isn't unusual or soothing. It isn't overly obnoxious or horrifying either. But the look on Laure Calamy's face each time that it goes off, in the split second when her character is remembering everything that her day will bring, is one of pure exhaustion and exasperation — and it'd love to murder that unwanted wake-up siren. That expression couldn't be more relatable, as much in Full Time is, even if you've never been a single mother living on the outskirts of Paris, navigating a train strike, endeavouring to trade up one job for another for a better future, and juggling kids, bills, and just getting to and from work. At the 2021 Venice International Film Festival, Antoinette in the Cévennes and Call My Agent! star Calamy won the Best Actress award in the event's Horizons strand for her efforts here — and while the accolade didn't come her way for a single gaze, albeit repeated throughout the movie, it easily could've. Mere minutes into Full Time, it's plain to see why she earned herself such a prize beyond that withering gape, however. Calamy is that phenomenal in this portrait of a weary market researcher-turned-hotel chambermaid's hectic life, playing the part like she's living it. In our own ways, most of us are. The first time the alarm sounds, Julie Roy (Calamy) is already lethargic and frustrated; indeed, writer/director Eric Gravel (Crash Test Aglaé), who won the Venice Horizons Best Director gong himself, charts the ups and downs of his protagonist's professional and personal situation like he's making an unflagging thriller. In fact, he is. Julie is stretched to breaking point from the get-go, and every moment of every day seems to bring a new source of stress. For starters, her job overseeing the cleaning at a five-star hotel in the city is both chaotic and constantly throwing up challenges, and the hints dropped by her boss (Anne Suarez, Black Spot) about the punishment for not living up to her demands — aka being fired — don't help. Julie has put all her hopes on returning to market research anyway, but getting time off for the interview is easier said than done, especially when the French capital is in the middle of a transport strike that makes commuting in and out from the countryside close to impossible. Also adding to Julie's troubles is well, everything. The childcare arrangement she has in place with a neighbour (Geneviève Mnich, Change of Heart) is also precarious, thanks to threats of quitting and calling social services. Having any energy to spend meaningful time with her children at the end of her busy days is nothing but a fantasy, too. Trying to get financial support out of her absent ex is a constant battle, especially given he won't answer the phone — and the bank won't stop calling about her overdue mortgage payments. It's also her son Nolan's (J'ai tué mon mari) birthday, so there are gifts to buy, plus a party to organise and throw. Julie is so frazzled that having a drink with her best friend is a luxury she doesn't have time for, because some other task always beckons. And when a father from her village, the kindly Vincent (Cyril Gueï, The Perfect Mother), helps her out not once but twice, she's so starved of affection that she instantly misreads his intentions. All of this might sound mundane, and like the kind of thing that plenty of people deal with — and that's partly the point. Full Time hones in on the rush, hustle and bustle to impress how fraught this vision of normality is, and how draining. It isn't by accident that the film is nerve-wracking and sweat-inducing to watch. Gravel shows why that tired stare when the alarm goes off is the only thing that someone in Julie's situation can possibly sport. With the marvellous Calamy proving indefatigable at playing fatigued, the filmmaker truly sees his central character, her stresses and that she's at her wits' end, and he makes his audience feel every aspect of her struggle. One such tactic, as straightforward as it is, couldn't be more effective: for Calamy and for the frames that capture her alike, there's simply no rest. Every sharp, cold, tourism-flouting shot by cinematographer Victor Seguin (Gagarine) ripples with tension and drips with anxiety, including extreme closeups of Julie slumbering and hurtling almost-chase sequences as she flits around; her plight, and the nonstop slog, is inescapable. That keeps ringing true as she scrambles everywhere — her rustic cottage, which she'd clearly like to spend more time in; the route to her local railway station, even though the trains are barely running; and her workplace, where she's at her most composed in her pristine maid's uniform, although it can't mask her inner turmoil. On the Parisian streets, she's frequently sprinting; calling the movie Run Julie Run instead would've fit. Visually, every image that graces Full Time adds to the bubbling, broiling pressure cooker, so much so that feeling like only a tragic end can come — and desperately hoping and praying otherwise — ramps up the intensity for viewers. Calling the end result frenetic and kinetic still doesn't completely capture what a blood pressure-raising experience Full Time is, while remaining devastatingly empathetic and insightful; if The Worst Person in the World met Uncut Gems, it might look like this. The rhythm amplified by editor Mathilde Van de Moortel (Mustang) doesn't give up, and the score by first-time composer Irène Drésel earns the same description. A wealth of feelings and ideas linger along the way — the ever-swirling array of roles that Julie has to play, which makes Calamy's performance all the more remarkable; the intimate and sensory dive that Gravel takes, ensuring that the full brunt of Julie's experiences is unavoidable; and how the character's tussles and vulnerabilities, and the strike for better working conditions, run in parallel. One of the great feats that Full Time achieves: making all of this linger, and this exceptional feature in general, the next time that your own alarm goes off.
Fancy moseying through wetlands, kayaking and canoeing in a lake, riding along rainforest mountain-bike trails, peering out from a tree house lookout and climbing a high ropes course — all on the edge of Brisbane's CBD? In the near future, a trip to Herston is going to involve all of the above. They're all features initially slated and now confirmed for the revamped Victoria Park, with a huge new public park set to replace the current Victoria Park Golf Course. First announced in mid-2019, the new vision for Victoria Park will completely transform the current space — and Brisbane City Council has just released its final plan for what that'll entail. If some of these inclusions sound familiar, that's because the council has been contemplating them over the past year or so. It first undertook a months-long community consultation process, with more than 5400 people tendering submissions and over 3500 folks showing up to an open day back in September 2019. Then, it announced an overview of the best suggestions in December last year, which it combined with advice from local and international design experts to come up with a new draft proposal that it also asked for feedback on. And now, after all of the above, it's detailing exactly what's in store. Worth noting first up: while BCC was originally calling the space a 45-hectare park, that has now gone up to 64 hectares. Just how that change has come about hasn't been outlined, but the park is specifically increasing the area dedicated to green space and reducing the room taken up by new buildings. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c9QzyOabzb4 Also on the agenda: a cultural hub, artwork and trails paying tribute to Australia's Indigenous heritage, plus plenty of shady foliage including revegetated forests and pockets of native bushland. There'll be dining areas and picnic spots, too, and community gardens — or perhaps even a small urban farm or urban orchard. Multipurpose spaces such as a green amphitheatre will be designed to host events year-round as well, including performances and exhibitions. In addition to the aforementioned Lake Barrambin — where you'll be kayaking and canoeing — the site will feature lagoons and wetlands, a 'nature and water play gully' for kids, restored waterholes for wildlife, and waterside boardwalks to mosey along. And the existing Centenary Pool will be part of the park, if you're keen for a dip. All of the above will comprise Brisbane's biggest new park in five decades, and one that'll change the face of the inner city. An opening date for the revamped park is yet to be set, though — but community engagement on the final plan is mooted for 2021, and the golf course is expected to shut down mid-year in the same year. And if you've noticed that mini-golf isn't listed among the huge number of features above, don't worry. While the existing full-size golf course is saying goodbye, Vic Park's current putt-putt and driving range facilities are earmarked to stay. The revamped Victoria Park doesn't currently have an opening date — but for more information about the project, visit the Brisbane City Council website.
A 90s-style thriller that'd sit comfortably alongside Single White Female, Greta boasts one major attraction. It's never a chore to watch the great Isabelle Huppert on screen, and it's hardly unusual to see the 2017 Oscar nominee dive into unsettling territory, but this stalker tale adds more than just another title to her resume. For anyone who's ever wanted to witness the French acting icon being wheeled out of an upmarket New York restaurant in a straightjacket, spit gum menacingly at Chloë Grace Moretz or dance gleefully in stockinged feet while waving a gun around, this is the film for you. And while Greta never lives up to its star's efforts, or to its twisty, pulpy, trashy potential, it's just unhinged enough to mostly entertain — as long as you're willing to go along with it. As co-written by director Neil Jordan (Byzantium) and screenwriter Ray Wright (The Crazies), Greta's story is simple, involving a new NYC resident, a green handbag and a good deed gone wrong. When Frances McCullen (Moretz) spots an abandoned purse on a subway seat, she does the right thing and tracks down its owner. "Where I come from, that's what we do," the Boston native tells her incredulous roommate Erica (Maika Monroe), who suggests pocketing the contents instead. Serving up a fresh pot of coffee as a thank you, the eponymous Greta Hideg (Huppert) is immensely grateful for Frances' efforts, and a surrogate mother-daughter relationship springs between the two women. All's fine and well when they're rescuing a stray dog from the pound, catching up in the park and eating dinner together. But when Frances starts to doubt Greta's motives, the situation gets creepy very quickly. The loneliness of 21st-century city living is a fascinating and endlessly relevant topic — we've never been more crowded physically and more connected virtually, yet feeling isolated has hardly been relegated to the past. A thematically slight film, that's not Greta's main concern, even as it follows two characters who are well acquainted with the aforementioned sensation. Greta and Frances' general emotional wellbeing barely troubles the movie, and nor do their backstories, other than giving the duo absent family members that they're clearly trying to replace with each other. Here, what's happening is more important than the reasons behind it. Indeed, why the titular character behaves the way she does is given much less attention than her crazy actions and reactions — and let's just say that she doesn't respond nicely to discovering that her new friendship is under threat. As a result, Greta favours the mechanics of its cat-and-mouse narrative over any potential meaning. Really, the latter is straightforward: don't trust strangers. No really, don't. Not every film needs to overflow with depth, and there's a valuable truth in the movie's refusal to justify its craziness — sometimes horrible things happen without a satisfactory or extraordinary explanation, and sometimes seemingly ordinary, benign people are anything but. Still, the effect can be distancing. Although Huppert and Moretz both put in committed performances, there's very little reason to get invested in Greta's characters, their fight or their fates. Seasoned horror fans know this predicament well, with plenty of routine scary movies simply fine to journey from point A to point B without worrying about much of substance. To go through the motions, in other words. What makes Greta engaging isn't the film's story, which is sparse overall while also proving off-kilter and even preposterous at times. Rather, it's the fact that Jordan knows exactly what he's doing. A standard handbag that's made well still catches the eye, after all, as Frances learns and Greta uses to her advantage. With genre flicks such as The Company of Wolves and Interview with the Vampire to his name, the Irish filmmaker is happy to make the most of genre conventions, executing the expected twists and slick, moody style with a confidence that occasionally veers into winking at the audience. He's taking his cues from his antagonist: leaving something average yet alluring enough in plain view and tempting audiences to try their luck. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IK5pUVT-Sy4
What had Amy Schumer advising that her hosting plan was "to stay present until I black out" and Troy Kotsur promising not to sign any profanity? Where did Timothée Chalamet opt not to wear a shirt, Tiffany Haddish declare that she's a superhero just for being herself, and anniversary tributes to everything from The Godfather, Pulp Fiction and Bond toWhite Men Can't Jump and Juno take place like an entertainment website had somehow come to life? That'd be the 2022 Academy Awards. Back in a March time slot, Hollywood's night of nights just handed out its gongs for this year — recognising films from last year — and plenty happened. Where did the first-ever live performance of Encanto's 'We Don't Talk About Bruno' occur, too? At the Oscars today, obviously. (We won't talk about a certain outburst that also took place, because it doesn't deserve any further oxygen.) While the ceremony always sparks conversation — great, bad or fine, the latter of which fits here apart from its violent interlude — the Academy Awards are always about celebrating top-notch movies. The body behind them made some incredibly questionable choices with its live event this year, including taking eight categories it didn't deem sexy enough out of the televised broadcast (including the one that none other than Hans Zimmer won, and understandably decided not to attend to collect), but a heap of worthy flicks still just picked up shiny trophies. As a result, CODA is now the reigning Best Picture winner, Jane Campion became just the third woman ever to win Best Director and Dune nabbed almost every technical award it could — and they're just some of this year's crop of recipients. From Drive My Car earning some Best International Feature love to Cruella's costumes getting the nod, if you're wondering what else emerged victorious, the full rundown is below. You can also check out our picks for the 11 winners you should watch right now as well — and our full lists of where most of this year's contenders are screening or streaming in both Australia and New Zealand. OSCAR NOMINEES AND WINNERS 2022 BEST MOTION PICTURE The Power of the Dog West Side Story Belfast Dune Licorice Pizza King Richard CODA — WINNER Don't Look Up Drive My Car Nightmare Alley BEST DIRECTOR Jane Campion, The Power of the Dog — WINNER Paul Thomas Anderson, Licorice Pizza Steven Spielberg, West Side Story Kenneth Branagh, Belfast Ryusuke Hamaguchi, Drive My Car PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE Olivia Colman, The Lost Daughter Nicole Kidman, Being the Ricardos Jessica Chastain, The Eyes of Tammy Faye — WINNER Kristen Stewart, Spencer Penélope Cruz, Parallel Mothers PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE Will Smith, King Richard — WINNER Benedict Cumberbatch, The Power of the Dog Andrew Garfield, Tick, Tick... Boom! Denzel Washington, The Tragedy of Macbeth Javier Bardem, Being the Ricardos PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE Ariana DeBose, West Side Story — WINNER Kirsten Dunst, The Power of the Dog Aunjanue Ellis, King Richard Judi Dench, Belfast Jessie Buckley, The Lost Daughter PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE Kodi Smit-McPhee, The Power of the Dog Ciarán Hinds, Belfast Troy Kotsur, CODA — WINNER Jesse Plemons, The Power of the Dog JK Simmons, Being the Ricardos BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY Licorice Pizza, Paul Thomas Anderson Belfast, Kenneth Branagh — WINNER King Richard, Zach Baylin Don't Look Up, Adam McKay (story by McKay and David Sirota) The Worst Person in the World, Joachim Trier and Eskil Vogt BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY The Power of the Dog, Jane Campion The Lost Daughter, Maggie Gyllenhaal CODA, Sian Heder — WINNER Dune, Jon Spaihts, Denis Villeneuve and Eric Roth Drive My Car, Ryusuke Hamaguchi and Takamasa Oe BEST INTERNATIONAL FEATURE FILM Drive My Car (Japan) — WINNER The Worst Person in the World (Norway) Flee (Denmark) The Hand of God (Italy) Lunana: A Yak in the Classroom (Bhutan) BEST ANIMATED FEATURE Encanto — WINNER Luca The Mitchells vs the Machines Flee Raya and the Last Dragon BEST DOCUMENTARY FEATURE Summer of Soul (…Or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised) — WINNER Flee Ascension Attica Writing with Fire BEST ORIGINAL SCORE The Power of the Dog, Jonny Greenwood Dune, Hans Zimmer — WINNER Don't Look Up, Nicholas Britell Encanto, Germaine Franco Parallel Mothers, Alberto Iglesias BEST ORIGINAL SONG 'No Time to Die', No Time to Die (Billie Eilish and Finneas O'Connell) — WINNER 'Dos Oruguitas', Encanto (Lin-Manuel Miranda) 'Be Alive', King Richard (Beyoncé Knowles-Carter and Dixson) 'Down to Joy' Belfast (Van Morrison) 'Somehow You Do', Four Good Days (Diane Warren) BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY Dune, Greig Fraser — WINNER The Power of the Dog, Ari Wegner The Tragedy of Macbeth, Bruno Delbonnel Nightmare Alley, Dan Laustsen West Side Story, Janusz Kaminski BEST FILM EDITING Dune, Joe Walker — WINNER The Power of the Dog, Peter Sciberras Don't Look Up, Hank Corwin King Richard, Pamela Martin Tick, Tick... Boom!, Myron Kerstein and Andrew Weisblum BEST PRODUCTION DESIGN Dune, Patrice Vermette and Zsuzsanna Sipos — WINNER Nightmare Alley, Tamara Deverell and Shane Vieau West Side Story, Adam Stockhausen and Rena DeAngelo The Tragedy of Macbeth, Stefan Dechant and Nancy Haigh The Power of the Dog, Grant Major and Amber Richards BEST VISUAL EFFECTS Dune, Paul Lambert, Tristan Myles, Brian Connor, Gerd Nefzer — WINNER Free Guy, Swen Gillberg, Bryan Grill, Nikos Kalaitzidis, Dan Sudick Spider-Man: No Way Home, Kelly Port, Chris Waegner, Scott Edelstein and Dan Sudick Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, Christopher Townsend, Joe Farrell, Sean Noel Walker and Dan Oliver No Time to Die, Charlie Noble, Joel Green, Jonathan Fawkner, Chris Corbould BEST COSTUME DESIGN Cruella, Jenny Beavan — WINNER Dune, Jacqueline West and Bob Morgan West Side Story, Paul Tazewell Nightmare Alley, Luis Sequeira Cyrano, Massimo Cantini Parrini and Jacqueline Durran BEST MAKEUP AND HAIRSTYLING The Eyes of Tammy Faye, Linda Dowds, Stephanie Ingram and Justin Raleigh — WINNER Dune, Donald Mowat, Love Larson and Eva von Bahr Cruella, Nadia Stacey, Naomi Donne and Julia Vernon Coming 2 America, Mike Marino, Stacey Morris and Carla Farmer House of Gucci, Goran Lundstrom, Anna Carin Lock and Frederic Aspiras BEST SOUND Dune, Mac Ruth, Mark Mangini, Theo Green, Doug Hemphill and Ron Bartlett — WINNER West Side Story, Tod A Maitland, Gary Rydstrom, Brian Chumney, Andy Nelson and Shawn Murphy No Time to Die, Simon Hayes, Oliver Tarney, James Harrison, Paul Massey and Mark Taylor Belfast, Denise Yarde, Simon Chase, James Mather and Niv Adiri The Power of the Dog, Richard Flynn, Robert Mackenzie and Tara Webb BEST DOCUMENTARY SHORT SUBJECT Audible Lead Me Home The Queen of Basketball — WINNER Three Songs for Benazir When We Were Bullies BEST ANIMATED SHORT FILM Affairs of the Art Bestia Boxballet Robin Robin The Windshield Wiper — WINNER BEST LIVE ACTION SHORT FILM Ala Kachuu — Take and Run The Dress The Long Goodbye — WINNER On My Mind Please Hold Top image: Netflix.
UPDATE, March 25, 2022: The Worst Person in the World is currently screening in Australian cinemas, and is also available to stream via Google Play, YouTube Movies, iTunes and Prime Video. When Frances Ha splashed a gorgeous portrait of quarter-life malaise across the screen nearly a decade back — proving neither the first nor last film to do so, of course — its titular New Yorker was frequently running. As played by Greta Gerwig, she sprinted and stumbled to David Bowie's intoxicating 'Modern Love' and just in general, while navigating the constantly-in-motion reality of being in her 20s. It takes place in a different city, another country and on the other side of the globe, but The Worst Person in the World's eponymous figure (Renate Reinsve, Phoenix) is often racing, too. (Sometimes, in the movie's most stylised touch, she's even flitting around while the whole world stops around her.) Norwegian writer/director Joachim Trier (Thelma) firmly understands the easy shorthand of watching someone rush — around Oslo here, but also through life overall — especially while they're grappling with a blatant case arrested development. Capturing the relentlessly on-the-go sensation that comes with adulthood, as well as the inertia of feeling like you're never quite getting anywhere that you're meant to be, these running scenes paint a wonderfully evocative and relatable image. Those are apt terms for The Worst Person in the World overall, actually, which meets Julie as she's pinballing through the shambles of her millennial life. She doesn't ever truly earn the film's title, or come close, but she still coins the description and spits it her own way — making the type of self-deprecating, comically self-aware comment we all do when we're trying to own our own chaos because anything else would be a lie. The Worst Person in the World's moniker feels so telling because it's uttered by Julie herself, conveying how we're all our own harshest critics. In her existence, even within the mere four years that the film focuses on, mess is a constant. Indeed, across the movie's 12 chapters, plus its prologue and epilogue, almost everything about Julie's life changes and evolves. That includes not just dreams, goals, fields of study and careers, but also loved ones, boyfriends, apartments, friends and ideas of what the future should look like — and, crucially, also Julie's perception of herself. As the ever-observant Trier and his regular co-screenwriter Eskil Vogt track their protagonist through these ups and downs, using whatever means they can to put his audience in her mindset — freezing time around her among them — The Worst Person in the World also proves a raw ode to self-acceptance, and to forgiving yourself for not having it all together. They're the broad strokes of this wonderfully perceptive film; the specifics are just as insightful and recognisable. Julie jumps from medicine to psychology to photography, and between relationships — with 44-year-old comic book artist Aksel (Anders Danielsen Lie, Bergman Island), who's soon thinking about all the serious things in life; and then with the far more carefree Eivind (Herbert Nordrum, ZombieLars), who she meets after crashing a wedding. Expressing not only how Julie changes with each shift in focus, job and partner, but how she copes with that change within herself, is another of The Worst Person in the World's sharp touches. At one point, on a getaway with friends more than a decade older than her, Julie is laden with broad and trite generalisations about being her age — which Trier humorously and knowingly counters frame by frame with lived-in minutiae. A place, a person, the chaos that is being an adult (and, with the latter, the truth rather than the stereotypes): across three thematically connected films, spanning 2006's Reprise, 2011's Oslo, August 31st and now The Worst Person in the World, that's been Trier's formula. Calling it a pattern or recipe does the trio an injustice, though, because each feature is as individual as any person. Here, Trier is clearly aware of how romantic dramedies like this typically turn out, and ensures that his movie never simply parrots the obvious — unless it's unpacking the chasm between the standard big-screen story we've all seen too many times and the tangled reality. This isn't the usual cliche-riddled affair, and that commitment to transcend tropes, and to truly contemplate what growing up, being an adult and forging a life is really like (including at both the sunniest and the most heartbreaking extremes), both feeds and enables Reinsve's astonishing work. Sometimes, a performance just flat-out shakes and startles you — and Reinsve's falls into that category. That's meant in the greatest of ways; she won the 2021 Cannes Film Festival Best Actress award for her efforts, and turns in a complex, layered and no-holds-barred portrayal that's one of the finest of the year. She could've waltzed into the film straight out of any twentysomething's circle of friends. She plays her part with exactly that air, and she's magnificent. In a movie that proves a discerning and disarming character study above all else, and a masterpiece of one, her performance soars with heart and soul when Julie is at her best, sparkles with chemistry with both Danielsen Lie and Nordrum — both of whom are terrific, too — and seethes with both pain and growth in the character's hardest moments. It shouldn't come as a surprise given how much bobbing around it does — between chapters and the parts of Julie's life they cover, between all the things earning her attention at any given moment, and within Reinsve's multifaceted performance — but The Worst Person in the World is also a tonal rollercoaster. Again, that's a positive thing. As a snapshot of an age and life stage, Trier helms a film that's canny and incisive, also perfects the sensation of constantly zipping onwards even when it seems as if you're stuck, and knows how to find both joy and darkness in tandem. That kind of duality also graces the screen visually, in a feature that can be both slick and naturalistic, which is another deft touch. There's an enormous difference between telling viewers what it's like to be Julie and showing them — and The Worst Person in the World makes sure its audience not only feels it, but feels like they're running through it with Julie as well.
Once a year, The Wickham shuts down a Fortitude Valley street to throw a huge queer party. When Big Gay Day rolls around, it takes over not just the beloved — and recently renovated — pub that hosts it, but the surrounding roadway. And in 2023, it's doing just that again, this time with help from Peter Andre. The 'Mysterious Girl' and 'Gimme Little Sign' singer, who grew up on the Gold Coast, headlines Big Gay Day's just-revealed October lineup. Also on the bill: The Rogue Traders doing a DJ set, Sunshine & Disco Faith Choir, Briefs and Jawbreakers, plus a heap of DJs and drag performers. If you've noticed something different about 2023's afternoon and evening of tunes and LGBTQIA+ celebrations, yes, it has moved its timing from the end of April this year to the beginning of October. As announced before its usual date hit, Big Gay Day was shifted "due to scheduling conflicts with neighbouring stakeholders", swapping places with The Wickham's also-annual Little Gay Day. And, to answer the big question that might've popped into your head, Big Gay Day is still happening on a Sunday as part of a long weekend. That date: Sunday, October 1. Andre headlines after 'Absolutely Everybody' singer Vanessa Amorosi did the same at 2022's Big Gay Day, and Mel C from the Spice Girls did the honours in 2020. The event also spans multiple performance spaces, food trucks, themed pop-up bars and plenty of partying people. And, it gets to enjoy The Wickham's $3.1-million revamp, which has added a weather-proofed beer garden, late-night snacks, monthly drag brunches and a dedicated food menu for dogs to the venue. BIG GAY DAY 2023 LINEUP: Peter Andre The Rogue Traders (DJ set) Sunshine & Disco Faith Choir Briefs Jawbreakers Isis Avis Loren DJ Dolly Llama's Mega Drag DJ Victoria Anothony DJ Jonny Marsh Adam Noviello Reef vs Beef Divas: Live! Host: Paul Wheeler Big Gay Day will take place on Sunday, October 1, 2023 — head to the festival website for tickets and further details.
The first rule of Fight Club is you do not talk about Fight Club. The second rule of Fight Club is you do not talk about Fight Club. Now that we have established the ground rules, I am going to give you some homework. You will leave the house on Wednesday night and you will go see Fight Club at the New Globe Theatre in celebration of the movie’s 15th anniversary. It’s hard to believe that this classic film is 15 years old. Fight Club started as a marvellous piece of transgressive literature and was subsequently turned into one of the most memorable movies of the decade. Brad Pitt and Edward Norton star as two simple men living on the edge of society. Their disdain for life as it stands leads them to discover a primal and visceral form of physical therapy. Featuring a twist that will leave your head spinning and great supporting performances by Jared Leto and Helena Bonham Carter, Fight Club has aged well and is worth a watch whenever you get a chance. Head over to the New Globe Theatre on Wednesday for special screening. No fights though, please.
Detective Robbie Green (Jonathan LaPaglia) is called in to investigate the murder of his former partner, Detective Jason Pearson (Luke Hemsworth). Green and his new partner, Detective Jane Lambert (Viva Bianca), find themselves on the tail of two runaways, ultra-religious cancer-ridden Rachel (Hannah Mangan Lawrence) and her unstable boyfriend, AJ (Alex Williams), who are filming a "documentary" as they seek Biblical retribution for the drug-related death of Rachel's sister. If this sounds like the type of story (and character naming conventions) of an American film circa 1993, you wouldn't be far off. The Reckoning, despite being filmed in Perth and featuring an Australian cast, feels like as if its main concern is ensuring that every element be a facsimile of US thriller tropes. LaPaglia's Green is a short-tempered alcoholic who is trying to be a good father despite being married to the job. Priests wait in candlelit gothic churches to talk wisely to those seeking guidance. High-tech, CSI-style equipment can be used to facially identify anyone spotted on a security camera. And so on. This aping isn't inherently a bad thing. Even the best Australian films are criticised for not even trying to appeal to mass audiences, and the ones that do are so often dismissed as being populist. An industry that produces as few films as ours does cannot afford sub-genres, and so there's little patience for films that are not all things to all people. So with the wider context established, let's pull back before we fall into the trap of reviewing the industry instead of the film. As a gritty crime thriller, The Reckoning is moderately successful. It's diversionary, predictable, derivative and silly, and there's no denying that there's an audience for that. It's slick, too. The kind of slickness that will make it palatable to someone who wants to have something on in the background when it finally does the home video and TV rounds. But there's little in here that would interest a modern audience looking to plonk nearly $20 down for a night out at the cinema. It's not just the story and style that feels dated, but the idea that this possesses anything to distinguish it from a thousand other similarly themed thrillers. Everything in The Reckoning is achingly American, and this would be annoying if it wasn't so obviously deliberate. This is a film with its eye firmly on international sales and goes out of its way to filter out anything that makes it feel Australian. The religious angle, for instance, is weirdly anachronistic, with a priests talking in haughty "my child" this and "the Lord says" that dialogue. Blurry number plates are zoomed in on and enhanced into the sort of clarity that only made sense about twenty years ago when nobody knew how video worked. If all this sounds like nitpicking, well, yes, it is. But it is these details that make or break a film, and with a plot that is as by-the-numbers as this one is, we rely on details to turn it into something more interesting or unique. The Reckoning is a fascinating film for all the wrong reasons. It is out of time, decades too late to be of any interest, and so desperate to cover up its country of origin that its edges are sanded down into something that is ultimately of zero consequence. https://youtube.com/watch?v=gjJgFijldaw
It's a tale as old as time: feuding siblings, an envy-fuelled rivalry, and an attempt to survive in harsh conditions. All three elements drive Icelandic effort Rams, as do the titular animals. Yet there's little about this perceptive examination of the bonds of blood, the struggles of farming life, and the importance of finding hope and humour in even the bleakest of circumstances, that feels routine or overly familiar. Perhaps focusing on the woolly creature's importance to rural townships helps, with the feature's narrative following brothers Gummi (Sigurður Sigurjónsson) and Kiddi (Theodor Juliusson) as they operate neighbouring sheep farms. Perhaps the measured pace, meticulous detail and observational atmosphere does as well, all stemming from writer/director Grímur Hákonarson's documentary background. Indeed, though Rams is a work of fiction, in exploring the hardships of working the land it seems ripped straight from reality. After entering their prized beasts into an annual competition, Kiddi emerges victorious, but a bitter Gummi is convinced that something is awry. Secretly inspecting the winning critter, he spies signs of a highly contagious disease that could wipe out Kiddi's flock, infect his own and cripple the entire village's livelihood. The duo hasn't spoken in four decades, exchanging messages via sheepdog to communicate when needed. However only by working together can they hope to save their animals and their community. While compromise might be called for within the story, as the bickering brothers are forced to unite to fight a shared cause, the movie itself prefer to dwell upon contrasts rather than find common ground. Hákonarson doesn't try to soften the difficulties he depicts, even when he's giving them the quirky comic treatment. Instead, he endeavours to present both tough times and happy moments, and demonstrate the importance of taking the good with the bad. Accordingly, Rams becomes not just an empathetic tale of striving to triumph over adversity, but an intricate exercise in balance. The film shows amusing attempts to outwit the agricultural authorities one minute, and the fearsome impact of the unforgiving Icelandic environment the next. But it never lets the former overpower the latter or vice versa. Of course, when a feature revolves around squabbling siblings, more than a bit of to-ing and fro-ing is to be expected. What makes the film soar isn't its determination to delve into opposing sides, but the way in which it embodies those underlying divides in everything from its visuals to its performances. Cue images that jump between vast sights and intimate interiors, and portrayals that similarly pit bold and subtle traits against each other. In Hákonarson's hands, the many juxtapositions prove not just effective in conveying the story, but insightful as well. Here, the extremes of existence exist as part of a continuum, constantly coming into conflict and yet still managing to coexist. That's the core of Rams, and the secret to making a film feel both immediate and timeless.
It's not every comedian who would take a nonchalant detour from her LA stand-up set to announce to the audience she'd just been diagnosed with breast cancer. That day. "With humour, the equation is tragedy plus time equals comedy," said Tig Notaro that night. "I am just at tragedy right now." A brave, matter of fact Grammy-nominee who did something instantly legendary in 2012, Notaro has just announced she's coming back to Australia. One of the US's biggest stand-up comedians, Notaro is heading to our shores from December 6 – 13 for a limited run of dates presented by Melbourne International. Stopping by Perth, Melbourne, Brisbane and Sydney, Notaro's Boyish Girl Interrupted tour is sure sell out venues within an inch of their capacity — having sold out her wildly successful Edinburg Fringe run last year and sold a casual 100,000+ copies of her Grammy-nominated, second comedy album Live, the follow up to her 2011 debut Good One. Notaro's blend of humour and real life truth bombs have earned her serious high fives from some significantly kickass people — Louis CK tweeted after her LA show, "In my 27 years doing this I have seen a handful of truly masterful performances. One was Tig Notaro last night." Then This American Life's Ira Glass went and praised his frequent TAL contributor, "Tig is now in the heads of hundreds of thousands of people who don’t see her as a comic, she’s now their favourite person." Throw in some kickass guest appearances on The Office, The Sarah Silverman Program, Inside Amy Schumer and Community and you've got yourself one truly applauseworthy comedian. Tig Notaro's Boyish Girl Interrupted 2014 Dates: Perth: Saturday 6 Dec, 8pm — Regal Theatre. Tickets via Ticketek. Melbourne: Tuesday 9 Dec, 8pm — Athenaeum Theatre. Tickets via Ticketek. Brisbane: Thursday 11 Dec, 8pm — Tivoli Theatre. Tickets via Ticketmaster. Sydney: Saturday 13 Dec, 8pm — Enmore Theatre. Tickets via Ticketek. Tickets on sale on Wednesday 17 September. Image: Ruthie Watt.
Something delightful has been happening in cinemas in some parts of the country. After numerous periods spent empty during the pandemic, with projectors silent, theatres bare and the smell of popcorn fading, picture palaces in many Australian regions are back in business — including both big chains and smaller independent sites in Brisbane at present. During COVID-19 lockdowns, no one was short on things to watch, of course. In fact, you probably feel like you've streamed every movie ever made, including new releases, Studio Ghibli's animated fare and Nicolas Cage-starring flicks. But, even if you've spent all your time of late glued to your small screen, we're betting you just can't wait to sit in a darkened room and soak up the splendour of the bigger version. Thankfully, plenty of new films are hitting cinemas so that you can do just that — and we've rounded up, watched and reviewed everything on offer this week. LAMB Just over a decade ago, Noomi Rapace was The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo — The Girl Who Played with Fire and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, too. After starring in the first film adaptations of Steig Larsson's best-selling Millennium books, the Swedish actor then brought her penchant for simmering ferocity to Alien prequel Prometheus, and to movies as varied as erotic thriller Passion, crime drama The Drop and Australian-shot thriller Angel of Mine. But Lamb might be her best role yet, and best performance. A picture that puts her silent film era-esque features to stunning use, it stares into the soul of a woman not just yearning for her own modest slice of happiness, but willing to do whatever it takes to get it. It also places Rapace opposite a flock of sheep, and has her cradle a baby that straddles both species; however, this Icelandic blend of folk-horror thrills, relationship dramas and even deadpan comedy is as human as it is ovine. At first, Lamb is all animal. Something rumbles in the movie's misty, mountainside farm setting, spooking the horses. In the sheep barn, where cinematographer Eli Arenson (Hospitality) swaps arresting landscape for a ewe's-eye view, the mood is tense and restless as well. Making his feature debut, filmmaker Valdimar Jóhannsson doesn't overplay his hand early. As entrancing as the movie's visuals prove in all their disquieting stillness, he keeps the film cautious about what's scaring the livestock. But Lamb's expert sound design offers a masterclass in evoking unease from its very first noise, and makes it plain that all that eeriness, anxiety and dripping distress has an unnerving — and tangible — source. The farm belongs to Rapace's Maria and her partner Ingvar (Hilmir Snær Guðnason, A White, White Day), who've thrown themselves into its routines after losing a child. They're a couple that let their taciturn faces do the talking, including with each other, but neither hides their delight when one ewe gives birth to a hybrid they name Ada. Doting and beaming, they take the sheep-child into their home as their own. Its woolly mother stands staring and baa-ing outside their kitchen window, but they're both content in and fiercely protective of their newfound domestic happiness. When Ingvar's ex-pop star brother Pétur (Björn Hlynur Haraldsson, Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga) arrives unexpectedly, they don't even dream of hiding their new family idyll — even as he's initially shocked and hardly approving. Enticing, surreal and starkly unsettling all at once, Lamb also benefits from exceptional animal performances — it won the Cannes Film Festival's Grand Jury Prize for Palm Dog, the prestigious event's awards for best canine acting — and its own savvy. It nabbed Un Certain Regard Prize of Originality at Cannes as well, but the movie's shrewdness isn't limited to its standout concept. Each patient shot that roves over the hillside, peeks through the fog, and soaks in the strain and pressure is just as astute. Each rustle, huff and jangle in the film's soundscape proves the same. Every aesthetic decision paints Lamb in unease and uncertainty, in fact, and lets its lingering gaze towards the steely Rapace, affecting Guðnason and their four-legged co-stars unleash an intense and absurdist pastoral symphony of dread and hope, bleakness and sweetness, and terror and love. Read our full review. I'M WANITA In Amy, Whitney: Can I Be Me, Billie Eilish: The World's a Little Blurry and similar documentaries, audiences nabbed behind-the-scenes glimpses at music superstars. Via personal and candid footage not initially intended for mass consumption, viewers peeked behind the facade of celebrity — but I'm Wanita evokes the same feelings of intimacy and revelation by pointing its lens at a singer who isn't yet a household name. The self-described 'Australian queen of honky tonk', Wanita Bahtiyar hasn't given filmmaker Matthew Walker a treasure trove of archival materials to weave through his feature debut. Rather, the Tamworth local opens up her daily existence to his observational gaze. Following his 2015 short film about Wanita, Heart of the Queen, Walker spent five years capturing her life — and the resulting doco is as wily as its subject is unpredictable. I'm Wanita mightn't spring from a dream archive of existing footage, but it does dedicate its frames to a dream point of focus; its namesake is the type of subject documentarians surely pray they stumble across. Since becoming obsessed with Hank Williams and Loretta Lynn as a child, Wanita has chased music stardom. Her voice earned her ample attention from her teen years onwards, and her first album received rave reviews that she giddily quotes now; however, she's spent her adult life drinking, partying, and supplementing occasional gigs with sex work. Today, she's a legend in her own head, and also an erratic whirlwind. I'm Wanita charts her trip to Nashville to finally make the record she's always wanted, and yet it never paints her tale as a simplistic portrait of talent unrealised. At home with her beleaguered Turkish husband, rustling up the cash for her big trip with fellow muso and her now-stressed manager Gleny Rae Virus, and in the studio she's always fantasised about, Wanita consistently dances to her own song. She spits out frank and pithy quotes that Walker splashes across the screen as text a little too often, too, but her determination to succeed (and her certainty about her talent) isn't matched by any skerrick of willingness to take a plain, breezy and direct route. It's to Walker's credit that he lets I'm Wanita follow its eponymous figure on that messy and meandering journey, rather than simmering down her story to fit a neat narrative. A Star Is Born, this isn't — even with a glorious closing number that could easily cap off a Hollywood melodrama. Indeed, this is a film about challenges, clashes, contradictions, and careening from highs to lows, with every flat note in Wanita's quest for fame and acclaim largely stemming from the woman herself. It's as rich and engaging a character study that a filmmaker could hope for, because there's simply so much to examine and interrogate (be it Wanita's complicated relationship with her mother and the impact it had on her own efforts with her now mostly estranged daughter, or her belief that alcohol improves her performance versus the reality of seeing her sauced in the studio). Crucially, this is a documentary about pluck, passion, self-belief and self-sabotage, and it steadfastly sees every extreme and everything in-between with clear eyes. In other words, it's the music doco equivalent of a country song, turning hopes and heartbreak into affecting art. WAITING FOR ANYA Great intentions and great films don't always go hand in hand, with Waiting for Anya the latest example. The World War II-set drama treads a path that everything from Lore and The Book Thief to Jojo Rabbit and When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit already have, exploring the conflict's impact upon young hearts and minds — and jumping, as those four other movies did, from the page to the screen. It contrasts the efforts of a French boy in Vichy France with those of Jewish children trying to stay alive, the former aiding the latter in his small village in the Pyrenees. It's a feature made with the utmost earnestness and sincerity, expectedly given the scenario. And yet, it also makes every obvious and easy choice, diluting any potential emotional impact by happily wallowing in Second World War-themed movie-of-the-week territory. As adapted by writer/director Ben Cookson (Almost Married) and screenwriter Toby Torlesse (My Dad's Christmas Date) from a book by War Horse author Michael Morpurgo, Waiting for Anya doesn't waste any time in demonstrating its overt approach. In an early scene, shepherd Jo (Noah Schnapp, Stranger Things) tends to his flock when a bear comes a-lumbering. Soon, the Nazis will do the same. The bear couldn't be more heavy-handed a metaphor, especially in a movie that begins with Jewish man Benjamin (Frederick Schmidt, The Alienist) escaping the train to a concentration camp and secreting away his daughter Anya (debutant Dolma Raisson). In a movie that confronts the Holocaust from the outset, and also provides on-screen text explaining the historical situation, that initial animal attack can only play as needlessly blunt. Jo and Benjamin meet because of that bear, however. And when the teen follows the stranger afterwards, he learns his story. Staying with his mother-in-law (Anjelica Huston, John Wick: Chapter 3 — Parabellum), Benjamin is now doing exactly what the movie's moniker explains, all as other kids make their way to the same farm as a stopover before crossing the mountains to safety in Spain. Jo pledges to help, initially fetching food from the village, and hiding his actions from his mother (Elsa Zylberstein, Selfie) and grandfather (Jean Reno, Da 5 Bloods). But then the Germans arrive, making the situation far more precarious — even if one officer (Thomas Kretschmann, Penny Dreadful: City of Angels) shows uncharacteristic kindness towards Jo. Yes, Waiting for Anya includes a friendly Nazi among its cliches, which is just one of its many poor decisions. Every character is so thinly written, they could fall over if a bear even looked their way or a stiff mountain breeze swelled up. The cast, all putting in passable performances at best, can't improve the material's sore lack of depth — or its inescapably clumsy dialogue. The choice to speak in accented English proves clunky as well, unsurprisingly, making the film feel like a relic from the 70s or 80s. And although the setting should look gorgeous and scenic, visually the sappy and overstated feature resembles one of the many fictional titles that pop up in other movies and TV shows, typically as parodies (aka the flicks listed on website Nestflix). If you're wondering what else is currently screening in cinemas — or has been lately — check out our rundown of new films released in Australia on June 10, June 17 and June 24; July 1, July 8, July 15, July 22 and July 29; August 5, August 12, August 19 and August 26; September 2, September 9, September 16, September 23 and September 30; and October 7. You can also read our full reviews of a heap of recent movies, such as Lapsis, The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It, Fast and Furious 9, Valerie Taylor: Playing with Sharks, In the Heights, Herself, Little Joe, Black Widow, The Sparks Brothers, Nine Days, Gunpowder Milkshake, Space Jam: A New Legacy, Old, Jungle Cruise, The Suicide Squad, Free Guy, Respect, The Night House, Candyman, Annette, Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, Summer of Soul (...Or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised), Streamline, Coming Home in the Dark, Pig, Big Deal, The Killing of Two Lovers, Nitram, Riders of Justice, The Alpinist and A Fire Inside.
Another week, another cookie pie. That's how it feels sometimes thanks to Gelato Messina's beloved desserts — and no, we're not complaining. After the gelato chain first introduced its cookie pies to the world in 2020, it has kept bringing the OTT dessert back. We all need an extra dose of sweetness every now and then, obviously, including while both Sydney and Melbourne are in lockdown. So, it should come as no surprise that Messina is serving up the decadent dessert yet again. This time, though, it's quite the Frankenstein's monster of a dessert. This version is also a returning favourite — and, if you like fairy bread, cookie pies and Messina's gelato, prepare to get excited. Hang on, a cookie pie? Yes, it's a pie, but a pie made of cookie dough. And it serves two-to-six people — or just you. You bake it yourself, too, so you get to enjoy that oh-so-amazing smell of freshly baked cookies wafting through your kitchen. Now that you're onboard with the overall cookie pie concept, the fairy bread version really is exactly what it sounds like. That crunchy, crumbly cookie dough is filled with milk and dark Messina chocolate chunks, as well as vanilla custard. It's then topped with more 100s and 1000s than you've probably seen since your childhood birthday parties. It wouldn't be a fairy bread version otherwise, of course. You can only buy this pie in kits, which means that you'll get some of the cult ice creamery's famed gelato along with it. You can opt for a 500-millilitre tub for $38, a one-litre tub for $44 or a 1.5-litre tub for $48. If you're keen to get yourself a piece of the pie, they're available to preorder from 9am on Monday, July 19 — with pick up between Friday, July 23–Sunday, July 25 from your chosen Messina store. Once you've got the pie safely home, you just need to whack it in the oven for 30 minutes at 160 degrees and voila. You can preorder a Messina fairy bread cookie pie from Monday, July 19, to pick up from all NSW, Vic and Queensland Gelato Messina stores except The Star.
By the beard of Zeus, everyone's favourite TV newsman is back — in podcast form. Not content with his regular job at KVWN Channel 4, or with being the star of Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy and Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues, Ron Burgundy is giving another medium a whirl. Announced late in 2018, The Ron Burgundy Podcast is now staying classy on the iHeartRadio platform. His new show released its first episode on February 7, and will drop new instalments each Thursday. In total, two 12-episode seasons on their way, with the second batch due to hit mid-year. Yes, it's kind of a big deal, as is the fact that Will Ferrell reprises his role as the fictional San Diego newscaster. The entire show is co-produced by Funny or Die, which Ferrell co-founded, so it was always likely that he was going to be involved. While The Ron Burgundy Podcast could've just featured the anchorman chatting while sipping scotchy scotch scotch and talking over his beloved dog Baxter, that's not the finished product. Rather, the character tackles a different topic each week, starting with a subject that no one can get enough of: true crime. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0u_jcTy3JHM Serial, this isn't — but If you've ever wanted to unlock Burgundy's glass case of emotion about the Zodiac Killer, all of your favourite true crime binges and whether obsessing over the genre is a little bit creepy, now you can. In true Ron Burgundy style, he had some words about his new venture. "Listen, I don't know what a podcast is, but I currently have a lot of time on my hands and a lot to talk about. I am also broke. Therefore, I am very excited to do this podcast. It is literally saving my life." The first episode of The Ron Burgundy Podcast is now available on iHeartRadio, with new episodes dropping every Thursday.
Do you wanna know the latest big Australian tour news? Yes, if you're an Arctic Monkeys fan, you do. Already slated to head Down Under for Falls Festival and Lost Paradise, the Sheffield rockers have just gone and added three huge standalone — and outdoor — gigs to their tour itinerary. We bet you'll look good on the dance floor when January 2023 rolls around, obviously. 2022 marks two decades since the band first formed in their Yorkshire home town, and they'll see out the year in Australia, then start next year here as well. For their solo shows, Alex Turner, Jamie Cook, Nick O'Malley and Matt Helders will hit Melbourne's Sidney Myer Music Bowl and Brisbane's Riverstage, both with Mildlife in support, before heading to The Domain in Sydney with DMA's & The Buoys. Arctic Monkeys' last tour to come our way, 2019's Tranquility Base Hotel + Casino World Tour, was massive. Actually, every tour they've brought Down Under has been. Given their career to-date — including scoring the fastest-selling debut album in UK chart history when Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not released in 2006 — that's hardly surprising. (Nor are the Sheffield United and Sheffield Wednesday shirts always spotted in the crowd whenever the band makes the trip Down Under, with Aussie supporters of the group's two hometown soccer teams routinely coming out in force.) It's been four years since the Monkeys' last album, the aforementioned Tranquility Base Hotel + Casino — but they won't be short of hits to play. Expect plenty of fun when the sun goes down, and not just a number-one party anthem on the set list. And if you're somehow not already excited, snap out of it. ARCTIC MONKEYS 2023 AUSTRALIAN TOUR DATES — STANDALONE SHOWS: Wednesday, January 4 — Sidney Myer Music Bowl, Melbourne, with Mildlife Wednesday, January 11 — Riverstage, Brisbane, with Mildlife Saturday, January 14 — The Domain, Sydney, with DMA's & The Buoys Arctic Monkeys are touring Australia in January 2023. Tickets go on sale online at 12pm local time on Friday, June 17, with pre-sales via the band from 10am AEST on Wednesday, June 15 and through Frontier from 10am AEST on Thursday, June 16. For more information, head to the tour website. Top image: Raph_PH via Flickr.
Autumn's here, which means less time at the beach and more time doing indoorsy things like art and theatre and music. Luckily, a stack of bands and singer-songwriters are gearing up to tour the east coast during the next few months, helping to ease your transition into cooler weather. Narrowing them down into a top five has been no mean feat, but, in partnership with JBL Link Speakers, we've come up with these recommendations to kickstart your gigging adventures. And while you're waiting for the gigs to roll around, we curated a handy Spotify list to get you pumped. Listen to it on some JBL Link 10s — anywhere you like because these babies are portable and last you five hours — and you'll feel as if you're almost (we said almost) at the gig already. Here they are, the five gigs to add to your calendar this autumn. All shows are likely to sell out quickly, so don't dilly-dally: get your mitts on tix as soon as your wallet will allow. CAMP COPE This year, Camp Cope's second album, How to Socialise and Make Friends, nabbed a coveted 7.8 review on Pitchfork. A follow-up to their 2016 self-titled debut, the sophomore continues to address misogyny, sexual assault and sexism in the music industry via songwriter Georgia Maq's clever blending of the personal and the political. Lead single 'The Opener', with its quotable lines like "Yeah, just get a female opener, that'll fill the quota", came in at number 58 on the 2017 triple j Hottest 100. On the back of this commercial and critical success, the outspoken Melbourne-based folk-punk-rock trio is gearing up to take its fierce live act across Australia. WHERE AND WHEN — Thursday, March 15 and Friday, March 16: Thornbury Theatre, Melbourne — Saturday, March 17: The Tivoli, Brisbane — Friday, March 23: Metro Theatre, Sydney — SOLD OUT ALEX THE ASTRONAUT AND STELLA DONNELLY Two young Aussie songwriters who aren't afraid of tackling the big issues are teaming up for a joint tour this April. One is Sydney-born, Alex The Astronaut, whose single 'Not Worth Hiding', about openly owning your sexuality, became a bit of an anthem for the 'yes' campaign in the lead-up to the same-sex marriage postal survey. The other is Perth's Stella Donnelly, whose 'Boys Will Be Boys' deals with victim blaming following sexual assault and rape. WHERE AND WHEN — Saturday, April 14: Festival 2018 in South Bank, Brisbane (free) — Wednesday, April 18: Oxford Art Factory, Sydney — Wednesday, April 25: The Corner Hotel, Melbourne THE SMITH STREET BAND It's been almost a year since Melbourne's The Smith Street Band treated us to a national headline tour. But that's not to say they've been resting on their laurels. In 2017, the boys rocked out at several major festivals, including Groovin' the Moo and Splendour in the Grass, supported Midnight Oil and gigged all over the US and Europe. Plus, their new album More Scared of You Than You Are of Me entered the ARIA Charts at number three. Over the next few months, they'll be appearing pretty much everywhere in Australia with support from Bec Sandridge, who toured the UK and Europe last year on the back of new single 'I'll Never Want A BF', and Press Club, who've been basking in big love following the release of their debut single 'Headwreck'. WHERE AND WHEN — Saturday, March 24: Enmore Theatre, Sydney — Monday, April 16: The Tivoli, Brisbane — Saturday, May 12: Hawthorn Arts Centre, Melbourne — SOLD OUT ALEX LAHEY Alex Lahey's catchy melodies and honest lyrics have been scoring airplay ever since she released 'You Don't Think You Like People Like Me' in 2016. Last year, she followed up with debut album I Love You Like a Brother — which made the 2017 Triple J Listeners' Album of the Year list — before touring the UK and the US (including an appearance on Late Night with Seth Myers) and returning home to scoop up the Levi's Music Prize. She's spending March gigging around the UK and Europe, before kicking off the Huge and True tour here in Australia. WHERE AND WHEN — Friday, April 6: Factory Theatre, Sydney — Saturday, April 7: The Triffid, Brisbane — Wednesday, April 17: 170 Russell, Melbourne DZ DEATHRAYS If you're keen to thrash your way through autumn, then get along to one of DZ Deathrays' shows. The Queensland-based duo, who cut their teeth at house parties around Brisbane, are heading out on the road to launch their newest album Bloody Lovely, which is all about solid, old-fashioned party rock songs. Providing support will be up and coming bands Clowns, These New South Whales and Boat Show. Several gigs have already sold out, but new dates have been added, so you've still got a chance if you get onboard and grab a ticket ASAP. WHERE AND WHEN — Wednesday, May 9: Metro Theatre, Sydney — Wednesday, May 23: 170 Russell, Melbourne — Thursday, May 24: The Triffid, Brisbane Get your tix and amp yourself up for the gig with our Spotify playlist — played on some swish JBL Link speakers, of course. And if you don't have wifi and Bluetooth-enabled, voice-activated, durable, long-lasting and, most importantly, high-quality speakers in your possession, we've got some to give away here. https://open.spotify.com/user/concreteplayground/playlist/2k4LuQ65AP4xn0ekGTH1qM
