If there's one thing every Brisbane Festival attendee can count on, it's the Spiegeltent. The location of the canvas dome has changed throughout the years, but the lineup of excellent entertainment never wavers. This year, the program includes old favourites, new discoveries and all the goodness between the two extremes. Where else will you see Megan Washington do her thing, watch Conrad Sewell before he becomes an even bigger hit, revel in Spain's best surf rock band and celebrate the birthday of Brisbane's preeminent community broadcaster, after all? Note: entry to the tent itself is free, but each show has varying prices, so you'd best check the Bris Fest website in advance.
Winn Lane is the little laneway that could – while some of our beautiful city laneways disappear, Winn goes from strength to strength, taking part in a huge rejuvenation and now home to some of Brisbane’s best – Flamingo Café, Little Jane St, Sunday Social, Tym’s Guitars, The Outpost and last, but certainly not least of all, Nine Lives Gallery. The new Nine Lives has been busy since moving into their new nook in January and have sincehosted exhibitions for Westside Tattoo, Simon DeGroot, Max Doyle, Alex Kopps and Alex Knost. Next on the Nine Lives agenda is Nine Wives – an exhibition that borrows its name from the old riddle, I Went To St. Ives. The husband in the riddle originally had nine wives, but as time went on, it was changed to seven. Nine Wives explores this idea of domestic folklore and tradition transforming through generations, with each of the nine artists creating artworks that respond to each of the nine rooms that make up a home. Nine Wives will exhibit sculptures and installations by Rebecca Ross, Carolyn V Watson, Simone Eisler, Dord Burrough, Zoe Porter, Sue-Ching Lascelles, Kristy Morgan, Lucinda Wolber and Dhana Merritt, and is curated by Mariam Arcilla and Megan Cope.
Aloha! Following the unfortunate closure of City Studios, Brisbane’s newest creative studio space The Thought Fort, is now open and ready for business. Located on Wickham Street, The Thought Fort exists as a creative hub for writers, designers, programmers and more to think, work and create in a shared space. The Fort’s presence is yet to “officially” exist though, so what better way to officially inaugurate the space than to have a luau launch party? Yep, for one night this Valley studio will transport you to the warm sunny beaches of Honolulu for their launch party - palm trees, a tiki-emblazoned deck, flower leis ahoy! At this luau launch, you can share a scorpion bowl or dance a little bit of hula, all while meeting and greeting some of Brisbane’s most exotic and tropical creatives. Dress in your best Hawaiian shirt, throw on a grass skirt and say e komo mai (welcome in Hawaiian - obviously) to The Thought Fort!
One of the iconic movie musicals ever made has been adapted beyond cinemas, as a stage show that last hit Brisbane back in 2016. But now Singin' in the Rain is returning to the city in a new guise. The Gene Kelly-starring 1952 flick has scored an onstage concert version, which'll see theatre production company Prospero Arts play through all of the movie's hit tunes. Set to echo through QPAC's Concert Hall from Friday, November 11–Sunday, November 13: all of the tracks that helped make the movie such a winner, including 'Good Morning', 'Make 'em Laugh', 'Gotta Dance' and, of course, the titular 'Singin' in the Rain'. They'll be accompanied by dance choreography, because trying not to tap your toes to this film and everything inspired by it — which also spans La La Land, in fact — is impossible. For those who've somehow missed the 1920s-set big screen classic so far, Singin' in the Rain charts a story of romance and stardom, as silent film star Don Lockwood (Kelly) tries to adjust to the age of talking pictures, and aspiring actress Kathy Selden (the great Debbie Reynolds) tries to make her big break. It was actually crafted around a heap of existing songs, such the eponymous track, 'Make 'Em Laugh' and 'Good Morning'. And yes, the recent Downton Abbey: A New Era definitely took inspiration from it as well. Singin' in the Rain – In Concert will feature including Bobby Fox (Jersey Boys, Hot Shoe Shuffle) as Don, Angelique Cassimatis (A Chorus Line, Strictly Ballroom) as Kathy Selden and Mark Hill (West Side Story, Muriel's Wedding the Musical) as Cosmo Brown, Don's best friend. Just four shows will splash into QPAC for this brief season — and, while there's no trailer for the concert, you can check out the trailer for the film that sparked it all below:
Before watching The Nest, you mightn't have imagined Jude Law playing Mad Men's Don Draper. He didn't, of course. But this new 80s-set psychological thriller about a corroding marriage brings that idea to mind, because it too follows a man who spends his days selling a dream, thinks he can talk and charm his way into anything, and may have unleashed his biggest spin upon himself. More often than not, Law's character here has used his charisma to get whatever he wants, and to evade whichever sticky personal and professional situations he's plunged himself into. Indeed, stock trader Rory O'Hara slides easily into Law's list of suave on-screen roles, alongside the likes of The Talented Mr Ripley and Alfie. But there's also a tinge of desperation to his arrogance, as the actor showcased well in miniseries The Third Day. A Brit who relocated to New York and married horse trainer Allison (Carrie Coon, Widows), Rory looks the picture of Reagan-era affluence but, when he suddenly wants to return to London to chase new work opportunities, the cracks in his facade start widening. When Rory proposes the move to Allison, she's reluctant. From the instant she first spies the centuries-old Surrey mansion he's rented for them, her teenage daughter Sam (Oona Roche, Morning Wars) and their son Ben (Charlie Shotwell, The Nightingale), she's mistrustful as well. Rory crows about how Led Zeppelin once recorded an album there as he tours her through the cavernous property, but the glassiness in Allison's eyes shows that she can't unthinkably subscribe to his glossy view of their relocated existence. That remains true even after he buys her a new horse, and brings home a fur coat for her to wear to his work get-togethers, where he brags about his prowess, success and eagerness to expand his property portfolio with a city apartment. It takes time for Allison to confront Rory's lies, and for his efforts to swindle and cajole his way out of financial strife to tear apart the O'Haras' lives; however, that Rory's posturing and pretence will crumble isn't a matter of if, but when. While it's obvious from the outset that trouble is afoot — from early images that survey the family's almost too-idyllic NY life, in fact — filmmaker Sean Durkin isn't in any rush to unleash The Nest's full nightmare. The writer/director made his feature debut with 2011's cult thriller Martha Marcy May Marlene, so his big-screen career pre-dates Hereditary and Midsommar's Ari Aster, but he's just as committed to evoking a climate of pervasive, unshakeable dread. And, he wants his viewers to linger in it, because his characters must. Allison is forced to live with the knowledge that little is right, but the way she chain-smokes hurriedly illustrates that she also knows how far her fortunes could fall. Every move Rory makes is driven by his need to paint a gleaming portrait of himself, and he's aware that it's a reverse Dorian Gray situation: the shinier and flashier he makes everything seem to anyone who'll listen, the more he rots inside. Durkin doesn't just rely upon an exacting pace and a festering mood of gloom, though. Reuniting with cinematographer Mátyás Erdély (Son of Saul) after 2013 miniseries Southcliffe, he gives every second of The Nest an eerie look — whether staying a few beats longer than normal on its opening shot, lensing vast rooms to emphasise their emptiness, repeatedly peering at the film's characters through glass or breaking out the most gradual of zooms. A sense of distance echoes through the movie, mirroring how the O'Haras can never get close enough to what they really want. Reminders of conflict are perched everywhere, especially in the way that Erdély plays with light and shadow across the family's faces. Decadence abounds, too, but in an overstressed fashion via wood-panelled walls and deep colours seething with darkness. The score by Arcade Fire's Richard Reed Parry plays up the threat and menace, while few recent films have compelled their audience to pay such attention to their unsettling sound design. All that tension and unease conveys not only Rory and Allison's domestic discontent — and, as one rebels and the other frets, Sam and Ben's as well — but also the false promises of chasing capitalism-driven fantasies. When, in a vulnerable exchange, Rory says that his job is pretending that he's rich, The Nest slices savagely into the toxic and false notion that money, belongings and status equal happiness. That should have viewers thinking about Mad Men again, but Durkin takes to the subject like he's making a biting horror movie rather the 21st century's best TV drama so far. The film is called The Nest, after all, and that luxurious abode evokes terror in a number of ways. It's the ultimate symbol of living beyond one's means and attempting to fake it till you make it. It's worlds away from the humble upbringing that Rory's trying to hide. It has more than enough space for Allison to fill with her worries, and to lose her sense of self in. And, in, every creak and suddenly open door, it reflects the paranoia that accompanies trying to be someone you're not. Law is perfectly cast, and Durkin is now two for two, but Coon is as essential to The Nest as her fellow lead and her director. As she demonstrated in Gone Girl and on TV in The Leftovers and Fargo, she's so adept at cutting to the heart of a character's complexities with minimal fuss that her performances feel like their own form of shorthand. And, that's crucial here. As Rory's bluster sees him increasingly flounder, Coon ensures that audiences know exactly how it's affecting Allison at every turn. Cue many of The Nest's most haunting scenes, because there are few things more gut-wrenching than realising that the life you don't even love is a sham, but wading through it day after day nonetheless. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G9OR8RC2t7Q
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. PIG Nicolas Cage plays a truffle hunter. That's it, that's the pitch. When securing funding, those six words should've been enough to ensure that Pig made it to cinemas. Or, perhaps another high-concept summary helped. Maybe debut feature writer/director Michael Sarnoski went with these seven words: Nicolas Cage tracks down his stolen pet. Here's a final possibility that could've done the trick, too: Nicolas Cage does a moodier John Wick with a pig. Whichever logline hit the spot, or even if none did, Pig isn't merely the movie these descriptions intimate. It's better. It's weightier. It's exceptional. It always snuffles out its own trail, it takes joy in subverting almost every expectation and savouring the moment, and it constantly unearths surprises. Cage has spent much of his recent on-screen time fighting things — ninja aliens in the terrible Jiu Jitsu and possessed animatronics in the average Willy's Wonderland, for example — in movies that were clearly only made because that was the case. But, when he's at his absolute best, he plays characters whose biggest demons are internal. Here, he broods and soul-searches as a man willing to do whatever it takes to find his beloved porcine pal, punish everyone involved in her kidnapping and come to terms with his longstanding, spirit-crushing woes. Cage's over-the-top turns are entertaining to watch, but this is a measured gem of a portrayal, and a versatile, touching, deeply empathetic and haunting one that's up there with his finest ever. Sarnoski keeps things sparse when Pig begins; for the poetically shot film and its determined protagonist, less is always more. Rob Feld (Cage) lives a stripped-back existence in a cabin in the woods, with just his cherished truffle pig for company — plus occasional visits from Amir (Alex Wolff, Hereditary), the restaurant supplier who buys the highly sought-after wares Rob and his swine forage for on their walks through the trees. He's taken this life by choice, after the kind of heartbreak that stops him from listening to tapes of the woman he loved. He's found the solace he can in the quiet, the isolation and the unconditional bond with the animal he dotes on. (He's tampered down the full strength of his pain in the process, obviously.) But then, because bad things can happen in cabins in the woods even beyond horror flicks, Rob's pig is abducted in the dark of the night. Now, he's a man on a mission. He has a glare and a stare, too. As the swine's distressed squeals echo in his head, Rob stalks towards Portland to get her back. He has an idea of where to look and who to chase, but he needs Amir to chauffeur him around the city — and Pig is at its finest when its two main characters are together, unpacking what it means to navigate tragedy, fear, loss, regret, uncertainty, an uncaring world and a complicated industry, all in Rob and Amir's own ways. Read our full review. BIG DEAL Recognisable faces spilling essential facts about important topics: it worked for Damon Gameau's documentaries That Sugar Film and 2040, and it works for the Christiaan Van Vuuren-fronted Big Deal. With the same emphasis on being accessible, engaging, clear, sometimes light-hearted and even hopeful, the tactic has also done what it's meant to in Craig Reucassel's various small-screen doco series — see: War on Waste and Fight for Planet A: Our Climate Change — so it should come as little surprise that he directs this big-screen takedown of money in Australian politics. Accordingly, one of the Bondi Hipsters joins forces with a member of The Chaser to lay bare the murky minutiae behind buying sway in our democracy. The subject couldn't be worthier of attention, especially in the lead up to the next federal election, which needs to be held by May 2022. The approach taken in Big Deal couldn't be more familiar, but it proves effective for the same reason it did when sugar and the environment were in the spotlight. These films take something that's crucial, rustle up all the convincing detail, expose tidbits the average viewer mightn't know, compile the appropriate talking heads (which here includes experts, journalists, lobbyists, and current and former politicians such as ex-Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull, former senator Sam Dastyari and current senator Jacqui Lambie) and make it personal. And, if it matters to the person on-screen as they explore a pivotal topic through the lens of their own life, then it's easy for audiences to take their lead. Van Vuuren couches his deep dive into cash for political access, the inequity it represents and the lack of transparency behind it, in two factors: his six-month experience quarantining in hospital with a rare form of tuberculosis, and his awareness of the kind of world he wants his kids to live in. In one of the few gimmicks alongside oversized novelty cheques and Van Vuuren singing, those children build towers of blocks that signify the significant fossil fuel donations to Australia's Labor and Liberal political parties, putting a few additional relatable faces on the subject — because the matters here really do impact everyone. That extended stretch under medical care underscores the documentary's entire perspective, though. Van Vuuren worries that Australian politics is taking more cues from the US than the nation's population realises, or can easily discern given that donations to political parties only need to be disclosed once a year, and nothing underscores one of the big chasms between the two countries like healthcare. It's a blunt card to play, especially during a global pandemic, but it makes the point savvily and well. No Aussie should want to follow America's lead if it could potentially weaken our universal healthcare scheme and the free or affordable treatment available under it, obviously. And, as the film plots out, everyone should want to stop that — and stop corporate interests splashing cash to influence the direction of the nation, especially when everyday Aussies can barely get access to their elected representatives. Read our full review. THE KILLING OF TWO LOVERS If you stare at something long enough, you don't just see the obvious. You notice everything, from the details that fail to immediately catch your attention to the way things can change instantly right in front of your eyes. The Killing of Two Lovers is all about this idea, and on two fronts. It puts a fractured marriage before its lens, ensuring its struggles and troubles can't be ignored. It also takes its time to peer at its protagonist, the separated-and-unhappy-about-it David (Clayne Crawford, Rectify), and at all that his new life now entails. In a sparse small town — with the film shot in Kanosh, Utah — its central figure attempts to adjust to living with his ailing widower father (Bruce Graham, Forty Years From Yesterday). His wife Niki (Sepideh Moafi, The L Word: Generation Q) remains in their home with their four children, as they've agreed while they take a break to work through their problems. David isn't coping, though, a fact that's apparent long before his teenage daughter Jess (Avery Pizzuto, We Fall Down) gets angry because she thinks he isn't fighting hard enough to save their family. He's trying, but as Crawford conveys in a brooding but nervy performance — and as writer/director/editor Robert Machoian (When She Runs) and cinematographer Oscar Ignacio Jiménez (Immanence) can't stop looking at in lengthy and patient takes — he can't quite adapt to the idea of losing everything he knows. There's an element of Scenes From a Marriage at play here, although The Killing of Two Lovers pre-dates the new remake — and so much of the feeling in this gorgeously shot movie comes from its imagery. When it's hard to look away from such rich and enticing visuals, it's impossible not to spot and soak in everything they depict. Each frame is postcard-perfect, not that those pieces of cardboard ever capture such everyday sights, but wide vistas and the snowy mountains hovering in the background are just the beginning. With its long takes, The Killing of Two Lovers forces its audience to glean the naturalistic lighting that never casts David and Niki's hometown in either a warm glow or grim glower. Repeated images of David alone, especially in his car, also leave a firm impression of a man moving and solo. And, presenting most of its frames in the 4:3 aspect ratio, the film also possesses an astonishing and telling sense of space. Nothing is bluntly boxed in here, but everyone is trying to roam within the claustrophobic patch of turf they've scratched out. And, within the feature's square-shaped visuals springs an added fountain of intimacy that cuts to the heart of such close relationships, such as when David and the kids all pile into his truck, or during one of David and Niki's car-bound dates. Read our full review. PALAZZO DI COZZO If Franco Cozzo was to spruik Palazzo Di Cozzo the same way he's promoted his baroque furniture business over the decades, he'd likely repeat one phrase: "grand documentary, grand documentary, grand documentary." He'd do so because that's what he's known for, and because his ads peppered with "grand sale, grand sale, grand sale" are a part of Melbourne's history, even inspiring a single that hit the charts. On the city's TV screens, Cozzo has been the face of his eponymous homewares store, so much so that he's a local celebrity. His lively exclamations fill much of this doco, too, through archival clips, observational footage of him at work and a to-camera interview. In the latter, he sits on one of the ornate chairs he's made a fortune selling, and answers interview questions like he's holding court — and for Melburnians familiar with his name and citywide fame, and for the uninitiated elsewhere, Palazzo Di Cozzo explains both the reason he's regarded as such a prominent personality. Written and directed by feature-length first-timer Madeleine Martiniello (The Unmissables), the result is a film about the hardworking jump its subject took from arriving in Australia from Sicily in 1956 to becoming part of the cultural fabric of his new home. Speaking about the mural painted of Cozzo in Footscray, graffiti artist Heesco notes that his tale is "the migrant dream"; however, while this affectionate film happily stresses that point, it also blissfully takes the easiest route. As a straightforward chronicle that covers the basics — who Cozzo is, what he's done, and also where, when, why and how — Palazzo Di Cozzo ticks the expected boxes in an informative and engaging-enough fashion. It tracks his story from making the move to Melbourne by boat and starting out as a door-to-door salesman, through to his 70s and 80s heyday, his frequent media presence, and his standing today. It lets his personality lead the way, too. And, the film also spends some of its early moments chatting to people who've decked out their houses with his wares, or watched their parents to do the same, to underscore what the rococo aesthetic has meant to Italian expats as an opulent slice of home. But even when one interviewee is in tears recounting how hard her mum and dad must've worked to spend $17,000 on Cozzo furniture in the 70s, there's always a sense that Palazzo Di Cozzo isn't scratching as deep as it should. The documentary doesn't avoid moments that Cozzo would rather forget, and even shows him getting irate when questioning heads in a direction he doesn't like; however, it also indulges rather than interrogates the persona that's leapt up around him over the years. Cue too many instances of people parroting his style of English back to him, and indulging a cartoonish stereotype — and very little effort to understand why that's the image Cozzo chose, what his popularity for playing that part says about Australia and its attitudes towards migrants, and also what the nostalgia afforded his way now says as well. DIE IN A GUNFIGHT How does a filmmaker tell viewers that he's seen Baz Luhrmann's Romeo + Juliet without telling them that he's seen Baz Luhrmann's Romeo + Juliet? If he's Collin Schiffli (All Creatures Here Below), he makes Die in a Gunfight. Anyone else who has watched Romeo + Juliet even once will spot its influence over this pale and obnoxiously grating imitation, not just because it focuses on star-crossed lovers who happen to be the children of generations-old bitter rivals — that'd be Ben Gibbon (Diego Boneta, Love, Weddings and Other Disasters), son of one media baron, and Mary Rathcart (Alexandra Daddario, The White Lotus), daughter of another — but because more than a few of its frames could sit side by side with R+J's and look like mirror images. The vibe takes inspiration from Luhrmann's classic as well, but amped up several notches as if exaggerated copying is the sincerest form of flattery. The over-edited, overly slick overall aesthetic does, too, and ends up looking and feeling as if a film student has just discovered every button on the camera and in the edit suite. And, it might be purely a coincidence that the movie nods to Luhrmann's Australian nationality by casting Travis Fimmel (Dreamland) as an Aussie assassin. You could be generous and think that. But even if it is serendipitous, the fact that Fimmel's character plays like the worst Down Under caricature there is — and that the clearly white figure is called a didgeridoo at one point — couldn't sum up this misfire any better. The narrative tracks most of the usual Shakespearean beats, with Ben and Mary's parents trying to keep them apart — and, in Mary's case, another suitor stalking around with the exact same aim. In not-so-fair Manhattan where Schiffli and screenwriters Andrew Barrer and Gabriel Ferrari (Ant-Man and the Wasp) lay their scene, the pair's two households, both alike in dignity, do indeed turn their ancient grudge into new mutiny. And, misadventure and piteousness definitely ensue, as does heartbreak and bloodshed. When Die in a Gunfight sticks to its obvious source materials, it's a slog and nothing more than an inept duplicate twice over. When it attempts to mix things up, it still just grasps onto well-worn action and romance cliches, and also proves equally unoriginal. It doesn't help that Boneta plays Ben like a brat, that chemistry between him and Daddario is patently absent, or that Justin Chatwin (CHiPs), as the third part of the movie's love triangle, gives big — and bad — pantomime energy. The animated sequences filling in backstory, Billy Crudup's (Where'd You Go, Bernadette) knowing narration and an annoying penchant for splashing character names on-screen in giant lettering all does nothing to improve the feature, either. The Bard's most famous love story has spawned many adaptations, and Luhrmann's take on it has sparked plenty of imitators, but this is the very worst of both worlds. 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 May 6, May 13, May 20 and May 27; June 3, 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; and September 2 and September 9. You can also read our full reviews of a heap of recent movies, such as Locked Down, The Perfect Candidate, Those Who Wish Me Dead, Spiral: From the Book of Saw, Ema, A Quiet Place Part II, Cruella, My Name Is Gulpilil, 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 and Coming Home in the Dark.
First, you watch Rings. Then, your interest in the franchise quickly dies. That's what happens when someone unleashes a video no one really wants to see, right? If the Ring series has taught us anything, it's that unpleasant content always sparks a nasty end — and that's exactly what happens here. In a way, the saga's own rules explain why these movies keep coming, except for the fact that creating a copy is supposed to stop something bad from happening. In this case, it just makes things even worse. Odds are, you should already have some idea as to what this movie is about. Maybe you saw Naomi Watts in 2002's The Ring and its lacklustre 2005 sequel. Maybe you're familiar with the (superior) Japanese original from 1998, Ringu, and the numerous spinoffs that followed on from that. Perhaps you're even aware of the Korean remake The Ring Virus or the recent crossover with The Grudge franchise Sadako vs. Kayako. Point is, the premise remains much the same in every single one: unsuspecting folks press play on a creepy video tape, a phone call delivers a seven-day deadline, and the long-haired Samara (now played by Bonnie Morgan) starts wreaking havoc once time runs out. Finding a VCR at a flea market, college professor Gabriel (Johnny Galecki) and his student Skye (Aimee Teegarden) are the latest to let the unhinged ghost loose, turning it into a research project about the existence of the soul. Freshman Holt (Alex Roe) gets himself caught up in the mess, and is soon counting down the days as well. Enter his worried hometown girlfriend, Julia (Matilda Lutz), who decides to get to the bottom of the whole unsettling business. Wait, didn't the first two American Ring flicks involve a feisty female trying to thwart death by investigating Samara's background? Yes, yes they did. Doing the same thing over and over is what horror sequels are usually about, so the fact that this F. Javier Gutiérrez-directed effort retraces the same path is hardly a surprise. Indeed, there's basically nothing surprising about this film, other than Vincent D'Onofrio showing up to deliver some exposition. When you're trying to elicit scares, that's a problem. Cue the same tape and the same journey, shot in a style that makes the entire movie look like a digital copy of better material. A video-within-a-video of extra spooky visuals taunt Julia and company, and an expanded backstory tries to explain Samara's actions even further, but both just typify the filmmakers' underlying "more is better" line of thinking, and neither device manages to amp up the scares or the intrigue. Nor does updating the concept for the modern day. Seeing Samara on in-flight screens and smartphones, and watching people duplicate files rather than tapes, still ultimately smacks of more of the same. Even more infuriating is the fact that Rings is blatantly setting the scene for more unwanted chapters. That means that the 102-minute revisit isn't just a routine rehash — it's filler designed to work up a frenzy for something that might never actually get made. Keeping audiences hanging for future fare rather than bothering to really entertain them this time around might be common in an era of endless, interconnected superhero movies, but here, it's a bigger drag than Samara's limp locks.
Not all blasts from the past are welcome — and not all trips down memory lane turn out the way you might expect them to. That's a telling message for our nostalgia-soaked times, where everything old always seems to be new again. It's also one Australian actor, writer and producer Joel Edgerton is pushing in his first film in the director's chair. His filmmaking debut, The Gift, is so steeped in tension and wariness about previous deeds, figures and altercations that it crafts a psychological thriller out of it. The feature starts, as many moody mysteries do, with a married pair moving to a new home. Simon (Jason Bateman) and Robyn (Rebecca Hall) are fleeing their recent baggage for a fresh beginning, the former starting a different job, the latter readying the house for trying to start a family. Out shopping one day, they meet Gordo (Edgerton, starring as well as helming), who recognises Simon from high school, though not vice versa. The three make polite, tentative plans to catch up; however, Gordo takes the pleasantries quite a bit more seriously than his reunited pals. Cue the beginnings of a stalker drama that wouldn't feel out of place as a late '80s or early '90s effort featuring Michael Douglas — and that's a compliment. Showing his skill behind as well as in front of the camera, Edgerton ramps up the creepiness in the film's mood, script and in his supporting turn. He's also made a movie that combines slick packaging and mature-skewed content; a glossy piece of entertainment for teens, this isn't. Indeed, again finding inspiration in familiar territory, The Gift isn't just concerned with the series of presents Gordo leaves Simon and Robyn, or his unwanted encroaching on their space, or the not-so-truthful tales he tells to get close to them, but with the chasm between how things appear and how they really are at all levels. There's a reason the audience is instantly aware that the seemingly happy couple aren't really, and that they always feel that Gordo seems both odd and somewhat sweet. Yes, appearances can be deceiving. As a screenwriter, Edgerton best explores the conflict that springs when ghosts from the past expose lies from the present through his characters — and as a filmmaker, through some stellar performances. The director himself straddles the fine line between strange and sympathetic, Hall brings depth to the role of the woman trapped in the middle, and it's always a pleasure to see Bateman flirt with playing the bad guy (the murkiness surrounding Simon and Gordo is The Gift's strong point). When the film devolves into one too many twists, and tries to offer a too-definitive ending — when it finally gets there — it loses steam. Remaining ambiguous and toying with the dynamic between the central trio is what keeps things intriguing. Accordingly, although The Gift may not always balance its generic elements with its ambitions, it revels in trying to present a well-produced piece of unnerving cinema. Here, it mostly succeeds too, because rare is the film that can balance overt jump scares with patient puzzling conveyed through dialogue, and follow a formula yet retain interest.
Above a modest store in a crumbling seaside suburb of Naples, a neon-lit sign bears the word 'Dogman'. In a place that's unshakeably grey in both its look and its mood, it's the shiniest thing in sight. The term refers to Marcello (Marcello Fonte), who makes a living grooming neighbourhood pooches, but it's fitting for reasons beyond those instantly apparent. Spending his days doting over dogs, the small-statured, mild-mannered Italian is the leader of the pack, although only among his faithful four-legged friends. Whenever hulking thug Simone (Edoardo Pesce) barges through his door — usually sniffing out cocaine, and never willing to leave until he's found his fix — Marcello dutifully acquiesces to the human equivalent of a growling pit bull. Returning to the lives of crime that have served much of his filmography so well — acclaimed 2008 mob movie Gomorrah, most notably — writer-director Matteo Garrone leans into the obvious in Dogman. This isn't a blatant or overstated film, however it doesn't shy away from comparing the behaviour of men with that of dogs. One kindly and subservient, the other snarling and vicious, Marcello and Simone adhere as much to the animal kingdom's laws as they do to man's. In Simone's case, the ex-boxer's primal need for instant gratification trumps everything else, be it loyalty, camaraderie, or an awareness of right or wrong. Of course, this is Marcello's story, and so it becomes a tale about aiming to please, bouncing back from mistreatment and learning when to bare one's teeth. The pint-sized underdog has clearly learnt more than a thing or two from his constant canine companions. Garrone starts charting Marcello's plight when his life couldn't be more routine. He works, sharing many a smile with many a mutt. He relishes the time he's given with his adoring daughter (Alida Baldari Calabria), dreaming of taking her far away for a fantasy getaway. And, as well as supplying Simone with drugs, he follows him through bars and on smash-and-grab jobs. While Marcello doesn't have much and he's visibly lonely, he's content to make do with the status quo — he's a good lapdog to his hefty pal, and he's proud about being well-liked by the community. Then, in unrelenting alpha mode, Simone keeps upping the ante. When Marcello isn't defending his bullying buddy from fed-up local shop-owners or saving him from revenge hits, he's sneaking back into the site of one of their burglaries to rescue a chihuahua that the callous behemoth shoves in a freezer. But as Simone keeps imposing his might, even the inexplicably devoted Marcello has his limits. It's a dog-eat-dog world in this grim, gritty drama, which takes the broad thrust of its narrative from a 31-year-old true tale. Both the film's insights and its real-life basis may seem standard on paper, and yet that's never the case on-screen, with Dogman as driven by the current state of Italian society — and of the global community — as it is by a headline-grabbing crime. Blending tense thrills with neo-realist observations, Garrone ponders not only the choices of his protagonist, but the world that's placed him in such a position. Indeed, in its own way, this is a movie about nature versus nurture. Anchored by a devastatingly powerful character study, Dogman examines how Marcello's inherent, overtly affable personality is battered and tested by his bleak, trying situation. Winning the 2018 Cannes Film Festival Best Actor prize for his efforts, Fonte is a whirlwind as the initially perky, increasingly put-upon, eventually perceptive Marcello. He sports the perfect hangdog face for the job, but it's his ability to simultaneously plumb poignant depths, express unfettered earnestness and evoke a sense of lightness that marks his performance as something truly special. Whether Marcello is bathing a huge, howling dog or facing his brutish supposed friend, he's never a one-note character. Dogman is never a one-note movie, either. It offers up a straightforward, even fable-like message, yet it never takes the expected path or lets its bark outshout its bite. Ever the detail-oriented director (and keenly scrutinising every inch of his rundown Neapolitan setting to prove it), Garrone builds a potently layered portrait around two simple truths: even the most well-meaning yap can fall on deaf ears, and a friendly pup is eager to please until it isn't. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qd77T20zjHw
What it means to leave and live up to a legacy comes up often in Creed. Ryan Coogler's boxing drama resurrects the Rocky saga, bringing back the aging fighter synonymous with the series and introducing the offspring of another beloved character. No surprises there. But what is less expected is how well the feature succeeds in doing all three. That, and just how rousing the drama proves, both as the next instalment in a series and as a movie in its own right. Cast 2006's lacklustre Rocky Balboa from your mind: this is a continuation that fans can warm to, as can those without four decades of fondness for the franchise. That, on its own, is no easy feat. As the last jump back into Sylvester Stallone's knockabout world confirmed, revisiting the Italian Stallion in the years since the 1976 original can be rather hit-and-miss. Enter director Ryan Coogler and leading man Michael B. Jordan to show that the sixth sequel/spinoff can be the charm. The Fruitvale Station duo reteams to bring the writer-director's passion project to fruition, and in doing so gift the young actor with another knockout part. Jordan plays Adonis "Donnie" Johnson, a boxing wannabe with a pedigree he's struggling with. Though his early years were spent in foster care and juvenile detention, he's the illegitimate son of famed fighter Apollo Creed — and while he shares the same sporting ambitions, he wants to make it on his own terms. Heading from Los Angeles to Philadelphia, he seeks out his dad's repeated opponent turned pal Rocky (Stallone), eventually convincing him to become his trainer, and tries to follow in his father's footsteps. Cue the story of an underdog scrapping his way to the top despite several setbacks, more than a few montages and inspirational speeches, some high stakes and blistering bouts, plus an on-again, off-again relationship between Adonis and his neighbour, aspiring singer Bianca (Tessa Thompson), as well as a surrogate father-son bond blossoming with Rocky. Little happens in Creed that isn't easily foreseen. And yet the film doesn't feel like another formulaic follow-up. In fact, just as it sprinkles the familiar score from the original offering throughout its soundtrack and references events from movies gone by, Creed finds the right balance between looking backwards and starting a new future. Combining sincere nostalgia with a clear path forward, the feature achieves exactly what its protagonist is aiming for as he endeavours to do justice to his predecessor while making his own way. Coogler's direction – emphasizing the grit of the streets and the urgency of the ring, and shooting every fight close and tight for maximum tension – is certainly influential. His indie stylings are an ideal fit for the material, and for enlivening a genre seen so many times before that much of its content has become cliched. And yet, his technique often takes second place to the stars that grace the screen. That's not a criticism of Coogler — it's just a reflection of how engaging both Jordan and Stallone prove. The former once again demonstrates his charisma, complexity and versatility, while the latter benefits from stepping away from the main fray, and the rapport they share is moving. With mentor-protégé tales common movie fodder, it's rare for such an on-screen pairing to really hit the emotional marks. Crucially, Creed isn't a comeback for Stallone, but a film that keeps him connected to the iconic series he started. It plays upon his ambling acting strengths and passes on the baton to a worthy successor. And yes, it both leaves and lives up to a legacy.
A dark Shakespearean crime drama, 2010's Animal Kingdom was one of the most resounding Australian films in years. Not only did it launch the international careers of Ben Mendelsohn and Jacki Weaver, it also heralded the arrival of writer-director David Michôd, a filmmaker whose tightly controlled aesthetic suggested even greater things to come. His sophomore effort is The Rover, a barebones narrative that mirrors his debut in both its technical precision and its nihilistic tone. What's missing, however, is a similarly compelling set of characters. Without them, a pervasive sense of bleakness soon swallows the movie whole. Based on an idea by Michôd and actor Joel Edgerton, the film takes place across desolate stretches of the outback, a decade after Western society has collapsed. While drinking alone in a gloomy roadside bar, a heavily bearded Guy Pearce sees three gun-toting criminals steal his car. The rest of the movie follows his efforts to get the car back. Michôd would have known from the very first word that comparisons to Mad Max were inevitable. Despite this, The Rover is not an action flick. Methodically paced and dripping with menace, the film actually has more in common with something like Ted Kotcheff's Wake in Fright, which likewise capitalised on the intensity of its outback setting. Meticulous technique — including razor-sharp editing, oppressive sound design, a brooding score and dispassionate cinematography — sets audience members on edge. The violence, when it comes, is sudden, shocking and unglamorous. Yet beneath the craft, the film feels decidedly hollow. Pearce is a great actor, but there's only so much variance he can bring to such a single-minded protagonist. Robert Pattinson, meanwhile, gives a woefully misjudged performance as Pearce's unlikely travelling companion, the slow-witted brother of one of the thieves Pearce is trying to track down. His constant twitching and incomprehensible Southern drawl seem like the efforts of an actor trying desperately to play against type. Good on him for trying, but the fact is it just doesn't work. So the film descends into meaninglessness and futility. Michôd's future world is bereft of human compassion — grandmothers pimp their grandkids, people hunt dogs for food, and our protagonist commits murder without a moment's hesitation. By the time the movie ends, you're left broken and exhausted. And while it takes a lot of skill to achieve that, it never really feels like it was worth it.
UPDATE, November 13, 2020: The Front Runner is available to stream via SBS On Demand, Google Play, YouTube Movies and Prime Video. A true tale of scandal on the election trail, The Front Runner is inspired by events from three decades ago. The book that it's based on — non-fiction tome All the Truth Is Out: The Week Politics Went Tabloid — was published in 2014, while columnist-turned-author Mat Bai started the ball rolling with a profile in 2003. And yet, this is a film blatantly begging to be made in the current political climate. Adultery, cover ups, a media firestorm, and debates about the ethics of news coverage and what's even newsworthy all fill the movie's frames. Sound familiar? When Gary Hart's (Hugh Jackman) private life makes the headlines, with a young woman (Sara Paxton) who isn't his wife (Vera Farmiga) seen leaving his Washington DC townhouse, the US politician's response is simple. He might be the Democratic party's leading contender for the 1988 presidential nomination, but he believes that what happens behind closed doors is nobody's business. He's the young, handsome, idealistic hotshot with a real chance of mobilising the masses — the beloved midwestern senator with real policies and real momentum. He's about as far away as you can get from sitting American president Ronald Reagan and likely Republican candidate George HW Bush, and he's certain that his professional deeds matter more to voters than his personal peccadillos. Call Hart naive, call him optimistic or call his judgement incredibly poor; when first asked about his alleged womanising ways, he even dares one Washington Post reporter (Mamoudou Athie) to follow him around. Whichever description you choose, there's one thing that you can definitely call Hart: caught in interesting times. In the thick of the 80s, JFK's rumoured affairs were old news, Bill Clinton's impeachment was still to come, and everything that Donald Trump has brought to the presidency couldn't have been dreamed up. Forced to fight for his political life as stories keep circulating and reporters keep chasing, Hart's situation proves a time capsule of sorts. Unfaithful politicians are splashed across the news with frequency today, but we no longer live in a world where a highly publicised extramarital affair (or worse) precludes someone from becoming America's commander-in-chief. Is that the right outcome or the wrong one? Without overstating the parallels between then and now, The Front Runner successfully shows just how much has changed. That said, the movie also leans heavily on Hart's chief rebuttal to his attackers — that exposing his indiscretions cheapens political discourse. Initially shot and packaged with jaunty, fast-paced flair reminiscent of Aaron Sorkin's political dramas, or of writer-director Jason Reitman's own Thank You For Smoking and Up In The Air, the film doesn't always find a comfortable position. It wants viewers to condemn the current status quo, feel for Hart, experience the deflating effect the controversy has on his loyal staffers, and realise that, without this incident, history could've been very, very different. They're not always compatible ideas, even in a movie that knows how complicated the scenario is. More than that, they're not always given the depth they need by Reitman, Bai and Jay Carson's screenplay. Never lacking in complexity is Jackman, whose performance is charismatic without being smooth and serious without being sombre. Hart isn't the greatest showman, but rather a great believer in the power of elected office — and someone who believes he should get his chance to ascend to the top job. It's the kind of layered portrayal that hasn't featured on Jackman's resume that often of late. Beyond its leading man, however, The Front Runner is well-served by its entire cast. Paxton is never simply the stereotypical other woman, and nor is Farmiga just the bland, dutiful wife. JK Simmons, alongside Paranormal Activity alum Molly Ephraim, convincingly rides the ups and downs that come with working for the senator. But, worlds away from his work in Patti Cake$ and The Get Down, it's Athie who threatens to steal the show. Playing a young journalist trying to do what's right even when he's told that it's wrong, the actor provides the film's conflicted centre. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-R-vFH_G0V4
Another week, another film, another hero clad in spandex. For the past decade and a half, Hollywood has churned out an unrelenting stream of superhero movies. Some, like Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight or Joss Whedon's first Avengers film, manage to rise above the pack. Others, like the laughably self-important Man of Steel or the disastrous new Fantastic Four, scrape the bottom of the barrel. The rest, for the most part, are merely okay. More to the point, almost all of them stick to the same predictable playbook in which everything is taken way, way too seriously. That's where Deadpool promises to be different. This long awaited film about the popular Marvel antihero arrives in cinemas on the back of an absolutely ingenious marketing campaign, one that stresses to punters unfamiliar with the character that he is anything but your typical superhero. Decked out in red, wielding katanas and a big ass gun, Deadpool swears, cracks jokes and murders his enemies with glee. Not only that, but he knows he's in a movie, and frequently delivers his X-rated quips directly to the camera. Most importantly, he's entertaining. He doesn't mope about his dead parents, or whinge about how great power means great responsibility. In an era of increasingly reluctant and angst-riddled crusaders, he makes being a superhero look fun. That's not to say that director Tim Miller has reinvented the wheel. The same familiar narrative formula is still very much at play here, even if the specifics are different. Wade Wilson (Ryan Reynolds) is a low-level mercenary whose life with his prostitute girlfriend Vanessa (Morena Baccarin) seems doomed after he is diagnosed with terminal cancer. A lifeline comes in the form of an offer from a shady organisation, who promise to make Wilson indestructible. Unfortunately, the process also leaves him horribly disfigured, looking roughly akin to – in his own words – "a testicle with teeth." And when the people behind his transformation inevitably betray him, he's left with no choice but to become the one thing he never thought he'd be: a hero. So yeah, Deadpool isn't exactly the second coming of the genre. Luckily, it's also so relentlessly enjoyable that its flaws are easy to forgive. The script, by Zombieland co-writers Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick, is absolutely brimming with knowing, foul-mouthed humour – indeed, this is much more a rude, crude, fourth-wall breaking comedy than it is a standard action film. There are dick jokes and pop-culture gags aplenty, but the biggest laughs come from references to Deadpool's fellow superheroes. When a couple of ancillary X-Men try and convince Deadpool to meet with Professor X, he asks whether they mean James McAvoy or Patrick Stewart. The writers also lay mercilessly into the recent Green Lantern movie, which of course starred none other than their own film's leading man. Frankly, it's hard to fathom that Reynolds ever wore another costume, since it feels like Deadpool is the role he was born to play. His performance is the other big reason the movie works as well as it does, his irreverent, snark-laden line delivery helping keep us on side with a protagonist whose behaviour is totally reprehensible. Not that you'd want him any other way. Hell, we'll take this nutcase over that bland boy scout Superman any day of the week. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIM1HydF9UA
Every gig should be its own distinctive experience, even if a band is hitting city after city on a massive national or international tour. But there's unique concerts and then there's Sigur Rós' latest run of shows. While there's nothing quite like seeing the Icelandic band live in general, they'll be doing something different on their next trip to Australia: taking to the stage with live orchestras. Jónsi Birgisson, Georg Hólm and Kjartan Sveinsson will play with the Brisbane Philharmonic Orchestra when Sigur Rós' current orchestral tour makes its way to the River City. Across the rest of 2024, fans across the US and Nordic countries can catch the group joining forces with a 41-piece orchestra. Then, come Tuesday, May 27 at QPAC Concert Hall, it's Brisbane's turn to witness quite a few new members temporarily join the band. ÁTTA, their 2023 album, will be in the spotlight, as the last time they toured Down Under was in 2022, before it was released — and it was was recorded with arrangements featuring a 32-piece orchestra. [caption id="attachment_974240" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Kathryn Parson Photography via Flickr.[/caption] Fans can expect tracks from their 1997 debut Von onwards, however, spanning tunes from fellow records Ágætis byrjun, ( ), Takk..., Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust, Valtari and Kveikur. That last — and soldout — trip this way was part of the group's first tour in five years, but clearly they haven't left the same gap go by between then and their next tour. Sigur Rós first started doing the rounds with an orchestra in 2023, playing a limited number of gigs, before expanding the experience further. Next stop: Australia. [caption id="attachment_974235" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Alive87 via Wikimedia Commons.[/caption] Top image: Goatling via Flickr.
If video game cutscenes ever made the leap to cinema, Warcraft: The Beginning would be the end result. Fashioning a film from the interactive fantasy franchise, the long-awaited movie version functions in much the same way: advancing a narrative, fleshing out characters, and delving into material that can't always be gleaned during gameplay. That's the good news. The bad news is that it also looks and feels the part. That's not an indictment of the movie's impressive special effects, but a reflection of the unfulfilling way the feature seems like it was pieced together from standard in-game sequences rather than specifically made for the cinema. Directed by Duncan Jones (Moon, Source Code), and co-written by the filmmaker with Charles Leavitt (In the Heart of the Sea), Warcraft: The Beginning takes viewers to the realms of Draenor and Azeroth. The former, the home of the orcs, is dying, with warlock Gul'dan (Daniel Wu) using a magical force called the fel to transport his people to the latter. Durotan (Toby Kebbell), the leader of one of the orc clans, is wary of this plan, but also has his pregnant mate Draka (Anna Galvin) to worry about. Upon their arrival, they're hardly greeted with a warm welcome by Azeroth's suspicious human inhabitants — including King Llane Wrynn (Dominic Cooper), knight Anduin Lothar (Travis Fimmel), mystic Medivh (Ben Foster) and aspiring magi Khadgar (Ben Schnetzer) — although the orcs' penchant for warmongering doesn't help things either. A clash between orc and mans ensues, and at this point, audiences could be forgiven for wishing that the Lord of the Rings and Hobbit films didn't exist, or that their enormous popularity hadn't cemented the template for the action-fantasy genre. Charged with the difficult task of bringing a multi-player game to the big screen, Warcraft: The Beginning takes far too many cues from Middle Earth. The film might gather its details from the game series that dates back to 1994 in various forms, but in turning them into a feature, it's content to dwell in generic territory. Simply put, you've seen this stuff before. A derivative game-to-film adaptation isn't the same as a bad one, though it does struggle to maintain interest. The need to set up potential sequels is made clear in the movie's title; however as the battles stop seeming distinctive, and the characters chart familiar paths, it makes much of the feature feel like filler. Jones knows how to handle action and exposition, and convey a strong sense of grandeur as well, but remains trapped by his world-building mission and the need to stick to the formula. Try as they might in both live-action and motion-captured performances, the cast are placed in a similar predicament, particularly Paula Patton as half-orc, half-human outcast Garona, who is literally caught in the middle. When the best a movie based on a computer game can offer is CGI wizardry, something has obviously gone awry. Once fans have had their fill of clocking knowing references, even they'll likely wish they were just playing the game instead. And for everyone else — don't expected to be recruited to the horde just yet.
In The Post, journalists strive to source, confirm and publish reports about a government cover-up spanning several decades. In America's highest office, and among the connected and influential, the powers-that-be attempt to silence the story. It's a true tale, and one that couldn't be more relevant today. At the moment, if the media tried to reveal something as significant as the Pentagon Papers — which detailed the lies four consecutive US administrations told the public about the country's involvement in the Vietnam war — we all know what would happen. Tweets would fly, thick, fast, and probably misspelled. "Fake news!" they'd scream, over and over again. If you're not familiar with the real-life scandal that rocked Washington in the early 1970s, it all starts with marine turned military analyst Daniel Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys) and a treasure trove of leaked classified documents. Once The Washington Post editor Ben Bradlee (Tom Hanks) begins to suspect that their rivals at The New York Times have a big scoop in the works, the two newspapers battle it out to piece together the story. The Nixon administration pushes back, placing publisher Katharine Graham (Meryl Streep) under considerable pressure to kill their investigation. While the government accuses the press of violating espionage laws and causing irreparable damage to American security, the journalists stand by their belief in the First Amendment as well as the importance of speaking truth to power. Complicating matters further is the paper's impending stock offering, with the board and investors nervous about possible controversy. There's perhaps never been a better time to make a movie about an attack on the freedom of the press, or the need for the media to scrutinise the workings of the country's leaders. That feeling is inescapable while watching The Post, to the point that many of its rousing speeches could easily be uttered today. That said, director Steven Spielberg dedicates the bulk of the film's time to the procedural business of reporters doing what they do: chasing leads, combing through documents, butting up against deadlines, and more. Tracking their hard work, as well as the difficult decisions and fierce opposition that comes with it, the drama is solid, smart and polished. Working together for the first time in their long and illustrious careers, the same can be said of the movie's two stars. The Post is an ensemble effort, with Bob Odenkirk, Carrie Coon, Tracy Letts and Sarah Paulson all fantastic in pivotal parts. But the central performances of Hanks and Streep are particularly instrumental in the film's hard-earned thrills. Hanks ensures Bradlee's hard-nosed determination shines through, while Streep brings quiet courage to a trickier and ultimately more resonant role. Among The Post's many timely subjects, the dismissive treatment Graham endured as the first female publisher of a major American paper does not escape attention. Nor does her fortitude in fighting back. With Spielberg in the director's chair, working with a script by first-timer Liz Hannah and Spotlight Oscar-winner Josh Singer, none of the above should be surprising. Increasingly at home making serious-minded dramas as the decades go by — see Lincoln and Bridge of Spies in recent years — the filmmaker's handling of tone and pace suits the story and subject matter perfectly. With frames filled with period detail and steely hues (the picture was shot by his now 16-time cinematographer Janusz Kaminski), Spielberg favours an old-fashioned, no-nonsense approach that nonetheless proves thoroughly rousing. And really, how better to handle a movie like this. This tale might be history, but these days it feels like anything but. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N1VcCv9JOPQ
When a movie character complains about the flimsiness and predictability of the world, it helps if the film they're in doesn't share the same traits. The character in question is Margo Roth Spiegelman (Cara Delevingne), while the feature is Paper Towns. She's the resident high school cool girl that the boy across the road, Quentin — or Q (Nat Wolff) — has spent years pining over. She's also the central mystery in the latest page-to-screen adaptation based on the work of novelist John Green. Those with a memory for melancholy teen fare might remember the last Green-penned effort to reach cinemas: cancer romance The Fault in Our Stars. Swap illness for aloofness, and a visit to Europe with a drive to upstate New York, and you know the kind of earnest drama you're in for. The same writers bring both films to fruition, and Wolff also features in each — then as the sidekick, now as the star. Here, his Q fondly remembers his younger days palling around with Margot before they grew up and into different cliques, only to feverishly relive them after she climbs through his bedroom window seeking his help for a revenge-fuelled adventure. The morning after, still buzzed from pranking Margot's cheating ex-boyfriend and the friends who knew about his philandering ways, Q thinks his life will change — only to find that the object of his affections has gone missing instead. Cue an attempt to track Margot down sparked by a series of clues she has left behind, with the smitten Q certain that they're signs she wants him to do just that. And cue a film that wears not just its heart on its sleeve, but its fantasies about halcyon high school days where important life lessons are learned. You've seen and heard them all before: try new things, follow your dreams, be yourself, cool kids have problems too, don't pin all your hopes of your teenage crush. The list goes on. Paper Towns barely gives anyone older than 18 a passing glance. Yet as it cycles through the usual house party, road trip and prom moments, it feels more like the calculated, nostalgic product of adults looking backwards than an authentic reflection of youth. That's the territory Green plays in — and while director Jake Schreier cultivated genuine emotion in his previous effort, Robot and Frank, just as writers Scott Neustadter and Michael H. Weber did in The Spectacular Now, the author's formula here is clearly at work. Hence the insubstantial and obvious narrative, the hardly memorable characters, and the other cookie-cutter elements — warm tones, a wistful soundtrack and standard performances included. An amalgam of everything those remembering their adolescence wish to recall, as well as everything those going currently through it wish to experience, Paper Towns just wants to be pleasant and neat. And that's what it achieves — however at-odds with its underlying "don't get boxed in" mantra that may be.
Swan Lake is one of those ballets you always hear about but most probably never get around to seeing. Fret no more as QPAC and the Queensland Ballet are bringing the classic tale to life once more, giving you a prime opportunity. After Black Swan came out, I’m sure ballet studios worldwide received a surge in popularity as everyone wanted to be the next Natalie Portman. Start your training with the ballet that drove her (character) crazy! Who knows what could happen? (Actually, I’m almost 99% certain that no one will die at this performance). For this particular interpretation, Francois Klaus has reinterpreted the storyline whilst maintaining all the elegant dances and choreography from the original, featuring the beautiful sounds of the Queensland Symphony Orchestra. So even if you have seen the performance before, this will be something new for you as well.
It has been three years since one of Brisbane's busiest foodie laneways decided to start celebrating its awesomeness — and, for the fourth time, Fish Lane Festival is back. Come midday on Saturday, May 11, the stretch of road will enter party mode for ten hours of fun of the eating, drinking, dancing and just generally hanging out kind. Indeed, prepare to make both a day and a night of it. There'll certainly be plenty of spaces tempting you to stay for as long as possible, with the 2019 fest spanning all the way up to Hope Street. On the agenda are multiple stages of local live music and DJs — with a new one added this year — plus multiple pop-up bars serving up boozy tipples. Food-wise, everywhere from The Fox to Grassfed to 31 Degrees to Gelato Messina is adding their tasty fare to the spread, and Chu the Phat, Five Sisters, Billykart, Ol' School, Birds Nest and Julius Pizzeria as well. Delicious delights on offer include karaage hot dogs, steamed duck buns, cheeseburgers and last year's huge hit, vegan nuggets. For dessert, think honey puffs, salted caramel brownies and Messina's gelato s'mores. The music lineup is yet to be announced, but, even with all of the above, entry is free. Updated March 21.
UPDATE, January 15, 2021: Ride Your Wave is available to stream via Google Play, YouTube Movies, iTunes and Amazon Video. In the type of scene familiar from many a film, 19-year-old Hinako (voiced by Rina Kawaei) frolics around a seaside spot with her boyfriend Minato (Ryota Katayose). In the scenic Japanese city of Chiba, the pair chat, laugh, stroll and sightsee, as plenty of couples have in similar situations. Actually, this duo does so twice. The first time plays out exactly as everyone expects but, occurring well into Ride Your Wave, the lovestruck duo's repeat romantic rendezvous comes with a twist. In the kind of image that can only really be brought to the screen via animation, Hinako isn't spending time with Minato in the flesh the second time around — instead, she's dragging around an inflatable porpoise filled with water that, when she hums the pair's favourite song, manifests her boyfriend's spirit from beyond the grave. Basically, Hinako is now dating a ghost in the guise of a blow-up aquatic mammal — a spectre that can appear in anything else that's wet, such as a glass of water and even a toilet bowl, too. It's a heartfelt yet clearly strange sight, and it's an image that filmmaker Masaaki Yuasa builds his whole sweet, sensitive and charming movie around. Already known for offbeat and distinctive animated efforts such as Night Is Short, Walk on Girl and Lu Over the Wall, the Japanese director blends his fondness for weirdness with a perceptive exploration of love and loss that belongs in the same company as huge recent global hits Your Name and Weathering with You. As brought to life, vocally, by former Japanese pop idol Kawaei and fellow local pop star Katayose (whose boy band, Generations from Exile Tribe, provides the film's pivotal — and extremely catchy — tune), Hinako and Minato's story begins much earlier. Initially, she's a surf-obsessed newcomer arriving in town to study oceanography, while he's a dutiful local firefighter. They cross paths on several occasions — she frequently hits the waves near his fire station, as he just-as-frequently notices — but they don't properly connect until Minato comes to Hinako's rescue when her apartment building is set ablaze. And, if tragedy didn't strike, perhaps they would've simply lived happily ever after. As Ride Your Wave astutely realises, though, those kinds of blissful, uncomplicated tales aren't the norm for everyone. Japan's plethora of big-screen animated gems have always received ample praise for their visual prowess; given how gorgeous and glorious everything from Studio Ghibli's greats to Yuasa's own filmic back catalogue looks, that's understandable. But movies such as Ride Your Wave don't surf their way into viewers' hearts based solely on eye-popping imagery alone. At their best, these films ripple with emotional depth and resonance — and while there's much about Ride Your Wave that threatens to veer into cheesiness at times, it remains an insightful, moving and charming example of the genre. On the surface, it might appear to be just another supernatural teen romance; however from the moment that Hinako is forced to face her future alone, this is a thoughtful, delicate and observant portrait of a woman struggling with one of the worst things that can happen. As whimsical as it might sometimes seem — and as it definitely sounds on paper — there's a rich vein of melancholy in Hinako's escapades with Minato's spirit. As she continues to hold onto him in any way she can, Yuasa and screenwriter Reiko Yoshida (A Silent Voice, Okko's Inn) show a raw and profound understanding of grief, its all-encompassing impact and the reality that, to those in mourning, absolutely everything reminds them of the person they're missing. Everyone who has lost someone has returned to places they once visited together and seen memories of happier times linger at every corner. Everyone in the same position has felt their heart skip a beat when a significant song plays, too. As well as being cute and quirky, the literal inflatable porpoise in Ride Your Wave's frames gives these common and relatable experiences a physical dimension. Don't go expecting this film to receive a live-action remake any time soon, of course, not that any animated movie ever needs one. Disney might currently be obsessed with turning its cartoon hits into flesh and blood (or photorealistic approximations), but Japan's animators are well aware that their chosen medium is far more expressive — especially when it comes to matters of the heart. There's a rhythm, flow and glow to Ride Your Wave that perfectly captures its protagonist's complicated situation, and that simply wouldn't translate to any other format. There's also the feeling that, through its seemingly fanciful narrative gimmick, Ride Your Wave tackles tough emotional terrain with unflinching, heart-swelling honesty. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RMB7SpEvxOI Image: ©Ride Your Wave Film Partners.
Fast cars, pulse-pounding action and plot holes bigger than the veins in Dwayne Johnson’s biceps: the seventh entry in the Fast and/or Furious franchise delivers everything fans have come to expect. And yes, to be clear, we mean that as a compliment. In an age where most Hollywood blockbusters do everything they can to seem dark and gritty, this souped-up seven-part soap opera drives straight in the other direction, delivering delightfully silly, self-aware thrills at every possible turn. The most over-the-top film in the franchise so far, Fast & Furious 7 doesn’t just jump the shark; it sails over the shark’s head at 245mph, in a $3.5 million Lykan Hypersport, in slow motion, while half a dozen strippers dance to a Wiz Khalifa song playing in the background. The 'plot' of the film sees Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) and his hetero life partner Brian O’Connor (Paul Walker) back on the streets of Los Angeles after earning a pardon for six movies’ worth of crimes. Unfortunately for them, their newfound tranquillity is short-lived, as Deckard Shaw (Jason Statham playing the same character he always does, only evil) shows up to avenge his brother Luke, aka the bad guy from Fast & Furious 6. Dom and Brian’s only option is to team up with Agent Frank Petty (franchise newbie Kurt Russell), who promises to help them deal with Shaw in exchange for rescuing a computer hacker (Nathalie Emmanuel) from a group of international terrorists. Of course, in order to manage such a mission, they’ll need their regular crew, including Letty (Michelle Rodriguez), Roman (Tyrese Gibson) and Tej (Chris ‘Ludacris’ Bridges). Think of them as being kind of like the Avengers, only more racially diverse, and marginally less bound by the laws of physics or common sense. If they’ve got time, they might even be able to solve the mystery of who keeps stealing the sleeves off Vin Diesel’s shirts. Australian director James Wan takes over from four-time franchise helmsman Justin Lin, and manages to capture the film’s many, many action scenes with similarly explosive aplomb. Silliness aside, one of the great things about this series is how it opts for actual stunt-work and stunt driving instead of just relying on digital effects. That said, we kind of suspect the scene in which a car is driven out the side of a skyscraper and through the side of another probably benefited from a little bit of computer-generated magic. To say that that sequence isn’t even the most ridiculous thing about Fast & Furious 7 should really drive home just how absurd this movie is. To their credit though, the cast still play it 100% straight, and in doing so have managed to get this franchise to that sweet spot where even its legitimately terrible moments — including maybe the most blatant moment of product placement in the history of modern cinema — still manage to be kind of entertaining. Well, almost. We’ve gotta say that Wan’s use of the Michael Bay ass-cam on any and all female extras gets creepy pretty fast. It doesn’t help that the once gender-balanced cast of heroes has basically been reduced to a bunch of bros plus Michelle Rodriguez. Definitely something they should correct in Fast & Furious 8. Apparently Helen Mirren has already put her hand up to play the villain. Now that would be amazing.
Melissa McCarthy is now three-for-three in collaborations with Paul Feig. The actor-director team chase down Bridesmaids and The Heat with a goofy espionage comedy that serves as a showreel for their respective talents. In Feig’s case, that means cementing his reputation as one of Hollywood’s most rock-solid comic-directors, extracting hilarious turns from a more-than-willing cast while demonstrating a surprising amount of confidence with action scenes, which bodes well for his Ghostbusters sequel next year. For McCarthy, it means delivering one of the best performances of her career, nailing both the verbal and physical comedy while steering almost entirely clear of lazy jokes about her gender or her size. McCarthy stars as analyst Susan Cooper, a desk jockey working in the CIA basement funnelling instructions via an earpiece to operatives around the world. Her primary charge, and the subject of her unrequited affections, is the revoltingly narcissistic Bond-wannabe Agent Bradley Fine (Jude Law). But things suddenly change after Fine is gunned down by a devious arms heiress (Rose Byrne), who has somehow gained access to the identity of every active spy. With their best assets compromised, the agency has no choice but to throw the untested Cooper into the field. It’s a pretty standard comedic premise, in a similar vein to other recent spy spoofs such as Johnny English and Get Smart — the one major difference being that Cooper is actually fairly good at her new job. Feig, who wrote the film as well as directing, pokes fun at all the typical spy movie cliches, from the megalomaniacal villain all the way down to the gadgets, here disguised as everyday items such as fungal cream and laxatives. For the most part the humour is fairly broad and sweary — this is, after all, the same director who had McCarthy shit in a sink. Still, as with Feig’s previous films, the material is elevated considerably by the performances. After proving the MVP in both Bridesmaids and Bad Neighbours, Rose Byrne could well consider giving up dramatic roles altogether. Her villainous turn here is a delightful caricature of upper-crust snobbery, and many of the film’s best scenes are the ones that she and McCarthy share. Law is likewise wonderfully hammy as Fine, while Jason Statham sends up his typical screen persona as a 'rogue' CIA agent a little too convinced of his own brilliance. But it’s McCarthy who’s the real hero here, throwing herself into every scene with absolute commitment. Together, she and Feig not only deliver big laughs but also manage to skewer our expectations of what someone who looks like her is capable of. Yes, there are plenty of jokes at Cooper’s expense, but more often than not they’re the result of people underestimating her. As it turns out, that’s a pretty big mistake.
Rarely has a film more perfectly encapsulated the notion of so close, yet so far. Directed by Neil Marshall, whose previous credits include the impressive horror flick The Descent and some major episodes of Game Of Thrones, Hellboy is an absolute mess of a thing, despite boasting a terrific cast, memorable set pieces, impressive CGI and one of the more intriguing and inventive protagonists in recent comic book history. Hellboy, of course, already has two films in his honour, both of them written and directed by Mr Monster himself: Guillermo del Toro. The question that loomed large over this 2019 version, then, was whether it sought to be a rebooted origin story or a semi-continuation of the pre-existing franchise. The schizophrenic patchwork of a story we end up with suggests the studio simply couldn't decide. Timelines leap from the Arthurian legend to modern day to WWII to the 80s, usually for the purpose of dumping massive loads of exposition. The entire film feels rushed and discordant; a fever dream of fight scenes and plotlines that neither link to what came prior nor have much relevance to what follows. In the lead, Stranger Things star David Harbour does his darndest to breathe life into what little script there is, imbuing his Hellboy with an admirable level of angst, sarcasm and unwieldy brawn. Credit, too, to the movie's makeup team, who've managed to wholly transform Harbour into a hulking creature from the underworld despite little to no CGI at play. Opposite him, Milla Jovovich puts in the film's most understated yet compelling performance as Nimue the Blood Queen, whose equal rights for monsters mantra offers a tantalisingly defensible motivation for her murderous ways. Sadly, Hellboy gives little time to ideas, opting instead for as many gory deaths, clanger one-liners and f-bombs that it can squeeze in. And on the gore front, Hellboy certainly makes full use of its R-rating, particularly in the film's final stages when Hell's assortment of nightmarish demons begin crushing, skewering and skinning the hapless inhabitants of London. The demons themselves are spectacularly imagined, as is the infamous Baba Yaga, the Slavic witch with an appetite for small children. Her scene with Hellboy is beautifully designed, genuinely well-written, and appropriately grotesque. But even then, there's one major ingredient missing: terror. It's a phenomenon repeated multiple times throughout the film, and one that's not easily diagnosed. Scenes that should be scary simply aren't, just as jokes that should be funny don't even come close. If you imagine the film as a piece of music, the levels are all out — as if the sound mixer dialled everything up that should be down, and vice versa. Which brings us back to so close, yet so far. Whatever forces were at play to screw this up, the fact remains the pieces were there to produce something great. Hellboy could have been any number of films: a comic book horror movie with genuine scares, a comedy action flick or even a compelling Maleficent-esque drama about misunderstood heroes and villains vying for their right to a place on this earth. Instead, it's an embarrassment. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dt5g5_1cKVk
Nearly two decades have passed since a pair of Melbourne talents made a low-budget horror flick that became a franchise-starting smash, sparking their Hollywood careers. Thanks to Saw, James Wan and Leigh Whannell experienced every aspiring filmmaker's absolute fantasy — a dream they're still living now, albeit increasingly on separate paths. Wan's latest, Malignant, is firmly grounded in those horror roots, however. Most of the Insidious and The Conjuring director's resume has been, aside from recent action-blockbuster detours to Fast and Furious 7, Aquaman and the latter's upcoming sequel. With Malignant, though, he shows how strongly he remains on the same page as his former collaborator. Anyone who's seen Whannell's excellent Upgrade and The Invisible Man will spot the parallels, in fact, even if Malignant is the far schlockier of the three. Malignant is also an exercise in patience, because plenty about its first half takes its time — and, when that's the case, the audience feels every drawn-out second. But after Wan shifts from slow setup mode to embracing quite the outrageous and entertainingly handled twist, his film swiftly becomes a devilish delight. Heavily indebted to the 70s-era works of giallo master Dario Argento, David Cronenberg's body-horror greats and 80s scary movies in general, Malignant uses its influences as fuel for big-swinging, batshit-level outlandishness. Most flicks can't segue from a slog to a B-movie gem. Most films can't be saved by going so berserk, either. Wan's tenth stint behind the lens can and does, and leaves a limb-thrashing, blood-splattering, gleefully chaotic imprint. Perhaps it's a case of like name, like approach; tumours can grow gradually, then make their havoc felt. Regardless, it doesn't take long within Malignant for Dr Florence Weaver (Jacqueline McKenzie, Miss Fisher and the Crypt of Tears) to proclaim that "it's time to cut out the cancer" while treating a locked-up patient in the film's 1992-set prologue. This is a horror movie, so that whole event doesn't turn out well, naturally. Jump forward a few decades, and the feature's focus is now Seattle resident Madison Mitchell (Annabelle Wallis, Boss Level), who is hoping to carry her latest pregnancy with her abusive husband to term. But then his violent temper erupts again, she receives a head injury, and childhood memories start mixing with visions of gruesome killings linked to Dr Weaver's eerie hospital — visions that Madison sees as the murders occur. Bearing telepathic witness to horrific deaths is an intriguing concept, although hardly a new one — and, that aforementioned first scene aside, it's also the most interesting part of Malignant's opening half. Wan and screenwriter Akela Cooper (Grimm, The 100) play it all straight and obvious, including when the cops (Containment's George Young and Songbird's Michole Briana White) are skeptical about Madison's claims. That leaves only her younger sister Sydney (Maddie Hasson, Mr Mercedes) believing what's going on, and leaves the movie a plodding psychological-meets-supernatural thriller predicated upon routinely predictable but improbable character decisions. It makes the second half feel positively electrifying in contrast, when the big shift in tone comes, but also makes viewers wonder what might've been if that lurid look and kinetic feel had been present the whole way through. When the change arrives — with exactly why and how clearly one of those horror-movie details best discovered by watching — Malignant proves deliriously riveting. It sports a creepy yet slinky vibe, as well as a surging and hypnotic sense of physicality, all attuned to an inventive revelation that's all its own. The script's huge surprise isn't actually hard to pick, but Wan's execution is masterful and mesmerising. Here, the film becomes gloriously slick and pulpy, instead of relying upon the usual gradual zoom-in shots or sticking with an almost-house style (cinematographer Michael Burgess also lensed the Wan-produced Annabelle Comes Home, The Curse of the Weeping Woman and The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It). It also evolves from a formulaically jangling score and soundscape to one with nervy purpose, embraces the kind of ridiculousness that'd be downright silly if it wasn't so well done, and adds a fresh sense of spirit to the possession-fuelled side of the genre. Wan has rarely made dull movies, after all, which is another reason that Malignant's long-gestating first section feels like a drag. Indeed, when the sagas his movies have sparked have been at their most generic, he hasn't been at the helm. That said, the fact that Malignant truly needs to grow on its audience, that it's firmly a picture of two halves, and that it starts with the unrestrained, lets it fall away, then sneaks up on the unsuspecting — that really couldn't be more apt once the film spills its narrative secrets. While Malignant isn't a character study by any means, Wallis breathes as much depth as she can into Madison in the movie's flatter half — and, in her third appearance in a Wan-related flick after The Conjuring spinoffs Annabelle and Annabelle: Creation, commits to the lunacy when it hits. Her co-stars have a much more standard time, including acclaimed stuntperson and Quentin Tarantino regular Zoe Bell (Once Upon a Time in Hollywood) in a brief appearance, but this isn't a performance-driven film, either. It also isn't all that scary. Although Malignant can be sublimely off-kilter, that isn't the same eliciting genuine bumps and jumps. Still, when a horror flick shocks, delights and takes viewers on the type of wild and audacious ride that Malignant eventually serves up, it stands out. And yes, like much of Wan's work, it'll undoubtedly spawn a franchise.
In the scene that gives Never Rarely Sometimes Always its name, 17-year-old Autumn (Sidney Flanigan) sits with a counsellor at Planned Parenthood in Brooklyn. The teen hails from Pennsylvania, but has taken the bus east with her cousin Skylar (Talia Ryder) upon discovering that she's pregnant and realising she only really has one option — knowing that her family is unlikely to help, and after her local women's clinic has advised that she should just have the baby. Before she can obtain the New York facility's assistance, however, she is asked questions about her history. The queries broach tough and intimate subjects, but Autumn only needs to answer with one of the words from the movie's moniker. While they're simple and common, those four terms explain much about why a small-town high-schooler is engaging in a practice that's been dubbed 'abortion tourism'. So too does the silence that punctuates her responses and the heartbreaking expression on her face that goes with them. From its opening frames, which sketch out Autumn's everyday life — the taunting peers, the awkward dynamic at home, the attentions of her boss at her after-school supermarket job, and the efforts to be seen by performing at her class concert — Never Rarely Sometimes Always is an intricately observed and stunningly detailed film. Accordingly, when the aforementioned scene arrives, it's the latest potent, compassionate and revealing moment in a movie filled with them. But filmmaker Eliza Hittman refuses to give viewers even the tiniest reprieve here. Autumn can't escape these difficult questions or the entire experience she's dealing with, and the audience is forced into the same situation. Maintaining the feature's unobtrusive, naturalistic, almost documentary-esque style, cinematographer Hélène Louvart (Happy as Lazzaro) doesn't look away, while first-time actor Flanigan pours out an entire lifetime's worth of feeling under the film's unrelenting gaze. When Never Rarely Sometimes Always premiered at this year's Sundance Film Festival back in January, it deservedly won a special jury prize. The next month, it took home Berlinale's Silver Bear, the festival's second most prestigious award. It now reaches screens Down Under as the year approaches its end, and releases less than a week after another movie delivered another immensely uncomfortable moment in a women's clinic. By almost all other metrics and measures, Never Rarely Sometimes Always and Borat Subsequent Moviefilm share little in common. And yet, both understand how reproductive rights, or the lack thereof in many cases and places, say much about America today. Both make viewers stare unflinchingly at that reality, the way that it disadvantages half of the population, and the life-changing effect it can have on teenage girls and their futures. Never Rarely Sometimes Always is a movie about the politicisation of a deeply personal subject, how that has far-reaching repercussions, and what that means on a daily and practical basis. Making clear exactly what Autumn has to go through to even get to that distressing clinic chat, it's a gut-punch of a film on the topic, in fact. Anchored by Flanigan's instinctual, unaffected performance — one of the year's best, in one of its best films — Hittman's feature surveys the vacant storefronts and empty-hearted locals in Autumn's home town, and the way her mother (Sharon Van Etten) is also trapped in her own way. It watches as Skylar steals the cash needed to finance their trip from the register at work, and shows how the more outgoing teen is unwavering in supporting her reserved cousin. It takes the bus to NYC with its characters, stares out the window at a haze of brown landscape, then rides the subway all night when the pair can't afford a place to sleep in the city. The film meets the men, both overt and in the background, who try to grab the girls' attention, and follows the many choices that need to be made to just get to Autumn's appointment. 'Immersive' is an overused descriptor, but in a movie this meticulous, it fits. As should be evident from all of the above, Never Rarely Sometimes Always is something else as well: a tale of struggling youth. And as anyone who has seen 2013's It Felt Like Love and 2017's Beach Rats will know, there are few filmmakers better at spinning such stories than Hittman. When it comes to the teen experience, the American writer/director possesses a near-uncanny ability to navigate tense rivers of emotion through highly specific yet also highly relatable scenarios. Rather than focusing on sexual awakenings like its predecessors, Never Rarely Sometimes Always explores the aftermath of a tryst that's never seen or mentioned, but it still firmly belongs in their company. Why Autumn is pregnant is far less important than how she feels, what she's forced to endure and how the world constantly tries to make her choices for her — including by placing her in a parade of fraught situations that will only ever apply to women. It takes a vast amount of skill to tell this tale in not only a resonant manner, but also a sensitive one. It requires the same talent to ensure that every ebb and flow in Never Rarely Sometimes Always' seemingly straightforward narrative echoes across the screen, illustrating how thematically and emotionally complicated Autumn's plight is — and, by extension, those of the many other teens just like her as well. Doing just that in a movie that lets actions and images speak far louder than its sparse dialogue obviously falls into the same category. Hittman boasts all that skill and talent, and no second or detail is wasted under her guidance. As intimated by its protagonist's name, as taken from the season when the leaves fall, warmth fades and the weather's frostiest period approaches, this is a film about decay, loss and change in multiple ways — and it's as grim and gripping as it is outraged, empathetic and affecting. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OsWV2qTX21k
To watch mother! is to watch Jennifer Lawrence's housewife protagonist, and to see the world through her eyes. As she remains confined to her sprawling country abode, which she's restoring for her poet husband (Javier Bardem), the camera remains largely fixed on either her face or her perspective. When she awakens to an empty bed, the film looks on. When outward politeness masks internal horror following the arrival of an unexpected guest (Ed Harris), viewers switch between witnessing her dismay and sharing her cautious gaze. Her despair heightens further when the man's wife (Michelle Pfeiffer) arrives, followed by their feuding adult sons (Brian and Domhnall Gleeson). And as her sense of anxiety grows, so too does writer-director Darren Aronofsky dive deeper and deeper into the character's inner turmoil. The idea of a woman not quite coping with a change to her home life might sound fairly standard, even old-fashioned. Run-of-the-mill dramas, clichéd comedies and scary flicks have been there and done that before. But mother! doesn't fit into those categories. It's not your usual unwanted visitor tale. Nor is it the Rosemary's Baby riff that's hinted at during its ominous first half. Never one to colour within the filmmaking lines (see Black Swan, Noah and Requiem for a Dream), with mother! Aronofsky serves up his boldest work to date – an ambitious, unnerving, immersive exercise that defies all sense of expectation. From walls that beat like a heart when they're touched, to a freewheeling third act that has to be seen to be believed, mother! is a movie driven by emotions and experiences. Lawrence's unnamed figure reacts to the ups and downs of her existence, and the film responds in turn. As destruction grows, life-changing decisions are made, and one woman's wants and needs are routinely ignored, it's not so much what happens that really matters. Rather, what's crucial is how it all makes the protagonist feel, and how Aronofsky aligns the audience with her mindset. Disgust, fear, frustration and sadness provide the film its palette, layered on top of its distinctive grey-hued colour scheme. Likewise, in a movie without music, the silence of hurt, confusion, neglect, betrayal and disappointment takes the place of a conventional soundtrack. There's no evading anything that Aronofsky throws at his viewers, as he makes it almost impossible to hold onto one's bearings. With the lens trained on Lawrence in close up for more than half of the movie's running time, the sense that you can't grasp onto anything else is clearly by design. She's the fraying canvas that all these swirling sensations converge upon — and, amidst the inescapable chaos, she plays her part to near-perfection And still the question remains: what exactly is mother!? Ultimately, there are many answers. At its most basic level, it's a tense psychological thriller built on domestic and social unease, spiralling into the disorder caused by humanity's worst urges, and touching upon everything from biblical parallels to a savage reflection of our current cutthroat society. It's also an exploration of a woman forced to ponder her place and purpose, with Lawrence's central character saddled with the duties of the caring, supportive, devoted spouse as Bardem's writer gets increasingly enamoured with his own fame. Indeed, in a movie that stays intimate in its focus but universal in its escalating mayhem, Aronofsky applies that line of thinking to all women subjected to the control and demands of men – a thematic fascination seen in many of his earlier films. On top of all of that, mother! is a fever dream of a cinema experience, audacious and utterly unique. Be warned: you'll either love it or hate it. We fall gleefully into the first category. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xXy6aD_m-gk Image: Paramount Pictures
There is never a bad time to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But if the urge strikes while you're actually sitting through a movie — and that sudden desire is sparked by glimpsing scenes from the beloved late 90s and early 00s TV show playing in said movie — that's not a great sign. It's a reality with The New Mutants, however, with the latest entry in the X-Men series letting its audience see Buffy clips on more than one occasion. Never subtly deployed, the snippets link in with the film in a number of ways, because this too is about a ragtag group of teens with supernatural abilities fighting off a range of baddies. In fact, one of the many villains in The New Mutants closely resembles the demons in Buffy's famed dialogue-free episode. In case you don't spot that yourself, the movie serves up scenes from the show that overtly stress the similarities. That's the level this long-delayed franchise flick is operating on: happily derivative, happy to call attention to how derivative it is, and seemingly unconcerned if it leaves its viewers desperately wishing they were watching a television program from more than 20 years ago instead. The 13th film in the X-Men saga, The New Mutants kicks off with a traumatic incident involving Native American 16-year-old Dani Moonstar (Another Life's Blu Hunt). She survives the chaos that destroys her reservation but, when she awakens in a hospital run by Dr Cecilia Reyes (Kill Me Three Times' Alice Braga), she can't remember any of the details. She also isn't permitted to leave. Dani is told she's in a facility for kids just like her and, given the franchise and the film's name, the meaning is clear. Her fellow patients (Emma's Anya Taylor-Joy, Game of Thrones' Maisie Williams, Stranger Things' Charlie Heaton and Trinkets' Henry Zaga) are all well-aware of their extra-special skills, though. Dani doesn't even know what she's capable of — but the fact that her arrival coincides with a series of unsettling altercations that target her new pals gives everyone a few clues. By trapping five teenagers in an eerie, inescapable facility, trying to placate them by promising that they'll soon be able to venture to greener pastures if they just dutifully stomach what they're being subjected to for now, but taunting them with pain and terror while they wait, The New Mutants' entire premise explains exactly where the X-Men franchise currently sits — unintentionally, yet rather astutely. Logan aside, things haven't been great for the series of late. Actually, that's an understatement. Fans have sat through average and awful chapters in the hope that something better will come in the future, only to be met by more of the same (or worse). Yes, Deadpool and its sequel were hits, but squarely of the one-note, overdone, easily tiring variety. And the less remembered about the overblown and underwhelming X-Men: Apocalypse and the instantly forgettable Dark Phoenix, the better. A routine mashup of teen, horror and superhero tropes, The New Mutants doesn't improve the saga's fortunes. To be accurate, though, it doesn't really try to. As directed and co-written by The Fault in our Stars filmmaker Josh Boone with co-scribe Knate Lee, it takes a concept that's equal parts The Breakfast Club and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, adds in angsty adolescents just coming to terms with their hormones and superpowers, and serves up a thoroughly flat and by-the-numbers affair. The film's troubled history is well-documented, with the movie first announced five years ago, cast four years ago and shot three years ago, then pushed back release-wise several times over a period of almost two and a half years — but, now that The New Mutants has finally reached screens after surviving cast member changes, script rewrites, reshoots, the Disney acquisition of Fox and the pandemic, that messy journey to cinemas proves the most interesting thing about it. Endeavouring to mutate the familiar superhero formula in even the slightest way is a worthy aim, of course, which is one of the reasons that the very idea of this film has always stood out. The Marvel characters that The New Mutants is based on date back to the early 80s on the page, and giving them a horror-driven spin has seemed an inspired choice since the movie was first announced. Alas, combining one genre's cliches with another's, as the end result does, hardly makes for entertaining viewing. Indeed, although it's suitably moody in the stock-standard way seen in every creepy psychiatric facility-set flick, The New Mutants is generic to an oppressive extent. Filled with up-and-comers circa 2016, the movie's cast can't particularly help either. Williams tries, and the sensitivity she brings to shapeshifter Rahne Sinclair is noticeable. With Moonstar, she also navigates a romantic subplot that touches upon the film's most thoughtful (albeit still glaringly obvious) point — that the persecution of mutants because they're different mirrors plenty in our reality, including the treatment of queer teens. But, with Taylor-Joy in cartoonish territory as Russian sorceress Illyana Rasputin, and Heaton and Zaga simply hitting their respective characters' one note over and over again, any slivers of depth, substance or just plain interest that The New Mutants does manage to rustle up are short-lived. Also fading fast: any hopes that, 20 years since the first X-Men movie released, this franchise has much life left in it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W_vJhUAOFpI
'ZomRomComs'. That's what you get when you add zombies to romantic comedies. First came Shaun of the Dead, then Zombieland and now Warm Bodies, a delightful Romeo and Juliet meets Frankenstein tale, in that two star-crossed lovers must overcome deep-seeded family prejudices, and that Romeo is a monstrous zombie. The undead are, of course, very much the flavour of the month right now. The Walking Dead is a consistent ratings winner on TV, Sam Raimi's Evil Dead is about to receive a huge Hollywood remake and video games like Dead Rising, Dead Island and Resident Evil continue to dominate the market. Even crazy drug addicts dropping 'bath salts' are opting for some face eating instead of the hoary old break-and-enter routine. For the first time, though, Warm Bodies presents us with a story told from the perspective of the zombie. That zombie is 'R' (Nicholas Hoult), and his Juliet is 'Julie' (played by Australian actress Teresa Palmer). R is just your everyday teenage boy, grappling with your everyday teenage problems: a changing body, crippling social isolation and a tendency to grunt instead of speak. He's also a zombie, but instead of being scary that's mostly just a source of embarrassment. R's charming and self-deprecating narration throughout the film provides a constant source of laughter, particularly with self-aware lines like: "……God we walk slowly!" It's a sublime mix of dark comedy and tender romance, centred on a familiar yet infinitely more appealing relationship than Twilight's Bella and Edward. Warm Bodies also features a killer soundtrack, including classics from Guns N' Roses, Bruce Springsteen, John Waite, Roy Orbison and Bob Dylan. More often than not, the tunes are set against flesh-tearingly gory scenes and the juxtaposition is terrific. The film also features a wonderful supporting cast of John Malkovich, Dave Franco and Rob Corddry, whose performance as a frustrated zombie businessman attracts most of the remaining laughs. Ultimately, Warm Bodies is a clever, unexpected and undeniably entertaining film. The simple plot satisfies on most fronts and Hoult is perfectly cast as the awkward zombie lover, managing to imbue his soulless corpse with an extraordinary amount of heart and compassion. For an adaptation that openly acknowledges its Shakespearean underpinnings, this has somehow still emerged as one of the most original stories of the year. https://youtube.com/watch?v=07s-cNFffDM
The original Assassin's Creed video game was a sublime blend of world design, innovative mechanics and thrilling gameplay. While high-octane action was available, stealth was definitely favoured as the most useful mode of play, and almost always proved the most gripping. The game's story centred upon a technological breakthrough that allowed direct descendants of an ancient assassin's guild to revisit the memories of their ancestors, essentially re-living their darkest and most dangerous endeavours in order to ascertain the location of a long-lost relic. While some time was spent in the modern world, the lion's share was spent inside the machine, allowing the gamer to experience all the exhilaration of exploring and causing chaos in the age of Renaissance Europe. The film adaptation, by contrast, makes the same ill-conceived decision that doomed the third instalment of the Matrix trilogy, in that it spends far too much time in the real world at the expense of everything that made its source material so innovative and engaging. Worse, when inside the 'Animus', the focus is almost entirely on action, meaning there's almost none of the signature stealth assassination that made the gameplay so tense. Overly-coreographed and devoid of tension, these periodic action scenes depict the assassins as mostly ineffective killers who spend most of their time running away from far superior fighters. Perhaps the greatest disappointment, however, is that Assassin's Creed boasts an outstanding cast whose talents are almost entirely wasted. Michael Fassbender, Marion Cotillard, Jeremy Irons, Brendan Gleeson and Charlotte Rampling are all tasked with delivering exposition-heavy drivel and/or cringeworthy clangers like "Welcome…to the Spanish Inquisition". Truly, the only line that earns a non-ironic laugh and feels genuine to both the film and the actor who delivers it comes about halfway through the film, when Fassbender looks around, laughs to himself and mutters: "What the fuck is going on?" You'd be hard-pressed to find a more fitting tagline to slap on the posters. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gfJVoF5ko1Y
On Saturday, July 26, 2025, First Nations artists are firmly in the spotlight at one of Brisbane's must-attend returning gigs. It was back in 2022 that Blak Social debuted Blak Day Out, which has popped up each year since. This time, it's heading to The Princess Theatre for an event that's celebrating Indigenous female talent. In fact, that's the entire lineup at Blak Day Out 2025, starting with Christine Anu not only joining the party but leading it. Thelma Plum and Miss Kaninna are also on the bill, as are Stiff Gins, GLVES, Dameeeela and Kritty — and if you've been before, you'll know that some of these names aren't new to this stage. [caption id="attachment_1006558" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Jason Star[/caption] The focus at the all-ages festival remains the same — and also essential — with Blak Day Out celebrating Indigenous music, culture and community. 2025's run forms part of Open Season, the city's midyear music series, as well as falling into QPAC's Clancestry. Doors open at 5pm — and while Blak Day Out has been free in some past years, the event is ticketed in 2025.
On any given Saturday morning across Brisbane, plenty of pooches can be found descending upon the city's markets. Come 6am–12pm on Saturday, October 19 in Carseldine, dog lovers and their BFFs will be doing what they usually do — with the added bonus of attending the northside spot's returning Barktoberfest. What do cute canines have to do with celebrating this time of year? Nothing, but don't let that get in the way of a dapper doggo-friendly morning out. As well as the usual food and fresh produce, an array of pet-related stalls will ramp up the fun to bark-tastic levels — plus a puppy parade and a pawparazzi photo contest to determine just which four-legged friend is the most adorable. And, if you don't have your own pupper nipping at your heels, and you'd like to, the Animal Welfare League Queensland will also be hosting a dog adoption zone onsite. Yes, you can take your pets to this market or come home with one. Or, if you're looking to add to your furry brood, you could even do both. UPDATE, OCTOBER 16: Due to Brisbane's stormy weather on Saturday, October 12, Barktoberfest was delayed by one week, with the event now taking place on Saturday, October 19. This event listing has been updated to reflect that change.
In the humble espresso martini, caffeine and booze combine in glorious style. But why just drink regular ol' coffee-flavoured cocktails in elongated glasses when you can try inventive types? There's a time and a place for traditional concoctions, of course. There's also a time and a place to sip salted caramel espresso martinis, Nutella espresso martinis and jaffa versions as well. Throw in coconut tipples, honeycomb varieties, a fruit-and-nut combo and something called an 'outback espresso' (featuring Australian white spiced rum with spices and bitters), and that's the eight-cocktail menu for Riverland's riverside Espresso Martini Fest back in July. The event was such a hit, it's returning for a second event — Espresso Martini Fest: Espresso Harder. Drop by from 11am on Friday, October 11, with the festivities in full swing all day — and with the site's range of street kitchens cooking up food to match until 9pm. Live music will also be on the menu from 5pm, followed by DJs, because all that caffeine will give you plenty of energy to expend. And while it should go without saying, if you don't like your beverages with a considerable buzz, then this isn't the event for you.
Low and slow barbecuing has long become one of Brisbane's favourite styles of food preparation, and there's a festival to prove it. Come Saturday, July 27 and Sunday, July 18, the Victoria Park sporting fields will be engulfed in the kind of smoky, spicy taste sensations that can only come from taking your time to lock in as much goodness as possible. Following on from sold-out fests in previous years, the fifth annual Brisbane BBQ Festival will once again see a convoy of food trucks, burger joints and more converge upon Herston to prove their culinary patience. They'll be starting up their ovens long before their doors open, and you'll get to devour the long-simmering rewards. Between sampling from the likes of Brisket & Co, Black Iron Smokers, The Bacon Strip Club and Ze German Sausage, you'll also watch teams of professionals battle it out to be crowned the low and slow champions, all while scoring free samples of their creations. Or, sip frosty bevs at pop-up bars, learn new skills at masterclasses and workshops, and browse the marketplace for barbecue-related products to help you whip up a storm at home.
If you're a dedicated cheese fiend who eats, breathes and adores all things dairy, then you don't need an excuse to add it to any occasion. Of course, you'll always appreciate all the help you can get. Taking a Sunday staple, swapping out baked goods for cheese and adding plenty of wine — yes, that fits. Every Sunday from 11am–3pm, Salt Meats Cheese at South Bank is serving up High Cheese. You'll find both savoury and sweet morsels on the menu, all boasting the common ingredient. That's just one of the great things about cheese: it tastes amazing slathered over crackers, and just as great when its part of a cheesecake. [caption id="attachment_758018" align="aligncenter" width="1920"] Salt Meats Cheese[/caption] The feast itself will set you back $39 per person; however if you'd like to add some booze, that'll cost extra. For $19 each, you'll sip your way through two glasses of vino — and for $39 on top of your High Cheese fee, you'll swill free-flowing wine for two hours. Updated January 17.
Brunch ranks among everyone's favourite meals all-year-round, but it's especially enticing in spring. Flowers are blooming, the shadow of winter is lifting (even Brisbane's barely cold winter) and everyone is chirpy — and in the mood to pair a mid-morning meal with unlimited beverages. For folks fond of shiraz, the Osbourne Hotel's next brunch is definitely a winner. The wine varietal will be flowing freely at the venue's Shiraz Showdown: Barossa Bottomless Brunch, as paired with your choice of shiraz-inspired food items, too. Only the vino side of the event is bottomless, but, let's face it, that's the main thing that everyone wants anyway. And, all of the drops will hail from the South Australian valley. If that sounds like your ideal way to spend the first Saturday of the season, then pencil in September 7 in your diary. The event kicks off at 11am, with tickets on sale now — if you nab an early bird special, you'll only pay $45, with the price rising to $60 once the first lot has sold out.
Another week, another excuse for a party over at Riverland. Given the venue's unique combination of location, views, street food and booze, no one is complaining. And, given that it's serving up refreshing spritzes at its latest shindig, it's definitely cause for a nearly-springtime celebration. Happening on the last day of winter, Riverland's Spring Spritz is all about the beverage in question, with five varieties on offer for the whole day. These aren't just your regular spritzes, either — whether you think you've tried every kind there is, or you've already sampled the bar's entire cocktail menu, you'll still be in for a surprise. All five spritzes will only be available on Saturday, August 31, should you need any more motivation to head along. Entry is free, although your cocktails won't be. You'll also be able to pair your tipples with tasty eats from the five kitchens onsite. Pop by from 11am–9pm, with live tunes and DJs providing the soundtrack. Image: Riverland.
Like brunch? Like espresso martinis? Firmly believe the former can be made better by adding the latter? Then The Society's next springtime get-together is your idea of a good time. After hosting afternoon parties over the last year or so, it's now getting into the mid-morning game with a Brewtiful Espresso Martini Brunch. A number of creative cocktail flavours will be available — including Tim Tam espresso martinis, because why not? — however there's more to this shindig, too. In total, five pop-up bars will be slinging beverages, spanning Pimm's, sparkling and spritz cocktails. Fancy a frosty treat? Try designing your own ice block, complete with toppings. Meanwhile, back on the coffee theme, there'll also be affogatos, Irish coffees, coffee-smoked brisket burgers, cinnamon and coffee waffles, and coffee custard cannoli. And, just regular ol' coffee (and tea), should you need an old-fashioned buzz. Lawn games such as croquet and giant Jenga, a ceramics studio, a pop-up jewellery shop, a floral cart, DJs and live jazz are on the agenda as well, in what promises to be a jam-packed day. It all takes place from 10.30am–4.30pm on Saturday, September 28, with two types of tickets available. Opt for a brunch box package for $65, which includes an espresso martini on arrival, a New York-style bagel, Portuguese-style baked egg tartlet and range of sweets, all under shady umbrellas. Or, if you choose the $100 VIP option, you'll get three hours of drinks, a canape brunch with a cheese station, and rooftop access. Images: The Society.
It's Ekka time again, but heading to the annual show isn't everyone's idea of fun. Specifically, if you're after an event that puts sustainability and ethical practices first and foremost — and focuses on zero-waste ideals and cruelty-free products — then you might want to mosey along to The Green Edge's one-day alternative instead. Taking place on the Brisbane midweek public holiday that is Wednesday, August 14, The Green Edge Vegan Ekka Day Festival has dagwood dogs, but without any animal products. It'll also have show bags, but they won't be filled with the kind of sugary goodies you'd get at the RNA. Instead, the Windsor store is all about green and vegan wares — at its bake sale, in its raffles, throughout its stalls and while live music plays. From 10am–4pm, a heap of other likeminded businesses will be on-site joining in, and yes, everything is 100-percent vegan. Entry is free, and as well as bringing the littlies, you can also bring your pets too. Image: The Green Edge.
Strawberry sundae season is in full swing, but no matter how much you love the Ekka's iconic scoops of pink-coloured ice cream, we can't all go to the show to grab one every day that it's on. If you fancy treating yo'self to something similar — and in a fancier setting, too — you can make a date with Stokehouse Q from Friday, August 9 to Sunday, August 18, with the South Bank restaurant serving up its best Ekka-inspired creation. Created by group pastry chef Lauren Eldridge, this strawberries and cream concoction is a serious treat, combining strawberries and cream-flavoured semifreddo with strawberry meringue and fresh strawberry. It's available during the lunch and dinner service for $19, and it's for fans of the red, juicy fruit, clearly. Making a great deed even better, Stokehouse Q is partnering with The Common Good, aka The Prince Charles Hospital Foundation, and donating a portion of the proceeds from the limited-edition dish to this worthy cause. That's something you won't get with your regular sundae — or river views, either. Plus, if you want to try whipping up the dessert yourself, the recipe is also available on Stokehouse Q's website.
Every Sunday afternoon could use a few beers, whether you're farewelling the weekend in style or taking the edge off the fact that tomorrow is a brand new work day. At Semi-Pro Brewing Co, that's the reality each and every week — but it's only serving up yum cha with its yeasty tipples on one particular Sunday. Semi-Pro will provide the beer, Dumpling Master will provide the food, and you and your significant other / BFF / fellow beer- and dumpling-lover will be in heaven. Just head to Manilla Street in East Brisbane between 12–6pm on Sunday, August 18, and prepare for a lunch, mid-afternoon or early dinner feast. Designed for two, Yum (Cha) Beer will set you back $50 between you, then make sure that your stomach and your brew-craving tastebuds are content. As well as a pints each from Semi-Pro's core range, you'll eat your way through six prawn dumplings, six pork dumplings, two barbecue pork buns, a green onion pancake and a serve of spring rolls between you.
Back in February, VEND Marketplace added a new space dedicated to plants. Its mission: to help you fill your home with all types of greenery. And to help you do just that, it's hosting a huge sale. Welcome to the Greenhouse, as the area is aptly known. The place where gardeners' dreams come true, it's upping the ante from 8am on Saturday, August 3. That's when the 250-square-metre indoor garden will be slinging its green babies at a special one-day event — and yes, there'll be about succulents, cacti, indoor plants, hanging plants, outdoor plants, pots and more. Plenty of plants will be on sale for less than $12, and there'll also be juice, smoothies, tea, coffee, beer and wine to drink, plus food trucks serving up street eats. Plus, if you can find a hidden jungle animal, you'll nab yourself a free piece of greenery.
If Brisbane's latest food event needs a theme song, it has plenty of options to choose from. Sure, most tracks that reference wings in their name come soaked in emotion (we're thinking about Jeffrey Osbourne's 'On the Wings of Love' and Bette Midler's 'Wind Beneath My Wings', for starters, because 80s tunes are just that impossible to forget). But hey, who isn't in love with crispy, deep-fried chicken wings? We're going on about potential anthems because the Australian Buffalo Wing Festival will make you want to sing an ode to its titular dish, we're betting. That's what showcasing all the great places in Brissie that sell these delectable sites of poultry does. Well, that and fill your stomach. Featuring everywhere from Aether and KaiKai Chicken to Fritzenberger and Shady Palms among its locations — and Wing Fury, Seoul Bistro and Newstead Brewing, too — the fest is a choose-your-own-adventure kind of affair. Basically, pick an eatery from one of the four regions highlighted on the four days from Wednesday, September 4 to Saturday, September 7, and start munching. Or, go on a buffalo-crawl in search of the many deals on offer. Each joint will be serving up their own flavours, so you really will want to taste them all.
Drinking vino, snacking on dairy foods and devouring gourmet salumi is most people's idea of a great afternoon — and, come Saturday, July 27 it's Gerard's Bar's as well. Between midday and 2pm, the Fortitude Valley venue is hosting a wine-tasting arvo with bites to go with it, all for $45. At Wine Meats Cheese, you'll enjoy all of the above, with more than a dozen tipples from Bacchus, Naked Brunch, Mezzanine, Deja Vu and more in the spotlight. The focus is on organic and biodynamic wines, so prepare your palate accordingly. It's the latest event in what the James Street bar has previously called a "wine adventure", but however they badge it, it's an ace excuse to discover new drops while feasting on artisan cheese and charcuterie. The usual advice applies: arrive with a thirst for top wine and a taste for the perfect accompaniments. Wine Meats Cheese is also part of this year's James Street Food and Wine Trail, if you're still hankering for a bite and a beverage afterwards.
Arrive hungry, leave with a stomach full of pizza and pasta. If that doesn't sound like culinary bliss, then nothing does. Every Wednesday, Caxton Street's Enzo & Sons is getting into the all-you-can-eat game — because if there's one thing that any Italian joint always comes to realise, it's that no one ever wants to stop at just a few slices or mouthfuls. Running from 6–9pm weekly, Enzo's All-You-Can-Eat Pizza and Pasta night serves up three different options. Whether you opt for endless pizza, bottomless pasta or unlimited helpings of both is up to you. If you choose just pizza or just pasta, that'll set you back $25, while the combo costs $35. The rustic-style joint boasts a small but hearty range, spanning favourite pizza toppings such as pork and fennel sausage, prosciutto and fior di latte, margherita and four cheeses — plus osso bucco pappadelle and angel hair with lemon, chilli, garlic and parsley. Drinks aren't included, but if you're feeling like treating yourself, you'll find plenty of beer and wine, as well as an 11-strong cocktail list. Image: Enzo & Sons.
Heading to Given Terrace staple Darling & Co is all about hangs in the venue's breezy space, and every Aussie knows that a weekend party isn't complete without a little (or a lot of) bubbly. Happy to oblige, the Paddington spot has launched bottomless prosecco and spritz picnics, which are now on offer every Sunday. And the restaurant isn't simply offering the standard two hours of bottomless booze, either. Instead of table service, patrons have unlimited access to a fountain, which comes complete with a carved lion that has a prosecco tap for a mouth. You'll be able to pour your own bubbly from that tap throughout the two hours, while enjoying an extensive spread. Find a comfy spot while enjoying the grazing menu — it includes brisket and smoked cheddar croquettes, freshly shucked oysters and buttermilk crocodile, along with fried baby squid and chicken caramel glaze with blue cheese sauce. Sides include garlic and herb crostini and breads, plus a selection of charcuterie and cheese. Sparkling Springs costs $60 per person, with sittings at 2pm every Sunday until December 22. Bookings are essential and can be made through the website.
On Saturday, September 7, Fortitude Valley's Chinatown mall will be glowing — under the spring moonlight, and thanks to the luminous vibe that comes from the annual Chinese Moon Festival. Running from 4–9pm, the event harks back to Chinese tradition, and is timed to coincide with the moon at its roundest and brightest. It was originally a harvest fest, but has grown and evolved to become an all-round celebration, which is exactly what's on the cards in Brisbane. Check out the lion and dragon dances, catch some live and traditional music, and keep an eye out for other wandering entertainment. Impressive Japanese footwork and Chinese clowning are also on the agenda, as is a moon-shaped installation that symbolises closeness — upon which you'll be able to write the names of your own nearest and dearest. And, if you're understandably feeling peckish after all of the above, you're in the perfect place for dumplings, Peking duck and yum cha, thanks to the surrounding Chinatown restaurants.
Pizza is one of life's undeniable culinary pleasures. When it's decked out with gourmet ingredients, it's fantastic. When it's greasy and paired with a few brews, it's just as great. And when it's cold and soaking up a hangover, it's also perfect. Everyone shares the same kind of favourite pizza, however, because there's just no pizza better than free pizza. The only way to improve on that concept? Pairing free pizza with wine — although you'll have to pay for your tipples. To celebrate its second birthday, Fortitude Valley's Mr Chester Wine Bar is serving up slices for nothing, and showcasing vino from Lo-Fi Wines. Busting out your wallet for a few beverages is really the least you can do when free pizza is on offer. There'll also be cocktails, a DJ spinning retro hip hop and an overall party vibe. Just drop by from 6pm on Thursday, August 1 — and prepare to have company, because everyone loves tucking into this doughy Italian staple without paying a cent. Image: Mr Chester Wine Bar
It has been five years since La Macelleria set up shop in Brisbane, gifting the city's residents with an array of inventive gelato and sorbet flavours. During that time, it has taught ice cream lovers how to make their own, served up all-you-can-eat sweet treats and expanded its footprint by adding a three new shops — and now it's giving away a free taste of one of its signature flavours. To mark the huge milestone, La Macelleria will whip up plenty of prosecco sorbet, and then give it away between 4–6pm on Sunday, July 17. Why drink your favourite sparkling tipple when you can eat it in frosty form, obviously. Given how much Brissie loves gelato, not to mention free stuff, we'd recommend dropping by La Macelleria's Teneriffe store earlier rather than later on the day in question — it's only available while stocks last. With the celebrations running from 11am, there'll be other reasons to swing by, too, including pizza from Pizzantica and a heap of soccer-themed fun.
Thirsty? If you're not now, you will be once you've read this. That's the only appropriate reaction to a festival of beer, after all. Just think of all the amber liquids and foamy goodness. Okay, enough drooling; here are the important details that every ale-lover needs. When Beer Fest On The Grass returns on Saturday, February 15, 2020, more than 130 beers and ciders will be on offer from over 50 different brewers — including Aether, Catchment, Gage Roads, Green Beacon, Hop Nation, Jetty Road, Moon Dog Young Henrys and Your Mates Brewing. To line your stomach, there'll also be a range of international food trucks. Basically, if there's a beer heaven, this is it. It's the seventh year that Eatons Hill Hotel has hosted the tipple-fuelled shindig, once again celebrating drinking, eating and enjoying a day in Brisbane's glorious outdoors. If you're serious about your beverages, you'll want to taste, sip, sample and chat to folks from a huge selection of breweries. And if you're serious about fun, you'll want to gather some mates and take part in the event's other fun activities — in previous years, there's been an inflatable beer obstacle course, a keg-stacking comp and a life-sized game of foosball. Tickets are on sale now, with entry costing $10. Image: Brisbane Beer Fest.
Brisbane's craft brewery boom has many benefits, but themed tipples rank among the best of them. No matter the occasion, you can stumble into a beer-loving space and drink a freshly brewed just for it — like pumpkin-flavoured brews for Halloween, naturally. At Semi-Pro on Manilla Street in East Brisbane, pumpkin-spiced brown ale is on the menu on Thursday, October 31 (because there's nothing scarier than sipping a beer made from an orange vegetable, obviously). Drop by from 4pm to enjoy the kind of beverage you definitely can't drink every day — plus other appropriate shenanigans at the Semi-Pro Halloween Party. Yes, there's a costume contest. Drinking a pumpkin-flavoured beer on Halloween in your ordinary, everyday clothes would just be strange, after all. There'll be prizes for best dressed, funniest costume and scariest costume, so it's worth putting some thought into your attire. And if all that spooky fun has your stomach rumbling, Notorious E.A.T. will be on hand to line your stomach with hip hop-themed burgers.
