When the Peninsula Hot Springs unveiled its revamped facilities in 2018, the acclaimed Fingal spot added something extra exciting: an amphitheatre. And, this February, you can enjoy it in all its glory when the Mornington Peninsula spa bring back its Bathe-In Cinema. For the next four Friday evenings, you can watch a rom-com on the big screen while submerged in a 39-degree geothermal pool. First cab off the ranks for Valentine's Day is British cult favourite Notting Hill — and even if you've watched it 500 times already, we're betting you haven't watched it like this. The next three films are up for selection from the public — at the moment, you can vote for either Bridget Jones' Diary or Sleepless in Seattle to be shown on February 21. Even better — catching a flick is included in the regular Bath House bathing price, which'll set you back $55 per person.
When it comes to eating your way through a few scoops of ice cream, no one really needs an excuse. But when there's free ice cream on offer, well, that's obviously as good a reason as you're ever going to get. And it just so happens that Ben & Jerry's is serving up exactly that across Australia until Sunday, November 15 — including at its stores in Burwood Brickworks, Flinders Lane and St Kilda. We hope you like your ice cream stuffed with dough — cookie dough, that is — because that's what's on the menu. To celebrate 30 years since it first started mixing cookie dough into its desserts, Ben & Jerrys is whipping up 35,000 free scoops from its dough-filled range. Yes, you'll have to choose between the old favourite that is chocolate chip cookie dough, the caramel and peanut butter-heavy 'The Tonight Dough' and the 'Totally Baked' flavour with bits of brownies, too. Or, you can opt for 'Boots on the Moooo'n', with toffee and sugar cookie dough; 'Peanut Butter Half Baked', which is clearly self-explanatory; and a non-dairy version of choc-chip cookie dough. To score your free ice cream, you'll need to register online first. You'll also need to select a times and a location — and then you can get licking.
UPDATE, January 27, 2021: Savage is available to stream via Stan and Amazon Video. Tattoos covering his cheeks, nose and forehead, a scowl affixed almost as permanently, but raw sorrow lurking in his eyes, Jake Ryan cuts a striking sight in Savage. He's a walking, drinking, growling, hammer-swinging advertisement for toxic masculinity — how it looks at its most stereotypical extreme, and how it often masks pain and struggle — and the performance is the clear highlight of the Home and Away, Wolf Creek and Underbelly actor's resume to-date. Playing a character named Danny but also known as Damage, Ryan also perfectly epitomises the New Zealand gang drama he's in, which similarly wraps in-your-face packaging around a softer, richer core. Savage's protagonist and plot have had plenty of predecessors over the years in various ways, from Once Were Warriors' exploration of violence, to Mean Streets' chronicle of crime-driven youth, plus the bikie warfare of TV's Sons of Anarchy and even Aussie film 1%, but there's a weightiness on display here that can't just be wrung from a formula. That said, although first-time feature director and screenwriter Sam Kelly takes inspiration from NZ's real-life gangs, and from true tales from within their ranks spanning three decades, Savage does noticeably follow a predictable narrative path. Viewers first meet Danny in 1989, when he's the second-in-charge of the Savages, which is overseen by his lifelong best friend Moses (John Tui, Fast & Furious: Hobbs & Shaw, Solo: A Star Wars Story) but is also under threat by rank-and-file members agitating for a leadership challenge. In-fighting, and Moses' sheer desperation to remain on top, aren't Danny's biggest issues, however. Whether imposing the ramifications of being disloyal upon a younger colleague or being unable to relinquish control in an intimate situation, he's both tightly wound and silently aching, and he's also unable to shake the cumulative effect of all the factors and decisions that have led him to this testosterone-saturated point. A series of flashbacks, each fittingly moody and tense, explain why Danny is in his current situation physically, mentally and emotionally. The film first jumps to 1965, when he's nine (played by Pete's Dragon's Olly Presling), victimised by his overbearing father and sent to juvenile detention, where he initially meets and befriends a young, wild-haired Moses (Lotima Pome'e). The circumstances leading to Danny's stint in custody and his treatment while he's there each leave an imprint, with Moses swiftly becoming the only person that he can count on. Skipping forward to 1972, when the pair are in their late teens (played by James Matamua and Haanz Fa'avae-Jackson), they establish the Savages — and, although it gives them a sense of belonging that's absent elsewhere, they're soon caught in a Wellington turf war with a rival gang. Yes, all of the above narrative elements have a well-worn feel to them, but a blandly, routinely by-the-numbers flick isn't the end result here. Aided by suitably gritty and restless camerawork that mirrors Danny's inner turmoil, the film packs a punch when it lets that unease fester in quiet moments. It's also particularly astute when honing in on Danny and Moses's complicated friendship, and how pivotal it is throughout their constantly marginalised lives. There's never any doubting that Savage is a movie about family, including the traumas they can inflict, the hurt that comes with being torn away from loved ones at a young age, the kinship found in understanding pals and the concept of brotherhood in gangs, and the feature is at its most affecting when it lets these truths emanate naturally. Kelly does like to stress the point, though, and to do overtly. Indeed, the clunkiest parts of Savage involve Danny's yearning to see his mother and his tussles with his older brother Liam (played by Jack William Parker as a teen and Seth Flynn as an adult). Every year Danny, stands outside his childhood home, looks on at his parents and siblings and, unable to step into the yard, notches a mark on the fence outside — and it's an instantly and repeatedly overdone touch. When he's reunited with Liam, it's because the two brothers are in opposing crews, another obvious, template-esque inclusion that's far less effective or moving than seeing how Danny navigates the gang he has chosen as his new family. Unsurprisingly, Danny's gang life is brutal and violent, which Savage doesn't shy away from in a visual sense. Tonally, the film aims for Shakespearian levels of tragedy, too, as Sons of Anarchy did before it. But while most of the feature hits its marks, draws viewers in and keeps them interested, the movie's biggest force and asset is always Ryan. Tui also proves a commanding screen presence, as does first-timer Alex Raivaru as the latter's nemesis, while young Presling and Pome'e share a convincing rapport. When an actor plays the kind of immediately imposing role that Ryan is tasked with, however, how they handle the subtler side of the character is pivotal — and audiences can feel Danny's bubbling distress even when he's the most formidable figure figure in the room. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NK3eDfkXBzg Top image: Domino Films, Matt Grace.
Finding a great cocktail isn't hard in Melbourne, but between Wednesday, February 26–Sunday, March 1, it'll become a little easier. For five booze-filled days, that's when the first Melbourne Cocktail Festival is taking over the city. If you're eager to wander between venues, sip plenty of drinks and taste the best creative tipples that this town has to offer, then you'll want a ticket. The aforementioned roam around the city forms part of MCF's Safari Pass, which costs $20 and features 24 bars. You'll still need to pay for your cocktail at each one; however you'll receive something special for $15 a pop, with each of the participating watering holes whipping up a unique concoction. You can rove at your own pace, and you'll also score a digital recipe book outlining the method behind every drink, as well as entry to MCF's closing party. Organised by hospitality-focused co-working space Worksmith and curated by Orlando Marzo — who earned the title of World Class Global Bartender of the Year in 2018 for his work at Lûmé — the fest will also include workshops, guided tours, seminars and art installations, as well as a tasting day event where plenty of sampling is in order. Coming to town from London, The Connaught Bar's Agostino Perrone and Giorgio Bargiani will headline the fest and share their mixology tips, while both those who make cocktails professionally and those who just like drinking them can expect a range of other highlights — including a fermentation workshop hosted by New York's Sandor Katz and The Fermentary's Sharon Flynn. Elsewhere on the program, Melbourne's much-loved pop-up bar Fancy Free is returning, taking over Fitzroy's Drinkwell for two days of video installations, DJs, Bar Liberty snacks and Bacardi Breezers, and Fitzroy's Rose Street market will host Marionette's Peachy Fete party with peach tea punch, peach bellinis, peach pie, peach soft serve and pretzels. You can also learn about the absinthe at Bar Amphere, drink bottomless gin punch at Gin Palace's boozy high tea, try many a caffeinated beverage at Mr Black's Bar Takeover of Beneath Driver Lane and help wrap up festivities at Whitehart Bar's closing party. There's a helluva lot more happening, too, you can check out the full program over here. [caption id="attachment_612040" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Whitehart Bar[/caption] Top image: James Morgan. Updated January 30, 2019.
Fancy reliving your childhood film favourites on the stage? That seems to be the current trend. Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is doing big business in Melbourne, the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory musical has been taking its golden tickets around the country, and now Shrek the Musical is bringing its all-singing, all-dancing version of the animated movie franchise to Her Majesty's Theatre from February 16, 2020. Expect plenty of green when this Tony and Grammy award-nominated stage show finally makes its way to our shores, after first premiering on Broadway back in 2008. Since then, everyone's favourite ogre — originally voiced by Mike Myers — has sung his way through theatres in the UK, Asia Europe, Canada, Latin and South America, Israel and Scandinavia. You know the story, of course — unless you somehow managed to miss the original 2001 Oscar-winning film, its sequels in 2004, 2007 and 2010, and the heap of spin-offs, shorts, TV specials and series that all followed. Based on the 1990 picture book Shrek!, the tale follows the reclusive but kindly titular figure who endeavours to rescue the feisty Princess Fiona from the the fairy tale-hating Lord Farquaad, all while trekking along with a talking Donkey sidekick. Shrek lovers can expect a whopping 19 songs, an obvious colour scheme and plenty of other fairy tale references. After its Melbourne run, it will head to the Lyric Theatre in Brisbane. Check out the trailer for the production's UK run below: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ESm1JoEIXAY Image: Helen Maybanks.
Melbourne's independent Thornbury Picture House is teaming up with Four Pillars gin for a mini booze and film festival. Each Thursday night in February, the 57-seat High Street spot is hosting double bills paired with gin cocktails. It's quite the lineup, too, with a little something for everyone on the bill. The festival is called Hot Summer Films, so that's the kind of tone it's going for — expect coming-of-age tales, love stories, summery thrillers and surf dramas hitting the screen. First up on February 6 is the program's only single bill: the adult film industry epic Boogie Nights. This you can pair with a spiced negroni gin spritz made with, of course, Four Pillars. Next, on February 13, two coming-of-age tales: Mexican drama Y Tu Mama Tambien and Italian-set romance Call Me By Your Name. On this night, you can sip on a cocktail made with Bloody Shiraz gin and bitter lemon. The following week, two 90s classics are on the bill. Kick off the night with Thelma & Louise and wrap things up with A League of Their Own — both paired with a G&T. Finally, the program wraps up with a twist on a moscow mule, the Tom Cruise-starring 80s hit Cocktail and surf drama Point Break. The first screening of each evening kicks off between 6.00–6.20pm, then the second between 8.25–8.40pm — but we suggest you get there a little earlier for the drinks. Tickets are $18.50 for each film. Top image: Nicole Cleary
More than eight months since it premiered at the 2019 Cannes Film Festival, winning the Palme d'Or and sparking a wave of acclaim that's still going, Bong Joon-ho's Parasite is still earning plenty of attention. In fact, even though the South Korean masterpiece opened in Australian cinemas at the end of June last year, it's still — yes, still — screening on the big screen. It actually hasn't stopped showing in theatres in all of that time. Whether you've seen the best film of 2019 already, or you've been meaning to catch up, heading along to a session on Sunday, February 9 is highly recommended. Don't just go to any old screening of the twisty flick, though. On this one day — the day before this year's Oscars, where Bong's applauded movie is in the running for six awards — Parasite will be screening in select cinemas in black and white. Bong has always wanted to make a B&W film, inspired by the works of auteurs such as Jean Renoir, Federico Fellini, Akira Kurosawa and John Ford. While Parasite was shot in colour, this new monochrome print lets its director live out his dreams. And, it lets audiences experience the movie's thrills, secrets and feuding families in a brand new way. As Bong himself explains about watching it in black and white, "the film felt more realistic and sharp, as if I was being cut by a blade." Melburnians can check out the B&W version at Cinema Nova; Palace Como, Westgarth and Balwyn; Kino Cinema; Village Jam Factory; the Cameo Belgrave, Classic Elsternwick and the Lido; and the Sun Yarraville. In the interim, watch the trailer below — in colour, though, not black and white: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SEUXfv87Wpk
Melburnians, you really love your cheese. You've tried a 150-cheese pizza, bought buckets of the stuff on the cheap and have entered cheese-fuelled comas in a cheese cave. Now, you can get your cheese fix in lockdown thanks to another ultra-cheesy experience: a 29-cheese gnocchi. South Yarra's Cucinetta is the eatery behind the wondrous creation, which it's bringing back for a lockdown 2.0. This time, though, it's a little different. Instead of eating it in-store, you can order it as part of a pack to pick up every Sunday from July 19–August 16. For $99.99, you get four truffle and cheese arancini, two serves of the 29-cheese gnocchi (which you finish off in the oven yourself), a salad and two tiramisu. And only 29 packs are available each week. The gnocchi in questions is handmade and comes with 29 cheeses sourced from Thomastown's That's Amore Cheese, including buffalo mozzarella, truffled caciotta (a fresh cow's milk cheese), smoked scamorza, blue cheese and salted ricotta. To get your hands on this limited-edition pack, you'll need to preorder via the Cucinetta website. If you, like us, fancy yourself a bit of a cheese fanatic, you're probably curious as to what the 29 cheeses are. Well, here's the full list: Fior di latte Buffalo mozzarella Burrata Scamorza bianca Caciotta Pepper caciotta Chilli caciotta Truffle caciotta Ricotta delicata Ricotta salata Mascarpone Squacquerone Buffalo bocconcini Buffalo ricotta Buffalo caciotta Buffalo mozzarella (smoked) Smoked bocconcini Smoked scamorza Smoked caciocavallo Diavoletto Secret of The Forest Drunken buffalo Lavato Panettone Panettone with truffle Caciocavallo Bufalotto Blue cheese Formaggio di vacca Cucinetta's 29-cheese gnocchi is available to pick up from 12–8pm every Sunday from July 19–August 16. Delivery is also available to select suburbs. You can preorder now. If and when you do decide to head out to pick up food, remember to follow the Australian Government Department of Health's social distancing guidelines.
Why drink at one watering hole, when you can head to two, three, six or more? That's always been the motivation behind everyone's favourite boozy journey, aka a pub crawl. And, it's the exact same type of thinking behind the Urban Wine Walk. Taking another wander around Melbourne, it's the bar-hopping excuse every vino lover needs — if you need an excuse, that is. From 12–4pm on Saturday, February 8, you'll saunter around Prahran and Windsor — and between the likes of White Oaks Saloon Bar and Dining, The Wolf and I, The Silverlake Social, Casa N.O.M. and more — sampling wines and having a mighty fine time. As for the tipples, they'll be taken care of by a range of local and national producers. Tickets cost $75 and places are limited. This moving cellar door will not only serve up more than 35 wine tastings, but also your own tasting glass — plus a voucher for another beverage, and a guide to help you plan your mosey between bars. Image: Griffin Sim.
UPDATE, August 24, 2020: American Animals is available to stream via SBS On Demand, Google Play, YouTube Movies and iTunes. For most people, a pile of DVDs provides a good night's viewing. For Spencer Reinhard (Barry Keoghan) and Warren Lipka (Evan Peters) in American Animals, it's a how-to guide. Hiring out The Usual Suspects, The Thomas Crown Affair, The Italian Job and more back in 2003, the pair aren't just indulging their love of heist films — they're planning their very own robbery. Alongside Eric Borsuk (Jared Abrahamson) and Chas Allen (Blake Jenner), the Kentucky college students set their sights on the Transylvania University library's rare collection, where specific volumes kept behind lock and key are worth millions. And while watching The Sting and giving each other codenames straight out of Reservoir Dogs mightn't seem like the smartest way to prepare, it illustrates the group's entire handling of their pilfering operation. Motivated by the thrill of disrupting their daily routine, the lure of easy money and the yearning to feel as though they're not simply average, Spencer and his fellow middle-class pals treat their caper like it's a movie. If they realise that the likes of Butch Cassidy and Point Break don't end well for the thieves, they're choosing to ignore it. Astonishingly, theirs is a true story. That said, it proves even more astonishing in Bart Layton's hands. Drawn to another strange slice of reality after 2012's similarly twisty and thrilling The Imposter, the writer-director literally turns the quartet's hijinks into the kind of slick Hollywood flick that they'd love to watch. Incorporating interviews with the actual men behind the larceny as well, Layton also crafts a spectacularly playful and entertaining film that blurs the line between documentary and drama. When Spencer discovers the treasure trove of books sitting within his college library, stealing them just seems so straightforward. Or at least it does to Warren. While art student Spencer is apprehensive, the more outgoing and carefree Warren latches onto the idea like there's no other alternative. And from that moment on, there isn't. Soon the two friends are sketching blueprints, flying to Amsterdam to meet with art dealers, rustling up disguises, and recruiting the apprehensive Eric and Chas. But then the big day arrives, they come face-to-face with the kindly archivist (Ann Dowd) charged with keeping the valuable texts safe, and the group's brush with crime is hardly the glossy heist that they've imagined. If only American Animals could've sat in Spencer and Warren's to-watch pile, showing them what lay ahead. It doesn't, of course, although the notion isn't that far removed from Layton's perceptive and inventive approach. In a supremely clever blend of fact, fiction, fantasy and memory — and a superb display of editing as well — the filmmaker inserts the real-life perpetrators into the proceedings. Along with their parents and teachers, they relay their version of events to the camera, often conflicting with each other. Layton rewinds his recreations in response, unfurling new takes and changing details. More than that, he lets the actual Spencer and Warren step into the drama and interact with their counterparts, stopping the actors playing them when questions arise about what exactly happened, and how, and why. There are heist movies, and then there are heist movies. Despite the many examples viewed by American Animals' protagonists, there's never been one quite like this. It's the product of a filmmaker who's determined to probe and ponder in a savvy and dazzling manner — and it's not only his thoroughly relevant and timely queries that grab attention, but the way he's doing the asking. In an endlessly fascinating film that wonders why four young men from comfortable backgrounds would risk their futures just to prove that they're special, and what that says about society as a whole, Layton lets his stylistic choices offer some of the answers. It's not by accident that American Animals begins with talking heads and naturalistic hues, then becomes fast and sleek when Spencer and company start chasing their fantasy, only to opt for grit and grimness when reality strikes. Serving up resounding proof that The Imposter wasn't a one-off, Layton is at the top of his game — but he also has help. Or, perhaps his nose for a stunning story and his astute ability to spin it in exactly the right way are matched by his knack for casting. Acting opposite the real figures, Keoghan (The Killing of a Sacred Deer) and Peters (X-Men: Days of Future Past) couldn't better convey Spencer and Warren's essence. When the actual Warren proudly shows off his comic tattoo of a tyrannosaurus rex trying to switch off a ceiling fan, Peters instantly matches his wild yet assured vibe. When Spencer shows himself to be a ball of quiet nerves, Keoghan lets the feeling seep out of his pores. Still, the greatest trick that American Animals pulls is turning truth into a yarn and vice-versa, all while demonstrating how flimsy the boundary between the two truly is. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WlSxrxMYn8A
If you've been dreaming about a new set of wheels to help you gracefully glide into the sunny season, the legends at Amsterdam-born bike label Lekker can help you out. This weekend, the company's Melbourne store will host another edition of its ever-popular 'garage sale', promising two days filled with bikes, bargains, eats and beats. The party starts pedalling at 10am on both Saturday, October 6, and Sunday, October 7, at Lekker's cheery North Melbourne warehouse. Those in the market for new wheels will be able to test ride a few different designs around the suburb's backstreets, and, if all goes well, buy one — all bikes, accessories and parts will be discounted, some by up to 50 percent. Backing up the fun and embracing those sweet spring vibes, there'll be a soundtrack of groovy tunes, plus free food and drinks. Don't risk a sleep-in, though — Lekker's past sales have seen pretty hefty lines of punters keen for those bicycle bargains and you don't want to miss out.
If you had only ever watched five horror movies in your life, odds are that one would've covered being careful what you wish for, and another would've focused on not messing with nature. It's equally likely that growing up being hell, motherhood being even more nightmarish and grappling with the terrors of the human body would've popped up as well. These all rank among the genre's favourite concepts, alongside haunted houses, murderous forces, demonic influences and the undead — and, making her feature filmmaking debut with the savvily sinister-meets-satirical blend that is Hatching, Finnish writer/director Hanna Bergholm knows this. She's also innately aware that something unique, distinctive and unnerving can still spring from stitching together well-used notions and now-familiar parts, which, on- and off-screen, is her bold and memorable body-horror, twisted fairy tale and dark coming-of-age thriller in an eggshell. Hatching begins by unpacking a fallacy as fractured as Humpty Dumpty after the nursery-rhyme character's fall — and that still keeps being lapped up anyway. In suburban Finland, among homes so identical that the song 'Little Boxes' instantly pops into your head, 12-year-old gymnast Tinja (debutant Siiri Solalinna), her younger brother Matias (fellow first-timer Oiva Ollila), and their mother (Sophia Heikkilä, Dual) and father Jani Volanen, Dogs Don't Wear Pants) are living their best lives. More than that, as the soft lensing and music that helps open the movie establishes, they're also beaming that picture of pink, white and pastel-hued domestic perfection to the world. Tinja's unnamed mum is a vlogger, and these scenes are being captured for her cloyingly named blog Lovely Everyday Life. Naturally, showing that this family of four's daily existence is anything but enchanting is one of Bergholm's first aims. The initial crack comes from outside, crashing through the window to ruin a posed shot alight with fake smiles and, of course, being filmed with a selfie stick. Soon, broken glass, vases and lamps are strewn throughout a lounge room so immaculately arranged that it looks straight out of a supermarket-shelf home-and-garden magazine — and the crowning glory, the chandelier, has descended from a luminous pièce de résistance to a shattered mess. A garden-variety crow is the culprit, which Tinja carefully captures. She hands it to her mother, thinking that they'll then release it outside. But her mum, placid but seething that anything could disrupt her manufactured picture of bliss, ignores that idea with a cruel snap and instructions to dispose of the animal in the organic waste. Watching the source of her own life snuff out a bird's because it temporarily disturbed the faux, performative idyll is understandably a formative moment for Tinja, and one of several early splinters. The girl is clearly nowhere near as enthused about gymnastics as her mum is about having a star gymnast for a daughter, even before Tinja is forced to train until her palms are torn and bloody. She's also unsettled when she sees her mother kissing handyman Tero (Reino Nordin, Deadwind), then justifies having a "special friend" because he satisfies her in ways Tinja's dutiful dad doesn't. So when Tinja finds the crow's egg in a nest outside, she's quick to take it into her care — both because of and despite her mum. She nurtures it tenderly, placing it inside a teddy bear for safe keeping. She gains her own little universe to dote over. Then the egg keeps growing, and a human-sized chick emerges. Hatching is economical, running for a mere 86 minutes. It also unfurls that above setup in its first third. From there, screenwriter Ilja Rautsi (Spandex Sapiens) — working with a story co-credited to Bergholm — spins a narrative that's part creature feature, too, but wholly steeped in Tinja's experiences encroaching womanhood and tackling her own form of motherhood under the wing of someone who always puts appearances first. The grin-and-bear-it attitude that's imparted to adolescent girls to deal with bullying; the pressure to be perfect physically, emotionally and mentally, no matter the cost; the stigma around body image; the force exerted by caregivers and society alike around bodily agency; the urges and desires that comes with bubbling hormones: they're all weaved into Hatching's smart script. So too is the reality that, for girls, farewelling childhood doesn't just mean menstruation and other physical changes, but the potential to get pregnant, become a mother and have your existence forever tied to your offspring. If Rosemary's Baby springs to mind in Hatching's repeated lullaby-like refrain, plus the Alien franchise in its visceral depiction of twisted maternity, that's understandable. If there's a touch of E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial to the relationship between Tinja and the creature, but filtered through Black Swan and Us, that is as well. 2021's similar blend of folklore and parenthood, Lamb, also flaps gently — and the mother of all tales about sparking life, Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, too. One visual touch nods so overtly to David Lynch's Twin Peaks that you expect someone to mention damn fine coffee, while Blue Velvet's peeling back of suburban facades weighs heavily. The body-horror work of that other iconic filmmaking David, The Brood, Scanners and The Fly's Cronenberg, also flutters underneath as a clear influence. But Bergholm has incubated a rare movie that both makes its sources of inspiration blatant and feels like its own beast sprung from their combined DNA. One of the film's most striking moves hails from its twinning not just of Tinja and her surrogate offspring (via a supremely disturbing animatronic puppet to begin with, and evolving from there), but of two ways of soaring through the world. When cinematographer Jarkko T Laine (Finnish TV's Cargo) isn't lensing Päivi Kettunen's (Hotel Swan Helsinki) exacting production design, which weaponises floral wallpaper to a chilling degree, like an influencer's Instagram story — or peering into shadowy wardrobes and under beds — he's connecting the visual dots between flying birds and gymnastic acrobatics. For Tinja, though, the latter hasn't ever meant freedom. As so astonishing portrayed by Solalinna in a complicated part, and against such an entertainingly monstrous turn by Heikkilä, she's always felt trapped and henpecked in the nest. Hatching splits open that coop, its artifice and all the lies that reside within it — and, while happily obvious at times, makes for a crackingly clever, grotesque and canny watch.
History is written by the victors, or at least that's what the oft-used quote contends. In the same vein, tales about cancer are frequently focused on those fortunate enough not to experience their own malignant diagnosis. These are stories of grief-stricken folks struggling with watching a loved one face the disease, and potentially losing them, rather than accounts of what it's like to hear the words that no one ever wants to have said about their health. Spoiler Alert is one such narrative, first on the page and now on-screen starring The Big Bang Theory's Jim Parsons as real-life TV journalist Michael Ausiello and Knock at the Cabin's Ben Aldridge as his photographer husband Kit Cowan. Ausiello penned the printed memoir, which is honest, poignant and never blissfully rose-hued — but the fact that director Michael Showalter's latest big-screen illness drama, following the authentic and sincere The Big Sick, shortens the autobiography's full outcome-revealing title says plenty about this sweet but formulaic tear-jerker. No matter how you've been touched by cancer, or haven't, it's impossible not to spot the template beneath weepies about sickness. Trading in tragedy but also hope, these flicks weather heartbreak while dreaming of a happy ending even when they know one won't come — and it's to Spoiler Alert's detriment that the film teases in that direction to tug at heartstrings. Scripted not by ex-TV Guide and Entertainment Weekly writer-turned-TVLine founder Ausiello himself, but A Million Little Things' David Marshall Grant and Savage Love columnist Dan Savage, this is a picture that keeps things largely routine and simplistic rather than deep as a result. Indeed, when it gets welcomely thorny — when it feels specific to Ausiello and Cowan's 13-year-relationship, laying bare its early awkwardness and many imperfections rather than squeezing the pair's lives into the usual cancer-tainted romantic-drama pattern — it's a richer movie. More comfortable interacting with the world by watching the small screen than physically dancing through it — or dancing at all — Michael only meets Kit because a colleague tells him to ditch the Fear Factor listicle he's been assigned to hit up jock night at a gay bar instead. And, he needs more encouraging to even contemplate flirting; busting out Knight Rider references aren't the kind of banter that love at first sight is made of. One issue here, and throughout: Parsons' casting. His presence acts as a nicely winking joke given that he's a big TV star playing a TV-obsessed writer, but the movie also feels far too reluctant to tinker with or stretch its lead's established sitcom persona. Although Parsons isn't playing Sheldon Cooper playing Michael Ausiello, the actor's most famous character to-date casts a shadow over a film it shouldn't, especially since this is Michael and Kit's true story. Spoiler Alert begins before that initial encounter, with Michael first imagining his upbringing as a laugh track-accompanied 80s comedy called The Ausiellos. These scenes recur, designed to ground Michael's personality and coping mechanisms in his childhood, when he lost his mother to cancer and escaped into soap operas — but despite Showalter's comedy pedigree, including as a co-writer and star of Wet Hot American Summer and Wet Hot American Summer: First Day of Camp, they're clumsy. What the sitcom segments show, too, is that Spoiler Alert is beholden to a formula for most of its running time and yet also better when it hones in on its characters over cute quirks even while staying oh-so-standard. Being detailed will always triumph over going broad, something that Showalter demonstrated with The Big Sick; of course, his latest also plays too easily and familiarly as a companion piece to that hit. Here's a tidbit that can only be real, and is: Michael's apartment filled with more vintage Smurfs memorabilia than you're ever likely to see elsewhere, aka why he's apprehensive about bringing Kit home when things start clicking. (Ausiello's IRL collection was used.) The toys don't scare off his date like they might most, but Spoiler Alert sees the ups as well as the downs as weeks turn into months and years, Kit is dismissive of Michael's career, their differing levels of self-confidence causes distance, their varying wants cause rifts, each has their own takes on monogamy and therapy sessions become the norm. While Showalter and company don't dive particularly far into any of the above, they're still among Spoiler Alert's most resonant moments. Those, and whenever Sally Field (who led Showalter's Hello, My Name Is Doris in 2015) and Bill Irwin (The Dropout) appear as Kit's parents Marilyn and Bob, who he needs to come out to. That said, when Spoiler Alert kicks into illness mode, actively endeavouring to get the waterworks flowing, it still sparks the emotional response it's so forcefully seeking. It's also impossible not to be moved by the couple's plight, straightforward and eager to tick the predictable weepie boxes as the film clearly is. Unsurprisingly, there's greater emphasis placed on Michael's experiences by Kit's side than Kit's. Audiences are asked to empathise more with caring for and confronting a possible future without the one they love, because that's Ausiello's tale, over being the person whose existence faces its end. Even in a movie that's careful about not airbrushing away anyone's flaws — Michael's included — that's where Aldridge's charm, warmth and soul does crucial heavy lifting to make Kit more than a bystander in his own life-or-death ordeal. In addition to being a romance about a fated love, plus a drama about sickness, Spoiler Alert is a Christmas movie. When it's making star-led mainstream LGBTQIA+ films, Hollywood is currently head over heels for queer features that tie into the holidays, as Happiest Season and Bros also do. All three take a clearcut setup and attempt to make it their own, just with added Yuletide touches; spoiler alert: this life-to-page-to-screen effort is the least of the trio. The festive trimmings say plenty about Spoiler Alert as well, actually. Under the tree or stuffed in stockings, everything looks similar when packaged in jolly paper, after all. More often than not — and spanning its tinsel-decked scenes and its cancer narrative alike — Ausiello and Cowan's very real story becomes the glossily shot movie equivalent of a cookie-cutter wrapped-up gift.
Thanks to his Oscar-nominated work co-penning The Worst Person in the World's screenplay, Eskil Vogt has already helped give the world one devastatingly accurate slice-of-life portrait in the past year. That applauded film is so insightful and relatable about being in your twenties, and also about weathering quarter-life malaise, uncertainty and crisis, that it feels inescapably lifted from reality — and it's sublime. The Innocents, the Norwegian filmmaker's latest movie, couldn't be more different in tone and narrative; however, it too bears the fingerprints of achingly perceptive and deep-seated truth. Perhaps that should be mindprints, though. Making his second feature as a director after 2014's exceptional Blind, Vogt hones in on childhood, and on the way that kids behave with each other when adults are absent or oblivious — and on tykes and preteens who can wreak havoc solely using their mental faculties. Another riff on Firestarter, this thankfully isn't. The Innocents hasn't simply jumped on the Stranger Things bandwagon, either. Thanks to the latter, on-screen tales about young 'uns battling with the supernatural are one of Hollywood's current favourite trends — see also: the awful Ghostbusters: Afterlife — but all that this Nordic horror movie's group of kids are tussling with is themselves. Their fight starts when nine-year-old Ida (debutant Rakel Lenora Fløttum) and her 11-year-old sister Anna (fellow first-timer Alva Brynsmo Ramstad), who is on the autism spectrum, move to an apartment block in Romsås, Oslo with their mother (Blind's Ellen Dorrit Petersen) and father (Morten Svartveit, Ninjababy). It's summer, the days are long, and the two girls are largely left to their own devices outside in the complex's communal spaces. That's where Ida befriends Aisha (Mina Yasmin Bremseth Asheim) and Ben (Sam Ashraf), albeit not together, and starts to learn about their abilities. One of The Innocents' most astonishing scenes — in a film with many — springs from Ida discovering what the sullen, bullied Ben can do solely with his brain. Indeed, one of Vogt's masterstrokes is focusing on how she reacts to the boy's telekinesis, as demonstrated by flinging around a bottle cap. Ida is almost preternaturally excited, and she's lured in by the thrall of what Ben might be able to do next, even though she can visibly sense that something isn't quite right. Another series of unforgettable moments arises shortly afterward when her new pal, lapping up the attention from his only friend, cruelly and sickeningly shows off without even deploying his superpowers. It's a deeply disturbing turn in a movie that repeatedly isn't afraid to find evident terrors in ordinary, everyday, banal surroundings, and Ida's response — horrified, alarmed, yet unwilling to completely cut ties — again says everything. Vogt doesn't shy away from intimating something that society often doesn't, won't or both: that childhood and innocence don't always go hand in hand. En route to their new home in the film's opening sequence, Ida is already spied pinching the non-verbal Anna just to glean what she'll do. Later, as conveyed in economical imagery lensed by stellar cinematographer Sturla Brandth Grøvlen — who already has Another Round, Last and First Men, Shirley, Rams and Victoria to his name, and uses blood here with haunting precision — she's seen escalating that pain-fulled experimentation in a gutwrenching fashion. This side to the girl's personality isn't played as a twist or shock, and neither are Ben's skills and proclivities, or the friendly Aisha's telepathic powers (including the ability to communicate with Anna). Instead, The Innocents is positively matter of fact about what its pint-sized characters are capable of, and also steadfastly avoids trading in simplistic ideas of good and evil, or offering up neat rationales. It's one thing to bake such complexity into the script, which Vogt does with ease. When it comes to working with children, it's another entirely to have those layers and that eagerness to reside in shades of grey radiate from the cast. All newcomers to the screen, Fløttum, Ramstad, Ashraf and Asheim each manage to possess both relaxed naturalism and heaving texture — like they're not being recorded at all, but also as if they've always belonged in front of the camera, playing out their intricate games. Fløttum's expressive face is particularly striking in capturing The Innocents' eerie yet probing mood, whether Ida is flirting with darkness herself, frightened by what may come, or doing whatever she can to protect her sister and her family. But she's definitely not alone in making chatting without saying a thing, throwing about frying pans without moving a muscle and twisting childhood larks in otherworldly ways feel as commonplace as hitting the sandpit or swing set. They're little alike in vibe and atmosphere — a sense of fairy tale-esque dreaminess aside, although deployed in vastly dissimilar manners — but in stepping into the realms inhabited only by young hearts and minds, The Innocents slides in nicely alongside recent French delight Petite Maman. Both movies let their youthful characters exist in worlds defined only by themselves and their own rules, rather than by ideas and norms outlined by grown-ups. Neither of the two features would ever dare suggest that how its central figures experience life isn't worthy of attention or respect, or comes second to adult routines and woes. And, the pair of flicks also dive into how kids cope with everything that's constantly thrown in their direction, including by each other, with the utmost of seriousness. Here, that includes unpacking the morals they enforce among themselves, and also come to by themselves, but never explaining away something so complicated. In The Innocents, that detailed and disarming portrait of youth sits within a daylight nightmare, too — one that's not quite on the also Scandinavian-set Midsommar's level of chills, but always festers with unease nonetheless. Parallels also lurk with the superb Let the Right One In and its account of an undead tween, with the mental scares inflicted in Carrie and The Shining, and, unsurprisingly, with Thelma, the 2017 film about a university student grappling with inexplicable powers that Vogt wrote with The Worst Person in the World's Joachim Trier. The Innocents stands boldly beside its thematic peers, however, rather than in their shadows. Its various bits and pieces have their predecessors, but its blend of uncanny candour, creepiness, empathy and intelligence is all its own. While an English-language remake is bound to follow, frolicking in this smart and savvy playground again — and making something that doesn't just play like a cookie-cutter superhero origin flick at best (yes, the recent Firestarter comes to mind once more) — won't be an easy feat.
With a great superhero character comes a great responsibility — to sling everyone's favourite friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man onto screens as often as possible, it seems. That's been the case for two decades now, ever since Tobey Maguire first donned the red-and-blue suit. Indeed, from 2002 onwards, nine different dedicated Spider-Man flicks have graced cinemas. Maguire did the honours three times, including in 2004 and 2007. Andrew Garfield became Peter Parker in 2012's The Amazing Spider-Man and 2014's The Amazing Spider-Man 2: Rise of Electro, too. And, of course, Tom Holland is the current iteration, with three standalone movies — Spider-Man: Homecoming, Spider-Man: Far From Home and Spider-Man: No Way Home on his resume. Oh, and there's also the best Spider-Man film of the lot of them: the animated Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. That's a whole clutter of Spideys, and we're reminding you of this because all of those nine features are coming to the Astor Theatre for one huge web-slinging day and night. Get ready to stick yourself to the cinema's seats to watch your way through every single one in a big 16.5-hour sitting that the venue is aptly calling Spider-Thon. From 1pm on Saturday, June 16, your spider sense will be tingling. You'll then spend hours upon hours seeing three actors and a heap of pixels do everything a spider can. Spider-Thon is only focusing on dedicated Spidey flicks, so there's no Marvel Cinematic Universe movies on the bill where he pops up but isn't in the title — otherwise you'd be watching Spider-Man movies for weeks.
To look at John Shipton is to see the obvious, even if you've never laid eyes upon him before. The family resemblance is immediately clear, and the traits that've likely been passed down from father to son — determination and persistence, blatantly — become apparent within minutes. Shipton needs to be resolute for the battle that documentary Ithaka captures. It's a fight that's been waged for a decade now, publicly, and not just in embassies and courtrooms but across news headlines worldwide. He's visibly Julian Assange's dad, and he's been helping spearhead the campaign for the WikiLeaks founder's release. Assange fell afoul of US authorities in 2010, when his non-profit whistleblower organisation published documents about the American military's war crimes leaked by army intelligence analyst Chelsea Manning. As Ithaka makes plain, The Guardian, The New York Times and Der Spiegel revealed the same information at the same time; however, only Assange now sits in London's Belmarsh prison. Plenty about the past 12 years since Manning's leaks were exposed to the world is filled with numbers. Plenty about the ten years this June since Assange first took refuge in the Embassy of Ecuador in London is as well. The Australian editor and publisher spent almost seven years in that diplomatic space, seeking political asylum from sexual misconduct allegations in Sweden that he contended would be used to extradite him to America. If the US succeeds in its efforts, and in its espionage charges against him, he faces up to 175 years in incarceration. The list of figures goes on, but filmmaker Ben Lawrence (Hearts and Bones) makes two pivotal choices. Firstly, he surveys Assange's current struggle not through the Aussie himself, but through both Shipton and Stella Moris, his South African-born lawyer and now wife. Secondly, although those aforementioned numbers are inescapable, the riveting and affecting Ithaka brings humanity to this well-publicised plight. Moris herself sums up the movie's position best at the unveiling of a statue of Assange in Geneva. "I'm here to remind you that Julian isn't a name, he isn't a symbol; he's a man and he's suffering," she says. It's a reminder that Ithaka's audience might need, given how ubiquitous Assange's tale has become, including on-screen — in fellow docos We Steal Secrets: The Story of WikiLeaks and Risk, and in dramas Underground: The Julian Assange Story and The Fifth Estate — and how polarising he has proven. Risk attempted to grapple with his contradictions, but Ithaka almost deems them irrelevant. Lawrence doesn't dismiss, excuse or pander; rather, he knows that Shipton and Moris' point remains regardless: that how Assange has been treated for receiving and publishing information is a human rights abuse, as well as an attack on the freedom of the press. That notion echoes again and again in Ithaka alongside its rousing soundtrack by Brian Eno, and with passion; to look at both Shipton and Moris is to see the fervour blazing tirelessly in their eyes, too. Making his second documentary after 2018's Ghosthunter, Lawrence fills the bulk of his naturalistically shot frames with the pair working against Assange's possible extradition, and for justice, with that avid gleam given ample opportunities to keep burning. Again, among the litany of opinions that he's evoked over the years, the idea that the Australian deserves life in prison for distributing Manning's intel to the world — or that anyone does — shouldn't have a place. Ithaka's allegiances are never in doubt, even without knowing that Assange's brother Gabriel Shipton is one of its producers, but giving time to the WikiLeaks creator's critics wouldn't and couldn't have changed its core position. Lawrence knows what everyone watching knows, though: that the mantra behind the movie isn't a new one. Accordingly, the film shows as much as it tells — leaving the telling to Shipton, Moris and talking-head interviewees; and having cinematographer Niels Ladefoged (an assistant editor on the original Swedish The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo) deeply and carefully observe the minutiae around Ithaka's core duo. The documentary can veer towards the procedural as a result, including when Moris works through a desperate and ultimately unsuccessful plan to get then-US President Donald Trump to issue a pardon. It's always personal, of course; that Assange is primarily present as a voice on the phone, aka exactly how his father and wife have interacted with him during his time at Belmarsh, especially after the pandemic hit, only makes that feeling all the more evident. Shipton and Moris have long stressed the stakes for Assange — Moris' Geneva remarks are just one such instance captured in the feature — but Ithaka is equally concerned with the impact upon the pair. It doesn't just use the two as a different access point into this now-familiar story, but to illustrate the emotional and psychological burden that falls upon them as they crusade, lobby and also worry. As Assange's legal battles are prolonged, septuagenarian Shipton loses time with his five-year-old daughter in Australia, while Moris raises her two children with Assange alone. Alongside tenacity, weariness lingers in their eyes as well. It's there, noticeably, when Shipton rankles against pointless or ill-thought-out questions, and when he's ceaselessly direct in response. Assange's case continues; he awaits the latest ruling in his efforts to avoid extradition, a matter that's been before the courts for years now. Previously, it was decreed that his mental health would suffer, and he'd be a suicide risk in the conditions that'd greet him in America; however, the US government has kept pressing, winning a High Court judgement in its favour in late 2021, while Assange's team keeps fighting back. Ithaka overtly aims to raise awareness; the documentary is an act of activism as much as a portrait of Shipton and Moris. It's engrossing and fascinating, too, plus powerful viewing on a subject, and a person, that's rarely been far from the media's gaze for the bulk of this century — but not like this.
UPDATE, November 25, 2022: The Northman is available to stream via Binge, Prime Video, Google Play, YouTube Movies and iTunes. Satanic goats don't talk in The Northman. Heartthrobs don't masturbate while fondling mermaid figurines, either. Still, within ten minutes, pre-teen Viking prince Amleth (Oscar Novak, The Batman), his glory-seeking warrior father King Aurvandil War-Raven (Ethan Hawke, Moon Knight) and jester-meets-shaman Heimir (Willem Dafoe, Nightmare Alley) descend into a fire-lit cave to take hallucinogens, growl, grunt, bark like wolves and fart like it's a god-given superpower. If viewers didn't know who's behind this bold, brutal, brilliant, and blood- and guts-strewn Scandinavian opus before then, there's no doubt from this trippy scene onwards: after The Witch and The Lighthouse, writer/director Robert Eggers' touch, approach and style have become that distinctive just three remarkable features into his helming career. As he first demonstrated with his potent pilgrim horror movie, then doubled down on with his mesmerising oceanside nightmare, Eggers crafts chaotic celluloid dreams about faith- and sanity-stretching dances with madness and mania. He makes features so striking that they're haunting, rippling with the devotedly realistic and the hypnotically occult in tandem. Eggers' work isn't merely meticulously tense and atmospheric; it proves blisteringly visceral to the point of feeling inescapably tangible. Indeed, his steadfast commitment to authenticity spirits the whole concept of immersive filmmaking high into movie Valhalla. See: the vivid period-appropriate detail in The Northman's Nordic villages, which'd only be more evocative if they'd time-travelled in from the ninth and tenth centuries. Sense: the entrancing swirl that springs from all of the above, complete with Eggers' unfailing idiosyncrasies. Experience: the sublime tussle with myth, fantasy and folklore that results, as it has in each of his features, to both plunge into and interrogate his history-set reveries. In this untamed and laid-bare portrait of the past, something is rotten in the state of Iceland — as it was in Denmark via William Shakespeare, and in the Pride Lands of Africa in both versions of The Lion King. Writing The Northman's screenplay with poet, novelist and Björk collaborator Sjón (Lamb), Eggers takes his cues not from Hamlet, however, but from the Old Norse legend of Amleth that inspired the iconic tragedy. The narrative still involves a son anointed to be the future king, a tragedy that shatters his regal family, and a dastardly uncle who gets murderous to seize the throne and his brother's wife, of course. And, it keeps following its protagonist as he wages a determined odyssey of feral revenge against the man who reshaped his fate so ruthlessly. "I will avenge you, father. I will save you, mother. I will kill you, Fjölnir." That's Amleth's vow as a boy on a north Atlantic island in 895 when he witnesses the latter's (Claes Bang, Locked Down) treachery. He flees after hearing his uncle bay for his head, too, and seeing him carry off Queen Gudrún (Nicole Kidman, Being the Ricardos) as a spoil of his victory. Two decades later, Amleth (Alexander Skarsgård, Succession) is a hulking, wolfskin-clad Viking berserker, living life flinging whatever weaponry he can find while viciously pillaging through the lands of the Rus. But amid the bloodlust, gore and piling-up body count, the intense marauder is thrust back onto his vengeance-seeking path. A Slavic seeress (Björk, in her first film role since 2005) whispers stark truths about his current savagery and lapsed mission against Fjölnir, reigniting his yearning for that promised slaughter — and the single-minded behemoth learns that his uncle is now sheep-farming in Iceland, having lost the kingdom in another coup. A line from Hamlet comes to mind: "now could I drink hot blood". By the time Amleth brands himself to pass as a prisoner of war, slips onto a slave ship and ensures he's among the new captives at Fjölnir's ranch, he's already literally done just that. But his thirst for honouring his father, rescuing his mother and slaying his uncle remains unquenched, and he soon has help from and the heart of fellow servant Olga (Anya Taylor-Joy, who scored her big break with The Witch alongside Eggers). How that quest eventuates won't surprise anyone familiar with the Bard, but The Northman still astonishes again and again. As only visionary filmmakers can, Eggers refuses to take any expected turn or make a single predictable move even while playing with a plot that's long spilled its thrills across popular culture, and while slashing into a genre — Viking epics — that's rarely far from screens. High among The Northman's joys and wonders, both large and small, sits its cast — with Skarsgård fulfilling a decade-plus journey from playing True Blood vampire Eric Northman to both starring in and producing this, which he's been trying to bring to fruition for just as long. His muscular power and presence as the epitome of rage and revenge is pulsating, not to mention physically commanding, and buying Amleth as the lacerating spirit of both a wolf and a bear is one of the easiest things about the film. His Big Little Lies co-star Kidman also turns in a ferocious performance, and the pair's evolution from that TV hit's husband-and-wife dynamic to this flick's unhinged mother-and-son duo drips with the requisite Oedipal creepiness. Elsewhere, Bang does brooding villainy like he's born to it, as he showed in Dracula; 22 years after playing Hamlet himself, Hawke delivers a 20-minute supporting-player masterclass; and the inimitable Taylor-Joy ensures that no one else could ever be pictured in her pivotal part. Plus, that Eggers finds small roles for The Witch's Kate Dickie and Ralph Ineson doesn't go unnoticed. A ravaging rampage of a film — a movie beating with unshakeable fury, as metal a Viking saga that's ever likely to be made, and equally thunderous and off-kilter — Eggers' best feature yet wouldn't be what it is without its weight and spectacle, though. It's a picture of brusque poetry in its dialogue, its curt lines laden with importance but never trite (Amleth's stated juggling act to find "kindness for my kin and hate for my enemies" included). It's a work of elemental potency in its sweepingly shot imagery, with cinematographer Jarin Blaschke (a veteran of all three of the director's films) painting with light, the stunning landscapes, and the wind, rain, snow, mud, fire and ash that lurks upon it. That's true in the head-splitting game of Knattleikr that makes just one primal centrepiece, the climactic naked volcano sword fight and the many supernatural-laced sights in-between. And, it all contributes to a breathtaking cinematic onslaught that savvily turns hellishness into movie heaven — all without shying away from the costs and sacrifices of Amleth's crusade; serving up a simplistic revenge fantasy; or excusing, glorifying or downplaying the relentless violence that informs every moment.
Prefer a hi-fi sort of Sunday session to basic beers at the pub? Well, you're in luck because Poodle Bar & Bistro is here to elevate your weekend with a fresh instalment of its ever-popular Patio Party. The Fitzroy spot will be serving up the goods once again this Sunday, February 5, complete with special guests in tow. Kicking off from 2pm, it's set to be a two-level affair with refreshments to suit all kinds of weekend cravings. Upstairs, you'll catch the crew from Hector's Deli slinging a few of their cult-favourite sandwich creations which you can pair with drinks from Romeo Lane's cocktail-shaking legend Joe Jones. Alternatively, mosey on out to the patio to feast on grilled goodies courtesy of Club Kitchen. As for the drinks, consider yourself equally spoilt for choice. A low intervention-leaning wine selection is being curated by Dazma Wine Company, while the folks at Sopra Seltzer will be cracking open a few of their latest fizzy flavours. Plus, Poodle's own bar will have plenty of other tipples to round out the fun. All that to enjoy alongside sounds from the day's lineup of guest DJs — Simon TK, Salvador Ricardo, DJ Sarah, Georgia Bird and Alessio Latina. Tickets are an easy $10, with eats and drinks to purchase as you go. [caption id="attachment_887476" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Joe Jones[/caption]
The actors have it: in The Whale, Brendan Fraser (No Sudden Move), Hong Chau (The Menu) and Sadie Sink (Stranger Things) are each masterful, and each in their own way. For viewers unaware that this drama about a reclusive 600-pound English professor stems from the stage going in, it won't take long to realise — for multiple reasons, the film's performances chief among them. As penned by Samuel D Hunter (also a writer on TV's Baskets) from his award-winning semi-autobiographical play, The Whale's script is talky and blunt. The movie is confined to its protagonist Charlie's home, and is as claustrophobic as it's meant to be as a result. But it's that key acting trio, with the portrayals they splash through a flick that's a complicated sea of feelings and ideas, that helps The Whale swim when it swims. Yes, the Brenaissance is upon us, showering Fraser in accolades including his first-ever Oscar nod; however, fellow Academy Award-nominee Chau and rising star Sink are equally as powerful. Is it really the Brenaissance if Fraser hasn't ever been too far from our screens for too long? When he was recently stellar in 2021's No Sudden Move, albeit in a supporting part? Given that it's been decades since he's had the space and the feature to serve up this kind of lead effort, the answer remains yes. Slip his The Whale performance in beside standout 2002 thriller The Quiet American — although the latter didn't place The Mummy action star and Encino Man comedic force beneath considerable prosthetics. Fraser doesn't let his appearance here do all the work, though. Filmmaker Darren Aronofsky, who hones in on the stressed and tested as he has so frequently before (see: Requiem for a Dream, Black Swan, The Wrestler and mother!), doesn't allow it to, either. At the core of the pair's collaboration is a portrayal that overflows with vulnerability and grief alongside optimism for humanity, and acutely fuses Charlie's emotional and physical states. The character self-mockingly jokes that his internal organs are buried deep, but nothing conceals Fraser's sensitivity. It's with a lone black square that The Whale initially explains Charlie's relationship with the world: on online calls with his students, he's represented by a void of a tile. He claims that his webcam is broken, but he's actively hiding — from his pupils' reactions and from facing his sorrow. Other than these digital lectures, visits from his friend and nurse Liz (Chau) to check on his wellbeing and deliver food, and daily pizza drops from a driver instructed to leave the slices outside, Charlie has withdrawn from everything beyond his first-floor apartment when the film begins. That said, The Whale isn't a portrait of a man who is sad and has shut himself off because he is overweight. Rather, it's an exploration of someone who has an eating disorder because he is heartbroken by a tragedy, relying upon food compulsively to cope, and to process his doubts and regrets over his decisions and their ramifications. Friedrich Nietzsche's aphorism "what does not kill me makes me stronger" is flipped here: after the death of his partner Alan, who he left his ex-wife Mary (Samantha Morton, She Said) and now-teenage daughter Ellie (Sink) to be with, Charlie is using the sustenance we all need for strength and survival as his escape route. His sense of self has been slain by his loss, and so has his willingness to go on. It isn't just to ramp up tension or establish that obesity can spark high blood pressure and heart attacks that The Whale has its central figure doubling over with chest pains while he's masturbating early in the feature. With the film's narrative unfurling day by day, the incident sets a ticking clock, but most importantly it sees Charlie refuse to go to hospital. When she arrives, Liz insists, but he still won't agree. In this specific character study, he's that steadfast — and, even as he tries to reconnect with the bitter Ellie and spouts hope for humankind's ability to care, he's that intensely unhappy without Alan. Indeed, if it wasn't for missionary Thomas (Ty Simpkins, Avengers: Endgame), who conveniently comes a-knocking for the New Life church spouting a message about the end of times, Charlie wouldn't make it to The Whale's second act. Instead of asking the soul-searching young man to phone an ambulance, he makes a request that seems inexplicable while he's struggling for breath: to read aloud from an essay about Moby-Dick. The film gains its title from and shares its sense of search with Herman Melville's famous novel, as Charlie battles the behemoth that is his own complicated, constantly contrasting and conflicted feelings. The link isn't subtle. Again, The Whale isn't usually subtle. For another case in point, hear: Rob Simonsen's (Ghostbusters: Afterlife) emotion-shouting score. But Fraser always conveys Charlie's pain like it's pumping through the actor's own veins, and proves devastatingly and movingly effective at balancing bright-eyed charm with piercing melancholy. While The Whale both demands and deploys Fraser's best — in tender moments, in dialogue-heavy exchanges and in his physical performance alike — it leaves ample room for Chau and Sink to make an imprint. Aronofsky may task his regular cinematographer Matthew Libatique (also a Don't Worry Darling alum) with boxing in Fraser via the constricting Academy ratio, often offering very little visible space around him, but Chau's distressed pal and Sink's cruel daughter remain pivotal to this story. What does it mean to want contentment and safety for a loved one who seeks the opposite for himself? To bear the hurt of someone else's choices? To have either your daily existence or your identity, or both, forged by another's decisions? In Chau's direct, kindhearted but quietly anguished turn, and in Sink's openly, flippantly brutal reactions as Ellie, The Whale compassionately plunges into these questions. It should come as little surprise that Aronofsky's eighth film is at its finest when it lets Fraser, Chau and Sink verbally bounce off of each other — when it's unpacking the feelings boiling in Charlie's grimly lit, amber-hued flat, and examining how every life's ups and downs ebb and flow into others. Finding insights in clashing people, attitudes and concepts is The Whale's approach in general, including in its use of darkness and light; handling of religion and salvation; survey of Charlie's internal and external suffering; and attempts to wade into stress- and binge-eating, consumption as a coping mechanism, and body-shaming responses to any departure from societal standards of beauty. Charlie himself chases meaning in the same type of chaos and contradictions, pinning his hopes as his days wane on a last-minute reunion with Ellie. In that fiery confrontation, as in every single one at the heart of The Whale, nothing is easy.
Move aside, mimosas — there's a new bottomless brunch in town and this one's all about the caffeinated cocktails. Spanish liqueur brand Licor 43 is dropping into Melbourne and teaming up with Southbank's Asado for a new limited-edition Saturday brunch session fuelled by free-flowing coffee concoctions. The Spanish and Argentinian restaurant is dishing up its Bottomless Coffee Cocktail Brunch every Saturday from February 18–March 18. For the headline act, you'll catch two different signature cocktails heroing the perfect pairing of coffee and Licor 43: the Shaken Espresso 43 and the rum-infused Tiki 43. There's also a sangria if you're not on the caffeine bandwagon. Meanwhile, you'll be feasting on a generous spread of dishes from the Asado kitchen, starring the likes of ocean trout ceviche, house-made empanadas, roast chicken with salsa brava, and dulce de leche-filled alfajores for dessert. You've got a two-hour sitting to enjoy your feed and the free-flowing cocktails, with the whole thing clocking in at $130. Tables are available to book online.
Three nights, five iconic movies, one glorious blast from the past: that's the maths behind Not-So-Silent Cinema. A collaboration between ACMI and Federation Square — and screening at the latter, too — this outdoor season showcases iconic silent films for free under the stars. Even better: they're all playing with live soundtracks. Silent cinema didn't mean ditching all sound completely a century back, after all, and it definitely doesn't now. So, while you sit in a deckchair and peer at Fed Square's big screen between Friday, December 2–Sunday, December 4, you'll be listening to something ace as you watch. Each session kicks off at 8pm, starting on Friday with 1902's science-fiction delight Le voyage dans la lune (A Trip to the Moon), which screens alongside Buster Keaton's 1922 short Cops and Milt Gross' 1930 effort He Done Her Wrong. On music duty: American-born jazz saxophonist and composer Phillip Johnston and his quartet. Then, on Saturday you can catch Carl Theodor Dreyer's influential feature 1932 Vampyr, which will get a brand-new soundtrack from Melbourne-based DJ and composer Chiara Kickdrum. And, on the Sunday, Teinosuke Kinugasa's 1926 movie A Page of Madness will play accompanied by an electronic score performed by Marcus Whale and Jacques Emery. An added bonus as part of the fun: free ice cream from Cups n Cones. There'll be gelato and sorbet, with nine flavours on offer from 7.30–9.30pm each night until they're all gone — with a limit of one per person.
Get ready to hop into the mosh pit like its the 90s and early 00s at massive alternative, metal and punk music fest Good Things, which is living up to its name with its ace 2022 lineup. Headlining the tour are Bring Me The Horizon and Deftones, plus NOFX — who'll be playing 1994's iconic album Punk In Drublic in full. They'll also be joined by The Amity Affliction, Gojira and Millencolin, spanning everything from Queensland favourites to infectious Swedish punk. Oh, and just none other than Australia's own TISM playing their first live shows in 19 years. Will TISM take to the stage naked? That's now the question of the summer. 'Tis the season — and the times in general — for Ron Hitler-Barassi and company to drop their clothes but keep their masks, after all. Whatever they're decked out in, or not, expect plenty of legendary Aussie songs. Expect to have 'Greg! The Stop Sign!', 'Whatareya' and 'Ol' Man River' stuck in your head right now as well, obviously. Good Things' impressive bill also features Kisschasy playing 2005's United Paper People in full, fellow Aussie faves Regurgitator — because, just like the 90s and 00s, it wouldn't be a festival without them — and Lacuna Coil, Soulfly, ONE OK ROCK, 3OH!3, Cosmic Psychos and more. The fest is headed to Melbourne's Flemington Racecourse on Friday, December 2. Whether you're a yob or a wanker, you'll want to be there. GOOD THINGS 2022 LINEUP: Bring Me The Horizon Deftones NOFX (performing Punk In Drublic in full) TISM The Amity Affliction Gojira ONE OK ROCK Millencolin Polaris Sabaton 3OH!3 Blood Command Chasing Ghosts Cosmic Psychos Electric Callboy Fever 333 Jinjer JXDN Kisschasy (performing United Paper People in full) Lacuna Coil Nova Twins RedHook Regurgitator Sleeping With Sirens Soulfly The Story So Far Thornhill
Some people love Christmas. Others adore winter. Easter's excuse to eat chocolate also has its fans. But if you like all things spooky and scary — if you know your Michael Myers from your Jason Voorhees, too — then October is the happiest time of each and every year, even though it's also the creepiest. Leaning into the unsettling season in a big way: The Astor Theatre, which is dedicating the month to eerie flicks. Horror movie diehards will find unnerving classics new and old on the lineup at Shocktober: A Month-Long Superscreen Horror Show. Some of the program's titles, you will have seen countless times. Others, you might've always meant to get around to — or haven't had the chance to enjoy on the big screen (let alone the Chapel Street picture palace's screen) just yet. The 80s duo that is The Lost Boys and the OG A Nightmare on Elm Street kicks Shocktober off on Saturday, October 1, with single sessions, doubles features, triples and overnight movie marathon The Great Astor Spooktacular — The Sequel all part of the shenanigans. And while there isn't necessarily a showing every day of the month, there's more than enough on the bill — 50-plus titles, in fact — to make up for the rare horror film-free days before Monday, October 31. Other highlights include recent gems Crimes of the Future and Mandy on one ace night, a blast from the 1920s past with killer classics Nosferatu and Häxan, and the original Hocus Pocus running amok, amok, amok. Or, catch both The Shining and followup Doctor Sleep, go a little mad with Psycho, and lap up the Japanese double of Hausu and Onibaba. Elsewhere, the first Scream screens alongside this year's new Scream, Beetlejuice and The Little Shop of Horrors will make for an entertaining pair, and Jordan Peele lovers can enjoy Nope, Us and Get Out all on the same evening. Then, on the big date itself, capping off the lineup: the meta horror fun of The Cabin in the Woods.
The loss of Flinders Lane dining institution Ezard has been somewhat tempered by the arrival of the site's new tenant, a Melbourne outpost of Sydney's much-loved Mediterranean restaurant Nomad. But if you're still feeling glum about it, you've got another chance to say your final farewells, because the two venues are teaming up to host a one-off collaboration dinner. Well, it's actually a 'two-off', since tickets to the original date were snapped up so quickly the team decided to add a second. The dinner with seats still available is happening the following night, on Wednesday, September 14. If you snap up one of these final remaining tickets, you're in for a memorable 10-course feast that pays homage to both the past and the future, pairing familiar Ezard stylings with the smoky, fire-driven approach for which Nomad is known. Expect creative dishes like a Szechuan-inspired wood-roasted beetroot tart, scallop wontons with tom kha and smoked salmon roe, sumac lamb matched with eggplant and sweet and sour pomegranate, and a special collaborative ice cream sandwich. Tickets are $300, which includes matched wines and a take-home gift featuring signature goodies from each venue. Top Image: Nomad Melbourne, by Sharyn Cairns.
What's more believable — and plot twists follow: a pre-teen playing a 33-year-old woman pretending to be a nine-year-old orphan, with a hormone disorder explaining the character's eerily youthful appearance; or an adult playing a 31-year-old woman pretending to be a lost child returned at age nine, again with that medical condition making everyone else oblivious? For viewers of 2009's Orphan and its 13-years-later follow-up Orphan: First Kill, which is a prequel, neither are particularly credible to witness. But the first film delivered its age trickery as an off-kilter final-act reveal, as paired with a phenomenal performance by then 12-year-old Isabelle Fuhrman in the pivotal role. Audiences bought the big shift — or remembered it, at least — because Fuhrman was so creepy and so committed to the bit, and because it suited the OTT horror-thriller. This time, that wild revelation is old news, but that doesn't stop Orphan: First Kill from leaning on the same two key pillars: an out-there turn of events and fervent portrayals. Fuhrman (The Novice) returns as Esther, the Estonian adult who posed as a parentless Russian girl in the initial feature. In Orphan: First Kill, she's introduced as Leena Klammer, the most dangerous resident at the Saarne Institute mental hospital. The prequel's first sighted kill comes early, as a means of escape. The second follows swiftly, because the film needs to get its central figure to the US. Fans of the previous picture will recall that Esther already had a troubled history when she was adopted and started wreaking the movie's main havoc, involving the family that brought her to America — and her time with that brood, aka wealthy Connecticut-based artist Allen Albright (Rossif Sutherland, Possessor), his gala-hosting wife Tricia (Julia Stiles, Hustlers) and their teen son Gunnar (Matthew Finlan, My Fake Boyfriend), is this flick's focus. Like their counterparts in Orphan, the Albrights have suffered a loss and are struggling to move on. When Leena poses as their missing daughter Esther, Allen especially seems like his old self again. As also happened in Orphan, however, the pigtail- and ribbon-wearing new addition to their home doesn't settle in smoothly. Orphan: First Kill repeats the original movie's greatest hits, including the arty doting dad, the wary brother, taunts labelling Esther a freak and a thorny relationship with her mum. Also covered: suspicious external parties, bathroom tantrums, swearing to get attention and spying on her parents having sex. And yes, anyone who has seen Orphan knows how this all turns out, and that it leads to the above again in Orphan, too. Thankfully, that's only part of Orphan: First Kill's narrative. Twists can be curious narrative tools; sometimes they're inspired, sometimes they're a crutch propping up a flimsy screenplay, and sometimes they seesaw between both. Orphan: First Kill tumbles gleefully into the latter category, thanks to a revelation midway that's patently ridiculous — although no more ridiculous than Orphan earning a follow-up in the first place — and also among the best things about the movie. It's a big risk, making a film that's initially so laughably formulaic that it just seems lazy, then letting a sudden switch completely change the game, the tone and the audience's perception of what's transpired so far. That proved a charm for the thoroughly unrelated Malignant in 2021, and it's a gamble that filmmaker William Brent Bell (The Boy and Brahms: The Boy II) and screenwriter David Coggeshall (Scream: The TV Series) take. Working with a story by David Leslie Johnson-McGoldrick (The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It) and Alex Mace (who earned the same credit on the original), it's one of their savviest choices. Another crucial decision that would've shattered the film had it gone the other way: getting Fuhrman back. Given she's now definitely an adult, it's downright preposterous to buy her as passing for nine, Lizzie Borden dresses and all — but with the jig already up for viewers before this flick even begins, that visible discrepancy adds another sinister layer to everything Esther gets up to. Yes, Bell and cinematographer Karim Hussain (Firestarter) are toying with everyone watching just like their evil protagonist does, not only with the Albrights but with unconvinced Detective Donnan (Hiro Kanagawa, Pachinko) and doubtful Dr Segar (Samantha Walkes, Murdoch Mysteries) as well. Fuhrman makes you want to go along with the gambit; she's again a force to be reckoned with as the malevolent, manipulative miniature psychopath, playing her part with equal parts steely determination and calm-faced derangement, and with the help of camera angles and practical effects to keep up the act. Bell knows that Orphan's twist is now as familiar as those in The Sixth Sense, The Planet of the Apes and Soylent Green. He also knows that Orphan is more famous for how it ends than being a genre standout otherwise, which it isn't. And, he knows that viewers are aware that Fuhrman is now an adult portraying an adult impersonating a child, rather than a child portraying a woman professing to be a kid. That also works emotionally for Orphan: First Kill, laying the groundwork for its own change of direction. In Orphan, Esther always resembles a brattish girl, even when she drops her disguise, and sympathising with her adoptive mother's anguish comes easily. Here, she's clearly an adult, and wondering why her ruse seems to work so smoothly also comes with the territory. Orphan didn't just boast one big performance, of course, and neither does Orphan: First Kill. More Julia Stiles in all things is always welcome, including when she's dealing with demonic tykes as she also did in The Omen remake. The twist she's saddled with here is inescapably silly, but Stiles has a glorious amount of fun with it — and helps answer the question that hangs over the film's first half (that'd be "why is Julia Stiles in this?"). She isn't quite enough to justify Orphan: First Kill's existence, and nor is Fuhrman repeating her first big success, the new surprise development that the whole picture hinges on, all the callbacks or the whole origin-story vibe. The world didn't really need to know why Esther likes blacklight paintings or where she first got her ribbons, which adds zero depth to the franchise. Attempting to evoke empathy for the murder-happy figure doesn't strike the chord it's meant to, either. But that revelation is still worth discovering, and Fuhrman and Stiles' performances are still worth watching, in a movie that knows it's a lurid and needless second effort — and happily leans in.
Movie buffs who like to theme their viewing around the relevant time of year — holiday-related, primarily — are always spoiled for choice. Christmas films, spooky flicks at Halloween, Easter-relevant fare: you can build a binge session or several out of all of them. The same applies to Thanksgiving, all courtesy of the US, and The Humans is the latest addition to the November-appropriate list. This A24 release ticks a few clearcut boxes, in fact, including bringing a dysfunctional multi-generation family together to celebrate the date, steeping their get-together in the kind of awkwardness that always stalks relatives, and having big revelations spill over the course of the gathering (the calendar-mandated time for such disclosures, pouring out before the tryptophan kicks in). That said, even with such evident servings of underlying formula, The Humans is far creepier and more haunting than your usual movie about America's turkey-eating time of year. A hefty helping of existential horror will do that. Based on Stephen Karam's Tony-winning 2016 Broadway play — a Pulitzer Prize finalist as well — and adapted and directed for the screen by Karam himself, The Humans is downright unsettling, and for a few reasons. There's the tension zipping back and forth between everyone in attendance, of course — as crucial an ingredient at every Thanksgiving party as food, booze and warm bodies to consume them, at least if films are to be believed. There's also the bleak, claustrophobic, run-down setting, with the movie confined to a New York apartment close to Ground Zero, which aspiring composer Brigid (Beanie Feldstein, Booksmart) and her student boyfriend Richard (Steven Yeun, Nope) have just moved into at significant expense. And, there's the strange sounds emanating from other units, and perhaps this creaking, groaning, two-storey abode itself, which couldn't feel less welcoming. As a result, seasonal cheer is few and far between in this corner of Manhattan, where the Blake family congregates dutifully rather than agreeably or even welcomely. Also making an appearance: parents Deirdre (Only Murders in the Building's Jayne Houdyshell, reprising her Tony-winning part) and Erik (Richard Jenkins, DAHMER — Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story), Brigid's lawyer older sister Aimee (Amy Schumer, Life & Beth), and their grandmother Momo (June Squibb, Palmer), who has dementia and uses a wheelchair. No one is happy, and everyone seems to have something that needs airing — slowly and reluctantly when it's a matter of importance, but freely and cuttingly when it's a snap judgement directed at others. Watching The Humans, the audience hopes that no one has truly had a Thanksgiving like this, while knowing how well its fraught dynamic hits the mark. Thanks to Richard, film first-timer Karam has a straightforward way to start doling out backstory — a time-honoured function of fresh attendees to on-screen family dos, and not just in movies about Thanksgiving. Erik chats, filling the newcomer in, although the talk between everyone dishes out plenty of handy details. Religious and political affiliations cause strains, as do booze and money. The clash between the big city, where the Blake family daughters now live, and their hometown of Scranton, Pennsylvania also informs the discussions. Health woes, relationship struggles, generation clashes, expecting more both from and of each other but getting less: that's the baseline. Brigid stews about not being given enough cash by her parents, and therefore jeopardising her career dreams; Aimee frets about treading water at work, being alone and a medical condition; Deirdre's conservative leanings bristle against her daughters' decisions; and Erik clearly has a secret. As anxious and agitated as the situation is — and as peppered with passive aggression and outbursts alike — there's always another feeling lurking throughout the barely furnished flat. That physical, visible, inescapable emptiness also speaks volumes about Brigid, Richard and their guests, but it's impossible to shake the sensation that this might've been a joyful affair in any other location. The same troubles and attitudes would exist, and the same players, but there's no avoiding how their grim surroundings are amplifying their bickering. When they're being guarded, coy, reserved or reticent (at times, they all fit) about the things they're keeping from each other, the apartment looms large with space and desolation. When they're flinging truths back and forth, it's tight and distressed. Or, is it actually just a regular old and dilapidated place in a crushing rental market, and it's the evening's occupants and their torment that's bringing the unease? For a film so firmly grounded in one location, to the point that the cliche about the setting being a character in the movie applies, The Humans can be slippery. Is Karam's setup as simple as a family squabbling? Is there more, or do we just want there to be more because that quarrelling — and the dancing around it, when that's the Blakes' preferred option — is so discomforting? They're the questions that dwell in the unit, which cinematographer Lol Crawley (Vox Lux) shoots like it's both dispiritingly ordinary and unshakeably otherworldly. Frequently, the film looks on from afar within the space as well, framing Brigid and company through doorways that make everything resemble a show. Sometimes, it hones in on physical minutiae as conversations play out. Are all family get-togethers performances? Do we all cling close out of habit and expectation, but keep ourselves distanced by nattering about the trivial and inconsequential? They're queries that hang heavy in the stilted air, too. As The Humans stretches on, discussions about dreams and nightmares prove revealing. The feature also points out the thin line between both, whether we're slumbering or waking, several times over in its talky frames. No one on-screen really needs reminding; that's where they're caught, even if just emotionally. Across the board, The Humans' performances are similarly anchored and weighty — whatever's going on around the Blakes or isn't, the pervasive dread keeps everyone trapped and festering, and Karam's six key cast members all play their parts accordingly. The effect is compelling, especially when paired with disquieting sound design straight out of a psychological thriller. Let's be honest, isn't that all holiday celebrations with the family anyway?
Sometimes, they do still make 'em like they used to: action-adventure rom-coms in this case. Drive a DeLorean back to 1984, to the year before Robert Zemeckis made DeLoreans one of the most famous types of movie cars ever, and the director's Romancing the Stone did huge box-office business — and it's that hit that The Lost City keenly tries to emulate. This new Sandra Bullock- and Channing Tatum-starring romp doesn't hide that aim for a second, and even uses the same broad overall setup. Once again, a lonely romance novelist is swept up in a chaotic adventure involving treasure, a jungle-hopping jaunt and a stint of kidnapping, aka exactly what she writes about in her best-selling books. The one big change: the writer is held hostage, rather than her sister. But if you've seen Romancing the Stone, you know what you're in for. Movies that blandly and generically recreate/riff on/rip off others will never be gleaming cinematic jewels; the good news is that The Lost City is neither dull nor dispiritingly derivative. Cinema has literally been there and done this before, but directors Aaron and Adam Nee (Band of Robbers) are gleefully aware of that fact and don't even pretend to pretend otherwise. Rather, they wink, nod, serve up a knowing tribute to the 80s fare they're following, and repeatedly make it as blatant as can be that everything they're doing is by design. Their tone is light, bouncy and breezy. Their cast, which also spans Daniel Radcliffe and a delightfully scene-stealing Brad Pitt, is always on that wavelength. Indeed, swap out the vibe or The Lost City's four biggest on-screen names and the film would fall apart, especially without Bullock and Tatum's charisma and chemistry. With them all, it remains by the numbers but also terrifically likeable. As penned by the Nees, Oren Uziel (Mortal Kombat) and Dana Fox (Cruella) — based on a story by Baywatch director Seth Gordon — The Lost City's plot is ridiculously easy to spot. Also, it's often flat-out ridiculous. Anyone who has ever seen any kind of flick along the same lines, such as Jungle Cruise most recently, will quickly see that Loretta Sage (Bullock, The Unforgivable), this movie's protagonist, could've penned it herself. Once she finds herself living this type of narrative, that truth isn't lost on her, either. First, though, she's five years into a grief-stricken reclusive spell, and is only out in the world promoting her new release because her publisher Beth (Da'Vine Joy Randolph, The United States vs Billie Holiday) forces her to. She's also far from happy at being stuck once again with the man who has been sharing her limelight over the years, Fabio-style model Alan (Tatum, Dog), who has graced her book's covers and had women falling over themselves to lust-read their pages. Loretta is hardly thrilled about the whole spectacle that becomes her latest Q&A as a result, and that makes her a distracted easy mark for billionaire Abigail Fairfax (Daniel Radcliffe, Guns Akimbo) afterwards. He's noticed her new work, spotted similarities to the ancient riches he's chasing IRL, and gets his underlings to swoop in and snatch her up. His plan: leaning on Loretta's past as a serious historian to help him find his holy grail on a remote Atlantic island. She's given zero choice, but once the puppy dog-like Alan notices she's missing, he calls in expert assistance from devilishly suave and competent mercenary Jack Trainer (Pitt, Ad Astra). Of course, it doesn't take long for Loretta and Alan to be fleeing as an odd-couple duo, attempting to find the treasure, and endeavouring to avoid Abigail and his minions — and stay alive, obviously. 'Obviously' is a word that could be thrown at almost everything that occurs in The Lost City, but there's a gaping difference between being drably dutiful to a well-worn setup and having as much fun as possible with recognisable parts. Case in point: how Radcliffe enthusiastically hams it up in a part that's a simple next step from his TV work on Miracle Workers, but is always a joy to watch. See also: how the movie uses the long-locked Pitt, who clearly enjoys toying and parodying his own image, and is even introduced on the phone, unseen but audibly eating — which immediately deserves its place in the supercuts dedicated to his fondness for acting and noshing. And, another example: the liveliness that accompanies Pitt's big rescue scene, which is equally exciting and amusing. All of this epitomises The Lost City at its best. Well, that and the rapport between Bullock and Tatum. They're game for their tasks, which largely rely upon their familiar on-screen personas — she's sharp, he's a himbo, that contrast sparks screwball banter aplenty — and yet they shine as brightly as any long-lost gems. Also welcome: the fact that the age gap between The Lost City's key couple skews Bullock's way — she's 16 years Tatum's senior — and isn't turned into a big deal. Neither is the idea that a middle-aged writer could be attractive, or that wearing glasses, not always caring about your appearance and being smart don't instantly stop the same outcome. Having a 50-something female lead, treating her like an actual human, letting her intelligence and warmth be her defining traits: these shouldn't all feel as revolutionary as they do, but they're as dazzling as the pink sequinned jumpsuit that Bullock spends much of the movie traipsing around the jungle wearing. The Lost City knows that whole setup is ludicrous, too, in a film that unpacks the cliches that've always come with its chosen genre, updates its tropes for 2022 and still embraces goofy escapism. Bullock is comfortable in her role because she's played brainy rom-com women before; The Proposal and Miss Congeniality quickly come to mind. As for The Lost City itself, it's comfortable all-round because Bullock is its anchor — even with the joyously self-aware Tatum and Pitt, and the eagerly entertaining Radcliffe, always proving just as engaging to watch. Viewers can forgive the Nee brothers, then, for stretching the film out longer than the material genuinely supports. You can excuse the flabby spots because they're rarely flat as well, and because something new and silly tends to pop up seconds later. The movie a little too bluntly advocates for its own modest pleasures, courtesy of a speech by Alan about learning not to be embarrassed about modelling for Loretta's books, but it really didn't need to: Hollywood should still make thoroughly predictable yet still well-executed and gleaming-enough fare like this, and more often.
Some movies sport monikers so out of sync with their contents that someone really should've had a rethink before they reached screens. Uncharted is one of them, but it was never going to switch its name. The action-adventure flick comes to cinemas following a decade and a half of trying, after the first Uncharted video game reached consoles in 2007 and the journey to turning it into a movie began the year after. Accordingly, this Tom Holland (Spider-Man: No Way Home)- and Mark Wahlberg (Joe Bell)-starring film was fated to keep its franchise's title, which references its globe-trotting, treasure hunting, dark passageway-crawling, dusty map-coveting storyline. But unexplored, unfamiliar and undiscovered, this terrain definitely isn't — as four Indiana Jones films to-date, two National Treasure flicks, three Tomb Raider movies, 80s duo Romancing the Stone and The Jewel of the Nile, and theme park ride-to-screen adaptation Jungle Cruise have already demonstrated. Uncharted mightn't live up to its label, but it is something perhaps unanticipated given its lengthy production history — a past that's seen six other filmmakers set to direct it before the Zombieland movies' Ruben Fleischer actually did the honours, plenty of screenwriters come and go, and Wahlberg once floated to play the saga's hero Nathan Drake rather than the mentor role of Victor Sullivan he has now. That surprise? Uncharted is fine enough, which might be the best likely possible outcome that anyone involved could've hoped for. It's almost ridiculously generic, and it sails in the Pirates of the Caribbean flicks' slipstream as well, while also cribbing from The Mummy, Jumanji and even the Ocean's films. Indeed, it borrows from other movies as liberally as most of its characters pilfer in their daily lives, even nodding towards all things Fast and Furious. It's no worse than the most generic of its predecessors, though — which isn't the same as striking big-screen gold, but is still passable. The reasons that Uncharted just hits the barest of marks it needs to are simple and straightforward: it benefits from Holland's charms, its climax is a glorious action-film spectacle, and it doesn't ever attempt to be anything it's not (although reading a statement of intent into the latter would be being too generous). It also zips through its 116-minute running time, knowing that lingering too long in any one spot wouldn't serve it well — and it's as good as it was going to be given the evident lack of effort to be something more. While you can't make a great movie out of these very minor wins, they're all still noticeable pointers in an okay-enough direction. Getting audiences puzzling along with it, delivering narrative surprises even to viewers wholly unfamiliar with the games, asking Wahlberg to do anything more than his familiar tough-guy schtick, making the most of the bulk of its setpieces, providing the product of more than just-competent direction: alas, none of these turn out. In a film that acts as a prequel to its button-mashing counterparts, Holland plays Drake as a 20-something with brother issues, a vast knowledge of cocktail histories that's handy for his bartending gig, an obsession with 16th-century Portuguese explorer Ferdinand Magellan and the gold he might've hidden, and very light fingers. Nate's elder sibling dipped out of his life after the pair were caught trying to steal a Magellan map as orphanage-dwelling kids, in fact, which Sully uses to his advantage when he first crosses his path in a New York bar — and, after some convincing, Nate has soon signed up to finish the quest he's been dreaming about since childhood. Naturally, this newly formed duo aren't the only ones on the Magellan treasure's trail. The wealthy Santiago Moncada (Antonio Banderas, The Hitman's Wife's Bodyguard) is descended from the explorer's original financiers and boasts a hefty sense of entitlement, while knife-wielding mercenary Jo Braddock (Tati Gabrielle, You) and enterprising fortune-hunter Chloe Frazer (Sophia Ali, India Sweets and Spices) are each chasing a windfall. It's telling — and farcically blatant — that Uncharted begins with Nate hanging upside down. He's suspended from a train of freight trailing out of a plane, but the visual message is instant and obvious: yes, Holland also plays Spider-Man. Actually, the film doesn't ever ask him to stretch his talents beyond everything he's already immensely famous for, going for a 'Peter Parker, but make him a thief with a heart of gold' setup. Still, he's as entertaining and charismatic as the part demands, and lifts the routine script by The Wheel of Time's Rafe Lee Judkins and Men in Black: International duo Art Marcum and Matt Holloway purely by his presence. Holland hasn't had a great time of late beyond the Marvel web, with the also long-troubled Chaos Walking proving flat-out awful, and Cherry failing to set streaming alight; however, if Uncharted leaves a lasting imprint, it's wondering how much better its star could fare with if he had more than a by-the-numbers screenplay to work with. A worthy lead, underperforming material, a general unwillingness to take any risks: that's a problem that's plagued too many movies about too many connect-the-dots treasure hunts well before now. Thankfully, Uncharted's eagerness to just get on with its story helps significantly — breezing by rather than loitering on its chest of illogical twists and turns, and, Wahlberg aside, never giving its one-note supporting characters too much of the spotlight. Also, when that aforementioned eye-catching finale arrives and puts the whole archaeology-meets-swashbuckling idea to nice use, the picture almost justifies its existence. X doesn't ever quite mark the spot with Uncharted, and the history of bringing video games to the movies still sinks more often than it swims, but there's just enough that gleams here to be watchable. It's a film with a few shiny coins in its bag, rather than a whole bar, cavern or ship of riches.
When Australia's last Blockbuster store closed its doors back in 2019, it marked the end of an era — especially if you spent your childhood and teenage years trawling through racks of VHS tapes, renting as big a stack as you could carry, then gluing your eyes to the TV every weekend. Every Aussie city also has its own stories about losing beloved independent video shops and, if you're still a fan of physical media in the streaming era, you might even have a few ex-rental bargains from closed-down stores sitting on your shelves at home. It's these fond feelings for a part of life that's now gone that new live cinema performance Coil aims to tap into, all while paying tribute to all the long-lost spots that once celebrated and nurtured cinephilia. Video stores were more than just places to rent tapes — they were havens of filmic discovery, sources of inspiration and thriving local communities — and that's all baked into this production. Coil made its world premiere at this year's Mona Foma, and now brings its tribute and farewell to Australia's video shops to Melbourne — playing Brunswick Mechanics Institute from Thursday, February 17–Saturday, February 19. The latest work from re:group, a collective of artists based between Hobart, Wollongong and Sydney, Coil stages its show in a set that recreates a 90s-era video shop. The focus: telling a tale of nostalgia, loneliness, friendship and viability that pays homage to those gone-but-not-forgotten spaces and celebrates the communities forged within them. It's a performance designed to ponder questions — including what we've lost now that we browse online sites for flicks instead of physically walking the aisles. And if you're wondering how a live cinema performance with a one-person cast works, Coil takes place live on stage before its audience, but deploys video design that lets its lone performer play every character in cinematic scenes. You'll be watching all of that happen, with the show combining verbatim interview material with real-time filmmaking — all to make the kind of performance that you definitely won't see on streaming. Images: Rosie Hastie.
When the Scream franchise posed the question it'll forever be known for, it skipped over a key word. Ghostface is clearly asking "do you like watching scary movies?", given the entire point of frightening flicks is seeing their thrills and chills, and being creeped out, entertained or both. We all know that's what the mask-wearing killer means, of course, but the act of viewing is such a crucial part of the horror-film equation that it's always worth overtly mentioning. Enter new slasher standout X, which splashes its buckets of viscera and gore across the screen with as much nodding and winking as the Scream pictures — without ever uttering that iconic phrase, though, and thankfully in a far less smug fashion than 2022's fifth instalment in that series — and firmly thrusts cinema's voyeuristic tendencies to the fore. That name, X, doesn't simply mark a spot; it isn't by accident that the film takes its moniker from the classification given to the most violent and pornographic movies made. This is a horror flick set amid a porn shoot, after all, and it heartily embraces the fact that people like to watch from the get-go. Swaggering producer Wayne (Martin Henderson, The Gloaming), aspiring starlet Maxine Minx (Mia Goth, Emma), old-pro fellow actors Bobby-Lynne (Brittany Snow, Pitch Perfect 3) and Jackson Hole (Scott Mescudi, Don't Look Up), and arty director RJ (Owen Campbell, The Miseducation of Cameron Post) and his girlfriend/sound recorder Lorraine (Jenna Ortega, doing triple horror duty in 2022 so far in Scream, Studio 666 and now this) are counting on that truth to catapult themselves to fame. Hailing from Houston and aroused at the idea of repeating Debbie Does Dallas' success, they're heading out on the road to quieter climes to make the skin flick they're staking their futures on, and they desperately hope there's an audience. X is set in the 70s, as both the home-entertainment pornography market and big-screen slashers were beginning to blossom. As a result, it's similarly well aware that sex and death are cinema's traditional taboos, and that they'll always be linked. That's art imitating life, because sex begets life and life begets death, but rare is the recent horror movie that stresses the connection so explicitly yet playfully. Making those links is Ti West, the writer/director responsible for several indie horror gems over the past decade or so — see: cult favourites The House of the Devil and The Innkeepers — and thrusting a smart, savage and salacious delight towards his viewers here. Yes, he could've gone with The Texas Porn-Shoot Massacre for the feature's title, but he isn't remaking the obvious seminal piece of genre inspiration. In this blood-splattered throwback, which looks like it could've been unearthed from its chosen decade in every frame (and was actually filmed in New Zealand rather than Texas), West pays homage to a time when flicks like this did pop up with frequency — while slyly commenting on what's changed to shift that scenario. He also explores the process of filmmaking, of putting both sex and death on-screen, and the conversation around both, all while his characters decamp to a quiet guesthouse on a remote property where they start making the film-within-the-film that is The Farmer's Daughter. Upon arrival, gun-toting, televangelist-watching, pitchfork-wielding owner Howard (Stephen Ure, Mortal Engines) is instantly unfriendly. Wayne hasn't told him why they're really there, but he's soon snooping around to see for himself. Also keen on watching the bumping 'n' grinding is Howard's ailing wife Pearl, who he warns his guests to stay away from, but is drawn to the flesh on show. There's a genius stroke of casting in X that deserves discovering while watching, and speaks to one of the movie's other thematic obsessions. As West ponders the heyday of the type of flick he's making — and the picture within it as well — he contemplates what kinds of bodies we fetishise and find horrific. Desire and shame are flipsides of the same coin, and Pearl's lust towards her young and virile visitors contrasts with Maxine's insecurity, too, although the latter remains determined to use nature's gifts to shoot her shot. X doesn't always cut especially deep, but its musings on commodifying and worshipping youth and beauty still pierce, particularly when aided by such a committed and compelling turn by Goth, charismatic work from Henderson, Mescudi and Snow, and a crucial spurt of slipperiness from Ortega. That said, nothing carves as forcefully and gleefully as the film's many expertly staged death scenes. Knocking its pretty young things (and in Wayne's case, a tad older) off one by one, X revels in and relishes the art of depicting movie's kills. In fact, that depictions of erotica and mortality can be art is another of the film's fascinations. Viewers watch the two out of curiosity, titillation, and a mix of shock and allure, but find far more in porn and horror when they're executed with exacting eyes. Accordingly, as shot by West's frequent cinematographer Eliot Rockett — an alum of The House of the Devil and The Innkeepers as well — X's atmospheric and textured imagery makes this point inherently in all of its retro-styled glory. Every element in the movie is meticulous about its timeframe, right down to Maxine's Linda Lovelace-esque appearance, and never in the service of mere nostalgia. West's love of slow-burn horror setups also plays an influential part, teasing things out before the army of money shots. So too does his knowledge that whatever his audience imagines in their head will always be more shocking than what he commits to celluloid — yes, even with ample amounts of guts still strewn all over the place in the second half, and often. A pivotal moment about a third of the way through, and perhaps X's best, says plenty: in a lake by their cabin (because West eagerly nods to Friday the 13th also), Maxine swims while a snapping alligator closes in behind her. The film peers down on this scene patiently from above, basking in stillness as the mood turns tense, unsettling and terrifying — and serving up one helluva sight. In other words, West makes X a flick that viewers don't just want to peer at the sleaze and the nasty body count, or to see people get screwed in multiple ways, but because it's so smart, savvy and spectacularly staged while straddling and embracing that fine line between pleasure and pain. "We turn people on and that scares 'em," Bobby-Lynne says early, and it's a fitting mantra for the movie overall. And when it climaxes, it firmly leaves audiences wanting to watch more. In great post-viewing news, West has already shot a prequel called Pearl as part of a planned trilogy.
Tonight, tonight, there's only Steven Spielberg's lavish and dynamic version of West Side Story tonight — not to detract from or forget the 1961 movie of the same name. Six decades ago, an all-singing, all-dancing, New York City-set, gang war-focused spin on Romeo and Juliet leapt from stage to screen, becoming one of cinema's all-time classic musicals; however, remaking that hit is a task that Spielberg dazzlingly proves up to. It's his first sashay into the genre, despite making his initial amateur feature just three years after the original West Side Story debuted. It's also his first film since 2018's obnoxiously awful Ready Player One, which doubled as a how-to guide to crafting one of the worst, flimsiest and most bloated pieces of soulless pop-culture worship possible. But with this swooning, socially aware story of star-crossed lovers, Spielberg pirouettes back from his atrocious last flick by embracing something he clearly adores, and being unafraid to give it rhythmic swirls and thematic twirls. Shakespeare's own tale of tempestuous romance still looms large over West Side Story, as it always has — in fair NYC and its rubble-strewn titular neighbourhood where it lays its 1950s-era scene. The Jets and the Sharks aren't quite two households both alike in dignity, though. Led by the swaggering and dogged Riff (Mike Faist, a Tony-nominee for the Broadway production of Dear Evan Hansen), the Jets are young, scrappy, angry and full of resentment for anyone they fear is encroaching on their terrain (anyone who isn't white especially). Meanwhile, with boxer Bernardo (David Alvarez, a Tony-winner for Billy Elliot) at the helm, the Sharks have tried to establish new lives outside of their native Puerto Rico through study, jobs and their own businesses. Both gangs refuse to coexist peacefully in the only part of New York where either feels at home — even with the threat of gentrification looming large in every torn-down building, signs for shiny new amenities such as Lincoln Centre popping up around the place and, when either local cops Officer Krupke (Brian d'Arcy James, Hawkeye) or Lieutenant Schrank (Corey Stoll, The Many Saints of Newark) interrupt their feuding, after they're overtly warned as well. But it's a night at a dance, and the love-at-first-sight connection that blooms between Riff's best friend Tony (Ansel Elgort, The Goldfinch) and Bernardo's younger sister María (feature debutant Rachel Zegler), that sparks a showdown. This rumble will decide westside supremacy once and for all, the two sides agree. The OG West Side Story was many things: gifted with a glorious cast, including Rita Moreno in her Academy Award-winning role as Bernardo's girlfriend Anita, plus future Twin Peaks co-stars Russ Tamblyn and Richard Beymer as Riff and Tony; unashamedly showy, like it had just snapped its fingers and flung itself off the stage; and punchy with its editing, embracing the move from the boards to the frame. It still often resembled a filmed musical rather than a film more than it should've, however. Spielberg's reimagining, which boasts a script by his Munich and Lincoln scribe Tony Kushner, tweaks plenty while also always remaining West Side Story — and, via his regular cinematographer Janusz Kaminski (The Post) and a whirl of leaping and plunging camerawork, it looks as exuberant as the vibrant choreography that the New York City Ballet's Justin Peck splashes across the screen, nodding to Jerome Robbins' work for the original movie lovingly but never slavishly. From the famous first whistle that's always opened the tale, West Side Story feels like it's dancing through the narrative instead of merely telling it. The savvy realisation that gang struts and brawls suit balletic movements — a notion from when the idea first hit the stage — pairs marvellously with the peppier visuals, too. Spielberg's fluid and kinetic stylistic approach springs from the same source as many of his other touches, with the director aiming not just to finally make a musical, bring the playfulness of his action scenes to the genre, or to give a work he loves his own stamp, but to ground the story in notions that are pressingly relevant today. Viewers here see more of the west side, get a bigger sense of the place, tap into its energy, and glean a more grounded view of the poverty, racism, factionalism and violence that's always sat at West Side Story's core. Switching some of the film's Leonard Bernstein-composed, Stephen Sondheim-penned songs between characters and locations makes this a more thoughtful and textured movie as well. See: the on-the-street version of earworm 'America' led by Hamilton veteran Ariana DeBose as the new Anita, and transforming 'Somewhere' into a community-focused ballad sung by the returning Moreno as a new figure. Both are magnificent. Still, as delightful as almost everything about Spielberg's film is — its inspired changes and passionate tribute to the first feature alike — it has an Ansel Elgort problem. He's a bland island in a sea of spectacle, and the lack of chemistry between him and the radiant Zegler would be a killer if examining the place, time and struggles that give rise to Tony and María's love didn't take precedence over the romance itself. Make it a 1950s NYC R+J, but about why its tragedy unfolds: that's another of Spielberg and Kushner's clever choices. And, while it takes a lifetime of unfortunate moves to strand the Jets and Sharks in their bloody turf war, thankfully one bad casting decision can't taint everything that glimmers about their latest big-screen outing. Indeed, enough praise can't be slung Faist, Zegler, Alvarez or DeBose's way, in what deserves to be a movie star-making effort for all four. Faist's turn as Riff is sinewy, smooth and vulnerable all at once — the film is electric every time he's on-screen — and Zegler's woozy and hopeful performance as a woman in the throes of first love is equally revelatory. Bringing EGOT-recipient and all-round entertainment icon Moreno back is touching, as well as exactly the right kind of nostalgic; looking both backwards and forwards is another of this sublime achievement of a feature's many successes, after all.
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas — and, as 2021 comes to a close, it's also the perfect time to celebrate everyone's favourite wizarding franchise. This year marks two whole decades since all things Harry Potter first brought their magic to the big screen, so recognising the occasion while getting festive is the ideal way to serve up some extra cheer. You can obviously accio up your own commemorations whenever and however you like — or you can head along to Christmas in the Wizarding World in Federation Square. Taking place from 5pm on Tuesday, December 7, it'll combine two of the best ways to celebrate HP in Melbourne, pairing a live performance by the Harry Potter and the Cursed Child cast with a big-screen showing of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Basically, you'll be bookending all your Pottermania with the very first flick to reach cinemas and the stage continuation that picked up the story where the novels and movies left off. Entry is free, and there'll also be a virtual wand workshop for wannabe witches and wizards of all ages — and Harry Potter-themed prizes up for grabs. Top image: Daniel Boud.
Between Thursday, May 20–Wednesday, May 26, Palace Cinemas is giving movie buffs in Melbourne an extra present. It's not just the gift of great flicks — that is, their daily bread and butter — but the gift of cheap great flicks. Head to the chain's Balwyn, Brighton, Brighton Bay, Como, Westgarth, Pentridge and Kino venues across the week in question, and any film at any time will only cost you a fiver. Want to see A Quiet Place Part II with your friends a week before it comes out? It'll cost you $5. Keen to check out Minari, Those Who Wish Me Dead, Antoinette in the Cevennes and The Courier? Also $5. We'd keep naming movies, but you get the picture. Booking in advance is highly recommended, given how much everyone loves going to the flicks for little more than the price of a cup of coffee. If you do nab your tickets online, you will have to add a transaction fee to the cost. And if you're wondering what $5 Movie Week is all about, Palace is simply endeavouring to encourage folks to catch a flick on the big screen. That's still the best way to watch a movie, after all. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MZmgl4TkFBc&feature=emb_logo
For the second year in a row, North Byron Bay Parkland won't be welcoming in bands and music lovers this July, with Splendour in the Grass' 2021 festival already rescheduled to November. But if enjoying a jam-packed lineup of tunes is a cherished part of your winter routine, that's still on the cards, thanks to a new virtual Splendour event taking place in its usual midyear time slot. Called Splendour XR, the mud-free two-stage event will pop up across the weekend of Saturday, July 24 and Sunday, July 25 — but you'll be watching along from home. Or, from wherever you choose to tune in via your mobile, tablet, browser, desktop or VR headset, all to watch more than 50 acts take to the virtual stage over two days. Leading the charge are headliners Khalid and The Killers. The former will do the honours on Saturday, while the latter will take over on Sunday. They'll be joined by a hefty list of talent, including Chvrches, Denzel Curry, Duke Dumont, Tash Sultana, Violent Soho, Phoebe Bridgers and Band of Horses on the first day, plus Charlie XCX, Vance Joy, The Avalanches, Of Monsters and Men, The Jungle Giants and Ocean Alley on the second. If you're wondering how Splendour XR will work, that's understandable — and no, you won't just be watching old gig footage or clips from past Splendours. Instead, the fest will feature new, never-before-seen live sets that have been created especially for the virtual event. And, while they'll be available to watch worldwide, the fest will operate on Australian time — running from 12pm–2am AEST each day, with tunes starting from 2pm. You'll also be able to view the performances for seven days afterwards. Splendour organisers are also aiming to take as much of the IRL festival experience with them into the virtual realm, too, with attendees set to access "an imaginatively embellished but faithful recreation of Splendour's Byron Bay venue", according to the festival announcement. You'll also create your own schedule so that you can hop between stages to see whoever you like, and you'll be able to virtually meet up with your mates in the process as well. Also part of the fest: raising funds for live music industry workers, mental health and wellbeing, and sustainability. There'll also be an online medical centre designed to help anyone that's struggling with their mental health after the chaos of the past 15 months or so. SPLENDOUR XR LINEUP: DAY 1 Khalid Chvrches Denzel Curry Duke Dumont Tash Sultana Masked Wolf Russ Millions Band Of Horses Little Simz Violent Soho Aurora Phoebe Bridgers Vera Blue Pink Sweat$ Client Liaison Griff Pond Tayla Parx Dune Rats Methyl Ethel The Chats Triple One Cat & Calmell King Stingray The Southern River Band DAY 2 The Killers Charli XCX Vance Joy Grimes Metaverse (Super Beta) The Avalanches Of Monsters and Men Kaytranada Black Pumas Hot Dub Time Machine Millennium Parade The Jungle Giants Ocean Alley Jungle What So Not King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard Sinéad Harnett Holly Humberstone Spacey Jane Crooked Colours Amyl and The Sniffers Wafia Aviva The Snuts Band-Maid Ziggy Ramo Gretta Ray Top image: Mitch Lowe.
UPDATE Friday, October 22: Due to Melbourne's current COVID-19 restrictions, The Collection has been postponed. It'll now take place at the same venue some time in 2022, with dates to be confirmed. For more details on Victoria's current restrictions, see the Department of Health and Human Services website. How much cheese can you squeeze into a weekend? You'll find out when That's Amore descends on the CBD for a special, extra cheesy, two-day tasting event next month. From Saturday, August 21 to Sunday, August 22, the cheese producer will take over Fortyfivedownstairs for its much-anticipated showcase, The Collection. And it'll have its full 65-strong cheese collection in tow. Nab a $30 ticket and head in either day to sample the entire range. You can cosy up to some caciocavallo, bliss out over burrata and wig out over a few washed rind cheeses — the whole gang will be here. Each session runs for just over two hours (10.30am, 1.30pm, 4.30pm), during which time you'll enjoy guided tastings and live tunes, plus a beer or wine on arrival and a mini cannolo to finish. All cheeses will be available to purchase to take home, too. If you fancy digging even deeper, a series of masterclasses led by local experts like cheesemonger Anthony Femia (Maker & Monger), cheesemaker Helen Ritchie and That's Amore founder Giorgio Linguanti will run on both days. They'll host intimate 30-minute sessions on topics like mozzarella-making, and how to create the ultimate cheese board, with spots limited to just 15 per class. Tickets to these are $70, including general access to the event. [caption id="attachment_818130" align="alignnone" width="1920"] That's Amore's Buffalo Trecce[/caption]
Tequila is always on the menu at El Camino Cantina, the vibrant Tex-Mex chain that's been spreading its footprint across Australia over the past few years. Between Tuesday, July 20–Sunday, July 25, the brand will be splashing a bit more of the stuff around, however — all to celebrate National Tequila Day. The actual occasion falls on Saturday, July 24. It wouldn't be an El Camino shindig if it didn't spread the love as far as it can, however. So, you'll have six days to tuck into plenty of tequila. You'll be able to sip it in margaritas, enjoy flights of the stuff, and also taste it while eating tacos and chicken wings. El Camino's Fitzroy venue will still be doing its current Not So Soft Drink series, and serving up its signature flavours. So, that's the marg side of things covered. If you're keen on tequila by itself, you'll find two different flights on offer, each showcasing three varieties of the tipple. And, food-wise, the chain will be doing tequila chicken tacos. They'll feature chicken covered in a tequila-spiced marinade, then paired with red cabbage, lime, pickled onion, coriander, jalapeno and avocado. Or, opt for the tequila, lime, chilli and paprika chicken wings as part of the eatery's King of the Wing Festival.
There's nothing like watching a film at the planetarium, but it's something most of us don't do all that often. Daytime sessions cater to school groups, and the Melbourne International Film Festival's full-dome program only comes around once a year. Thankfully, Scienceworks' late-night series changes that. Every Friday evening through August, once the planetarium's usual working day is done, adults can have some after-hours fun in its impressive space. That means sitting in the reclining chairs, looking up at the 16-metre domed ceiling, listening to the 7.1 surround sound system and soaking in the best the full-dome video projection system has to offer. In celebration of National Science Week, this month's Friday night program will be taking a deep-dive under the sea, with a curation of short films centred around our oceans. The 7.30pm screening is set to feature an exploration of WA's Ningaloo Reef, a global-scale look at ocean currents for Clockwork Ocean and the latest edition of the ever-popular What's In The Sky Tonight. And at 9pm, you can catch a screening of Coral, offering an immersive glimpse at some of the underwater ecosystems most threatened by climate change. Making things even better is the fact that the whole thing is boozy, so you can grab a drink from the bar, take it into the auditorium and sip while you watch.
It's the frostiest of Australia's annual film festivals for two reasons — the time of year it arrives, and the region it showcases — and it's back for 2022 with another round of recent and retro flicks. That'd be the Scandinavian Film Festival, which naturally hits cinemas around the country each winter. Well, winter Down Under, that is. This year's fest will play 19 titles, primarily hailing from Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway and Sweden, with the program heading to The Astor Theatre, Palace Cinema Como, Palace Brighton Bay, Palace Westgarth, The Kino, Palace Balwyn and Pentridge Cinema in Melbourne from Thursday, July 14–Sunday, August 7. That gives film buffs around a month to get their Nordic movie fix, whether you're keen on a historical epic or a dive into Scandi cinema history. Yes, blasts from the pasts are a feature of the 2022 lineup — starting with opening night's Margrete — Queen of the North. Starring Trine Dyrholm (The Commune) and directed by Charlotte Sieling (Lovecraft Country, Homeland), the historical drama is set in 1402, and hones in on Denmark's Queen Margrete, who oversaw the Kalmar Union that brought together Sweden, Norway and Denmark. Also peering backwards: the Scandi Screen Sirens selection, which celebrates leading ladies from times gone by — all in classics. So, you'll catch Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca, Greta Garbo in Queen Christina and Britt Ekland in The Wicker Man. There's also two Liv Ullmann films: The Serpent's Egg, directed by iconic Swedish filmmaker Ingmar Bergman; plus The New Land, the 1972 gem in the festival's closing night slot. Elsewhere, the program includes Dyrholm again in A Matter of Trust, which heads to Australia straight from premiering at the Tribeca Film Festival; Finnish effort The Woodcutter's Story, which played the 2022 Cannes Film Festival Critics' Week; and The Emigrants, a new adaptation of Vilhelm Moberg's novels. The latter first hit the screen in 1971, in a film of the same name — to which the aforementioned The New Land was a sequel. From a selection of 19 flicks all up, there's also the Danish boarding school-set Pretty Young Thing, which will have its world premiere at the fest; psychological drama Quake from Iceland; Berlinale Crystal Bear Award-winner Comedy Queen, about a 13-year-old girl who wants to be a stand-up comedian; and documentary Nordic by Nature, which was filmed in the Faroe Islands, including in its seafood industry, and also covers two-star Michelin restaurant KOKS. And if Scandinavian talent has you thinking of Game of Thrones' Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, he's accounted for A Taste of Hunger from Denmark. It's about the quest for a Michelin star, actually, with the drama following a couple determined to get one for their restaurant.
Stop us when Lost Illusions no longer sounds familiar. You won't; it won't, either. Stop us when its 19th century-set and -penned narrative no longer feels so relevant to life today that you can easily spot parts of it all around you. Again, that won't happen. When the handsome and involving French drama begins, its protagonist knows what he wants to do with his days, and also who he loves. Quickly, however, he learns that taking a big leap doesn't always pan out if you don't hail from wealth. He makes another jump anyway, out of necessity. He gives a new line of work a try, finds new friends and gets immersed in a different world. Alas, appearances just keep meaning everything in his job, and in society in general. Indeed, rare is the person who doesn't get swept up, who dares to swim against the flow, or who realises they might be sinking rather than floating. The person weathering all of the above is Lucien Chardon (Benjamin Voisin, Summer of 85), who'd prefer to be known as Lucien de Rubempré — his mother's aristocratic maiden name. It's 1821, and he's a poet and printer's assistant in the province of Angoulême when the film begins. He's also having an affair with married socialite Louise de Bargeton (Cécile de France, The French Dispatch), following her to Paris, but their bliss is soon shattered. That's why he gives journalism a try after meeting the equally ambitious Etienne Lousteau (Vincent Lacoste, Irma Vep), then taking up the offer of a tabloid gig after failing to get his poetry published. Lucien climbs up the ranks quickly, both in the scathing newspaper business — where literary criticism is literally cash for comment — and in the right Parisian circles. But even when he doesn't realise it, his new life weighs him down heavily. Lost Illusions spins a giddy tale, but not a happy one. It can't do the latter; exactly why is right there in the title. As a film, it unfurls as a ravishing and intoxicating drama that's deeply funny, moving and astute — one that's clearly the product of very particular set of skills. No, Liam Neeson's recent on-screen resume doesn't factor into it, not for a second. Instead, it takes an immensely special talent to spin a story like this, where every moment is so perceptive and each piece of minutiae echoes so resoundingly. The prowess behind this seven-time César Award-winner belongs to three people: acclaimed novelist Honoré de Balzac, who wrote the three-part Illusions perdues almost 200 years ago; filmmaker Xavier Giannoli (Marguerite), who so entrancingly adapts and directs; and Jacques Fieschi (Lovers), who co-scripts with the latter. There's more to Lucien's story — pages upon pages more, where his tale began; 149 minutes in total, as his ups and downs now play out on the screen. When Louise decides that he doesn't fit in, with help from the scheming Marquise d'Espard (Jeanne Balibar, Memoria), spite rains his way. When Etienne introduces him to the realities of the media at the era, and with relish, he's brought into a dizzying whirlwind of corruption, arrogance, fame, power, money and influence. When Lucien starts buying into everything he's sold about the whys and hows of his new profession, and the spoils that come with it, Lost Illusions couldn't be more of a cautionary tale. Everything has a price: the glowing words he gleefully types, the nasty takedowns of other people's rivals and the entire act of spending his days doing such bidding for the highest fee. Balzac's text was of its time — albeit savagely so — and also ahead of its time. Or, you could say that the years and technologies have changed since the 1800s, obviously, but human nature hasn't. Giannoli and Fieschi intentionally tease out Lost Illusions' still-relevant and even prescient notions, of course, and the result is a movie that looks rich and period-appropriate in every frame, and yet also feels timeless. Part of that sensation stems from the verve with which Giannoli helms, even with his feature sprawling across such a lengthy duration. Like Lucien when he naively thinks that his dreams are achievable in the film's first act, or when he later eagerly laps up the benefits of his choices — despite fellow writer Nathan d'Anastazio's (Xavier Dolan, IT: Chapter Two) attempts to warn him otherwise, and as his decisions start to impact his new girlfriend Coralie (Salome Dewaels, Working Girls), an actress — Lost Illusions has a spring, bounce and dance in its step. Yes, that's Xavier Dolan, director of Heartbeats, Laurence Anyways, Tom at the Farm, Mommy and more, in a tremendous supporting role as one of Lucien's rivals. Giannoli gets the very best out of his supporting cast, including the always-welcome Lacoste, his Irma Vep co-star Balibar and the ever-reliable de France. But, as wonderful as each proves, none are tasked with conveying exactly what the movie's moniker exclaims. When viewers meet Nathan, Etienne, the Marquise and Louise, none have many illusions to lose. Voisin, with eyes that gleam so brightly when Lucien is praised for his poems in his provincial home town, is saddled with seeing fantasies crash, morals twist, hopes wither and hard truths set in. He has to express Lucien's growing lust for status, too, as well as his increasing willingness to shrug off the ramifications. It's a thorny part, and a consummate performance. While Voisin was also superb in Summer of 85, he's even better here. Lost Illusions has much to say about heads filled with dreams; about quests to become the hero of one's own narrative; about the forces, such as cynicism, cash, class structures and an obsession with how everything looks, that trample earnestness and sincerity. It enlists narration to help voice it, but the intricate imagery lensed by cinematographer Christophe Beaucarne (Hold Me Tight) utters plenty anyway. Although almost everything glitters and appears exquisitely golden, little is beyond aesthetics. This is a film where opinions are bought, and not just in print. Paying for boos at theatre shows, including the more sensationalistic productions on "the boulevard of crime", is so commonplace that no one questions it. Lost Illusions itself wouldn't ever need the same tactics IRL, but this movie exists in a world where nothing it explores seems fanciful, farcical, an imagining of fiction or a relic of history. If viewers had any illusions otherwise, prepare to lose them in this sumptuous and savvy picture.
If you're a fan of chicken wings, then you might already have July 29 marked in your calendar. It's your annual excuse to tuck into plenty of chook, because that's what National Chicken Wing Day is all about. At Pacific Concept's various German-themed venues — aka Munich Brauhaus and The Bavarian, and at all stores around Victoria — you won't just find a whole heap of chicken, however. Wings will also be on special from 4–6pm for ten cents each. Yes, you read that price correctly. All wings come with buffalo sauce, and you can nab up to 20 at a time for just $2 — although you will also need to buy a full-priced drink. If you fancy more than 20, that's fine — you'll just need to get more beverages, which we're sure no one will be complaining about. And yes, given that July 29 falls on a Friday this year, this is a special worth knocking off early for.
Back in 2018, Gang of Youths announced its very own music festival, taking over Brisbane's Riverstage with the likes of Luca Brasi, Thelma Plum and Jack River. Four years and a whole new album cycle later, the band is returning with A More Perfect Union part two, taking over a new Queensland venue and expanding to a new state much further afield. The festival will be popping up in Tasmania on Sunday, August 14 at MAC 2 in Hobart before it heads to Queensland. Each date for the festival has a unique lineup personally curated by Gang of Youths, both headlined by the band, of course. Tasmania's edition will feature sets from UK singer-songwriter and Mercury Prize-winner Arlo Parks, as well as local Australian favourites Cub Sport, Gretta Ray, The Lazy Eyes and Adam Newling. If you can't make it to the festival, the band will be touring their latest record angel in realtime and new EP immolation tape across the country in August, popping up in Adelaide, Newcastle, Sydney and Melbourne. Tickets are $121, with VIP passes available for $201. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H9QsAO4BU28 Image: Sergey Osipov.
Inspiration strikes in plenty of places, including while watching movies — and if you've ever sat down in a cinema or on your own couch, directed your eyes towards a film and seen your style dreams flicker across the screen, then you might be interested in Melbourne's latest pop culture-themed pop-up. You'll need to make a choice, though: do you want to look like Ryan Gosling or Chris Evans? To be specific, would you prefer a goatee like Gosling wears in Netflix flick The Gray Man, or a moustache — a "trash 'stache", as Gosling's character calls it — that's donned by Evans as the film's villain? That's what's on offer for three days only in Melbourne, from Friday, July 29–Sunday, July 31, as part of the streaming platform's Good Guy Goatee/Bad Bro Mo Barber Shop at 306–308 Brunswick Street, Fitzroy. No, you can't go rogue and ask for Gosling's Barbie look or Evans' Captain America aesthetic — this is all about The Gray Man, so looking like you've stepped out of the spy thriller is the only thing on the menu. This movie-inspired makeover is free, too, and open to everyone. Walk-ins are welcome, or you can reserve a spot online in advance. If you don't have facial hair of your own, but you'd like some, there are even stunt goatees and 'staches on offer. Otherwise, you'll slide into the barber's chair to get Gosling's rugged stubble or ape Evan's top lip. The barbershop setup has also been decked out to suit the film, so patrons will find other bits and pieces in store, including posters and pictures. If you want to spend time arguing with your mates while you're there about that Evans-style mo — to really mirror the on-screen Gosling and Evans banter — that's obviously up to you. Now, are you a Gosling or an Evans?
Music panel shows weren't invented when Spicks and Specks and Rockwiz started airing in Australia back in 2005, but the two series became Aussie icons quickly. Seemingly everyone watched one, the other or both, with the pair earning a devoted following by realising a pivotal fact: as well as seeing musicians live, audiences also love watching them banter, bust out their smarts and just generally connecting over music. Also taking that idea and running with it is Georgia Mooney's Supergroup, which originally debuted in Sydney in 2019 and is now taking its live variety show on the road. It's inspired by Spicks and Specks and Rockwiz, obviously; focuses on stellar songwriters; and also includes live music and interviews as well. If that sounds like your kind of night out, Melbourne music fans can check out Supergroup's wonders at Brunswick Ballroom from Thursday, August 4—Friday, August 5. Guest-wise, Ruby Gill, Bob Evans and KYE will do the honours on the first night, with Mo'Ju, Maple Glider and Ryan Downey taking over on the second evening. Here's how it works: on each evening, the guests come together to form a band, with support from the Supergroup House Band. They'll only play together for that one night, with each high-profile songwriter taking turns to perform songs while their colleagues join in. And it's all spontaneous — with no rehearsals and absolutely zero prior planning. That means that guests get an experience that's never been seen or heard before, and won't ever happen again with the same songwriters and tunes, either. "There is something quite magical about it," says All Our Exes Live in Texas' Mooney. "It is communal and whimsical and musical in the purest sense. I have a feeling this tour will take that to a new level. It's going to feel incredibly poignant to connect again in this way, after the two years we've all had."
Put together in only nine days and watched by more than 1.4 million Australians, 2020's Music From the Home Front was the nationally televised music event created by late Australian music industry icon Michael Gudinski. Last year, the ANZAC Day home concert came about to bring live music into viewers' homes during the peak of the COVID-19 lockdown. Now, with Australians once again able to converge on concert venues together to watch music in-person, Music From the Home Front is not only returning to screens, but will also be happening live. Going down on Saturday, April 24, the live event will take place at Melbourne's Sidney Myer Music Bowl and be broadcast via Channel 9 and YouTube. Folks that physically head along will be treated to performances from some of the country's biggest talents including Amy Shark, Vance Joy, Tash Sultana and Lime Cordiale, plus Bliss n Eso performing with Kasey Chambers. All these performances will be broadcast live across the country, with home viewers also being treated to additional pre-recorded streamed performances from the likes of Tina Arena, You Am I, Gordi, The Kid Laroi, and both Jimmy and Mahalia Barnes. Gudinski had been planning the live concert until his tragic passing on Tuesday, March 2. Newly appointed Mushroom Music Group Chief Executive Officer Matt Gudinski — who is also Michael Gudinski's son — said his father was working on the event right up until his last day. "That we can bring to life a broadcast concert version from his hometown of Melbourne, supporting the industry he loved, in a city he long promoted as the leading music capital of Australia, resonates deeply with all of us at Mushroom." [caption id="attachment_806979" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Lime Cordiale[/caption] MUSIC FROM THE HOME FRONT LINEUP Performing live at the Sidney Myer Music Bowl: Amy Shark Bliss n Eso with Kasey Chambers Budjerah Jerome Farah Lime Cordiale Mia Wray Tash Sultana Royal Melbourne Hospital Scrub Choir The Rubens Vance Joy Streamed performances: Ben Lee Dean Lewis Gordi Hayley Mary Jess Hitchcock Jimmy Barnes Mahalia Barnes Sam Fischer The Kid Laroi Tina Arena You Am I Top image: Wade Malligan.
No matter how many times you've seen a particular movie, watching any beloved flick in a completely different setting can make you appreciate it with fresh eyes. That's one of the ideas behind Blockbuster'd, Welcome to Thornbury's pop-up cinema. Operating for seven sessions between Wednesday, April 7–Sunday, April 18, it's showing films you've definitely seen before — but on a big screen. On the bill: seven movies you likely first watched on VHS at a young age, and might not have ever seen in another format. That includes Weird Science to kick things off, then 90s faves Scream and Clueless — and Uncle Buck, Scream 2, Dirty Dancing and She's All That as well. Your $25 ticket includes sitting on a beanbag, watching a film, a burger from Mr Burger and a drink. Some sessions also come with free popcorn. And, you can also order cocktails and beers to be brought to you will the movie flickers across the 4.5-metre by 2.5-metre screen — but those beverages aren't included in your entry price. Sessions run at 7pm on weeknights, 8pm on weekend evenings and 2pm on Sundays. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mgjwq1ZzdPQ
New adaptations of acclaimed classics, tributes to iconic directors, topical thrillers and plenty of glimpses of Berlin — that's what's on the program at this year's German Film Festival. Like its fellow country-specific counterparts (such as the French and Spanish film fests), this showcase of cinema serves up the latest and greatest movies its chosen nation has to offer. In 2021, after sitting out 2020 for obvious years, that means that 30 films will be lighting up the big screen at Palace Balwyn, Palace Brighton Bay, Palace Cinema Como, The Kino, Pentridge Cinema and The Astor Theatre from Thursday, May 27–Sunday, June 13. A number of GFF's big highlights this year all follow a common thread, because they're linked to the great New German Cinema director Rainer Werner Fassbinder in one way or another. That includes a 40th anniversary screening of Lola, which'll screen via a glorious new 4K restoration; biopic Enfant Terrible, which sees Oliver Masucci step into Fassbinder's shoes; and Berlin Alexanderplatz, a new screen version of Alfred Döblin's 1929 novel — which Fassbinder famously adapted into a miniseries back in 1980. Celebrating today's German greats as well, GFF will kick off with Next Door, the filmmaking debut of actor Daniel Brühl (The Falcon and the Winter Soldier). No spotlight on movies from the European nation would be complete without an appearance by the inimitable Nina Hoss (Pelican Blood), of course, which comes courtesy of drama The Audition. And, there's also Exile, starring Toni Erdmann's Sonia Huller; Fabian: Going to the Dogs, which is set in pre-World War II Berlin; and romantic comedy I'm Your Man, which follows a scientist who agrees to live with a humanoid robot. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GWEoRYylwwI&feature=emb_imp_woyt Top image: Berlin Alexanderplatz.
At its Fitzroy store, Meatsmith is doing something other than serving up meat, condiments, charcuterie, wine and other items for your pantry. It's still doing that, but once a month, it's also whipping up American and Tex-Mex barbecue dishes. The new regular event is called Sunday Smokehouse, so you know what day of the week it's on — and it starts on Sunday, March 14. A collaboration between Meatsmith and Wat-son the BBQ, Sunday Smokehouse will be serving up two options first up: 15-hour smoked brisket sandwiches with dill pickles and barbecue sauce ($15) and smoked jalapeño hot link sausages ($9). They're available for takeaway from 11.30am until sold out (or until 3pm, if they last that long). You can either head home to eat, or pull up a seat at the tables outside the shop. Brews are also part of the event, with a different beer in the spotlight each month. For March, tinnies of Sailors Grave ($6) will be on offer. And if you're wondering what has motivated the new Sunday series, it's inspired by past travels through southern America. So, while you can't physically make that trip yourself at the moment, due to border restrictions, your tastebuds can still reap the benefits. [caption id="attachment_629077" align="aligncenter" width="1920"] Harvard Wang[/caption]
It's safe to say that Gami Chicken and Beer has secured its status as one of Australia's go-to fried chicken joints, slinging its signature Korean-style chook from a growing number of locations across the country. It's also mighty fond of a giveaway — and while it isn't handing out free chicken this time around, it will definitely tempt your sweet tooth. Given we've all binged Squid Game by now, the chain is giving away free dalgona candies between Friday, November 12–Sunday, November 14. They're on offer at all Victorian stores except Werribee, Caroline Springs, Point Cook and St Albans, but you'll need to head in early if you want one — there's 100 per store per day. You do need to dine in at a Gami store to nab your freebie, however. Still, tucking into one of these honeycomb treats will obviously be a whole lot less stressful than on the hit Netflix series. And yes, they even come pre-carved.
When the end of the year hits, do you get 'Christmas is All Around', as sung by Bill Nighy, stuck in your head? Have you ever held up a piece of cardboard to tell the object of your affection that, to you, they're perfect? Does your idea of getting festive involve watching Hugh Grant, Liam Neeson, Colin Firth, Laura Linney, Alan Rickman, Emma Thompson, Keira Knightley, Rowan Atkinson and Martin Freeman, all in the same movie? If you answered yes to any of the above questions, then you clearly adore everyone's favourite Christmas-themed British rom-com, its high-profile cast and its seasonal humour. And, you've probably watched the beloved flick every December since it was first released in cinemas back in 2003. That's a perfectly acceptable routine, and one that's shared by many. But this year, you can do one better. A huge success during its past tours of the UK and Australia (to the surprise of absolutely no one), 'Love Actually' in Concert is returning to make this festive season extra merry. And, to the jolly delight of Melburnians, to the Plenary Theatre at the Melbourne Convention and Exhibition Centre at 7.30pm on Saturday, December 18. Here, you'll revisit the Richard Curtis-written and -directed film you already know and treasure, step through its interweaved Yuletide stories of romance, and hear a live orchestra play the movie's soundtrack. And, yes, Christmas (and love) will be all around you. Tickets go on sale at 4pm local time on Thursday, November 11, with presales from 10am local time on Tuesday, November 9.
When yum cha hits the menu at The Grand Richmond, it doesn't show up in its usual guise — instead, this feast of bite-sized portions is reimagined with a few deft Italian twists. And this weekend, you can enjoy it all at home, in the form of a limited-edition chef's box available for pick-up and delivery. If you're new to the concept, Italian Yum Cha is exactly what it sounds like. You'll work your way through a parade of Italo-accented small bites, such as margherita pizzette, tiger prawn ravioli with chilli butter, duck croquette cubes teamed with an orange and juniper dipping sauce, classic vitello tonnato and marinated olives. Even dessert is included — a lemon tart paired with vanilla mascarpone cream. While the usual dine-in offering would have you ordering off the menu with your meal tallied up per plate, the at-home version is imagined as a curated box filled with nine yum cha dishes for $75 per person. It'll be available to enjoy only this Friday, August 27–Sunday, August 29, with orders placed via the website. Restaurant pick-up is available, as well as delivery for addresses up to 15 kilometres. The online store even has a selection of vino and batched cocktails you can add to your yum cha feast.
