It's the time of the year when the days begin to shorten, the evenings get cooler and your stomach starts grumbling for comfort food. But, while that'll remain true for the next few months, only one particular working week will bring free tacos. Tex-Mex giant Taco Bell has been steadily opening stores around the country since 2017, including in Melbourne — and, to treat your taco-loving tastebuds, it's giving away freebies between Monday, May 9–Friday, May 13. If you haven't tried the chain's Taco Supreme, this is your chance. If you have and you just like freebies, count yourself in as well. There is a catch, though. This is a lunchtime taco swap — to replace whatever you'd usually eat in the middle of the day. So, to get a taco without paying a cent, you need to show a photo of your regular lunch at the counter. Also, there's a limit of one free taco per person, so you won't be able to stuff your stomach full of them. And, the deal is only available from 12–2pm daily — and in-person. What's a Taco Supreme? A crunchy taco, as filled with seasoned beef, sour cream, fresh lettuce, tomato and cheese — or black beans for vegetarians. Wondering where you're heading? Taco Bell has Victorian stores in South Yarra, Hawthorn, Altona North, Berwick South, Dandenong South and Roxburgh Park.
What's more ludicrous in Venom: Let There Be Carnage: an alien invasion of one man's body that turns into a parasite-host odd-couple show, or a prologue that thinks Woody Harrelson could've been a 90s teen? Kudos to this sequel to 2018's Venom for starting how it means to go on, at least. With its opening, set in 1996 in a home for unwanted children, the film doubles down on silliness, overblown theatrics and packaging itself as a cartoonish lark. The goofiness of the original box-office hit was among its best traits, and worked because that ridiculousness rattled against the movie's gritty superhero setup. Venom adopted all the stylistic markers that've become the serious-minded caped-crusader formula, then let Tom Hardy bounce around like he was in a comedy. But this time, everyone's gone more than a little vaudeville, as has the movie — and the outcome is right there in the title. Carnage isn't just an apt term to describe the film, which has actor-turned-director Andy Serkis (Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle) behind the lens; it's also the name of its second symbiote, aka a flesh-munching extra-terrestrial who inhabits a bag of bones, then brings out its basest urges. Mercifully, Let There Be Carnage isn't big on rehashing the mechanics established in the initial flick, but Venom fits the bill, too, after the creature took up residence inside San Francisco journalist Eddie Brock (Hardy, Capone), then unleashed the franchise's one-body, two-personality double act. Carnage, the red-hued parasite, is the spawn of Venom, albeit bursting forth from condemned serial killer Cletus Kasady (Harrelson, Zombieland: Double Tap) after a scuffle with Brock. And yes, this is the kind of feature that has the scenery-chewing Harrelson proclaim its subtitle with glee. He bellows "let there be carnage!" with winking jokiness, but resembles a ringmaster announcing the next act in a big top. Scripted by returning scribe Kelly Marcel, who also mined Fifty Shades of Grey for all the humour she could — and using a story co-credited to Hardy, who clearly has an attachment to his Marvel-but-not-Marvel Cinematic Universe character — Let There Be Carnage isn't burdened with much plot. After getting murderous following his separation from girlfriend Frances Barrison (Naomie Harris, No Time to Die) in their youth, Kasady will only tell his tale to Brock before he's executed. The latter goes awry due to Carnage's arrival, and a deal. The new symbiote will reunite Kasady with Barrison, whose ability to manipulate sound has seen her locked in an asylum, if the sadistic criminal assists his havoc-wreaking passenger to dispense with Brock and Venom. Cue the obvious — yes, carnage — and an inevitable showdown. Harrelson wasn't an adolescent in the 90s, but his performance nods to that decade, back when his resume spanned White Men Can't Jump, Natural Born Killers, The People vs Larry Flynt, EDtv and the like. That isn't a compliment; he's simply summoning-slash-parodying that heyday, and he's in a film that wishes it released then. Indeed, Let There Be Carnage could've been the hit of 1993, 1999 or any other year before Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy reshaped the genre, the MCU turned it into one of the predominant forms of big-screen entertainment (and now small screen, too), and superhero flicks began arriving every few weeks. Really, Harrelson's work here feels like a chaotic distraction rather than a throwback nudge, because there's only one great thing about Let There Be Carnage: Tom Hardy arguing with himself. One of everyone's favourite friendly neighbourhood web-slinger's antagonists on the page, Venom might've first hit cinemas in the misfire that was Spider-Man 3, but the strongest aspect of his recent films is that self-banter. Plenty can be read into the back-and-forth, all voiced with gusto by Hardy: Venom is the literal growling voice inside Brock's head; a fight with conflicting impulses; the side of our identities we aren't comfortable revealing; and, here, the friend we need to be to ourselves in the name of self-care. In fact, Let There Be Carnage is a bromance as Brock and Venom try to live in harmony. That their disputes mimic domestic feuds isn't accidental. That said, endeavouring to layer in queer subtext — including comments about Venom coming out of Eddie's closet — falls flat. So do mentions of stopping cruelty to aliens, with the film merely paying lip service to deeper ideas, rather than even pretending to give them substance. There's always more CGI mayhem to come, after all, and more Brock-symbiote fights about eating chickens and chocolate instead of brains. Hardy makes all that bickering the most entertaining element of the film, though, almost purely through his sheer physical — and vocal —commitment. In 2013's Locke, he proved he could make talking the most riveting thing in the world, a notion the Venom franchise happily attempts to steal. Hardy is having the same great time he did in the initial flick, and trying to have even more. But, while often amusing to watch, it isn't infectious. Let There Be Carnage is nowhere near as fun as witnessing Hardy quarrel with himself should be, and gets routine and repetitive fast. Understandably, that doesn't bode well for the film's other performances; hopefully Michelle Williams (After the Wedding) was paid handsomely to reprise her thankless role as Brock's ex-fiancée Anne Weying, and the similarly underused Harris as Barrison/Shriek as well. It's knowingly absurd, boasts a self-aware lead and moves quickly — when the climax hits, it feels like everything before it breezed by — but Let There Be Carnage remains a slog. Most of its gags land with a thud, and Serkis mistakes pace for personality while going for a monotonous same-is-same approach that largely takes Venom's successes, spreads them over the entire movie, dials up the anarchic vibe and uses messiness as a visual template. Although it falls within Sony's Spider-Man Universe, which differs to the MCU but also includes the same version of the web-slinger, this symbiote sequel has pilfered one of Marvel's worst tendencies, too. Spider-Man: No Way Home reaches cinemas in weeks, the Jared Leto-starring Morbius follows the next month and, as the obligatory post-credits sting teases, Let There Be Carnage mainly exists to keep stitching this on-screen universe together and lay foundations for more to come in yet another sprawling comic book-inspired movie realm. Try as he visibly and energetically does, Hardy shouting at himself can't fix that either.
At the Yarra Valley's new two-day wine tasting celebration, you can start 2022 as you wish to continue: sipping top-notch local vino with mates while soaking up a few rollicking party tunes. The inaugural Pulp will descend on the garden at the Healesville Hotel on Saturday, January 15 and Sunday, January 16, serving up a weekend showcase of quality regional drops, plus chats with some of the area's most celebrated winemakers. Across both days, punters will have the chance to sample the latest wares from a range of independent and small-batch Yarra Valley producers, for $15 for one day, or $25 for a two-day pass. In the lineup, expect both emerging and well-known names, including Solar Wines, Musical Folk, Tillie J, Alkimi Wines, Honky Chateau, Fetherston, Ben Haines and more. Want a side of knowledge with that? In between tastings, catch local legends like Rob Dolan Wines' Meg Brodtmann MW, Giant Steps' Steve Flamsteed and Mac Forbes himself chatting about innovation and diversity in winemaking at a series of panels. Goodys HiFi will be supplying each evening's post-sip soundtrack, and there'll be barbecue eats and plenty more wine to buy onsite. [caption id="attachment_581989" align="alignnone" width="1280"] Adrian Patino via Flickr[/caption]
We did it. We rolled up our sleeves and got the jab, and now we can reap the rewards, such as having live music events on our summer calendar. To celebrate, the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra is putting on one of the biggest shows since COVID-19 came to town, and it's bringing a stellar lineup of performers from Melbourne's most exciting playhouses, theatres and band rooms on stage with them. Across two magical nights — Monday, December 13 and Tuesday, December 14 — the MSO will be in full swing at the Sidney Myer Music Bowl for its gig dubbed Performance of a Lifetime. You can catch the likes of Dannii Minogue, Rhonda Burchmore, Kate Ceberano, Kaiit, Mo'Ju, Emma Donovan and Tim Rogers of You Am I fame. There'll also be stars from The Phantom of the Opera, Moulin Rouge! The Musical and artists from The Australian Ballet, Melbourne Theatre Company and more. As a cherry on top, MSO is giving away 400 tickets to Victorian frontline workers to say thanks for keeping us safe and getting us back to seeing live music again. Otherwise, you can nab one for $69–135. Ready for a balmy night of live music under the stars? For more information and to book, visit the website.
UPDATE, January 26, 2022: Gold opened in select Australian cinemas from January 13, and is available to stream via Stan from January 26. Gold's title doubles as an exclamation that Australian filmmakers might've made when Zac Efron decamped to our shores at the beginning of the pandemic. Only this outback-set thriller has put the High School Musical, Bad Neighbours and Baywatch star to work Down Under, however, and he definitely isn't in Hollywood anymore. Instead, he's stuck in "some time, some place, not far from now…", as all-caps text advises in the movie's opening moments. He's caught in a post-Mad Max-style dystopia, where sweltering heat, a visible lack of shelter, a cut-throat attitude, water rationing, and nothing but dirt and dust as far as the eye can see greets survivors navigating a rusty wasteland. But then his character, Man One, spots a glint, and all that glisters is indeed gold — and he must guard it while Man Two (Anthony Hayes, also the film's director) seeks out an excavator. Exactly who stays and who goes is the subject of heated discussion, but Gold is an economical movie, mirroring how its on-screen figures need to be careful about every move they make in such unforgiving surroundings. As a filmmaker, helming his first feature since 2008's Ten Empty, Hayes knows his star attraction — and he's also well-aware of the survivalist genre, and its history, that he's plonking Efron into. Almost every male actor has been in one such flick or so it can seem, whether Tom Hanks is talking to a volleyball in Castaway, Liam Neeson is communing with wolves in The Grey or Mads Mikkelsen is facing frosty climes in Arctic. Although Gold purposefully never names its setting, Australia's vast expanse is no stranger to testing its visitors, too, but Hayes' version slips in nicely alongside the likes of Wake in Fright, The Rover and Cargo, rather than rips them off. The reason such tales persist is pure human nature — we're always battling against the world around us, even if everyday folks are rarely in such extreme situations — and, on-screen, because of the performances they evoke. Efron isn't even the first import to get stranded in sunburnt country in 2022, after Jamie Dornan did the same in TV miniseries The Tourist, but he puts in a compellingly internalised performance. Man One's minutes, hours and days guarding an oversized nugget pass with sparing sips of H20, attempts to build a shelter and altercations with the locals, including of the two-legged, canine, insect and arachnid varieties, and the toll of all this time alone builds in Efron's eyes and posture. His face crackles from the sun, heat and muck, but his portrayal is as much about enduring as reacting, as both Efron and Hayes savvily recognise. Writing with costumer-turned-scribe Polly Smyth as well as directing solo, Hayes puts more than just survival on Gold's mind, though: when the titular yellow precious metal is involved, greed is rarely good. Here, staying alive at any cost is all about striking it rich at any cost, and also about the paranoia festering between two new acquaintances who've randomly stumbled upon a life-changing windfall — as heightened by the film's stark, harsh, post-apocalyptic setup. When a third person (Susie Porter, Ladies in Black) enters the scenario, Gold grimly lets its life-or-death and lucky break elements keep clashing, but also pairs Man One's desperation with the mental decline that blistering in the sun, being parched with thirst and starving with hunger all bring. Greed proves perilous in a plethora of ways in the film's frames, including inside its main character's head. The mood: dire, drastic but also frantic, the latter not in pace but in how urgently Man One obviously wants the situation to work out. As lensed by cinematographer Ross Giardina, who also worked as a second unit director of photography on The Dressmaker — another feature to make strong use of the Aussie landscape while led by an high-profile overseas actor — Gold ensures its bleak tone ripples in every image. Just how grey, white and almost blue the desert can look here is one of the movie's most striking features, in fact. Where The Tourist blazed away its cooler hues, and most other outback-set fare lets ochre and golden shades radiate, Gold is sun-dappled to the point of often being sun-bleached. As shot in South Australia, all of its wide vistas look particularly ominous as a result, and never let the feature's tension subside for a second. Another of Gold's astute moves springs from its determined focus; don't expect backstory here. Barely glimpsed signs make it clear that this likely isn't Australia, but Hayes sports a heavily put-on American accent to match Efron — because keeping everything ambiguous to retain an unflinching gaze on two men and their big piece of gold is the lean aim. In early scenes, the remote outpost where Man One enlists a ride from Man Two is dystopian-standard sparse, and all that's said about Man One's need to head east is that he's en route to work in a mining camp. The details of why the world has turned to hot dust don't matter, with Hayes and Smyth leaving plenty of room for viewers to read in their own takes on how human nature — the movie's main subject — has turned the planet into this scalding hell. From its performances and visuals to its weightiness, Gold is patently well-made. Again, it's well-acted, including by Hayes (who, among his many acting credits dating back to the early 90s, also had roles in The Rover and Cargo). With every image it bakes onto the screen, it's inescapably well-lensed, which applies when peering closely at Efron in a fraying state and surveying all that desert stretching out around him. It ruminates upon familiar but still meaty matters, and thoughtfully so, all within a stingingly suspenseful feature. Gold is also never more than the sum of its parts, but those parts always do what they're meant to — and glitter as brightly as they need to.
If you only know two things about South Korea's film and television industry, then you likely know that it's been responsible for Parasite and Squid Game over the past couple of years. The nation's big- and small-screen output spans much further than that, of course — and, since 2010, Australia has boasted a film festival dedicated to its cinematic prowess. That'd be the Korean Film Festival in Australia, which returns to Melbourne's ACMI from Thursday, September 1–Monday, September 5 with 13 impressive titles that showcase Korean filmmaking's finest. And while that lineup mightn't be huge numbers-wise, it's still filled with massive names, including two of the biggest movies from any country currently doing the rounds of the international and Australian festival circuits. If you don't have it on your Melbourne International Film Festival schedule, make a date with Broker, the latest release from acclaimed Japanese filmmaker Hirokazu Kore-eda. The 2018 Shoplifters Palme d'Or-winner has made a movie in Korea — his first Korean-language film, in fact, and it's still exploring the director's favourite topics. That'd be the ties that bind and the connections of family, following two people who illegally take an abandoned infant from a 'baby box facility'. In another drawcard, Broker stars Parasite's Song Kang-ho, who won Cannes' Best Actor Award for his efforts. Also a must-see: Decision to Leave, a noir romance that saw Korean filmmaker Park Chan-wook win Cannes' Best Director gong. Anything that the Stoker and Oldboy director helms is worth a look, but the fact that it has been six years since his movie — 2016's The Handmaiden — makes his latest even more exciting. The rest of the KOFFIA lineup spans opening-night pick Special Delivery, a crime-action film from Park Dae-min that stars Parasite's Park So-dam; mystery Hommage, which again features a Parasite alum — this time Lee Jeong-eun — and charts the searching for missing footage from one of the first feature films directed by a South Korean woman; and In Our Prime, with Oldboy's Choi Min-sik as a North Korean defector and mathematical genius working as a school security guard. Or, there's The Roundup with Train to Busan's Don Lee as a cop chasing a killer; the 80s-set Escape from Mogadishu; and Spiritwalker, about a man who loses his memory and wakes up in a different body every 12 hours — and the list goes on.
The Black Phone didn't need to star Ethan Hawke. In a way, it doesn't really. Fresh from Moon Knight and The Northman, Hawke is definitely in this unsettling 1978-set horror film. He's also exceptional in it. But his top billing springs from his name recognition and acting-veteran status rather than his screen time. Instead, superb up-and-comer Mason Thames gets the bulk of the camera's attention in his first feature role. After him, equally outstanding young talent Madeleine McGraw (Ant-Man and The Wasp) comes next. They spend most of their time worrying about, hearing rumours of, hiding from, battling and/or trying to track down a mask-wearing, van-driving, child-snatching villain — the role that Hawke plays in a firmly supporting part, almost always beneath an eerie disguise. Visibly at least, anyone could've donned the same apparel and proven an on-screen source of menace. There's a difference between popping something creepy over your face and actually being creepy, though. Scary masks can do a lot of heavy lifting, but they're also just a made-to-frighten facade. Accordingly, when it comes to being truly petrifying, Hawke undoubtedly makes The Black Phone. He doesn't literally; his Sinister director Scott Derrickson helms, and also co-wrote the script with that fellow horror flick's C Robert Cargill, adapting a short story by Stephen King's son Joe Hill — and the five-decades-back look and feel, complete with amber and grey hues, plus a nerve-rattling score, are all suitably disquieting stylistic touches. But as the movie's nefarious attacker, Hawke is unnervingly excellent, and also almost preternaturally unnerving in every moment. Whenever he opens his mouth, his voice couldn't echo from anyone else; however, it's the nervy, ominous and bone-weary physicality that he brings to the character that couldn't be more pitch-perfect. Everyone is tired in The Black Phone, albeit in varying ways. At first, that comes as a surprise — it's a looser, more laidback time, and the film happily rides the vibe in its opening Little League game. Still, that relaxed air comes with its own sense of anxiety. What's better, an era when kids escape their homes during daylight, roaming the streets as they like but also instilled with a festering sense of stranger danger, or a period where such unsupervised freedom seems utterly unthinkable? This movie lurks in the former, obviously, and there is indeed a dangerous stranger prowling around north Denver's suburban streets. To 13-year-old Finney Blake (Thames), his younger sister Gwen (McGraw) and their schoolmates, that monstrous figure is known as The Grabber, and he's abducted several of their peers so far. Finney and Gwen are also exhausted at home, where their alcoholic father Terrence (Jeremy Davies, The House That Jack Built) is hardly hands-on — unless his hands are flying in anger their way. At school, Finney has a trio of bullies to deal with, too; luckily, if his pal Robin (first-timer Miguel Cazarez Mora) isn't around to save him, the plucky and sweary Gwen usually is. She's zapped as well, courtesy of dreams of events that haven't quite happened yet. The pair's mother had the same ability, which is why their dad is so sozzled, and also so hard on the two of them. Fatigue is well and truly in the air, thick yet invisible, although The Grabber's (Hawke) is the flimsiest. After taking Finney, he's drained by his need to kidnap and kill. That doesn't stop him from terrorising the neighbourhood, of course — but if his latest target has his way, aided by advice whispered down the disconnected basement telephone by past victims, the masked assailant might soon be far worse than simply weary. If you didn't know that The Black Phone came from Hill's pen, or that his father is the most famous horror author alive, you'd likely guess it the moment that The Grabber uses balloons to lure his prey. Those decorations are black, not red. The Grabber is a part-time magician instead of a demonic clown. No one dwells in a sewer here, but the trapped Finney does peer out of a basement window — and looking at him from the outside has a Pennywise-in-a-storm-drain appearance to it. The Black Phone isn't an IT do-over; however, it always feels like it has been moulded not just from memories of growing up in the 70s (Derrickson and Hill are the right ages, as is Hawke), but by minds that have also internalised King's brand of horror. Stranger Things does the same, but with the 80s. And as with the Netflix hit, that loving, knowing, nodding sensation doesn't stop The Black Phone from drawing viewers in — or keeping them immersed, engaged, entertained and unsettled. If you also didn't know that The Black Phone was a short story on the page, you'd swiftly pick that by watching, too. The film can't be called economical or slight, but it jumps speedily from forebodingly setting the scene with gripping unease (that weariness is palpable) to getting close to wrapping everything up, all without lingering much in the middle. The sense that connecting the dots is happening a tad too fast can't be shaken, although it doesn't confine The Black Phone to the cellar where terrible, half-baked, by-the-numbers horror flicks should go to rot. (Also, The Black Phone isn't any of those things.) Rather, for such an escape room of a movie — a picture that's all about a teenage boy who isn't the typical hero using his brains and even his fears to hopefully puzzle together the necessary pieces to escape a room, with some supernatural help — it just seems too eager to flee. Wishing there was more teasing and loitering to Derrickson's return to horror after helming the first Doctor Strange, and Hawke's as well, is the right kind of problem to have, though. There's plenty about The Black Phone that keeps audience hooked — and, unlike Finney, we'd be happy to remain that way a little longer. Derrickson's film is big on mood, and on crucial details. Almost every character feels lived-in, from its two key kids through to The Grabber, Terrence, and other victims fleshed out in small scenes and flashbacks. (Performances obviously play a pivotal part in the latter, not just from the superbly vicious Hawke and the impressive Thames and McGraw, but right down to IT: Chapter Two's James Ransone showing up and getting unhinged quickly.) There's always a dripping sense of tension, much of the picture's imagery is perturbing all on its own, and the well-executed jump scares do exactly what they're supposed to. The Black Phone doesn't always know when to stay on the line, but the chilling flick is still a horror-movie call worth taking.
If The Phantom of the Open was part of a game of golf, rather than a movie about the club-flinging, ball-hitting, bunker-avoiding sport, it wouldn't be a hole in one. It couldn't be; perfection doesn't suit the story it's telling, which is as real and as shaggy — as so-strange-it-can-only-be-true, too — as they can possibly come. That other key factor in spiriting dimpled orbs from the tee to the cup in a single stroke, aka luck, is definitely pertinent to this feel-good, crowd-pleasing, happily whimsical British comedy, however. Plenty of it helped Maurice Flitcroft, the man at its centre, as he managed to enter the 1976 British Open despite never having set foot on a course or played a full round of golf before. It isn't quite good fortune that makes this high-spirited movie about him work, of course, but it always feels like a feature that might've ended up in the cinematic long grass if it wasn't so warmly pieced together. When Maurice (Mark Rylance, Don't Look Up) debuts on the green at the high-profile Open Championship, it doesn't take long for gap between his skills and the professionals he's playing with to stand out. In the words of The Dude from The Big Lebowski, obviously he's not a golfer — although what makes a golfer, and whether any sport should be the domain of well-to-do gatekeepers who reserve large swathes of land for the use of the privileged few, falls into The Phantom of the Open's view. So does a breezily formulaic yet drawn-from-fact account of a man who was born in Manchester, later settled in the port town of Barrow-in-Furness in Cumbria and spent much of his life as a shipyard crane operator, providing for his wife Jean (Sally Hawkins, Spencer), her son Michael (Jake Davies, Artemis Fowl), and the pair's twins Gene (Christian Lees, Pistol) and James (Jonah Lees, The Letter for the King). Maurice had never chased his own dreams, until he decided to give golfing glory a swing. For audiences coming to all this anew, director Craig Roberts (Eternal Beauty) clues viewers in from the get-go, via a recreation of an 80s TV interview with Maurice. The film's key figure chats, looking back on his sporting efforts after his attempts at golf have clearly earned him a level of fame, but he'd also rather just sip a tea with six sugars. That's an easy but pivotal character-establishing moment. He's a cuppa-coveting everyman accustomed to finding sweetness in modest places, which aptly sums up his whole approach to his middle-aged pastime. The jovial humour of the situation — in caring more about his beloved tea than talking on the television — is also telling. Using a screenplay by Simon Farnaby (Paddington 2) based on the actor and writer's 2010 biography of Maurice, Roberts laughs along with and never at his protagonist. He affectionately sees the wannabe golfer's eccentricities, and also values the new lease on life he's eagerly seeking. That quest starts while watching late-night TV, after Michael advises that the shipyard where both men work — and Jean as well — will be making layoffs. With Bridge of Spies Oscar-winner Rylance dripping with sincerity and never cartoonish quirkiness, Maurice eyes the game on-screen like a man having a life-altering and surreal epiphany. Befitting anyone who's ever had a sudden realisation, he's instantly convinced. That he has zero know-how, nor the cash for the right attire, equipment and membership to the local club to practice, doesn't put him off. Neither does filling out the Open entry form, where he instructs Jean to tick the 'professional' box because that's what he wants to be. On the ground at Royal Birkdale Golf Club in Southport, he swiftly attracts attention for hitting 121 — the worst score ever recorded — with the press, as well as tournament bigwigs Keith Mackenzie (Rhys Ifans, The King's Man) and Laurent Lambert (Farnaby, Christopher Robin). "The world's worst professional golfer" gets slung Maurice's way, alongside other descriptions and titles, the movie's own moniker included. But with the competitive disco-dancing twins as his caddies, he isn't dissuaded. As seen in fellow recent comedy The Duke — another seemingly tall but genuinely true tale about an ordinary fellow battling the establishment — The Phantom of the Open becomes a caper, in fact. Maurice makes new putts at re-entering the Open aided by disguises and accents, hijinks ensue again and again, and his determination to strive for something better rarely fades. There isn't much in the way of drama amid the on-the-course larks, but some springs at home. While Jean remains supportive, as do Gene and James, Michael gets embarrassed about his dad being made a joke — and there are also financial ramifications. As with The Full Monty, Eddie the Eagle and other thoroughly British underdog-focused stories, The Phantom of the Open earns all the terms it's striving for: nice, perky, funny, pleasant, sweet, moving and rousing, for starters. Another two that echo like a ball whacked convincingly with a club: entertaining and engaging. Roberts and Farnaby find the right mood, which recognises how ridiculous so many of the details prove — they'd be called contrived if a screenwriter had simply conjured them up — but keeps its heart with the Flitcrofts. Taking tonal cues from his best-known on-screen appearances in 2010's coming-of-age charmer Submarine and delightful streaming series Red Oaks, Roberts also appreciates how embracing a look, feel and era can shape a movie. The Phantom of the Open sees Maurice's efforts as firmly a product of the 70s, and plays up the period details everywhere it can, including on the soundtrack. A singular real-life character, a wild series of actual events, ABBA and other upbeat needle-drops, disco contests, 70s oddities galore, all that golf, a cartful of fantastical visual flourishes, slapstick upon slapstick: throw them all together and, again, the movie equivalent of a sand trap or water hazard could've resulted. Thankfully, Roberts knows how to mould all these pieces into something affable — albeit not particularly concerned with digging too deep, let alone needing a sand wedge — and also enlists the stellar Rylance. Even when The Phantom of the Open is at its silliest, he gives an earnest and charismatic performance that can last 18 holes, no matter how many triple bogeys and worse that Maurice hits. Crucially, he plays the prankster and dreamer as someone who knows to keep tap, tap, tapping even when stuck. A narrative like this always going to draw people in, of course, as gumption-fuelled against-the-odds tales tend to, but it wouldn't keep them cheering along without Rylance's both believable and endearing stint in the argyle vest.
One of the many 80s comedies on Tom Hanks' resume, Turner & Hooch has already been remade in 2021 as a low-stakes streaming series with nothing worth wagging one's tail about to show for it. Still, it gains a big-screen spiritual successor in Dog, Channing Tatum's return to cinemas after a five-year absence (other than a brief cameo in Free Guy, plus voice-acting work in Smallfoot and The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part). Sub out a police investigator saddled with a canine witness for an Army Ranger transporting a dead colleague's ex-working dog; swap Hanks' uptight everyman for Tatum's usual goofy meathead persona, obviously; and shoehorn in a portrait of America today that aims to appeal to absolutely everyone. The result: a good boy of a movie that Tatum co-directs, isn't without its likeable and affecting moments, but is also a dog's breakfast tonally. Like pouring kibble into a bowl for a hungry pooch each morning, Dog is dutiful with the basics: a man, a mutt, an odd-couple arrangement between seeming opposites with more in common than the human among them first thinks, and an emotional journey. Comedic hijinks ensue along the way, naturally, although Turner & Hooch didn't involve anyone getting cock-blocked from having a threesome with two tantric sex gurus by its four-legged scamp. Given that Tatum's Jackson Briggs needs to take Belgian Malinois Lulu 1500 miles from Montana to Arizona by car — she won't fly — Dog is also a road-trip film, complete with episodic antics involving weed farmers and fancy hotels at its pitstops. That's all so standard that it may as well be cinema's best friend, but this flick also reckons with combat-induced post-traumatic stress disorder of both the human and animal kind, and ideas of masculinity and strength attached to military service. When Dog introduces Briggs, he's working in fast food by necessity — think Breaking Bad's fate for Saul Goodman, with Tatum even channelling the same stoic demeanour — as he waits to get redeployed. All he wants is to head back on active duty, but his higher-ups need convincing after the brain injury he received on his last tour. But his direct superior (Luke Forbes, SWAT) throws him a bone: if Briggs escorts Lulu to their former squad member's funeral, after he drove himself into a tree at 120 miles per hour, he'll sign off on his re-enlistment. Lulu has also been changed by her service, so much so that this'll be her last hurrah; afterwards, Briggs is to return her to the nearest base where she'll be euthanised. Given that Dog is exactly the movie it seems to be, its ending is never in doubt. Accordingly, fretting about Lulu is pointless. The journey is the story, of course, so Tatum and co-director/screenwriter Reid Carolin — also making his helming debut, and reteaming with the former after penning Magic Mike and Magic Mike XXL (and the upcoming Magic Mike's Last Dance) — endeavour to make the small moments matter. That's a line of thinking on par with Briggs' readjustment to civilian life, and similarly howling through his burgeoning bond with Lulu past simply playing chauffeur. Yes, Dog is that obvious. An emotional throughline doesn't need to be novel to strike a chord, though, and this film yaps the message loud and clear. That said, it also trades more in concepts than in fleshed-out characters, making an already-broad story even broader. Some films see the universal in the specific (see: 2008's also pooch-centric masterpiece Wendy and Lucy starring Michelle Williams), but Dog isn't one of them — it's too eager to please, and widely. So, when it attempts to rove beyond a feel-good person-and-pupper road-trip heartwarmer, it still goes broad and blatant. Here, caricatures of Portland women sneer at Briggs for his service, military camaraderie and purpose is his be all and end all, and dialogue riffs about "getting our murder on" on deployment. The armed forces are adamant about checking the boxes required for Briggs' return, but care little about his post-war life otherwise — and see Lulu as expendable. And, this is a feature where a gag involving Briggs pretending to be a person who is blind segues into an attack on a Middle Eastern man, as Lulu was once trained to do, which sparks congrats from a racist cop and Briggs' horror. Dog presents rather than significantly interrogates most of the above, however, proving jumbled in both mood and meaning. Tatum, Carolin and co-screenwriter — and former soldier — Brett Rodriguez are far more careful with depicting the effects of war on Briggs and Lulu. Sharing a 14-year history with the subject dating back to 2008's Stop-Loss, which Tatum acted in, Carolin helped produce and Rodriguez worked on as a military consultant, the trio have been building to Dog; they also collaborated on 2017 documentary War Dog: A Soldier's Best Friend, too. Perhaps that's why, even playing a character with plenty of complications but little texture, Tatum still makes Briggs feel lived-in. He's long been great at unpacking and softening engrained notions of machismo — the Magic Mike films dazzle for exactly that reason — and he's as charismatic and graceful at it here as he's ever been. Tatum also conveys the simmering desperation driving Briggs, who only knows how to fight, and the leap it takes to see open himself up to his new barking bestie. Affable, thoughtful, sometimes muddled, a bit adrift: they all describe Dog, and apply to Briggs and Lulu as well. Indeed, it'd be half the movie it is without Tatum, and benefits from a fine supporting turn by Ethan Suplee (The Hunt) as another veteran and dog handler — plus the always-welcome Jane Adams (She Dies Tomorrow) and ex-wrestler Kevin Nash (a fellow Magic Mike and Magic Mike XXL alum) as the aforementioned pot-growing duo — as well as never-overplayed canine acting. A familiar but still poignant score from Thomas Newman (The Little Things) also does its part, and the expectedly scenic yet nonetheless vivid cinematography by Newton Thomas Sigel (Da 5 Bloods) with it. Dog mightn't convincingly teach its underlying formula new tricks, doesn't always have much bite and rarely knows what to stop shaking its tail at; however, even just for its 101 minutes, it's an easy-enough movie to sit and stay with.
The past couple of weeks haven't just been wet in New South Wales and Queensland. They've been catastrophically drenching, with the two states weathering not only torrential rain but also widespread flooding. And if you've been lucky enough to avoid the worst of it, you're probably eager to help out however you can — including with your next schooner, pint or several. At Australian Venue Co locations around Australia — all 180-plus pubs and bars around the country, including a heap in Melbourne — your next beer will help flood-affected folks in need. In Victoria specifically, the hospitality company is donating $1 per schooner and $2 per pint from every Furphy beer to the Red Cross Qld and NSW Floods Appeal. Yep, in a time that hasn't had much in the way of good news, that's something to say cheers to. The whole thing has been dubbed Beers for Mates, and it's running till the end of the month. So, to lend a hand by sinking a few brews, all you need to do is hit up your local AVC venue and order a Furphys between Wednesday, March 9–Thursday, March 31. Top image: Fargo & Co.
When Dolly Parton sang about pouring herself a cup of ambition in the giddily catchy 80s hit '9 to 5' — the song that accompanied a film of the same name four decades back, now echoes in a stage musical as well and will never, ever get old — she wasn't talking about wine. But Zimbabwean quartet Joseph Dhafana, Tinashe Nyamudoka, Marlvin Gwese and Pardon Taguzu have lived up to those lyrics one glass of top-notch vino at a time, despite not drinking alcohol as Pentecostal Christians. Clearly, these men have quite the story to tell. It starts with fleeing their homeland under Robert Mugabe's rule, and then sees them each make new homes at considerable risk in South Africa, where they all also eventually found themselves working with the grape. In the process, they discovered a knack for an industry they mightn't have ever even dreamed of contemplating entering otherwise — and, in 2017, they took Zimbabwe's first-ever team to the World Wine Blind Tasting Championships in Burgundy, France. In the words of the always-great and ever-quotable Parton again, Joseph, Tinashe, Marlvin and Pardon waited for their ship to come in, and for the tide to turn and all roll their way. '9 to 5' doesn't actually have a single thing to do with Blind Ambition, the film that splashes through the Zimbabwean sommeliers' story, but their against-the-odds journey is equally infectious and uplifting. The Australian-made documentary about the foursome has also been likened to another on-screen underdog tale, this time about Black men seeking glory in a field that isn't typically associated with their country of birth. Blind Ambition isn't the wine version of Cool Runnings for numerous reasons — it hasn't been fictionalised (although it likely will be at some point) and it isn't a comedy, for starters — but the comparison still pithily sums up just how rousing this true story proves. The reality is far more profound than a Disney flick, of course. Making their second wine-focused doco of the past decade, Warwick Ross and Rob Coe — the former the co-director of 2013's Red Obsession, the latter its executive producer, and both sharing helming credits here — decant emotion aplenty from the moving and inspiring Blind Ambition. It flows freely from Joseph, Tinashe, Marlvin and Pardon's plights, which the film begins to drip out individually, harking back to before the quartet had even met, then blends together. Getting across the border was especially harrowing for Joseph, for instance, while ensuring that his new life honours his parents back home is particularly important for Pardon. Overcoming poverty and adversity echoes through their stories, as does the hope that their newfound affinity for wine brings — including via Tinashe's desire to plant vines on his grandfather's land one day. From those histories grows a keen eagerness to turn vino into their futures, and amid those dreams sits the World Wine Blind Tasting Championships. The activity that gives the competition its name is serious business; the first word isn't slang for getting black-out drunk or even just knocking back drinks to the thoroughly sozzled stage of inebriation, but describes how teams sample an array of wines without knowing what's rolling over their palates. Every national squad, all with four people apiece, is given 12 drops. From the six red and six white varieties, they must pick everything they can just by sipping — the grape, country, name, producer and vintage — to earn points. And, they also need to spit out the answers quickly, within two minutes of taking a taste. Yes, it's an event that you need to train for. No, it doesn't involve getting sloshed. As stressed verbally and visually throughout the doco, there's a specific — and very white — crowd for blind wine-tasting. It's also a pursuit marked by wealth and privilege, and by the access to a vast selection of different wines that springs far more easily when you come from or have access to both. Accordingly, Team Zimbabwe instantly stands out, not that its members ever let that stand between them and their next tasting glass. While Blind Ambition could've just stuck to the feel-good angle that gushes from Joseph, Tinashe, Marlvin and Pardon's efforts as outsiders within this insular realm, it smartly dives further, knowing that anything else would be too superficial and tokenistic. Accordingly, while the film celebrates their achievements, it also ensures that the racial and class divides that are as inherent to this part of the wine world — and to the wine world in general — as grapes fermented into alcohol remain as prominent as a red wine stain on a white tablecloth. That makes Blind Ambition a multi-layered movie with something to say as well as a heartwarming true tale to share, aka the kind of real-life situation that documentarians fantasise about. Heralding diversity and exposing its historical absence rank high among Team Zimbabwe's feats, and the footage that follows them training in South Africa and navigating the competition in Burgundy speaks volumes about the Eurocentric and money-driven industry they've plunged into. Competitive blind wine-tasting is a sport that requires coaches, too, and developments arise when both South African coach Jean Vincent Ridon and French wine expert Denis Garret become involved. All the way through, however, Joseph, Tinashe, Marlvin and Pardon's contagious joy, pride and enthusiasm for the field, for competing at the Olympics of the wine world, for the fact that their journey has taken them from refugees to finding a new calling, and for opening up the world to African vino, is never anything less than resonant. Like any standout plonk, wine or otherwise, Blind Ambition leaves viewers wanting more, though. Ross and Coe cover plenty in the film's 96 minutes, including postscript glimpses into the team's lives following their World Wine Blind Tasting Championships debut, but wishing for deeper notes at several stages along the way — the tension of the contest and its ins and outs, noticeably — is the prevailing aftertaste. While moderation is a wise approach to imbibing, parts of the film feel like just a sample themselves. It's still a delightful doco drop that lingers long on the cinematic palate, but another pour wouldn't go astray.
Summer might be over, but that doesn't mean Melburnians are relegated to getting their flicks fix indoors. On Friday nights throughout March, film distributor Umbrella Entertainment is teaming up with Yarra City Arts to setup an openair cinema — and four Aussie movies are on the bill. Each week between Friday, March 4–Friday, March 25, you'll want to head to Linear Park Reserve (on the corner of Nicholson and Park streets) in Fitzroy North at 7.30pm — or from 7pm to get a good seat. Live tunes will also help set the mood, and there'll be bites to eat on sale from local food vendors. It wouldn't be a trip to the movies without snacks, obviously. As for what you'll be watching, the lineup kicks off with Claudia Karvan and Ben Mendelsohn-starring gem The Big Steal, then gets in a footy mood with The Merger. Homegrown classic Storm Boy — the 1976 original, not the recent remake comes next, before the lineup closes out with The Babadook.
Penélope Cruz didn't score an Oscar this year for Parallel Mothers. Her husband Javier Bardem didn't win one for Being the Ricardos, either. And, just a couple of years ago, Antonio Banderas also didn't nab a shiny Academy Award for Pain and Glory — but the three acclaimed actors are all winners at the 2022 Spanish Film Festival. The annual cinema showcase spotlights not just Spanish but also Latin American cinema, and it's back for another Aussie tour throughout April and May — hitting up Melbourne's Astor Theatre, Palace Cinema Como, Palace Brighton Bay, Palace Westgarth, The Kino, Palace Balwyn and Pentridge Cinema from Thursday, April 21–Sunday, May 15. On the bill: 34 movies that hail from both regions, or tie into them in one way or another, including several with Cruz, Bardem and or Banderas at their centre. Kickstarting this year's Spanish Film Festival with the Cruz- and Banderas-starring Official Competition must've been the easiest programming choice in the fest's history. A filmmaking satire, it casts Cruz as a famous director entrusted to bring a Nobel Prize-winning novel about sibling rivalry to the screen, and enlists Banderas as a Hollywood heartthrob. Throw all of that together and it's clearly film festival catnip, as the movie's berths at overseas fests such as Venice, Toronto and San Sebastián have already shown — and it'll enjoy its Australia premiere as the Spanish Film Festival's opening night pick. The aforementioned — and sublime — Parallel Mothers is also on the lineup after releasing in Aussie cinemas earlier this year, if you missed it then. And, so are two Cruz-Bardem collaborations: Jamón Jamón, the pair's first film together, which marks its 30th anniversary in 2022, and 2017's Loving Pablo, which sees Bardem play Pablo Escobar. Of course, the Spanish Film Festival spans plenty of movies that don't star Spanish cinema's best-known acting names, too — with 2022 Goya-winning political drama Maixabel, fellow Goya-recipient Mediterráneo: The Law of the Sea, psychological horror flick The House of Snails, road-movie comedy Carpoolers, and the coming-of-age-focused Once Upon a Time in Euskadi also on the program. Or, there's Girlfriends, about childhood pals reuniting; dramatic thriller The Daughter, which hones in on a pregnant teen; mother-daughter drama Ama; the Himalayas-set Beyond the Summit; and The Cover, about a pop star impersonator. From the Cine Latino strand, ten films hail from the likes of Argentina, Mexico, Uruguay and the Dominican Republic — including rom-com The Big Love Picture, thriller Immersion, the footballer-centric 9 and Goya-winner (yes, another one) Forgotten We'll Be. Plus, the lineup also includes Language Lessons, which is directed by and starring Natalie Morales (The Little Things), and also features Mark Duplass (Bombshell) — with the pair navigating an online setup to play a Spanish teacher and her student. And, there's sessions of the Spanish-language version of Disney's Encanto as well.
Films about war are films about wide-ranging terror and horror: battles that changed lives, deaths that reshaped nations, political fights that altered the course of history and the like. But they're also movies about people first, foremost and forever: folks whose everyday existence was perpetually shattered, including those lost and others left to endure when hostilities cease. Quo Vadis, Aida? is firmly a feature about both aspects of war. It homes in on one town, Srebrenica, in July 1995 during the 1992–95 Bosnian War, but it sees devastation and a human toll so intimate and vast in tandem that heartbreak is the only natural response. A survivor of the war herself, writer/director Jasmila Žbanić (Love Island, For Those Who Can Tell No Tales) knows that combat and conflict happens to ordinary men and women, that each casualty is a life cut short and that every grief-stricken relative who remains will never forget their magic ordeal — and she ensures that no one who watches Quo Vadis, Aida? can forget the Srebrenica massacre, or the fact that 8372 civilians were killed, either. A teacher-turned-interpreter, the eponymous Aida Selmanagic (Jasna Đuričić, My Morning Laughter) is Žbanić's eyes and ears within the demilitarised safe zone established by Dutch UN peacekeepers. The film doesn't adopt her exact point of view aesthetically — we see Aida, and plenty; Quo Vadis, Aida? wouldn't be the same without the tenacity and insistence that radiates from her posture and gaze — but it lives, breathes, feels, roves and yearns as she does. What she translates and for who around the UN base varies but, as she roves, she's primarily a channel between innocents scared for their lives and the bureaucracy endeavouring to keep the Bosnian Serb Army away. She visibly feels the weight of that task, whether speaking for the injured, scared and hungry all crammed into the facility or passing on instructions from her superiors. Aida has a mother's and wife's motivations, however: above all else, she wants her husband Nihad (Izudin Barjović, Father), a school principal, to be with her and to be safe — and the same for their sons Hamdija (Boris Ler, Full Moon) and Sejo (Dino Barjović, Sin), obviously. It's a mission to even get them in the base, with Colonel Karremans (Johan Heldenbergh, The Hummingbird Project) and his offsider Major Franken (Raymond Thiry, The Conductor) determined to not show any appearances of favouritism, especially with so many other refugees pleading to be allowed in outside. But Aida hustles, including getting Nihad sent to negotiations with Serbian General Ratko Mladić (Boris Isaković, Last Christmas) as a town representative. And as the General's brash, cocky, swaggering troops start escorting out the base's inhabitants and putting them onto buses depending upon their gender following those talks, Aida makes every desperate move she can to save her family. Quo Vadis, Aida? equally chronicles and shares Aida's reaction to the chaos and trauma around her. With Nihad, Hamdija and Sejo's lives at stake, the peacekeepers that Aida is helping refusing to assist by expanding the protections she enjoys to her loved ones, and the UN making moves that bow to Mladić — refusing to act otherwise, more accurately — Žbanić's film was always going to bustle forward in lockstep with its protagonist's emotional rollercoaster ride. That said Quo Vadis, Aida? is also an exacting movie in laying bare the complexities bubbling within the base, and the broader scenario. Unflinchingly, it sees how ineffective the UN's actions are, as ordered from far away with no sense of the reality on the ground. It recognises how outnumbered the peace effort is in Srebrenica, too. It spies the ruthlessness of the General and his forces, as was destined to happen when given even the slightest leeway. And it also spots how determined Aida is to safeguard her family, all while hurrying around thousands of others in the same precarious circumstances but without the possibility of anyone even trying to pull strings in their favour. Unlucky not to win the Best International Feature Oscar in 2021, and also nominated for the Best Director BAFTA the same year — losing to Another Year at the former and to Nomadland's Chloé Zhao at the latter — Quo Vadis, Aida? is a taut, rigorous, resonant, unshakeably potent balancing act. Žbanić's narrative works with such a wealth of moving parts, and such a mass of complications within everything that the storyline juggles, that the result is an intricately packed powderkeg of a movie. And, it's a relentless onslaught, always hurtling along like its lead. Quo Vadis, Aida? doesn't flit by too quickly or fail to give attention to everything that needs it, though. Rather, it's an urgent picture poised around something that happened more than a quarter-century back, but will forever demand to be given weight and gravity — as the murder of so many people always should. Žbanić's regular cinematographer Christine A Maier perfects her own balancing act as well, her imagery rushing with Aida but eschewing lensing with anything but a grim, plain, naturalistic air. To look at, the combination is intense and also grounded, evoking the sensation of stepping into the scene as closely as possible. As edited by Cold War and Never Gonna Snow Again's Jarosław Kamiński, similarly with a pace and rhythm to match Aida's, the film is also tense to a heart-pounding, sweat-inducing, nerve-shredding degree. Quo Vadis, Aida? takes its title from the traditional Christian story that states that the apostle Peter, fleeing crucifixion in Rome, passed the risen Jesus and asked him "whither goest thou?"; in Latin, quo vadis? The answer he received: to Rome to be crucified again. Viewers don't need to know that tale going in to feel the depth of the movie's probing, but Žbanić couldn't have given her feature a more meticulous moniker. Amid the empathy and clear-eyed candour that marks the unforgettable Quo Vadis, Aida? again and again — as Aida peers through the barbed-wire fencing keeping not-so-fortunate townsfolk out, speaks words on behalf of Karremans and Franken she knows will prove false, and begs for anyone's assistance — Đuričić is remarkable. She's fierce, brave, resolute and resilient while wading through practicalities, horrors and stolen moments of hope alike, and every fibre of her being conveys Aida's torturous emotional journey. Traversing every move with her, and every feeling, is simply a foregone conclusion. That's as true in Quo Vadis, Aida?'s epilogue, too, which layers the film's despair and outrage with a survey of the reality for the genocide's survivors. Žbanić once again walks an unnerving tightrope with mastery: whither goest thou indeed.
It has been a couple of years since The Jungle Collective first started taking over Australian warehouses and slinging plenty of plants, all thanks to its huge sales in Melbourne, Brisbane and Sydney. These leafy excuses to fill your home with greenery always have a bit of a celebratory vibe, and they just keep coming, with the outfit's next Melbourne outing happening across the weekend of Saturday, February 29 and Sunday, March 1. Gorgeous green babies are the main attraction — and more than 170 varieties of them, too. You'll pick up everything from fiddle leafs and monsteras to giant birds of paradise and rubber trees, as well as oh-so-many ferns and hanging plants. You'll also be able to shop for designer pots and get expert advice from the horticulturalists onsite. Oh, and if you wear a Hawaiian shirt — this is a tropicana party, after all — you'll receive $5 off your purchase. It's all happening at 36 Stephenson Street, Richmond, with sessions held at 8am, 10am, 12pm and 2pm on Saturday, plus 10am and 12pm on Sunday. Entry is free, but you'll need to register for a ticket — which you can do from 12pm on Monday, February 24.
Harry Potter is dead. He has ceased to be. He has expired, gone to meet his maker, 100 percent Avada Kedavra'd and this time love 'aint gonna bring him back. Be it known that his murderer was one Daniel 'never gonna pigeonhole me' Radcliffe, who killed off the boy wizard with a lethal dose of convincing American accent and a heady trinity of straight sex, gay sex and self-sex. But Kill Your Darlings is not a murder mystery. The title actually refers to some sage literary advice that writers ought delete their most beloved passages since they're inevitably the most self-indulgent. The film does open with a murder and revisits it in the climax, yet at its heart it is a coming-of-age tale for its protagonist — famed US poet Allen Ginsberg (Radcliffe). It's set in Manhattan during the early 1940s, when Ginsberg was just a college freshman at Colombia University, studying the classics but experiencing a growing disdain for the established order. Inspired by the free verse of Walt Whitman and the free spirit of his dormitory buddy Lucien Carr (Dane DeHaan), Ginsberg quickly fell down the sex-drugs-and-alcohol-fuelled rabbit hole of the underground literary sect, befriending future luminaries like Jack Kerouac (Jack Huston) and William Burroughs (Ben Foster). This was the beat generation finding its rhythm, and in that sense Kill Your Darlings tells something of an origin story for some of America's great storytellers. In the lead, Radcliffe's Ginsberg is a performance of transformation, not just of the character but for the actor, too. Both begin the film as timid young men in an alluring yet perilous world, burdened with complicated pasts and uncertain of how their contemporaries will judge them. By its end, they emerge as commanders of their art; fearless poets and performers. The wide-eyed wonderment with which Radcliffe's Potter viewed his magical world appears again here, though the temptations and possibilities are of an entirely different nature. Most notable is his infatuation with the manipulative Carr, played to perfection by DeHaan (The Place Beyond The Pines). Though never fully demonised, Carr's very much the villain in Kill Your Darlings — a blue-eyed, blonde-haired paramour whose hapless devotees (including Michael C. Hall) will do anything to please him, including writing assignments on his behalf. There's more than a bit of DiCaprio in the young actor, who's quickly ratcheting up an impressive backlog of performances, and his on-screen chemistry with Radcliffe is entirely engaging. There's a lot to like about this movie, and compared to other recent beat-era films (On The Road, Howl) it is easily the best. Filmed over just 24 days, it suffers from the occasional rough edges — both cinematically and textually — however, its fine performances and fascinating subject matter make it more than worth your while. https://youtube.com/watch?v=WRY2ogQpbvg
Fuelled by North Korea’s juche ideology of self-reliance and social betterment, this shoestring Australian doco is an oddball mashup of methods, concepts and cultures. Taking the techniques outlined in Kim Jong-il’s filmmaking manifesto The Cinema and Directing as her guide, director Anna Broinowski chronicles her own re-education in Pyongyang’s secretive film studios, where she hopes a crash course in propaganda will help her fight an environmentalist battle back home. While not particularly polished or probing, the final product is an amusing affair, one that also reveals the culturally transcendent power of shared artistic expression. Broinowski’s strange journey begins with the discovery that money-hungry gas companies want to frack near her suburban Sydney home. After attempts to make a more conventional documentary on the issue are stymied, the desperate filmmaker decides a more unorthodox method is in order. So Broinowski travels to the heart of Korea’s socialist stronghold, for tips from top filmmakers on how to discredit her capitalist foes. Upon returning to Australia, the newly invigorated people’s champion hires five unsuspecting actors for the strangest project of their lives: an anti-fracking short film made in Kim’s brazenly melodramatic style. With a premise this bizarre, it’s no wonder the movie is rather messy. Of the three often awkwardly interwoven plotlines, about coal seam gas, life in North Korea and the making of Broinowski’s short, it’s the scenes shot in Pyongyang that are easily the most compelling — although it’s as much for the things they don’t show as the things they do. Filmed under the scrutiny of North Korean officials, there’s no hint of oppression or poverty in Broinowski’s footage, save perhaps for the nervous eyes of a soldier, who pauses midway through an interview to ask the translator if he’s going to get “in trouble.” Less forgivable is the surface level discussion regarding the dangers of coal seam gas mining. Rather than drawing on scientific evidence, Broinowski treats viewers to a series of interviews with struggling farmers, including one man who blames a nearby gas well for his grandkid’s worsening health problems. One doesn’t doubt his anguish, but particularly in the context of a film about propaganda, it’s easy to see how Broinowski is exploiting the scene to manipulate the emotions of her audience. Conversely, the most memorable moments are those that feel most genuine. Most notably, while in Pyongyang, Broinowski somehow manages to convince Kim Jong-il’s favourite composer, Pae Yong-sam, to contribute the score for her short. For him, it’s the first time he’s worked with an Australian and it’s clear how much pride he takes in his work. Amidst all of Broinowski’s sometimes disorganised ideas, the simple notion that art can be a point of common ground is also her most insightful.
Following the release of their debut album, Howlin', earlier in 2013, Jagwar Ma have been on some kind of rampage touring across Europe, playing all the biggest festivals and establishing themselves as a live act that you simply have to see. Their last Australian shows were at Splendour in the Grass in July, but reports out of the Northern Hemisphere suggest that this band has gone to a whole other level in just a few short months. Summer in Melbourne will be the perfect setting for their highly danceable tunes, full of great grooves and an irresistible energy. Grab tickets to their gig at The Hi-Fi here.
This Toronto-based quartet are bringing their special breed of indie electronica to the Forum for one night only this December. Emily Haines is undoubtedly one of today’s greatest frontwomen, and her tenacity has in no way wavered since Metric's inception in 1998. Five albums and a handful of film scores later, Metric continue to perform to sold out arenas and headline music festivals all over the world. Metric have mastered the ability to convey contrasting emotions through their music; at times they are outspoken and aggressive, and at others vulnerable and tired from the fight. It is their highly identifiable sound of new wave synth combined with indie rock that unifies their music despite its thematic variation. This uncompromising sound is what has made them stand out and survive while trending genres have rotated around them. Supported by local Melbourne up-and-comers Glass Towers, this is sure to be an exhilarating night of music.
Good Food Month in upon us. There are so many delicious moments to come. Some of these moments, we feel, should come from the Night Noodle Markets. From the November 18 - 30 the Alexandra Gardens will become a hawker-style street market filled with food, booze and music. The best of all the things. The food will be served up from the likes of Chin Chin, Izakaya Den and Longrain as well as Gelato Messina — yes the ice cream gods have arrived in Melbourne just in time. Sydney saw these noodle markets first, but let’s show them who’s boss. Night markets are sort of our thing, right?
It's our favourite time of year. The warm weather is on its way, the promise of bare legs is becoming a reality, and we can begin to readjust our body clocks. The night is ours again. Launching on the same week as its sibling over at the Queen Victoria Markets, this southside alternative provides a different take on the ever-popular night market scene. With a bigger focus on fashion and design, the South Melbourne Night Market will feature the likes of Bleeker Street Vintage, Mr Simple, and Stone Glint & Bone all tucked away in the covered shopping strip along Conventry and Cecil Streets. Like any good market, another big drawcard will be the food, with offerings from favourites such as Trailer Made, Yogurddiction, and Chingon Taco Truck. All that aside, the most exciting part of the market is bound to be the entertainment. This year each night will have themes such as 'Mexican', 'Jamaican Carnivale', and 'Calypso' with corresponding musical acts to match. Our pick is 'Great Gatsby' on November 14. There's no better way to throw yourself back into the night than with a little jazz and some street food. The South Melbourne Night Market will be running every Thursday night until December 19.
Apparently Instagram has become a place to share more than just your weekend yolk porn. It can be used to share everyday beauty and design brilliance that we find on our travels. Not everyone uses it in this way, but Jeff Provan the founder of Neometro, and the creative eye behind the Open Journal Instagram does. Open Journal — starting online and now moving to print — explores both design, culture and the people behind both these things. From the iPhone to the gallery, Open Journal are holding an exhibition on Thursday November 7 housing approximately 250 design and architecture photographs from Australia and beyond. We're not sure if life is depicting art here or if art is depicting life. Either way, we're in and we're taking our phones. Instagram beware.
The NGV is currently stocked up with priceless Italian Renaissance paintings. Shipped straight from Spain's Royal Court, the artworks on display illustrate the technical prowess and much-lauded traditions of the great masters. In stark contrast to this, the gallery's entrance is about to get swarmed by a pack of life-sized bear sculptures covered in neon feathers. You definitely can't criticise the NGV for being predictable. These bears come from the hand of contemporary Italian artist Paola Pivi. Known for her surreal creations and cheeky sense of humour, You Started It... I Finished It follows on from her past exhibitions shown all around the world including OK, You Are Better Than Me, So What? in New York and Fant Ass Tic in Italy. See? She's pretty great. In this showing at Federation Court, Pivi is bringing eight of her flamboyant bears to play. All with distinct personalities, one leaps from the balcony towards incoming gallery patrons, others seem to be interacting with each other, and some are just dopey loners — curled up in a fantastical pink ball in the corner. Get ready, this may in fact be what heaven looks like. Image: Paola Pivi, exhibition view of OK, you are better than me, so what?, 2013, courtesy of Galerie Perrotin, New York. Photo: Guillaume Ziccarelli.
Singer-songwriter-model-actress-felon-general badass Sky Ferreira is back in the country for Splendour and ready to add to the substantial hype already surrounding the 21 year old. Only a few months on from her instantly sold out Australian tour, the indie starlet du jour is bringing her gritty rock-infused synth-pop to the Prince Bandroom on Wednesday July 23. Fresh off the back of supporting Miley Cyrus' Bangerz Tour, Ferreira will no doubt relish the change of pace with the more intimate venue allowing her to showcase the raw vulnerability of her debut LP Night Time, My Time. Ever the boundary-pusher with a self-described destructive streak, let's just hope the pop powerhouse manages to not get arrested, hospitalized or injured before making her much awaited return. If the sales from her previous shows are anything to go by, you'd want to get tickets now or else apply for a credit card and start honing your eBay skills. https://youtube.com/watch?v=pWo7SC-tG4U
One minute Sydney's Johnny Took, Matt Mason and Tommy O'Dell were writing nostalgic garage pop in a Newtown bedroom. The next, they were on high rotation on triple j and basking in Channel V praise along the lines of "terminally infectious" and "the next big thing". The trio's sweet acoustic sound first hit the ears of influential label I OH YOU (Violent Soho, DZ Deathrays) in September 2013. "A good friend (who I guess I owe a beer to now) called me up and began barking down my phone about an amazing young band from Newtown," explains I OH YOU director Johann Ponniah. After signing up, the lads released their self-titled debut EP on March 28, swanning into the iTunes Australian Charts at #7. Their single 'Delete' was heard on airwaves around the nation and spent some time hanging about the upper reaches of the ARIA Australian Artists Singles Chart. So this month, DMA's are embarking on their very first East Coast tour. https://youtube.com/watch?v=vKSWC5r1tYg
The National Gallery of Victoria are currently showcasing over 100 Italian works on loan from the Museo del Pardo in Madrid. The exhibition, Italian Masterpieces from Spain’s Royal Court, will mark the 11th offering in the NGV's Winter Masterpieces series. A series which began with The Impressionists in 2004, and has more recently included Napoleon: Revolution to Empire, and last year's Monet's Garden. Tony Ellwood, director of the NGV, says the exhibition "will captivate and amaze visitors, and will be complemented by a diverse range of engaging programs, lectures and events.” It will also be the first time these pieces, including iconic artworks by Raphael, Correggio and Titian, have travelled to our shores, providing audiences with a unique experience unrivalled in the Southern Hemisphere. That's right. You no longer need to be jealous of your friends' Instagram feeds while they're in Europe. The artworks, which were all once owned by the Spanish Royal Family, offer a large variety of works from the period featuring portraits, landscapes, history paintings measuring over three metres in length, and evocative imagery from both the Old and New Testaments. With such grandeur and passion, these Italian visionaries may be just the thing to cure our impending winter blues. Image: Raphael, Holy Family with Saint John or Madonna of the Rose (Sacra Famiglia con San Giovannino o Madonna della Rosa) (c. 1516), Image courtesy Museo del Prado, Madrid.
Texan psych-folk favourites Midlake have just announced they'll be heading to Australia to join the already amazing Vivid LIVE lineup. While in the country, they'll also be swinging by Melbourne's Corner Hotel for a show in late May with The Orbweavers and HOWQUA, but it's bad luck if you live anywhere else. This Australian tour — their first since 2010 — is a mere two stops long. The beardy sextet will be touring off the back of their recently released fourth studio album, Antiphon — and for a band who's been around for over a decade, their sound hasn't changed a whole lot. Since their breakthrough 2006 release, The Trials of Van Occupanther, and its standout singles 'Roscoe' and 'Young Bride', Midlake have always sounded a little like a contemplative day in the countryside. The kind of day where you rug up in a flannel shirt and suppress your emotional problems with a bottle of hard cider. The band itself has been facing some hardship recently as lead singer and songwriter Tim Smith left the band during the recording of their recent album to pursue other projects. Midlake will be touring without him in their Australian shows, to the disappointment of some long-term fans. But overall, the band is bouncing back well. Antiphon is a little more on the psych side of their signature psych-folk, but it will definitely complement a Vivid lineup that already includes The Pixies, St Vincent and James Vincent McMorrow.
People are often made to choose between science and the arts. As early as high school, we have an idea of whether we are a numbers or words person — the kind who will tackle VCE Literature with a smile or a frown. But the events that combine these two worlds are few and far between. Why can't we have both? Laborastory is one of these such events. Inviting five real-world scientists to the stage on the first Tuesday of every month, this local performance night breaks down the barriers between numbers and words with the power of storytelling. Far from a dry university lecture on ... photosynthesis (I'm obviously a words person who dropped science subjects at the end of Year 10), each performer at Laborastory lets you into their world and finds the funny in their fields of interest. Yes, there's bound to be some nerdy in-jokes but what safer space is there than a big room of science geeks?
The worlds of food and fashion are rarely combined. Stick-thin models drift along catwalks as though propelled by a slight breeze and jewellery seems to constantly take inspiration from flowers, feathers and other such traditionally feminine junk. Enter Lucy Folk — the designer who wants you to wear nachos around your neck and carry a gold-plated clutch shaped like a taco. Though significantly more expensive than your average pizza, cucumber or watermelon, the wares of this local designer are hitting Yule House on Thursday May 15 for a one-day sample sale. All collections — including Dip, All Sorts, Pizza, Bento and Feast — will see whopping 75 percent discounts and every piece on sale will be under $300. Get down from 10am with some cash in hand as there won't be any EFTPOS facilities. And make sure you get in early to snag the best pieces — there's literally never been a better time to wear a pizza around your neck than now.
Your favourite afternoon of ladies, literature and endless love for Marieke Hardy is back. Women of Letters has just touched down from an successful stint in both the UK and US, and now they're settling back into their roots — Melbourne or, more specifically, the Regal Ballroom in Northcote. If you haven't yet been, Women of Letters is a regular event co-curated by writers Marike Hardy and Michaela McGuire that attempts to drag the long lost art of letter-writing back into popular usage. Asking a host of successful ladies to the stage, Women of Letters is all about sharing stories and the celebrating the indomitable spirit of girl power. This monthly instalment will see writer and deputy editor of The Lifted Brow Stephanie van Schilt, singer-songwriter Jess McAvoy, and musician Evelyn Morris (known better as Pikelet) pen 'A Letter To My Mysterious Stranger'. A topic so broad it could include both harrowing tales of mysterious heroes in moments of near-death as well as that time Hannah Horvath tried to roleplay with Adam in Girls. Yay, feminism! Grab tickets via Oztix or at the door, if still available.
How’s this for a young gun? Jake Bugg played his first Glastonbury at age 17, and his debut album went straight to number one in the 2012 UK charts and his second album Shangri La, produced by the legendary Rick Rubin, has enjoyed immense critical success. When Rolling Stone and Q Magazine peg someone to be the next big thing, you can’t help but have a little listen for yourself. Bugg is working on some new material at the moment, but in the meantime has released his Messed Up Kids EP, which perfectly captures today’s restless youth. He will be playing two shows at the Palace in April, or you can make the trip up to Byron Bay Bluesfest. He'll no doubt be worth it.
Babe alert. Megan Washington has a new single out and she's spreading her good vibes around Brunswick's Howler this weekend. The catchy but soulful hit, 'Who Are You?', breaks a two-year silence we've suffered from this Aussie songstress, and it will no doubt kick off a great night of music at a refreshingly intimate venue. Also, is it just us, or does the opening melody of 'ooh's sound a little like the coveted tune from 'Bohemian Rhapsody'? A+ sing-a-long material right there. This new single is the result of some time spent in London recording with producer Samuel Dixon (the guy behind both Sia and Adele), and comes as a taste tester to some new material set to be released later in the year. For those who are still playing catch up, that'll be Washington's second full-length release following her 2010 debut I Believe You Liar and 2011 EP Insomniac. Your homework before the gig: re-listen to 'The Hardest Part' and 'Holy Moses' while skipping and fist pumping around your house. Feisty happiness is a hard emotion to pin down, but it fits this music perfectly. https://youtube.com/watch?v=Vlm99lZv5ck
Puberty is a time of our lives often wilfully forgotten. The hormones, the hair, the social awkwardness and general awfulness... the mental scars rival the ones left over from our acne. But with this work, Sydney artist Jackson Fydim Stacy asks us to reexamine the maligned rite of passage in the best way possible. In the simplest terms, Testosterdome is a puberty-themed video games arcade. Instead of Dance Dance Revolution, Stacy gives us Sad Boy Hoop Shooter — a game in which we "slam dunk our repressed emotions"; the obligatory race-car game is transformed to a way of chasing girls. All of this does however come with a message. Stacy is a queer transgender artist who described the process of coming out and taking hormones a kind of "second puberty" — a complex time of transition that's not as easy to forget as teenage wet dreams. This event originally appeared as one of our top picks for the 2014 Next Wave Festival. See the full list here.
Boy & Bear are kicking off the 'Old Town Blues' on their upcoming tour to perform after the 'Southern Sun' sets. Travelling by 'Arrow Flight' and 'Bridges', the Sydney boys will not be stopping at 'Percy Warner Park' but they will be enjoying 'Milk and Sticks' at The Forum, a piece of 'Real Estate' they are no 'Stranger' to, on November 3 to provide all their fans with 'A Moment's Grace'. This is far from the 'End of the Line', with the band enjoying a 'Harlequin Dream' of a year. 'Lordy May' has it been big; they have played across the globe, allowing them to stay off the 'Feeding Line', and transformed any 'Part Time Believers' into full-time fans with the release of their critically acclaimed sophomore album. At only $47.70 you won't need to trade your 'Blood to Gold', so get out of 'The Village', leave the 'House and Farm' and step off the 'Beach' to join the 'Big Man', 'Mexican Mavis' and the 'Three Headed Woman' in singing 'Rabbit Song' and experiencing a night of glorious indie music more exciting than a 'Golden Jubilee'. (Writing a Boy & Bear preview primarily using only their song titles is much harder than it looks, okay.)
Bang! Crash! Tap! That's the sound of tap dance mashed up with hip hop and amazing acrobatics. Put together by RAW Dance Company and performed by some of Australia's liveliest tap dancers, the show is an enviable lineup of dance talent. But it will also be an exciting musical display as it features the work of international beatboxing champion Dr. Rhythm. It promises to deliver laughs, gasps and a live drummer — as well as more dexterity of hand, foot and heart than most of us can poke a stick at. The award-winning RAW Dance Company has toured the world over, including a recent stint on Broadway in New York, and their productions are known for being wild dance extravaganzas of uncurbed energy. Go marvel at these deft dancers as they take athleticism, charisma and a frenzied kind of madness to dizzying new heights.
This year's festival will be opened with a traditional tanderrum — a welcoming ceremony from elders of the Kulin nations granting permission for guests to use the land and resources. However, this won't be any ordinary Welcome to Country; the tanderrum will be orchestrated by the Ilbijerri Theatre Company and will include music and performance, as well as rich storytelling which adheres strongly to the traditions of the land. Once the ceremony is complete, Archie Roach will be performing a free concert with a 10-piece band. All on the wide, open grounds of Fed Square, the evening promises to be a respectful and community-oriented first note for a festival that showcases talent from all over the world. Check out the rest of our picks for the Melbourne Festival here.
In what could be a nice new trend for the Australian music scene, a small British invasion is taking place and the first group riding the wave is the psychedelic indie band, TOY. As part of a new live music series, Bulmers Underground, TOY are on their way to Australia to headline shows in Brisbane, Melbourne and Sydney. The band, formed in 2010, have wasted no time over the past 3 years making a name for themselves, woth various members coming from moderately successful bands in the past. The music that TOY creates are distorted rock’n’roll concoctions that evoke the psychedelic peaks of the '70s, but are contorted and refined so as to make the music contemporary and refreshing. TOY’s debut album sold out of its initial pressing not long after release, and have since gone on to perform with The Horrors and Primal Scream. Be sure to grab a ticket before they are all snapped up, and keep your eyes peeled for more international guests from Bulmers Underground.
Ash Grunwald is back, ready to tour his unique sound to the ears of Australians nationwide. He won't be alone though, having teamed up with bass-straddler Scott Owen and drumming maverick Andy Strachan of The Living End fame. The unlikely trio have been jamming and have created a heavier sound than Grunwald fans may be used to, but it is well suited to his rustic vocals and if the first product of their activity in the studio is anything to go by, the live show promises to be electric. The dreadlocked talent and his band of misfits will be taking to the stage at The Corner Hotel on Thursday June 27 and the Prince Bandroom the next day. Who knows how long this collection of Australian musical talent will band together for, so why not let them surprise you while they can.
UPDATE, January 29, 2021: The Hustle is available to stream via Stan. 2016's most controversial movie wasn't afraid of no ghosts, nor of updating a beloved classic with a gender-flipped spin. The backlash to the new Ghostbusters was as loud as it was stupid, however lost in the noise were two crucial facts. Firstly, the film is hilarious, fun and genuinely great. Secondly, it does exactly what a female-led version of a familiar property should. With all the ridiculous focus on why the supernatural comedy wasn't a carbon copy of the 80s flicks, and why women are now allowed to chase the paranormal (correct answer: why the hell not?), the movie didn't get recognition for its most significant feat. It doesn't lazily insert ladies into a thin rehash, but shapes its antics and jokes around them. That really shouldn't be so rare and astonishing, and yet so often it is. Take The Hustle, for example. It's the latest film to subscribe to the obvious motto that anything men can do, women can too, but it also takes that notion much too literally. Everything that 1988's Dirty Rotten Scoundrels did, this movie apes beat for beat, just with Anne Hathaway and Rebel Wilson instead of Michael Caine and Steve Martin. Scoundrels was a remake itself, updating 1964's Bedtime Story, so the narrative has been around for more than half a century — and yet familiarity isn't the only problem here. For a couple of average pictures about scheming conmen ripping off wealthy women, The Hustle's predecessors actually came packaged with some smart social critique, skewering the battle of the sexes in the process. Alas, as a presumably unintended consequence of pushing girls to the front, the narrative's best and most biting elements have now disappeared, including its savvy female empowerment strand. Making a couple of supremely confident male grifters reliant upon women to get by, as the first two films did, made a satirical statement. Tasking two female fraudsters with fleecing rich men to punish their misdeeds doesn't have the same impact, unsurprisingly. The Hustle pulls its punches in other ways too, as seen in its terrible final twist (without heading into spoiler territory, let's just say that it's a case of not thinking the whole switcheroo through). Story-wise, Hathaway's Josephine Chesterfield is the swindling queen bee in the cashed-up French beachside town of Beaumont-sur-Mer, while Wilson's fellow scammer Penny Rust is her exact opposite. One robs super rich guys with long cons, the other cheats sleazeballs with quick tricks, and they're soon locked in a turf war. The solution: the first to snare a cool half a million out of their latest mark, baby-faced tech whiz Thomas (Alex Sharp), can keep pulling capers on the Riviera. Hathaway also starred in last year's big gender-swapped heist flick, Ocean's 8, and the end result is sadly somewhat similar. The Hustle thinks that plonking female stars into the same old scenario is enough; women should just be happy that studios are even bothering, apparently. It's the type of supposed progress that takes two steps forward and then the same amount back, because no one wants to see ladies slavishly retracing men's footsteps. Here, a heap of the film's narrative details also take on an uncomfortable tone, leaning on outdated stereotypes and cliches even in an obvious farce. Women romancing men for their money? Ruthlessly competing for — and measuring their worth based on — male attention? Cattily battling it out? That's not clever or amusing. It's not subversive in its sexual politics either, as much as the movie pretends the latter is true ("no man will ever believe a woman is smarter than he is," Josephine offers, explaining her success). Like much about the picture, it's just tired. With Hathaway's fake posh English accent clashing with Wilson's distinctive Australian drawl, The Hustle's stars are its biggest strength. Of course, they're really just doing what they're already known for doing well. Still, it's easy to see why the film exists, on paper at least, based on their odd-couple pairing. They each do their best with the material — Hathaway perhaps more so than Wilson, who doubles as one of the movie's producers. The duo also benefit from a few snappy one-liners, which are improved by their delivery. But screenwriter Jac Schaeffer (Disney short Olaf's Frozen Adventure) does little else to liven up the photocopied script, which is also credited to Dirty Rotten Scoundrels' Dale Launer, as well as long-dead Bedtime Story scribes Stanley Shapiro and Paul Henning. British actor-turned-filmmaker Chris Addison keeps everything blandly light, scenic and fluffy, however that's barely all there is to his feature directorial debut. Well, that and an ill-thought-out do-over that does female-fronted remakes zero favours and scams itself more than anything else. You'd never guess that Addison was one of the stars of the savagely hilarious sitcom The Thick of It, or a director on its US counterpart, Veep. In fact, imagining what the acerbic characters of those shows would say about this flick is funnier than every second of The Hustle. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yfWv51T8TJ0
There are plenty of ways to show your love for Parks and Recreation. Here's three: sitting at home re-binging the series, spending some time in your local park and doing Leslie Knope proud, and saying "literally" when you're referring to anything and everything. Welcome to Thornbury has another, and it involves whiskey, bacon and a saxophone soundtrack — plus a visit from a miniature horse they're calling Li'l Sebastian. Yes, it's Ron Swanson Day at the food truck hangout on April 7, with La Revolucion, The Rib Crib, Maverick n Goose, Those Guys Food, Belles Hot Chicken and Mr Burger all getting in on the action. So is Let's Waffle 'n' Shake, because you can't have a Parks-themed day without multiple types of breakfast food. As Ron Swanson himself would expect, there'll be Lagavulin specials on offer, plus other amber spirits. And, if you're feeling particularly adventurous, look out for some Snake Juice. No word on whether DJ Roomba will be onsite dropping some beats.
A genuine cultural phenomenon in Japan and a growing influence on animation worldwide, anime enjoys a strong cult following in Australia. Fans will lap up the films on offer at this year's Reel Anime festival, which includes two reboots of legendary anime series. Evangelion: 3.0 You Can (Not Redo) is part three of the reinvention of the legendary Neon Genesis Evangelion series, while Ghost in the Shell: Arise is the first instalment of the mega-popular Ghost in the Shell's new series and takes place in the near future as the world recovers from World War IV. Ghost in the Shell screens with writer director Makoto Shinkai's The Garden of Words, a melancholy story of a teen who dreams of becoming a shoemaker and an unlikely friendship he forms with an older woman. Then there's A Letter to Momo, which was seven years in the making and has drawn comparisons to the phenomenal Studio Ghibli, producers of masterpieces like Princess Monokone and Arriety. https://youtube.com/watch?v=Ie6T0tk5Vvc
Can you think of a better way to spend a muggy, summer night than to head down to St Kilda for an outdoor movie? From November 30 to December 20, American Express is bringing its outdoor cinema to Melbourne. Movies on the big screen will include Murder on the Orient Express, Thor: Ragnorok, Bad Moms 2, Love Actually, Dirty Dancing and Elf. Fitzroy's Ladro will host a series of three-course, wine-paired dinners — on three nights, Neapolitan-style dishes and wood-fired pizza will be brought out on long dining tables for an al fresco meal. In addition, there will be 20 events across the installation, including live music performances, DJs, trivia and a craft area with masterclasses in knitting and macrame. Every Sunday, $3 from your ticket will go to OzHarvest to provide meals for people in need. You'll also be able to make use of the bar, serving 4 Pines beer, Giesen wines, cocktails, frosé and Aperol spritz all night long. Oh, and it's a dog-friendly space with special picnic platter for the pooch, so you don't need to leave part of your family at home. Plus if you're an Amex user you'll get 15% off tickets, plus a lounger and bites for the movie.
Looking to step up your regular trivia game? Over in Richmond, The National Hotel is giving the humble pub quiz a fun — and sinister — twist with another instalment of its murder mystery-themed trivia nights. The session will feature four quiz rounds, with punters answering questions and collecting clues along the way to help solve the final whodunit puzzle. Topics will cover everything from pop culture to general knowledge, so you'd best start brushing up on some facts. There's a swag of prizes up for grabs, from jugs of beer, to a huge $150 bar tab for the night's champion team. Entry's free and you can even bring along your pup. Round up a team of between four and six players and book your spot by emailing functions@thenationalhotel.com.au.
In King Richard, Will Smith does more acting than expected with his back to the on-screen action. He does more acting in general — while the Ali and Concussion star can be a transformative performer, here he feels like he's overtly playing a part rather than disappearing into a role — but the way his eponymous figure handles his daughters' matches instantly stands out. Richard Williams is a tennis parent who despises the usual tennis parent histrionics. At the time the film is set, in the early 90s, he has also coached Venus (Saniyya Sidney, Fences) and Serena (Demi Singleton, Godfather of Harlem) since they were four years old, and penned a 78-page plan mapping out their futures before they were born. He's dedicated his life to their success; however, he's so restless when they're volleying and backhanding that he can't bring himself to watch. These scenes in King Richard are among Smith's best. He's anxious yet determined, and lives the feeling like he's breathing it, in some of the movie's least blatantly showy and most quietly complex scenes as well. The Williams family patriarch has wisdom for all occasions, forged from a tough childhood in America's south, plus the hard work and hustle of turning Venus and Serena into budding champions, so he'd likely have something to say about the insights gleaned here: that you can tell oh-so-much about a person when they're under pressure but nobody's watching. If he was actively imparting this lesson to his daughters — five of them, not just the two that now have 30 Grand Slam singles titles between them — and they didn't glean it, he'd make them watch again. When they see Cinderella in the film, that's exactly what happens. But his courtside demeanour is teachable anyway, recognising how all the preparation and effort in the world will still see you tested over and over. King Richard mostly lobs around smaller moments, though — still life-defining for the aforementioned trio, matriarch Oracene (Aunjanue Ellis, Lovecraft Country) and the rest of the Williams brood, but before Venus and Serena became women's tennis superstars. It unpacks the effort put in to even get them a game, set or match and be taken seriously in a sport that's whiter than the lines marking out its courts, and the chances, sacrifices and wins of their formative years. From cracked Compton courts and homemade hype videos to seizing every hard-earned opportunity: that's the tale that King Richard tells. But, despite making a clear effort to pose this as a family portrait rather than a dad biopic, it still shares an approach with Joe Bell, director Reinaldo Marcus Green's prior film. It bears one man's name, celebrates him first and makes him the centre of someone else's exceptional story. In screenwriter Zach Baylin's debut script, Richard's aim is simple: get Venus and Serena to racquet-swinging glory by any means. His DIY tapes are bait for a professional coach, but attracting one is easier said than done for a working-class Black family without country club connections facing America's inbuilt racism and class clashes, and tennis' snobbery — even if Richard knows his daughters will reach their goals. A turning point comes when, after strolling into a practice match between Pete Sampras and John McEnroe, Richard convinces renowned coach Paul Cohen (Tony Goldwyn, Scandal) to watch his kids play and take on Venus for free. While she's swiftly impressing on the junior circuit, her dad becomes concerned about her psychological and emotional wellbeing, so he next works his persuasive act on Florida-based coach Rick Macci (Jon Bernthal, The Many Saints of Newark) — with a strict no-competition rule. One of the keys to King Richard, as witnessed in its namesake's decisions about his daughters that he unyieldingly makes alone, also proves an ace when he's looking away courtside. This is a movie about how Richard put Venus and Serena on their path to becoming two of the greatest sports women ever, but it's also about imperfections, struggles and contradictions in the pursuit of excellence. That said, it's an authorised account with the tennis legends and their sister Isha Price as executive producers, so it only dives as deep as that whole situation allows. When it focuses on difficult instances where the overbearing and stubborn Richard blazes ahead but Oracene, Venus and Serena call him out and demand their say, it's a better film, although that happens less often than it should. There's texture, weight and complication here, but also a crowd-pleasing smoothing of rough edges that undercuts the feature's power. The Williams sisters deserve multiple movies about their extraordinary achievements, obviously. Their careers stress that inherently. The standout scenes they're given here — including Serena's unhappiness when put second to her sister; today, she's the one that's considered the greatest of all time — also dynamically make the case for more of their tale to reach cinemas. While always in Smith's shadow, both Sidney and Singleton are phenomenal, but the film has been designed to be the former's show. With a hunched posture and pronounced Louisiana accent, Smith is an inescapable force surrounded by far more naturalistic portrayals, including from the terrific and grounded Ellis; however, he grows into a rhythm that matches the film's message. He calls upon the charm that's been a part of his game since his Fresh Prince days, too, and pushes because Richard had to to succeed "in the champion-raising business," as the character describes it. For all the sunny hues splashed around by cinematographer Robert Elswit (a veteran of Paul Thomas Anderson's Boogie Nights, Magnolia, Inherent Vice and more), King Richard doesn't opt for gloss with the clashes working against the Williams' dream. Although Venus's professional debut in 1994 at the age of 14 and her pivotal match against then-world number two Arantxa Sánchez Vicario provides the picture's climax, it's sparing with its tennis bouts, but the battles of race and class in Venus and Serena's way are in the draw from the get-go — discussed, and also made so visible that no line calls are needed. It took a flawed yet dogged king to navigate such relentless serves of engrained prejudice and disadvantage and ensure that the world received two queens, the film posits, and does so convincingly. King Richard is still an easy win, though, rather than an all-timer.
Last year was a big one for Aussie comic Sam Simmons, selling out shows at Soho Theatre in London and scoring his second nomination for the top prize at Edinburgh Fringe. Returning to home turf, the latest show from the former Triple J trivia master has been described by the comic himself as “55 minutes of me being a full-bore dickhead.” With his trademark blend of surrealism and irritability, the performance got great reviews when it played in Adelaide last month.
If ever there was a reason to shake up your usual Taco Tuesday plans, it's this: this year, National Taco Day falls on a Monday. Specifically, next Monday, October 4. And Preston Market's much-loved taco van Cornutopia will have you celebrating the occasion in style, as it drops the price of its tortilla-based treats to just $3 a pop, for one day only. From 11.30am, you'll find beef, chicken, fish and veggie tacos going for an easy $3 each, featuring signature fillings and secret spices piled into soft corn tortillas. Simply rock up and grab a few of your favourites to-go, or pre-order online for pick up on the day. The taco specials will run alongside Cornutopia's usual menu of Mexican street eats, including burritos, cheesy nachos and quesadillas. [caption id="attachment_827296" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Chip Mooney[/caption] Images: Cornutopia and Chip Mooney.
From Indigenous identity to body shape, many of the performances at Dance Massive 2015 are about challenging our perceptions. It’s especially true of Do You Speak Chinese?, from choreographer and dancer Victoria Chiu. Like many Australians with Chinese heritage, Chiu doesn't speak a word of Mandarin. Despite this, because of her outward appearance, she's often thought of as Chinese. Her new work, developed in collaboration with dancer Kristina Chan, seeks to explore the connection between race, physicality and language, and how what we look like often speaks for us before we're given the chance to do so for ourselves. The hour-long show hits the Malthouse Theatre on Tuesday, March 17 and runs through until Saturday. For more information about the shows at Dance Massive 2015, visit www.dancemassive.com.au.
The world renowned violinist, acclaimed author, sassy singer and all-round enthralling performer, Emilie Autumn, is bound for Australian shores this week and ready to amaze audiences at the iconic Espy on Friday night. The tour was announced last year following the release of Autumn's third and most successful studio album, Fight Like a Girl, which was inspired by her book The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls and her own intimate personal experiences. Emilie Autumn describes her musical style as "victoriandustrial", largely because she draws inspiration from poetry, plays, novels and history, particularly from the Victorian era. Think punk meets classical meets burlesque mixed in with a dash of darkwave and synth pop to create a theatrical musical feast like no other — and of course we can't forget the whacky stage constumes which have helped push Autumn to fashion icon status in recent years. The beats of all girl backing band The Bloody Crumpets will add an extra dose of spice to the already dazzling performance. With a stage presence as bright and extravagant as her hair, Emilie Autumn is a refreshingly unique addition to the 21st century music scene who has to be seen to be appreciated.
Prepare yourself for a fresh dose a local theatre. After a successful first season in 2015, the Poppy Seed Theatre Festival is blossoming once again, showcasing four ambitious new works from Melbourne-based companies over five exciting weeks. Running from November 8 to December 11, Poppy Seed kicks off with Blessed by Attic Erratic, a dark, candid work about religion, dogma and intergenerational poverty. Next up comes LadyCake, a modern day take on the story of Marie Antoinette presented by Three Birds Theatre. That'll be followed by What's Yours is Mine, described as "an otherworldly experience" about the Australian dream from the unconventional folk at Hotel Now. The festival will wrap up with F. by Riot Stage, an exploration of teenage sex in a post-internet world. You can purchase tickets to individual Poppy Seed Shows, or save money with a season pass. For more details including venue information visit poppyseedfestival.com.
Tired of the dating game? There may be a better way. Conscious Dating, which runs events for 'mindful singles', is hosting a pair of get-togethers in Melbourne this weekend, including their first event for gay men. Single gay guys are invited to Argyle Street in Fitzroy (exact location TBA) on the evening of Friday, March 10 for a night of chilled-out meditation accompanied by hang drum music. Wine, herbal tea and finger food will be provided, and there'll be ample time for single mingling before the night is through. On the following night in the same location, those attracted to the opposite sex can take part in a life-drawing session before breaking the ice with some (apparently 'non-cringey') challengers and conversation starters. Hey, it can't possibly be any worse than Tinder!
