Just over a decade ago, Noomi Rapace was The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo — The Girl Who Played with Fire and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, too. After starring in the first film adaptations of Steig Larsson's best-selling Millennium books, the Swedish actor then brought her penchant for simmering ferocity to Alien prequel Prometheus, and to movies as varied as erotic thriller Passion, crime drama The Drop and Australian-shot thriller Angel of Mine. But Lamb might be her best role yet, and best performance. A picture that puts her silent film era-esque features to stunning use, it stares into the soul of a woman not just yearning for her own modest slice of happiness, but willing to do whatever it takes to get it. It also places Rapace opposite a flock of sheep, and has her cradle a baby that straddles both species; however, this Icelandic blend of folk-horror thrills, relationship dramas and even deadpan comedy is as human as it is ovine. At first, Lamb is all animal. Something rumbles in the movie's misty, mountainside farm setting, spooking the horses. In the sheep barn, where cinematographer Eli Arenson (Hospitality) swaps arresting landscape for a ewe's-eye view, the mood is tense and restless as well. Making his feature debut, filmmaker Valdimar Jóhannsson doesn't overplay his hand early. As entrancing as the movie's visuals prove in all their disquieting stillness, he keeps the film cautious about what's scaring the livestock. But Lamb's expert sound design offers a masterclass in evoking unease from its very first noise, and makes it plain that all that eeriness, anxiety and dripping distress has an unnerving — and tangible — source. The farm belongs to Rapace's Maria and her partner Ingvar (Hilmir Snær Guðnason, A White, White Day), who've thrown themselves into its routines after losing a child. They're a couple that let their taciturn faces do the talking, including with each other, but neither hides their delight when one ewe gives birth to a hybrid they name Ada. Doting and beaming, they take the sheep-child into their home as their own. Its woolly mother stands staring and baa-ing outside their kitchen window, but they're both content in and fiercely protective of their newfound domestic happiness. When Ingvar's ex-pop star brother Pétur (Björn Hlynur Haraldsson, Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga) arrives unexpectedly, they don't even dream of hiding their new family idyll — even as he's initially shocked and hardly approving. Jóhannsson isn't one for telling rather than showing, as Lamb's sparse dialogue ensures. That said, he doesn't unveil Ada a second before he needs to, either. While Maria has a little lamb and its fleece is as white as snow, the film spends much of its first half revelling in how the creature's arrival drastically alters the household's mood. Lamb is firmly a tone poem, in fact, living, bleating and breathing in its titular critter's wake. Something sinister still dwells — and recurrent shots of Iceland's towering surroundings still ripple with foreboding — but Maria and Ingvar have eagerly snatched up what bliss they can. Smartly, when the revealing shot comes, and also when Ada keeps being seen in all her human-animal glory (courtesy of live animals and children, plus CGI and also puppetry), Jóhannsson's winning mix of anticipation and playfulness isn't shorn away. It's easy to spy another picture from this part of the world with an ovine focus and think of Rams (the original, not the 2020 Australian remake). Recalling A White, White Day's musing on grief and its stunning use of wintry landscapes is just as straightforward as well. Throw in the fact that Lamb frolics forth from US distributor A24 — home to fellow folk-horror hits The Witch and Midsommar, the nightmarishly atmospheric Hereditary and The Lighthouse, and the dark and discomforting The Lobster and The Killing of a Sacred Deer, with the company's moniker now accepted in filmic circles as shorthand for a particular type of indie flick — and believing you know what's in store is equally understandable. But like Robert Eggers, Ari Aster and Yorgos Lanthimos, the directors behind those aforementioned features, Jóhannsson has made a disquieting and dazzling movie that couldn't be more distinctive. Indeed, just as Ada is her own creature, Lamb is its own singular film. Nursery rhyme nods and fairy tale-like touches add extra layers to Lamb's contemplation of parenthood, loss and all the stress that comes with each; however, the movie's religious symbolism is less effective. Christmas songs echo, placing the film at a time of year already loaded with meaning. A manger obviously exists on the farm, too. Also, having a woman called Maria embrace motherhood after a miraculous birth clearly isn't an accidental move on Jóhannsson and co-screenwriter Sjón (an Icelandic poet and frequent Bjork collaborator's) behalf. What rings loudest among these inclusions is the notion of grasping onto whatever you need to in order to understand and endure all that life throws your way. Lamb is also a movie about nature versus nurture, so brooding over the impact of choices both overt and innate cosily resides in the same paddock. Enticing, surreal and starkly unsettling all at once, Lamb also benefits from exceptional animal performances — it won the Cannes Film Festival's Grand Jury Prize for Palm Dog, the prestigious event's awards for best canine acting — and its own savvy. It nabbed Un Certain Regard Prize of Originality at Cannes as well, but the movie's shrewdness isn't limited to its standout concept. Each patient shot that roves over the hillside, peeks through the fog, and soaks in the strain and pressure is just as astute. Each rustle, huff and jangle in the film's soundscape proves the same. Every aesthetic decision paints Lamb in unease and uncertainty, in fact, and lets its lingering gaze towards the steely Rapace, affecting Guðnason and their four-legged co-stars unleash an intense and absurdist pastoral symphony of dread and hope, bleakness and sweetness, and terror and love.
Downton Abbey has always been the TV equivalent of a cup of tea: warm, soothing, a tad sugary, but reliably serving up an escape from everyday woes. Airing for six seasons from 2010–15, the 1920s-set British TV series was a hit for many reasons, letting audiences get lost in the soapy intrigue of a lavish Yorkshire mansion chief among them. That, and watching Maggie Smith sling barbs, make quips, and put anyone in their place, a skill that the veteran actor wields oh-so-well. It's been nearly four years between sips, but both the show and its beloved octogenarian are back. They're on the big screen this time around, however this is the epitome of a television movie. It's filled with everyone's favourite characters, hits all of the familiar marks, overflows with slim subplots that get wrapped up before the end credits, and leaves viewers feeling happy and cosy. With the film taking place in 1927, more than a year has passed for Downton Abbey's inhabitants, but it's business as usual at the titular manor. That's until royal news arrives, with King George V (Simon Jones) and Queen Mary (Geraldine James) planning to stop by for a visit. Naturally, excitement abounds among the aristocratic Crawley family and their loyal staff. It's the latter that have to weather the most obstacles, though. Dreaming of attending to Their Majesties, they soon discover that the Crown will be bringing their own servants with them. That's not the Downton Abbey way, of course, and the house's maids, butlers, cooks, footmen and the like won't give up their chance to shine for the kingdom without a fight. There's plenty of story to go around, and plenty of people to navigate the regal antics. Patriarch Robert Crawley (Hugh Bonneville) isn't too fussed, and nor is his wife Cora (Elizabeth McGovern), although that's largely because their daughter, Lady Mary (Michelle Dockery), takes charge. His mother Violet (Smith) is spoiling to confront her cousin Maud (Imelda Staunton), who's also the Queen's lady-in-waiting, about an inheritance. Among the upstairs residents, Tom Branson (Allen Leech) gets the most interesting narrative arc — an ex-chauffeur who married into the family, and an Irish Republican, it's suspected that he may cause trouble during the royal stay. Downstairs, retired butler Carson (Jim Carter) has been asked back for the occasion, much to his replacement Barrow's (Rob James-Collier) dismay. Kitchen maid Daisy (Sophie McShera) isn't quite ready to plan her wedding to footman Andy (Michael C. Fox), and Mary's maid Anna Bates (Joanne Froggatt) is on the trail of a thief. The list goes on, with more than 25 characters receiving substantial screen-time. Penned by Julian Fellowes, like all 52 episodes of the TV show, Downton Abbey takes the more-is-more approach. This cinematic last hurrah is packed with as much as it possibly can manage, which is great news for existing fans, but comes across as rushed for newcomers. No one gets too much attention, no storyline feels particularly important and there's little in the way of tension. The blueprint of each subplot gleams as obviously as the mansion's lavish surfaces, too, even when the movie keeps jumping from one minor drama to the next. Rather than telling a rousing new tale in a fleshed-out fashion, Fellowes and director Michael Engler are more concerned with letting Downton diehards spend a bit of extra time with the well-to-do crew and their kindly subordinates. The pair do just that, however that doesn't mean uninitiated viewers aren't catered for. Nearly two decades after winning a screenwriting Oscar for Gosford Park, actor-turned-writer Fellowes has become the fount of all knowledge regarding English upstairs-downstairs shenanigans — and even when he's keeping things light and slight, the results are enjoyable to watch. As well as possessing an ear for the rhythm of everyday banter among posh and ordinary folks alike, he understands the class clashes between them, plus the similarities that draw them together. He also knows and conveys a crucial fact: that the dynamic between the upper echelons and the help isn't as consigned to the past as it may seem. Downton Abbey is a historical fantasy where scant little changes, but there's a reason that the period program struck such a chord over the last decade. As the political landscape becomes more and more fractured around the globe, the series recognises society's divisions while leaning into comfort, safety and stability in a gentle and unchallenging manner. Comfort, at least visually, might just be an understatement. There isn't much to rationalise Downton Abbey's release in theatres instead of on TV (other than the likely box office windfall, that is), but the lavish costuming and grand set design look a treat on the silver screen. Indeed, other than Smith doing what the program has always tasked her with doing best, the film's imagery is the star of the show. While the rest of the cast perform exactly as they're asked — as is to be expected nine years after the series first premiered — this isn't an actor-driven affair. Really, it's a big hug goodbye in movie form, offering up a huge embrace to eager aficionados and giving a pleasant-enough squeeze to everyone else. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GbV8LpEzYgQ
Whenever projectors have whirred in 2023, it has sometimes been thanks to seasoned filmmakers at the top of their games. Whenever silver screens have come alive with new sound-and-vision delights, it's sometimes been due to new voices making glorious debuts, too. Both are hallmarks of an exceptional year at the movies, as the 15 best films of 2023 show — because when beloved greats are delivering the goods and the next generations are making instant masterpieces, the state of cinema as an artform is glowing. The one caveat to the above, and a reminder that's worth repeating each and every year: thanks to the hundreds of titles that make their way to picture palaces across each annual calendar, there's no such thing as a bad 12 months of films. Still, each year's crop is boasts its own wonders, surprises and thrills — and 2023 was no different. Not all movies can be stunners, of course, but this year brought electrifying takes on Frankenstein, plus both Martin Scorsese and Hayao Miyazaki's new masterpieces, swooning love stories, blasts into the past, haunting documentaries and pink-hued playtimes our way. They're all among our 15 best films of 2023 — and most unforgettable — complete with excellent company. POOR THINGS Richly striking feats of cinema by Yorgos Lanthimos aren't scarce. Sublime performances by Emma Stone are hardly infrequent. Screen takes on Mary Shelley's Frankenstein couldn't be more constant. For Lanthimos, see: Dogtooth and Alps in the Greek Weird Wave filmmaker's native language, plus The Lobster, The Killing of a Sacred Deer and The Favourite since he started helming movies in English. With Stone, examples abound in her Best Actress Oscar for La La Land, supporting nominations before and after for Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) and Lanthimos' aforementioned regal satire, and twin 2024 Golden Globe nods for their latest collaboration as well as TV's The Curse. And as for the best gothic-horror story there is, not to mention one of the most influential sci-fi stories ever, the evidence is everywhere from traditional adaptations to debts owed as widely as The Rocky Horror Show and M3GAN. Combining the three results in a rarity, however: a jewel of a pastel-, jewel- and bodily fluid-toned feminist Frankenstein-esque fairy tale that's a stunning creation, as zapped to life with Lanthimos' inimitable flair, a mischievous air, Stone at her most extraordinary and empowerment blazing like a lightning bolt. With cascading black hair, an inquisitive stare, incessant frankness and jolting physical mannerisms, Poor Things' star is Bella Baxter in this adaptation of Alasdair Grey's award-winning 1992 novel by Australian screenwriter Tony McNamara (The Great). Among the reasons that the movie and its lead portrayal are so singular: as a character with a woman's body revived with a baby's brain, Stone plays someone from infancy to adulthood, all with the astonishingly exact mindset and mannerisms to match, and while making every move, choice and feeling as organic as birth, living and death. In this fantastical steampunk vision of Victorian-era Europe, London-based Scottish doctor Godwin Baxter (Willem Dafoe, Asteroid City) is Bella's maker. Even if she didn't call him God, he's been playing it. But curiosity, the quest for agency and independence, horniness and a lust for adventure all beckon his creation on a radical, rebellious, gorgeously rendered, gloriously funny and generously insightful odyssey. So, Godwin tries to marry Bella off to medical student Max McCandles (Ramy Youssef, Ramy), only for her to discover masturbation and sex, and run off to the continent with caddish lawyer Duncan Wedderburn (Mark Ruffalo, She-Hulk: Attorney at Law). Read our full review. KILLERS OF THE FLOWER MOON Death comes to Killers of the Flower Moon quickly. Death comes to Killers of the Flower Moon often. While Martin Scorsese will later briefly fill the film's frames with a fiery orange vision — with what almost appears to be a lake of flames deep in oil country, as dotted with silhouettes of men — death blazes through his 26th feature from the moment that the picture starts rolling. Adapted from journalist David Grann's 2017 non-fiction novel Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI, with the filmmaker himself and Dune's Eric Roth penning the screenplay, this is a masterpiece of a movie about a heartbreakingly horrible spate of deaths sparked by pure and unapologetic greed and persecution a century back. Scorsese's two favourite actors in Leonardo DiCaprio (Don't Look Up) and Robert De Niro (Amsterdam) are its stars, alongside hopefully his next go-to in Lily Gladstone (Reservation Dogs), but murder and genocide are as much at this bold and brilliant, epic yet intimate, ambitious and absorbing film's centre — all in a tale that's devastatingly true. As Mollie Kyle, a member of the Osage Nation in Grey Horse, Oklahoma, incomparable Certain Women standout Gladstone talks through some of the movie's homicides early. Before her character meets DiCaprio's World War I veteran Ernest Burkhart — nephew to De Niro's cattle rancher and self-proclaimed 'king of the Osage' William King Hale — she notes that several Indigenous Americans that have been killed, with Mollie mentioning a mere few to meet untimely ends. There's nothing easy about this list, nor is there meant to be. Some are found dead, others seen laid out for their eternal rest, and each one delivers a difficult image. But a gun fired at a young mother pushing a pram inspires a shock befitting a horror film. The genre fits here, in its way, as do many others as Killers of the Flower Moon follows Burkhart's arrival in town, his deeds under his uncle's guidance, his romance with Mollie and the tragedies that keep springing: American crime saga, aka the realm that Scorsese has virtually made his own, as well as romance, relationship drama, western, true crime and crime procedural. Read our full review, and our interview with Martin Scorsese. PAST LIVES Call it fate, call it destiny, call it deeply feeling like you were always meant to cross paths with someone: in Korean, that sensation is in-yeon. Partway through Past Lives, aspiring writer Nora (Greta Lee, Russian Doll) explains the concept to fellow scribe Arthur (John Magaro, Showing Up) like she knows it deep in her bones, because both she and the audience are well-aware that she does. That's what writer/director Celine Song's sublime feature debut is about from its first frames to its last. With Arthur, Nora jokes that in-yeon is something that Koreans talk about when they're trying to seduce someone. There's truth to her words, because she'll end up married to him. But with her childhood crush Hae Sung (Teo Yoo, Decision to Leave), who she last saw at the age of 12 because her family then moved from Seoul to Toronto, in-yeon explains everything. It sums up their firm connection as kids, the instant spark that ignites when they reunite in their 20s via emails and Skype calls, and the complicated emotions that swell when they're finally in the same place together again after decades — even with Arthur in the picture as well. Song also emigrated to Canada with her parents as a pre-teen, but achieves that always-sought-after feat: making a movie that feels so intimately specific to its characters, and yet resonates so heartily and universally. Each time that Nora and Hae Sung slide back into each other's lives, it feels like no time has passed, but that doesn't smooth their way forward. Crafted to resemble slipping into a memory, complete with lingering looks and a transportingly evocative score, this feature knows every emotion that arises when you need someone and vice versa, but life has other plans. It feels the weight of the roads not taken, even when you're happy with the route you're on. It's a film about details — spying them everywhere, in Nora and Hae Sung's lives and their faces, while recognising how the best people in anyone's orbits spot them as well. Lee, Yoo and Magaro are each magnetic and magnificent, as is everything about this sensitive, blisteringly honest and intimately complex masterpiece. And, in one specific shot, waiting for a car has never felt so loaded and conflicted. Read our full review, and our interview with Celine Song. AFTERSUN The simplest things in life can be the most revealing, whether it's a question asked of a father by a child, an exercise routine obeyed almost mindlessly or a man stopping to smoke someone else's old cigarette while wandering through a holiday town alone at night. The astonishing feature debut by Scottish writer/director Charlotte Wells, Aftersun is about the simple things. Following the about-to-turn-31 Calum (Paul Mescal, Foe) and his daughter Sophie (debutant Frankie Corio) on vacation in Turkey in the late 90s, it includes all of the above simple things, plus more. It tracks, then, that this coming-of-age story on three levels — of an 11-year-old flirting with adolescence, a dad struggling with his place in the world, and an adult woman with her own wife and family grappling with a life-changing experience from her childhood — is always a movie of deep, devastating and revealing complexity. Earning the internet's Normal People-starring boyfriend a Best Actor Oscar nomination, and deservedly so, Aftersun is a reflective, ruminative portrait of heartbreak. It's a quest to find meaning in sorrow and pain, too, and in processing the past. Wells has crafted a chronicle of interrogating, contextualising, reframing and dwelling in memories; an examination of leaving and belonging; and an unpacking of the complicated truths that a kid can't see about a parent until they're old enough to be that parent. Breaking up Calum and Sophie's sun-dappled coastal holiday with the older Sophie (Celia Rowlson-Hall, Vox Lux) watching camcorder footage from the trip, sifting through her recollections and dancing it out under a nightclub's strobing lights in her imagination, this is also a stunning realisation that we'll always read everything we can into a loved one's actions with the benefit of hindsight, but all we ever truly have is the sensation that lingers in our hearts and heads. Understanding why the adult Sophie is scouring VHS tapes and her mind's eye for far more than mere nostalgia involves doing what everyone on a resort getaway does: hanging out. Aftersun spends much of its time in the simple holiday moments, including by the pool, at dinner, singing karaoke, day tripping, and in Sophie and Calum's room — and lets these ordinary, everyday occurrences, and the details that flow from them, confess everything they can. Read our full review, and our interview with Charlotte Wells. OPPENHEIMER Cast Cillian Murphy and a filmmaker falls in love. Danny Boyle did with 28 Days Later and Sunshine, then Christopher Nolan followed with Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, The Dark Knight Rises, Inception and Dunkirk. There's an arresting, haunting, seeps-under-your-skin soulfulness about the Irish actor, never more so than when he was wandering solo through the empty zombie-ravaged streets in his big-screen big break, then hurtling towards the sun in an underrated sci-fi gem, both for Boyle, and now playing "the father of atomic bomb" in Nolan's epic biopic Oppenheimer. Flirting with the end of the world, or just one person's end, clearly suits Murphy. Here he is in a mind-blower as the destroyer of worlds — almost, perhaps actually — and so much of this can't-look-away three-hour stunner dwells in his expressive eyes. As J Robert Oppenheimer, those peepers see purpose and possibility. They spot quantum mechanics' promise, and the whole universe lurking within that branch of physics. They ultimately spy the consequences, too, of bringing the Manhattan Project successfully to fruition during World War II. Dr Strangelove's full title could never apply to Oppenheimer, nor to its eponymous figure; neither learn to stop worrying and love the bomb. The theoretical physicist responsible for the creation of nuclear weapons did enjoy building it in Nolan's account, Murphy's telltale eyes gleaming as Oppy watches research become reality — but then darkening as he gleans what that reality means. Directing, writing and adapting the 2005 biography American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J Robert Oppenheimer by Kai Bird and Martin J Sherwin, Nolan charts the before and after. He probes the fission and fusion of the situation in intercut parts, the first in colour, the second in black and white. In the former, all paths lead to the history-changing Trinity test on July 16, 1945 in the New Mexico desert. In the latter, a mushroom cloud balloons through Oppenheimer's life as he perceives what the gadget, as it's called in its development stages, has unleashed. Read our full review. EO David Attenborough's nature documentaries are acclaimed and beloved viewing, including when they're recreating dinosaurs. Family-friendly fare adores cute critters, especially if they're talking as in The Lion King and Paddington movies. The horror genre also loves pushing animals to the front, with The Birds and Jaws among its unsettling masterpieces. Earth's creatures great and small are all around us on-screen, and also off — but in EO, a donkey drama by Polish filmmaker Jerzy Skolimowski (11 Minutes), humanity barely cares. The people in this Oscar-nominated mule musing might watch movies about pets and beasts. They may have actively shared parts of their own lives existence the animal kingdom; some, albeit only a rare few, do attempt exactly that with this flick's grey-haired, white-spotted, wide-eyed namesake. But one of the tragedies at the heart of this adventure is also just a plain fact of life on this pale blue dot while homo sapiens reign supreme: that animals are everywhere all the time but hardly anyone notices. EO notices. Making his first film in seven years, and co-writing with his wife and producer Ewa Piaskowska (Essential Killing), Skolimowski demands that his audience pays attention. This is both an episodic slice-of-life portrait of EO the donkey's days and a glimpse of the world from his perspective — sometimes, the glowing and gorgeous cinematography by Michal Dymek (Wolf) takes in the Sardinian creature in all his braying, trotting, carrot-eating glory; sometimes, it takes on 'donkey vision', which is just as mesmerising to look at. Skolimowski gets inspiration from Robert Bresson's 1966 feature Au Hasard Balthazar, too, a movie that also follows the life of a hoofed, long-eared mammal. Like that French great, EO sees hardship much too often for its titular creature; however, even at its most heartbreaking, it also spies an innate, immutable circle of life. Read our full review. CLOSE When Léo (debutant Eden Dambrine) and Rémi (fellow first-timer Gustav De Waele) dash the carefree dash of youth in Close's early moments, rushing from a dark bunker out into the sunshine — from rocks and forest to a bloom-filled field ablaze with colour, too — this immediately evocative Belgian drama runs joyously with them. Girl writer/director Lukas Dhont starts his sophomore feature with a tremendous moment, one that's arresting to look at and to experience. The petals pop; the camera tracks, rushes and flies; the two 13-year-olds are as exuberant and at ease as they're ever likely to be in their lives. They're sprinting because they're happy and playing, and because summer in their village — and on Léo's parents' flower farm — is theirs for the revelling in. They don't and can't realise it because no kid does, but they're also bolting from the bliss that is their visibly contented childhood to the tussles and emotions of being a teenager. Close's title does indeed apply to its two main figures; when it comes to adolescent friendships, they couldn't be tighter. As expressed in revelatory performances by Dambrine and De Waele, each of whom are genuine acting discoveries — Dhont spotted the former on a train from Antwerp to Ghent — these boys have an innocent intimate affinity closer than blood. They're euphoric with and in each other's company, and the feature plays like that's how it has always been between the two. They've also never queried or overthought what their connection means. Before high school commences, Close shows the slumber parties, and the shared hopes and dreams. It sits in on family dinners, demonstrating the ease with which each is a part of the other's broader lives amid both sets of mums and dads; Léo's are Nathalie (Léa Drucker, Custody) and Yves (Marc Weiss, Esprits de famille), Rémi's are Sophie (Émilie Dequenne, An Ordinary Man) and Peter (Kevin Janssens, Two Summers). The film adores their rapport like a summer day adores the breeze, and conveys it meticulously and movingly. Then, when girls in Léo and Rémi's grade ask if the two are a couple, it shows the heartache and heartbreak of a boyhood bond dissolving. Read our full review. ALL THE BEAUTY AND THE BLOODSHED With photographer Nan Goldin at its centre, the latest documentary by Citizenfour Oscar-winner Laura Poitras is a film about many things, to deeply stunning and moving effect. In this Oscar-nominated movie's compilation of Goldin's acclaimed snaps, archival footage, current interviews, and past and present activism, a world of stories flicker — all linked to Goldin, but all also linking universally. The artist's bold work, especially chronicling LGBTQIA+ subcultures and the 80s HIV/AIDS crisis, frequently and naturally gets the spotlight. Her complicated family history, which spans heartbreaking loss, haunts the doco as it haunts its subject. The rollercoaster ride that Goldin's life has taken, including in forging her career, supporting her photos, understanding who she is and navigating an array of personal relationships, cascades through, too. And, so do her efforts to counter the opioid epidemic by bringing one of the forces behind it to public justice. Revealing state secrets doesn't sit at the core of the tale here, unlike Citizenfour and Poitras' 2016 film Risk — one about Edward Snowden, the other Julian Assange — but everything leads to the documentary's titular six words: All the Beauty and the Bloodshed. They gain meaning in a report spied late about the mental health of Goldin's older sister Barbara, who committed suicide at the age of 18 when Goldin was 11, and who Goldin contends was just an "angry and sexual" young woman in the 60s with repressed parents. A psychiatrist uses the eponymous phrase to describe what Barbara sees and, tellingly, it could be used to do the same with anyone. All the Beauty and the Bloodshed is, in part, a rebuke of the idea that a teenager with desires and emotions is a problem, and also a statement that that's who we all are, just to varying levels of societal acceptance. The film is also a testament that, for better and for worse, all the beauty and the bloodshed we all witness and endure is what shapes us. Read our full review. THE BOY AND THE HERON For much of the six years that a new Hayao Miyazaki movie has been on the way, little was known except that the legendary Japanese animator was breaking his retirement after 2013's The Wind Rises. But there was a tentative title: How Do You Live?. While that isn't the name that the film's English-language release sports, both the moniker — which remains in Japan — and the nebulousness otherwise help sum up the gorgeous and staggering The Boy and the Heron. They also apply to the Studio Ghibli's co-founder's filmography overall. When a director and screenwriter escapes into imaginative realms as much as Miyazaki does, thrusting young characters still defining who they are away from everything they know into strange and surreal worlds, they ask how people exist, weather the chaos and trauma that's whisked their way, and bounce between whatever normality they're lucky to cling to and life's relentless uncertainties and heartbreaks. Miyazaki has long pondered how to navigate the fact that so little while we breathe proves a constant, and gets The Boy and the Heron spirited away by the same train of thought while climbing a tower of deeply resonant feelings. How Do You Live? is also a 1937 book by Genzaburo Yoshino, which Miyazaki was given by his mother as a child, and also earns a mention in his 12th feature. The Boy and the Heron isn't an adaptation; rather, it's a musing on that query that's the product of a great artist looking back at his life and achievements, plus his losses. The official blurb uses the term "semi-autobiographical fantasy", an elegant way to describe a movie that feels so authentic, and so tied to its creator, even though he can't have charted his current protagonist's exact path. Parts of the story are drawn from his youth, but it wouldn't likely surprise any Studio Ghibli fan if Miyazaki had magically had his Chihiro, Mei and Satsuki, or Howl moment, somehow living an adventure from Spirited Away, My Neighbour Totoro or Howl's Moving Castle. What definitely won't astonish anyone is that grappling with conjuring up these rich worlds and processing reality is far from simple, even for someone of Miyazaki's indisputable creative genius. Read our full review. SALTBURN Sharp, savage and skewering, plus twisted in narrative and the incisive use of genre tropes alike: as a filmmaker, Emerald Fennell certainly has a type. With the Oscar-winning Promising Young Woman and now Saltburn, the Barbie and The Crown actor-turned-writer/director takes aim, blazes away giddily and blasts apart everything that she can. When she made a blisteringly memorable feature debut behind the lens — giving audiences one of 2021's's best Down Under releases, in fact, and deservingly earning a place among the Academy Awards' rare female Best Director nominees in the process — she honed in on the absolute worst that a patriarchal society affords women. Now, after also pointing out the protection provided to the wealthy in that first effort as a helmer, Fennell has class warfare so firmly in her gaze that Saltburn is named after a sprawling English manor. With both flicks, the end result is daringly unforgettable. This pair of pictures would make a killer double, too, although they enjoy neighbouring estates rather than frolic across the same exact turf. On her leaps from one side of the camera to the other, Fennell also keeps filling her features with such spectacular casts that other filmmakers might hope to fall into her good graces to bask in their glow — a fate that sits at the heart of Saltburn, albeit beyond the movie world. Fresh from nabbing his own Oscar nomination for The Banshees of Inisherin, Barry Keoghan adds yet another beguiling and astonishing performance to a resume that's virtually collecting them (see also: The Killing of a Sacred Deer, Dunkirk, American Animals, The Green Knight and Calm with Horses), proving mesmerisingly slippery as scholarship student Oliver Quick. Usually standing in his sights, Euphoria's Jacob Elordi perfects the part of Felix Catton, aka that effortlessly charismatic friend that everyone wishes they could spend all of their time with. And as Felix's mother Elspeth, father Sir James and "poor dear" family pal Pamela, Rosamund Pike (The Wheel of Time), Richard E Grant (Persuasion) and Carey Mulligan (Fennell's Promising Young Woman star, also an Academy Award nominee for her work) couldn't give more delicious line readings or portraits of the insular but shambolic well-to-do. Read our full review. BARBIE No one plays with a Barbie too hard when the Mattel product is fresh out of the box. As that new doll smell lingers, and the toy's synthetic limbs gleam and locks glisten, so does a child's sense of wonder. The more that the world-famous mass-produced figurine is trotted through DreamHouses, slipped into convertibles and decked out in different outfits, though — then given non-standard makeovers — the more that playing with the plastic fashion model becomes fantastical. Like globally beloved item, like live-action movie bearing its name. Barbie, the film, starts with glowing aesthetic perfection. It's almost instantly a pink-hued paradise for the eyes, and it's also a cleverly funny flick from its 2001: A Space Odyssey-riffing outset. The longer that it continues, however, the harder and wilder that Lady Bird and Little Women director Greta Gerwig goes, as does her Babylon and Amsterdam star lead-slash-producer Margot Robbie as Barbie. In Barbie's Barbie Land, life is utopian. Robbie's Stereotypical Barbie and her fellow dolls (including The Gray Man's Ryan Gosling as Stereotypical Ken) genuinely believe that their rosy beachside suburban excellence is infectious, too. And, they're certain that this female-championing realm — and the Barbies being female champions of all skills, talents and appearances — has changed the real world inhabited by humans. But there's a Weird Barbie living in a misshapen abode. While she isn't Barbie's villain, not for a second, her nonconformist look and attitude says everything about Barbie at its most delightful. Sporting cropped hair, a scribbled-on face and legs akimbo, she's brought to life by Saturday Night Live great Kate McKinnon having a blast, and explained as the outcome of a kid somewhere playing too eagerly. Meet Gerwig's spirit animal; when she lets Weird Barbie's vibe rain down like a shower of glitter, covering everything and everyone in sight both in Barbie Land and in reality, the always-intelligent, amusing and dazzling Barbie is at its brightest and most brilliant. Read our full review, and Greta Gerwig, Margot Robbie, Issa Rae and America Ferrara chatting about the film. SAINT OMER In 2016, a French documentarian with Senegalese heritage attended the trial of a Senegalese French PhD student who confessed to killing her 15-month-old daughter, who was fathered by a white partner, by leaving her on the beach to the mercy of the waves at Berck-sur-Mer. The filmmaker was fixated. She describes it as an "unspeakable obsession". She was haunted by questions about motherhood, too — her mum's and her own, given that she was a young mother herself as she sat in the courtroom. That story is the story of how Saint Omer came to be, and also almost exactly the tale that the piercing drama tells. In her first narrative film after docos We and La Permanence, writer/director Alice Diop focuses on a French author and literature professor with a Senegalese background who bears witness to a trial with the same details, also of a Senegalese French woman, for the same crime. Saint Omer's protagonist shares other traits with Diop as she observes, too, and watches and listens to research a book. A director riffing on their own experience isn't novel, but Saint Omer is strikingly intimate and authentic because it's the embodiment of empathy in an innately difficult situation. It shows what it means to feel for someone else, including someone who has admitted to a shocking crime, and has been made because Diop went through that far-from-straightforward process and was galvanised to keep grappling with it. What a deeply emotional movie this 2022 Venice International Film Festival Grand Jury Prize-winning feature is, understandably and unsurprisingly. What a heartbreaking and harrowing work it proves as well. Saint Omer is also an astoundingly multilayered excavation of being in a country but never being seen as truly part it, and what that does to someone's sense of self, all through Fabienne Kabou's complicated reality and Laurence Coly's (Guslagie Malanda, My Friend Victoria) fictionalised scenario. Read our full review. WOMEN TALKING Get Rooney Mara, Claire Foy, Jessie Buckley, Frances McDormand and more exceptional women in a room, point a camera their way, let the talk flow: Sarah Polley's Women Talking does just that, and this year's Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar-winner is phenomenal. The actor-turned-filmmaker's fourth effort behind the lens after 2006's Away From Her, 2011's Take This Waltz and 2012's Stories We Tell does plenty more, but its basic setup is as straightforward as its title states. Adapted from Miriam Toews' 2018 novel of the same name, this isn't a simple or easy film, however. That book and this feature draw on events in a Bolivian Mennonite colony from 2005–9, where a spate of mass druggings and rapes of women and girls were reported at the hands of some of the group's men. In a patriarchal faith and society, women talking about their experiences is a rebellious, revolutionary act anyway — and talking about what comes next is just as charged. "The elders told us that it was the work of ghosts, or Satan, or that we were lying to get attention, or that it was an act of wild female imagination." That's teenage narrator Autje's (debutant Kate Hallett) explanation for how such assaults could occur and continue, as offered in Women Talking's sombre opening voiceover. Writing and helming, Polley declares her feature "an act of female imagination" as well, as Toews did on the page, but the truth in the movie's words is both lingering and haunting. While the film anchors its dramas in a specific year, 2010, it's purposefully vague on any details that could ground it in one place. Set within a community where modern technology is banned and horse-drawn buggies are the only form of transport, it's a work of fiction inspired by reality, rather than a recreation. Whether you're aware of the true tale behind the book going in or not, this deeply powerful and affecting picture speaks to how women have long been treated in a male-dominated world at large — and what's so often left unsaid, too. Read our full review. ASTEROID CITY In 1954, one of Alfred Hitchcock's greatest thrillers peeked through a rear window. In Wes Anderson's highly stylised, symmetrical and colour-saturated vision of 1955 in Asteroid City, a romance springs almost solely through two fellow holes in the wall. Sitting behind one is actor Midge Campbell (Scarlett Johansson, Black Widow), who visibly recalls Marilyn Monroe. Peering through the opposing space is newly widowed war photographer Augie Steenbeck (Jason Schwartzman, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse), who takes more than a few cues from James Dean. The time isn't just 1955 in the filmmaker's latest stellar masterpiece, but September that year, a month that would end with Dean's death in a car crash. Racing through the movie's eponymous setting — an 87-person slice of post-war midwest Americana with a landscape straight out of a western, the genre that was enjoying its golden age at the time — are cops and robbers speeding and careening in their vehicles. Meticulousness layered upon meticulousness has gleamed like the sun across Anderson's repertoire since 1996's Bottle Rocket launched the writer/director's distinctive aesthetic flair; "Anderson-esque" has long become a term. Helming his 11th feature with Asteroid City, he's as fastidious and methodical in his details upon details as ever — more so, given that each successive movie keeps feeling like Anderson at his most Anderson — but all of those 50s pop-culture shoutouts aren't merely film-loving, winking-and-nodding quirks. Within this picture's world, as based on a story conjured up with Roman Coppola (The French Dispatch), Asteroid City isn't actually a picture. "It is an imaginary drama created expressly for the purposes of this broadcast. The characters are fictional, the text hypothetical, the events an apocryphal fabrication," a Playhouse 90-style host (Bryan Cranston, Better Call Saul) informs. So, it's a fake play turned into a play for a TV presentation, behind-the-scenes glimpses and all. There Anderson is, being his usual ornate and intricate self, and finding multiple manners to explore art, authenticity, and the emotions found in and processed through works of creativity. Read our full review. LIMBO When Ivan Sen sent a police detective chasing a murdered girl and a missing woman in the Australian outback in 2013's Mystery Road and its 2016 sequel Goldstone, he saw the country's dusty, rust-hued expanse in sun-bleached and eye-scorching colour. In the process, the writer, director, co-producer, cinematographer, editor and composer used his first two Aussie noir films and their immaculately shot sights to call attention to how the nation treats people of colour — historically since its colonial days and still now well over two centuries later. Seven years after the last Jay Swan movie, following a period that's seen that character make the leap to the small screen in three television seasons, Sen is back with a disappearance, a cop, all that inimitable terrain and the crimes against its Indigenous inhabitants that nothing can hide. Amid evident similarities, there's a plethora of differences between the Mystery Road franchise and Limbo; however, one of its simplest is also one of its most glaring and powerful: shooting Australia's ochre-toned landscape in black and white. Limbo's setting: Coober Pedy, the globally famous "opal capital of the world" that's known for its underground dwellings beneath the blazing South Australian earth, but reimagined as the fictional locale that shares the film's name — a place unmistakably sporting an otherworldly topography dotted by dugouts to avoid the baking heat, and that hasn't been able to overcome the murder of a local Indigenous girl two decades earlier. The title is symbolic several times over, including to the visiting Travis Hurley (Simon Baker, Blaze), whose first task upon arrival is checking into his subterranean hotel, rolling up his sleeves and indulging his heroin addiction. Later, he'll be told that he looks more like a drug dealer than a police officer — but, long before then, it's obvious that his line of work and the sorrows he surveys along the way have kept him hovering in a void. While he'll also unburden a few biographical details about mistakes made and regrets held before the film comes to an end, such as while talking to the missing Charlotte Hayes' brother Charlie (Rob Collins, The Drover's Wife The Legend of Molly Johnson) and sister Emma (Natasha Wanganeen, The Survival of Kindness), this tattooed cop with wings inked onto his back is already in limbo before he's literally in Limbo talking. Read our full review, and our interview with Ivan Sen and Simon Baker. Looking for more viewing highlights? We also rounded up another 15 exceptional flicks that hardly anyone saw in cinemas this year — plus the 15 best straight-to-streaming movies, 15 best new TV series of 2023, another 15 excellent new TV shows of 2023 that you might've missed and the 15 best returning shows as well. And, we've kept a running list of must-stream TV from across the year, complete with full reviews. Also, you can check out our regular rundown of film and TV streaming recommendations, which is updated monthly.t you might've missed.
Mandala Wines' rolling green Yarra Valley property promises a cracker of a setting for this Italian-style, al fresco feast. The winery's DiVino Ristorante will be working its magic to transform a haul of super local produce into a sumptuous three-course lunch, enjoyed with a side of vineyard views from the lush gardens. Starring alongside a lineup of the estate's own celebrated wines, the food menu features only ingredients sourced from within one kilometre of the restaurant. Pull up a sunny patch of turf and tuck into house-made cold cuts matched to blanc de blancs, and succulent porchetta off the spit-roast, teamed with pinot noir poured straight from the barrel. You'll finish in true Italian style, downing goat's cheese panna cotta and limoncello in the sunshine. Bring the whole gang — this one's a family-friendly affair, with ample room for running wild. Yarra Valley's Italian-Style Pig Party is part of Melbourne Food and Wine Festival. Check out more of the festival's events here. Image: Mandala Wines, Visit Victoria.
The temperature is hovering somewhere around Antarctic levels in Melbourne, which means truffle season is officially here. To celebrate this year's harvest of expensive black fungus, Queen Victoria Market is hosting their annual truffle season party, and most traders are getting in on the action. This is your chance to pick up truffle oil, truffle salt, truffle butter, truffle honey and truffled truffles – the Truffle Melbourne stall in A Shed is selling pure black gold by the gram. Perhaps the pick of the bunch is the famous truffle toastie from all-Australian cheese shop, RIPE. It's back again this year for a limited-season run: golden brown sourdough stuffed with cheddar and mozzarella, topped with 12g of freshly shaved Australian truffle, then sprinkled with black truffle salt for good measure. If you get lost on the way to A Shed, just follow your nose. Truffle season at Queen Vic generally runs until the last truffle, so you've got a little while to catch this one. Check out the full program here. Images: supplied.
In its very first moments, BPM (Beats Per Minute) purposefully withholds details from the audience. Adopting the perspective of the film's unseen characters, the camera waits in the wings as a man gives a speech that isn't subtitled for viewers, until the deafening blast of an airhorn interrupts his talking. It's a jarring opening, but the movie is made all the more jolting by its second scene. Sat in a classroom with the Parisian members of HIV and AIDS activism group ACT UP (AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power), BPM positively swamps the audience with information as the group analyse their last public campaign and argue about their next mission. The chatter is loud, fast and passionate, discussing medical specifics, marketing tactics and everything in-between. To provide further detail, the film intertwines glimpses of their activist actions into their heated conversation. Starting the movie in such a fashion, writer-director Robin Campillo achieves several things. BPM's initial 15 minutes are an immersive onslaught completely by design, plunging viewers into a frenzied, hectic headspace. The two scenes give an indication of how the film will progress stylistically and tonally. More than that, they also ensure the audience truly appreciates the mindset of the characters — allowing viewers to not only watch, but to experience the chaos, anger and uncertainty for themselves. Campillo doesn't stop there, adding a third component. In an ecstatic club-set dance sequence that's as pivotal as everything that precedes it, the audience sees joyous faces moving to the music. After first showing viewers what it feels like to be ignored, then demonstrating the overwhelming nature of the fight for AIDS treatment in the early 1990s, BPM provides a crucial moment of catharsis. The sidelined, the relentless, the sublime — if Campillo's film has a rhythm, that's it. The movie also has a narrative, charting ACT UP's quest to secure medication at a time before HIV drugs were affordable and easily accessible, from a French government and a pharmaceutical industry that are apathetic at best and cruel at worst. As the group storms into conferences, throws fake blood during office invasions and employs other protest tactics, BPM gets to know several figures on a deeper level. Haemophiliac Marco (Theophile Ray) comes to meetings with his mother Helene (Catherine Vinatier). Organiser Sophie (Adele Haenel) advocates for diplomatic options. Jeremie (Ariel Borenstein) deteriorates, and quickly. Leader Thibault (Antoine Reinartz) and the AIDS-inflicted Sean (Nahuel Perez Biscayart) bicker about peaceful versus aggressive tactics — and Sean also falls for newcomer Nathan (Arnaud Valois), who isn't HIV-positive. Set to a soundtrack that flits from electronic beats to sorrowful piano, to the pleading chants of ACT UP taking to the streets, what emerges is a movie that's both intimate and expansive. Just as BPM's first scenes leave a definite imprint, so does the cumulative effect of its 143 minutes, weaving personal tales into a sprawling snapshot of a real-life movement. The reverse applies too, with the picture's broader view, particularly in its documentary-like moments, giving context to each character's struggle. It's little wonder that the cast's performances feel both intricate and part of something bigger, particularly Biscayart and Valois' efforts to convey Sean and Nathan's complex romance. Finding the right actors for the job — actors who can not only deliver stellar work, but can make their roles seem so real that you half expect them to walk off the screen — was one of the hallmarks of Campillo's last film, Eastern Boys. So was an astonishing command of mood and aesthetics, with every directorial choice keeping viewers glued to every frame. BPM shares those traits, but it also boasts something that's all its own: an unwavering, devastating sense of authenticity. Both the filmmaker and his co-writer Philippe Mangeot are alumni of ACT UP, as audiences could probably guess just by watching. A movie this well observed, this drenched in naturalism, this candid and poignant, can only spring from reality. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4_79dnJeNU
You know those days where all you really need is a good hug? Sri Mata Amritanandamayi Devi can sympathise, and she'll even provide that warm hug...that is, if you are patient enough to wait in the queue. Known to her followers as 'Amma', this Indian spiritual leader is on a hug campaign, having already shared the warmth of her hug with 31 million people worldwide. Last week, Amma paid Australia a visit; she drew huge crowds in Sydney, Queensland, and Melbourne, all desiring one of her healing hugs. To be greeted by eager masses awaiting her arrival is nothing new for her: originally from Kerala, India, Amma travels have taken her everywhere from Sri Lanka to Haiti, into the arms of millions. During a recent trip to Penang, Malaysia, Amma hugged 40,000 devotees over the course of 20 hours. She claims that her connection to an "eternal power source" enabled her to deliver so many hugs, all without even pausing for a break. With her hugs, Amma seeks to transfer a sense of peace and pure love. Her humanitarian efforts have extended into her organisation, Embracing the World, which has successfully established homes for the homeless, food kitchens for the hungry, and safe havens for women. She has also set up schools, orphanages, and environmental programs. So, what exactly does it feel like to be hugged by one of the world's great humanitarians? You could ask one of the 4,000 Sydney Boys' High School Students who queued up on the 18th for their turn. Or any of the thousands upon thousands of Australians who waited for their chance. Or, perhaps, 43-year-old mother, Hema, said it best: "Tears just rolled down my cheeks. It was just like a mum giving you a loving hug and her love was pouring into me. That feeling lasts forever," she told BBC. https://youtube.com/watch?v=HiSmx1odU-k
As if we needed a reason to enjoy a bit of Mother's Ruin, this Saturday, June 11 is World Gin Day — and the team at Four Pillars are keen to mark the occasion. The Healesville distillery will play host to a big ol' boozy shindig, complete with food by Burn City Smokers and free samples from the entire Four Pillars range. They'll also be launching their new Bloody Shiraz Gin, which has been steeped in and blended with Shiraz grapes from the Yarra Valley. Open from 10.30am, the event will also feature Caroline from A Bit of Jam and Pickle, who'll dole out homemade scones topped with Four Pillars' Orange Marmalade. Burn City, meanwhile, will be slinging botanical-fed pulled pork rolls from their food truck parked out front. Naturally, the Four Pillars bar will be open for business, serving Negronis and G&Ts. Unfortunately the hands-on distilling lesson has already sold out — but on the plus side, that just means you'll have more time to drink.
Now in its third year, Harvest Festival has already established a name for itself in Australia's absurdly crowded festival market, pitching itself as 'a civilised gathering' for those disinclined to battle the marauding hordes at some of the larger summer festivals. But Harvest has also established itself as a destination for "serious" music fans, its first two lineups a compelling combination of household names (The Flaming Lips, The Family Stone, Beck and Grizzly Bear, to name but a few) and slightly more niche bands with small but fervent fan bases (Cake, The Walkmen, Los Campesinos! and Mike Patton's Mondo Cane prime examples). And this year's lineup continues the tradition, with superstars again rubbing shoulders with exciting up-and-comers, reunited indie heroes and longtime favourites. It remains to be seen how the vibe of the Sydney show will change as it shifts from the bushland sprawl of Parramatta Park to The Domain, but judging by the lineup no one is going to be complaining about the music! Here's the lineup for 2013, with more bands to come as we get closer to the date: Massive Attack Franz Ferdinand Primus! Goldfrapp Neutral Milk Hotel Desaparecidos (one of Conor Oberst's bands, he of Bright Eyes fame) Eels CSS The Drones Black Rebel Motorcycle Club Mutemath M Ward Superchunk The Wallflowers Walk Off The Earth Sunday, November 10 -Werribee Park, Melbourne Saturday, November 16 – The Domain, Sydney Sunday, November 17 – Botanic Gardens, Brisbane
Among the wealth of new content that Netflix drops on viewers each and every year, Dead to Me proved one of the streamer's 2019 hits. Taking a few cues from 2018 film A Simple Favour, the show's ten-episode first season told the tale of two women who meet, become friends despite seemingly having very little in common, and help each other with their daily lives — then find themselves immersed in more than a little murky business. Back in May this year, the twisty dark comedy returned for a second season — with stars Christina Applegate and Linda Cardellini coming back as well. The former plays a just-widowed woman trying to cope with losing her husband in a hit-and-run incident, while the latter pops up as a positive-thinking free spirit. Initially they crossed paths at a grief counselling session, sparking a definite odd-couple situation — which has evolved to feature secrets, lies, complications, cliffhangers and more than one murder cover-up over the show's two seasons to-date. If you've become a fan of Applegate's Jen Harding, Cardellini's Judy Hale and their antics — and fellow series co-star James Marsden, too — Netflix has revealed some good news: after the show's latest big ending, it's coming back once more. And we do mean once. The streaming platform has renewed the series for a third and final season, The Hollywood Reporter notes, which'll wrap up the program's story. Created by 2 Broke Girls writer Liz Feldman, the series marks Applegate's first lead TV role since 2011-12 sitcom Up All Night. For Cardellini, it's a return to Netflix after starring on the streaming platform's drama Bloodline — and she also featured in A Simple Favour, too. If you haven't watched it yet, check out the full trailer for Dead to Me's second season below: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HmU7ylnmn_M Dead to Me's third season will hit Netflix at a yet-to-be revealed date — we'll update you with exact details when they come to hand. The show's first and second seasons are available to stream now. Via The Hollywood Reporter. Images: Saeed Adyani / Netflix.
If there's been a big, White Night-shaped hole in your social calendar since the famed Melbourne after-hours fiesta wrapped up its last edition in February 2018, you'll be happy to know it's making a return this August. Just be prepared for a very different experience, as the immersive festival makes some serious changes to its programming and farewells part of the late-night fun. As well as making the move from summer to the deep of winter, White Night Reimagined has swapped its previous one-night format for an expanded three-night affair. Interestingly, it's also scrapped the all-nighter aspect in the process. Instead of the usual 7pm–7am program, which has been in place since the festival's inaugural 2013 edition, White Night is this year running from 7pm until midnight on Thursday, August 22, and again on Friday, August 23, followed by a 7pm until 2am session on Saturday, August 24. The new curfew means punters will no longer get to experience what some might argue is one of White Night's biggest pulls — the adventure of roaming around town soaking up art and installations, right through until the wee hours. Although, frosty August probably isn't the best time of year for pre-sunrise wanderings, anyway. The new-format event has also expanded in scope, held across three key precincts with each boasting its own distinct theme. Treasury Gardens will take the form of the 'Sensory Realm', showcasing dazzling projections, lighting and audio installations, and interactive artworks inspired by the five senses. Here, you'll find British artist Michael Pinsky's immersive Pollution Pods, which represented the different environments of global cities; a musical and calming SongCloud; a colourful light and audiovisual installation called Cluster; as well as a giant floating Cocoon made from 1000 lights tied together by ropes. Carlton Gardens will be transformed into the mystical 'Spiritual Realm', featuring a huge ten-metre lion puppet by Melbourne artist Joe Blanck, along with illuminations sharing the stories of Indigenous Australia. And the 'Physical Realm' descends on Birrarung Marr, showcasing the Aussie debut of internationally acclaimed street theatre performance Globe, from a troupe of 41 acrobats, aerialists, singers and actors. Other famed Melbourne spots coming to the party include the Melbourne Museum, the National Gallery of Victoria and the State Library Victoria, all hosting their own programs of art, food and music. The rest of White Night Reimagined's extended program, including the music component, is set to be revealed in the coming weeks. Starting from 2020, White Night will also form part of a new and bigger winter festival, in conjunction with the Melbourne International Arts Festival (MIAF).
Feeling hot, Melbourne? Well, you might want to embrace these soaring temperatures — or find yourself some solid air-con options — because we're only halfway through what's predicted to be the longest November heatwave in over 150 years. Summer's yet to arrive, but already the city's sweating through a seven-day stint of temperatures over 28 degrees — the first time that's happened in November since they started officially recording things back in 1855. #Melbourne is on track to have its first seven day spell of November days at or above 28 degrees on record, with data available back to 1855. — Weatherzone (@weatherzone) November 20, 2017 Temperatures are set to reach 32 degrees both today and tomorrow, and won't dip much below 20 degrees at night. Then, we're in for a sticky 33 degrees on Friday, before a rainy spell cool things down a bit over the weekend. Phew. Hobart is experiencing the same kind of unprecedented heat, with the Tasmanian city set to hit six consecutive days of at least 27 degrees by Thursday — at this time of year, the average temp is 19 degrees. Over in Adelaide, the temperature only dropped to 29 degrees on Monday night. This follows Sydney's record-breaking hot temperatures for July and, if we're honest, does not bode well for a comfortable summer. Image: udeyismail via Flickr.
The Bookwallah exhibition is a bit like a portable library, an art/design installation and a writers festival all in one. In November last year, six Australian and Indian writers went on a 2000km train ride across India with some pretty unique luggage: custom-made, kangaroo-skin suitcases filled with a variety of Australian literature. They had dinner and conversations with some of India's key writers and thinkers, visited some Indian literary festivals, and shared all the sights and adventures along the way on Facebook and Twitter. Now they're about to embark on an Australian tour, and the first stop is Melbourne. It's a chance for Australian readers to hear some of their stories from the journey, as well as see their luggage — which is much more interesting than it sounds. The suitcases, which were created by Australian and Indian designers Georgia Hutchison and Soumitri Varadarajan, fold out into bookcases and seats when they're opened, allowing visitors to browse and read in comfort.
Streaming platforms have become one of modern life's certainties, with new instances continuing to pop up all over the place. When Disney launches its own online streaming service, Disney+, fans of the company's Marvel Cinematic Universe and Star Wars saga will have plenty to celebrate — and fans of Disney's animated film catalogue will now as well. Expected to launch later this year in the US — with details on availability elsewhere yet to be confirmed — Disney+ has already announced a heap of new content; however it's the full range of old favourites that'll take viewers back to their childhoods. The company has long maintained the 'Disney Vault', which involves releasing its beloved flicks on home entertainment formats for a limited time only, then taking them out of circulation. When Disney rolls out its own streaming platform, that tactic is set to end. Speaking at the company's annual meeting in St. Louis, CEO Bob Iger noted advised shareholders that "at some point fairly soon after launch, it will house the entire Disney motion picture library," as Vulture reports. To make his point clear, he went further: "so the movies that… traditionally have been kept in a vault and brought out basically every few years will be on the service," Iger explained. On the new front, Disney's recent flicks are also expected to be made available on Disney+, with subsequent cinema releases due to hit the service within a year of their big-screen release. The platform will also be home to not one but two small-screen Star Wars series, plus several Marvel series (and given that Disney owns both Lucasfilm and Marvel Entertainment, Disney+ will likely will boast an entire galaxy of shows related to each huge franchise). Fans of the George Lucas-created space opera can not only look forward to the $100 million Star Wars series The Mandalorian from The Jungle Book, Iron Man and Iron Man 2 director Jon Favreau (and with Thor: Ragnarok director Taika Waititi helming an episode), but also a new spin-off from Rogue One. The latter, called Cassian Andor, will be set before the events of the film and will focus on Diego Luna's Rebel spy, with the actor reprising his role from the movie. In the Marvel sphere, while rumours have been floating around for some time, Disney announced that Tom Hiddleston's trickster Loki will definitely be getting his own series. Just what storyline it'll follow, or when it'll be set, is yet to be revealed. That said, it's safe to assume that it might be a prequel series as well. Release dates for the three series haven't been unveiled either — and nor has any word on the other Marvel show that has long been rumoured, about Elizabeth Olsen's Scarlet Witch and Paul Bettany's Vision. Disney+ is definitely going big when it comes to bringing the company's well-known properties to the new streaming platform, with a High School Musical TV series, another show based on Monsters, Inc. and a live-action Lady and the Tramp movie also on its lineup. And while a big batch of the aforementioned existing Disney content is currently available on Stan in Australia, spanning movies and TV series, you can reasonably expect that that arrangement will be impacted by Disney+. Via Vulture.
In the 22 years since they formed out of Melbourne's underground scene, Eddy Current Suppression Ring haven't ever played a free headlining show — until September 2025 rolls around, that is. Whether you're a fan of Aussie Rules football or you just like an excuse for a public holiday, here's one way to spend this year's AFL Grand Final eve: catching the iconic band taking to the stage in Federation Square, putting on their first gig in nine years and doing so without punters needing to pay a cent. Over the years, Melbourne's Fed Square has hosted free concerts by the eclectic likes of Robbie Williams, Kneecap, Caribou, Glass Beams and more. Now, Eddy Current Suppression Ring are jumping onto that list. They'll take to the stage for their first major appearance since the garage-punk group's last-minute Dark Mofo set in 2016, and for their first headlining Melbourne show since playing The Palace in 2010. Word of the Friday, September 26, 2025 gig follows Eddy Current Suppression Ring's release of their new split 7-inch Shapes and Forms — and sees the group, aka Brendan Suppression, Eddy Current, Danny Current and Rob Solid, keep adding to a career that started after a jam session at a Melbourne vinyl pressing plant's Christmas shindig back in 2003. For company in Fed Square, the Australian Music Prize-winning and ARIA Award-nominated band will be joined by New York's EDAN and the Melbourne-based Wrong Way Up.
As part of a nationwide tour, Sarah Blasko will join Orchestra Victoria onstage to perform her boundary-obliterating fourth album, I Awake. Blasko has never been one to rest on her creative laurels and her new LP is no exception. Last year, she travelled to Sweden and Bulgaria, where she hooked up with the Bulgarian Symphony Orchestra to record twelve tracks. Featuring rich string arrangements and a vocal performance that producer/musician Robert Cranny has described as her recorded “best”, I Awake has been inspiring four and five star reviews from the critics.
The Monash University Museum of Art will showcase Robert Smithson's radical land art from the 1960s and early 1970s in the first ever Australian exhibition of the hugely influential American artist's work. Running from July 21 to September 22, Time Crystals presents many of Smithson's key works of sculpture, film, photography, drawing, prints and texts. With the exhibition featuring almost entirely never-before-seen works in Australia, a collaboration between MUMA and The University of Queensland has successfully loaned Smithson's work from several major local and international institutions. Examining Smithson's massive land-based works and photography, Time Crystals includes many of the artist's personal sketches, preparatory drawings, correspondence, photographs and handwritten manuscripts, all of which detail the massive undertaking behind each os his works. The exhibition will also be accompanied by a half-day symposium and a three-part film program further considering the artist's legacy. Alongside his impressive creations, Smithson is credited with being one of the first artists to understand his work as project-driven, promoting a shift in the mindset of many artists of the time. Reflecting on his own work through writing, lecturing and curating, Smithson intensely considered the medium, location and language involved throughout his art projects. Image: Nancy Holt and Robert Smithson, shot by Gianfranco Gorgoni.
After experiencing a whirlwind success with their debut EP Woodland, indie folk five-piece The Paper Kites are celebrating their shiny new offering Young North with a series of captivating shows. In the past The Paper Kites have toured with the likes of Boy & Bear and Josh Pyke. The new EP sees The Paper Kites retaining the qualities that brought them the love and admiration of their fans. With earthy-sounding instruments that serve as a perfect backdrop for their harmonic, strong and sensual voices, The Paper Kites maintain a romantic and whimsical vibe to their tracks and a raw energy to their live performances. https://youtube.com/watch?v=Y8A_8rbakgg
Storytelling becomes the story in this darkly comic French drama. Smudging fiction and reality together in clever, self-aware meta-narratives has become little more than a cinematic cliche, but director François Ozon makes it ring true. Angelic, teenaged Claude (Ernst Umhauer) is both a black sheep and a lost lamb. Enraptured with the perfect family of his best friend Rapha (Bastien Ughetto) — middle class, cultureless and bored — he starts writing eloquent, yet pretty weird, short stories about them for French class. His soft-boiled, creepy observations mention things like "the singular scent of a middle-class woman" dripping off Rapha's mother. His disenchanted teacher, Germain (Fabrice Luchini), can't decide if Claude wants to belong to or destroy this newfound clan, but he's happy to finally have an engaged and talented student. And he's voyeuristically hooked by the sharply observed tales. Ozon (8 Women and Swimming Pool) is a director who likes his boundaries blurry and is skilled at making normality fascinating. As both Claude and Germain's longings become obsessions, the seam between the short stories and the real world of the film slips apart. My take? It's all real — it's the characters themselves who can't discern their inner desires from their outer lives. In the House has the slow-pulsing vertigo of a psychological thriller and the twists of an elaborate melodrama, but to reduce it to these labels seems glib. It's caustic and funny but never misanthropic, a study of the ways people actually live, rather than how we assume that they do. https://youtube.com/watch?v=eegoZpxQCzc
There are few bands with enough unfaltering stamina to line up a debaucherous, beer-fuelled pub crawl to kick off every night of their Australian tour. But Brisbane's Dune Rats leave the rules at home, abiding by one big ol' proviso: "no kooks, no gutties." Whatever the blazes that means, these bloody corker dudes surf self-generated waves of laidback party-fuelled philosophy. We checked in with the Dunies in Kuala Lumpur during the South East Asian leg of their world tour, or "Koala Kangaroo" as bassist Brett Jansch calls it. The Brisbane lads have been on a furious bender around the globe, rambling around South Africa, Europe and South East Asia in mobile homes and tour buses — with their sights set back home for June. "It's fuckin' awesome," Jansch says "Last night was like, the first time I've slept in a bed for like, the last however long it's been. Just chilled. We had like, a motorhome, then a little campervan all tour." It's good for the Dunies to kick back after months on the road, with all the modern conveniences that come with the gloriousness of hotel life. "I watched this thing on the TV last night called 100 Most Favourite '90s Songs or something, they had like LL Cool J and Marky Mark and shit, it was sick." https://youtube.com/watch?v=CjJ0ABIwOfo On An American Death Trip of Dreams Dune Rats' BC Michaels, Danny Beusa and Jansch have been away from home for some time now, heading to the US, staying in a New York AirBnB warehouse, driving along the West Coast from San Diego to Vancouver and filming their own (sorta) web series American Death Trip of Dreams. Then they bailed over to Europe and the UK. "Ah fuck, I just had such a sick time in the UK and Europe... In America I just get super fat and then washed up, then you get hungover and then you get fat again. Then it's ok, then you get fat again. It's not good for your health, America." "When we just came back, there was about two weeks at home and we all dissipated to our families' respective, like, sanctuary zones because everyone was just wrecked. Too much of America. Then we came to the UK and everyone's like, BC's gettin' a full six pack hey? Eatin' lots of fruit and veg for the last few weeks!" The Dunies made their way to Liverpool, playing an Aussie BBQ during the city's legendary festival Sound City. "That was fuckin' super fun. There were so many Brisbane bands there and we were all "How the fuck are we all here in one place?" That was actually a corker of a time hey." After months on the road, the Dunies will head back home to Australia for a national tour, showcasing their debut album set for release on June 1. It'll be the first time the trio have played to home audiences for months. The tour kicks off on the west coast and ends up back where they all started. "I'm pretty fucking excited to get home, that's for sure. We haven't played in Brissy for ages," says Jansch. "We've been away for so long and hopefully we can just get back and hang out with our buddies and just talk about anything else, find out what they're doin'. https://youtube.com/watch?v=0APj4u-56Jw On Turning an Australian Tour into a Pub Crawl Pieced together like a rambunctious escapade of regrets, the Dunies will host a pub crawl in every city before the gig for fans who've preordered their debut album (out June 1). "Well I guess you just want to get as fucked up as possible before the gig with all our friends and buddies that have preordered the album in order to come to the pub crawl," Jansch says in a wink-wink, nudge-nudge moment of please-buy-our-albumness. "We'll find the right place where we can all hang out together near the venue or whatever and just go pub to pub. "So honestly, we'll be going on a pub crawl all around Australia I guess. I wonder if anyone will come all the way with us. If someone does, they can definitely have a fuckin' t-shirt! They can have a hangover as well." Supporting Dune Rats will be different buds in each state. "We've kind of put together just all our fucking favourite bands and our friends to play, you know... So it's going to be a fucking party every night, especially now with our pub crawls and shit.," Jasnch realises. "Fuck, I think it's going to be a full wash up by the end of it." https://youtube.com/watch?v=1TKRT5IQtjQ On Writing at Brett's Mum's House The Dunies' debut album came to fruition in the most unlikely of locations. The trio headed to Brett's mum's house and started writing. Well, planted a vege patch, went surfing, wrote a bit, hung out, went surfing, wrote again, played a bit, all with Mum's permission. Has to be said: Coolest. Mum. Ever. "She was frothing! You know, I bet whenever the door was shut she was probably sitting on the fuckin' step outside, like with a megaphone in her ear. She was just lovin' it man," says Jansch. "Like, I fuckin' hate all our neighbours at home. But mum would always be like, play as long as you fuckin' want, as loud as you fuckin' want, fuck everybody," he laughs. The World's Best Mum and a solid support base has proved the best grounder for the Dunies, who wholly appreciate everything on their plate. "I guess we're all just fuckin' blown away that we can even go around the world on fuckin' tour... We don't take it for granted or anything. We're always constantly stoked, we're always frothing about all this shit." https://youtube.com/watch?v=lU3n6vRX8yY On Their Debut Album Like all groundbreaking things (Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, Ian McEwan's Atonement, Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock's The Lake House) the whole thing hinges around an important letter. "You know there's like, a letter from Steve Albine that surfaced, when Nirvana recorded 'In Utero'? He just outlined the idea of like, fuck all the bullshit, there's no need to slave over shit and try to get everything perfect. The best thing to ever do is probably just punch it out as it would come naturally. And what happened with that album is it turned out fuckin' awesome. [That's] exactly what we were kinda talking about. "We just didn't wanna fuckin' do all this stupid shit that bands do with an album. We just wanted to record the song that we made up in the shed. And that was just this nice inspiration to think oh fuck, you know what? We actually can do it the way that that we'd like to and it'll turn out right." The album was recorded and mixed at Melbourne's Red Door Studios, in the capable hands of Woody Anderson (tour manager and sound engineer for Children Collide). The whole process — recording, mixing, the lot — took just four weeks. "It was all super chilled, all with Woody — just fuckin' easy peasy," says Jansch. "It was pretty much just a bunch of us in the studio, fuckin' chillin' out, makin' the songs." Dune Rats is a rambunctious ride through moments of pure silliness ('Dalai Lama' has five words in total: "Dalai Lama, Big Banana, marijuana,") and heartfelt bouts ('Home Sick'). Jansch is insistent, however, the trio didn't set out to make a particular type of song any given day. "It wasn't like "Ahhh what's today fellas? Let's try and write a funny song." All of them just fuckin' turned out." DUNE RATS TOUR DATES: June 12 - Mojo's, Fremantle WA June 13 - Amplifier, Perth WA June 14 - Uni Bar, Adelaide SA June 19 - Karova Lounge, Ballarat VIC June 20 - The Corner Hotel, Melbourne VIC June 21 - Oxford Art Factory, Sydney NSW June 28 - The Zoo, Brisbane QLD TO REGISTER FOR THE DUNIES PRE PARTIES: 1. Pre-order the album Dune Rats for ten beans at iTunes or JB HiFi. 2. Forward your iTunes or JB HiFi album preorder receipt and your mobile number to stuff@ratbagrecords.com. 3. Let the Dunies know which pre-show you'd like to go to from the dates above. 4. Wait. Recieve the deets on the morning of the show. Then party on dudes. For more details about the Dune Rats pub crawls and to preorder the album head over here. Dune Rats debut album is out Sunday, June 1.
Feel more comfortable behind the camera, than in front? Head to the Mornington Peninsula Regional Gallery and find out how some of the best portrait photographers go about their business. Now in its tenth year, the National Photographic Portrait Prize is Australia's leading award for portrait photography, with this year's competition attracting more than 3000 entries, which the jury selected 49 exhibiting finalists from. Back in March, prominent Sydney photographer Gary Grealy was announced as this year's winner, offering a sombre portrait of ABC television presenter Richard Morecroft and his partner, and acclaimed painter, Alison Mackay. While many of the images submitted to the National Photographic Portrait Prize are stunning in their technical achievements, the panel of selectors look for images that see the photographer create an atmosphere where the subject 'reveals a glimpse of their inner self'. The finalists' portraits will be showing at the Mornington Peninsula Regional Gallery until Sunday, November 26. Image: The Mirror, Spencer and Lloyd Ha.
We all know that the Mornington Peninsula is home to stunning natural wonders and hidden gems, but let's not forget about its booming industry of local talent. From artists, designers and sustainable entrepreneurs to brewers and winemakers, the Peninsula is a place ripe with creativity. To showcase this talent, Stoker Studio will be hosting an inaugural Design & Drink Market with the help of online local guide The Ninch. So, head along on Saturday, April 30 and you'll discover all that area has to offer in terms of small-batch and sustainable products, as well as craft beverages. Stoker Studio will be home to a plethora of stalls for your perusing, with textiles from Sundance Studio, wine from Kerri Greens, and wares from Kate Bowman Ceramics and Boatshed Cheese among the items that'll be tempting your wallet. The market will run from 1–6pm, and attendees are asked to come with some spare change — as entry is via gold coin donation, with the proceeds going to for Jimmy's Youth Wellbeing Centre. You can also expect live music and great vibes suitable for the whole family (including the pups). [caption id="attachment_850818" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Kerri Greens Winery[/caption]
For some comic relief in the aftermath of the emotionally gruelling marriage equality campaign, head to Caz Reitop's Dirty Secrets rooftop this Thursday, November 23 to see comedians Kirsty Webeck and Jude Perl. "It's going to be a celebration that the postal survey is over and I can get back to focusing on comedy," says LGBTIQ rights activist Kirsty Webeck and creator of those hilarious 'The Postal Survey Made Me' Gayer t-shirts. With 61.6 percent of Australian respondents giving a definitive 'YES' to same-sex couples' right to marry, there's certainly cause to celebrate, but uncertainty remains on when the requisite legislation will actually be enacted. In the meantime, a bit of self-care in the form of an intimate comedy night may just be the way to go. Kirsty and Jude, who are both performing at the 2018 Melbourne International Comedy Festival, will kick things off at 7.30pm.
A long time ago in this very galaxy, a whole year passed by without a new Star Wars movie hitting cinemas. That year was 2014, with Disney delivering a fresh trilogy of flicks and two spinoffs to big screens for five years straight between 2015–19 — introducing the world to new lightsaber-wielding characters, farewelling old favourites and delving into stellar side stories. Alas, in 2020, that run is coming to an end. More Star Wars movies are planned, because of course they are; however, wannabe Jedis won't be watching them just yet. But that doesn't mean that the force won't be with us this year, with The Mandalorian's second season heading to Disney+ from Friday, October 30. For those that missed it or need a refresher — the Star Wars universe certainly does sprawl far and wide, both within its tales and in its many different movies, shows, books and games — the Emmy-nominated show follows the titular bounty hunter (Pedro Pascal). In the series' first season, which was set five years after Star Wars: Episode XI — Return of the Jedi and aired last year, that meant tracking his latest gigs. And, it also involved charting his encounter with a fuzzy little creature officially known as The Child, but affectionately named Baby Yoda by everyone watching. Also on offer the first time around: Breaking Bad's Giancarlo Esposito playing villain Moff Gideon, aka the ex-Galactic Empire security officer determined to capture The Child; everyone from Carl Weathers and Taika Waititi to Werner Herzog playing ex-magistrates, droids and enigmatic strangers; and plenty of planet-hopping. Yes, it was firmly a Star Wars TV series, and yes, it plans to continue in the same manner. As the just-dropped first trailer for The Mandalorian's second season shows, it also plans to once again focus on one of television's best pairings. Not only is Mando back, but so is the oh-so-adorable Baby Yoda. The duo's quest to return to The Child's home planet continues, and they aren't parting ways on the journey — "wherever I go, he goes," Mando advises. In addition to showering viewers in Baby Yoda's cuteness, the eight-episode new season will see Boba Fett (Temuera Morrison) pop up — it is a show about a bounty hunter, after all — plus Timothy Olyphant and Rosario Dawson join the cast. Behind the lens, directors include showrunner Jon Favreau, Jurassic World star Bryce Dallas Howard, Dope's Rick Famuyiwa, Ant-Man's Peyton Reed and Alita: Battle Angel's Robert Rodriguez, as well as Weathers doing double duty on-screen and off. Check out the trailer below: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5LkkaL-y6Hc&feature=youtu.be The Mandalorian's second season hits Disney+ on Friday, October 30. FYI, this story includes some affiliate links. These don't influence any of our recommendations or content, but they may make us a small commission. For more info, see Concrete Playground's editorial policy. Top image: Disney+
Internationally acclaimed artist Bill Henson has created a new series of photographs as part of a permanent installation at Melbourne's Hellenic Museum. Titled ONEIROI, the series incorporates the priceless treasures from the award-winning Gods, Myths & Mortals exhibition, which are on long-term loan from Athens' Benaki Museum. Housed inside a dedicated gallery within the majestic heritage-listed former Royal Mint building (which is home to the Greek museum), the new exhibition space has been designed by Henson to complement the photographs in the collection. Henson's work often deals with the theme of transition and otherworldliness, and here he seeks to transcend a single culture to encompass the collective imagination of Melburnians. ONEIROI is inspired by Greek history and mythology, and explores the impact of history, beauty, culture and art. "Just like the treasures selected by Bill Henson, the resultant photographs that form the collection ONEIROI are unique, without editions, reflecting the nature of the Benaki treasures they incorporate, thus respecting and honouring their originality and timelessness," said CEO of the Hellenic Museum, John Tatoulis. ONEROI officially opens officially on Friday, April 8 and will be on permanent display at the Hellenic Museum.
Andy Harmsen’s new play Foreign Bodies is an attempt at unpacking the truth behind our society’s relationship with pornography. A young Australian journalist, Martin (Alan Chambers), arrives at the Mumbai hotel room of ex-porn star, Arizona Snow (Marika Marosszeky), to interview her for a profile. As they talk, the interview quickly spires out of control, before plunging into more fraught conflict between the pair. It’s difficult to find much to recommend in this production. Both the actors are obviously capable performers, even if the confines of the muggy, atmospheric space highlight many points where they overreach in volume and intensity. Director Chris Baldock has carved out an impressive career in Melbourne theatre, culminating in an acclaimed independent production of The Laramie Project. But just as Arizona is seen in a fleeting, intriguing image at the play’s beginning, attempting to contort her body into the shape of an Indian deity, the greatest sense is that the actors and director are working within confines imposed by the flawed text. The characters are intensely unlikeable but are drawn so inconsistently that it’s difficult to even root against them. At points, the characterisation appears almost arbitrary — in particular Martin’s sudden outbursts of casual racism, which are just as inchoate as the muffled banging and yelling of the play’s (offstage) Indian characters. As the play winds down, the clanking move towards pathos doesn’t humanise these figures. If anything, in the context of the action onstage, such a tonal shift just further debauches an otherwise tender moment. The program notes refer to Zizek's notion of "the tragedy of pornography" — its inability to be taken seriously. But shows like this are a reminder that the subtle inverse is true: that tragedy is pornography — that since Ancient Greece, playwrights have taken a female object and denied her agency to elevate a male subject. What Foreign Bodies doesn’t do is critique that dynamic with any sense of self-awareness. Instead, the level of engagement with ideas as complex as the conflict between our public and private persona skitters along an undisturbed surface. For all the talk of penetration, 70 minutes in the theatre leave us no more illuminated than when we entered.
There's a certain moment between waking up in a hot tent, losing your boot sole in shin-deep mud and slipping up the side of a muddy, muddy amphitheatre that we remember this unshakable music addiction of ours is fukt. Yet year after year, we load up our borrowed cars with hidden goon sacks, blow-up Kmart mattresses, '90s throwback playlists and enough muesli bars to make our mums happy and we drive our timetable-highlighting butts to the music mecca to rule them all post-BDO: Splendour in the Grass. Why do we do it? Why do we skate through mudpiles resembling a human bowel system? Why do we munch on greasy moshpit ponytails between burling throat-scraping vocals? Why do we shell out ten beans a tinny for watery piss that calls itself beer? Seems we can't shake this pesky music lovefiend. Returning to North Byron Parklands, this year's Splendour in the Grass gained wraps from the 5-0 for 'good behaviour' (the badly behaved are still sitting in sinkholes in the Mix Up tent), slam dunked three big gun headliners in a row (Mark Ronson, Florence and the Machine, Blur), and generally became the mudbath we annually buy novelty gumboots for. While we counted no less than seventeen headdresses and found an entire Splendour stall selling the damn things, there was a limited quota of douchebaggery to be seen — or perhaps they were simply easier to avoid; mud maketh muppets of the munted. Instead, here's what made us cheer for an encore. CLIENT LIAISON With a bigger budget and bigger audiences to boot, Client Liaison have become the nostalgia-fuelled spectacle they've been threatening to be for years; ferns, pastel tuxedos, gold necklaces, and three incredible legs-for-days aerobic dancers to pose Lampoon-style around Client's disco-dancin' Monte Morgan. With co-Liaison Harvey Miller tweaking singles 'Queen' and 'End of the Earth', Client finished up with a cover of INXS's 'Need You Tonight' with longtime live bandmate and triple j Hack presenter Tom Tilley. FLORENCE AND THE MACHINE Florence Welch is the new messiah. Well, you'd be forgiven for thinking so after this large-scale bapitism-by-ballad. Characteristically bare-footed and donning flowing white threads to rival Stevie Nicks, the British powerhouse entranced the amphitheatre with soaring vocals and theatrical spirit fingers, backed by her mighty Machine — stopping to remind the audience of her first Splendour performance in a Surry Hills-bought vintage wedding dress many moons ago. With expectations high following her slam dunk of a 2015 Coachella set, Welch careened through single to fan favourite to 'Dog Days Are Over' finish with the level of high energy usually associated with Bacchanalian wood nymphs. TAME IMPALA The last time Tame Impala played Splendour, they debuted a little ol' single called 'Elephant' three years ago. This year, Kevin Parker and his psychedelic bunch came armed with brand new album Currents and an amphitheatre full of expectant fans (and granted, Blur fans trying to get a good spot). It's not every artist who's confident enough to drop seven-minute single 'Let It Happen', or open a set with it, but Parker's not every artist. BLUR "You're all fucked, aren't you." Blur frontman Damon Albarn knew an end of Splendour audience when he saw one, bubbling with anticipation at seeing the '90s Britpop legends united in the ampitheatre on Sunday night. Saluting the moon, bounding about the stage like a merry pirate and getting up in fan faces over the almost two-hour set, Albarn steered Alex James, Graham Coxon and Dave Rowntree through a furiously fast 'Song 2', beloved singles 'Beetlebum', 'Parklife' and 'There's No Other Way' amongst plenty of material from new album Magic Whip. Finishing up the festival with epic 1995 ballad 'The Universal' made whimpering messes of fans amphitheatre-wide. PURITY RING Though the Mix Up tent was almost literally sinking into the mud, Canada's Purity Ring took Splendour punters to new heights of euphoria. Multi-instrumentalist Corin Roddick commanded booming synths and playable light-up crystals, while elven vocalist Megan James jumped, skipped and serenaded like a futuristic woodland sprite, blitzing everything from 'Push Pull' to 'Fineshrine'. MARK RONSON With Theophilus London, Kevin Parker, Daniel Merriweather, Keyone Starr and co. in tow, Mark Ronson's all-star variety show careened through the superstar producer's hit-dotted career so far; from explosive opener 'Feel Right' to a heartfelt 'Valerie' singalong using Amy Winehouse's original vocals. After cheesily getting bikes onstage for 'The Bike Song', bringing out Miike Snow's Andrew Wyatt for a rendition of the Ronson-co-written single 'Animal', Ronson dropped the firecracker Splendour was waiting for: a ten minute, rain-drenched bacchanal fuelled by 'Uptown Funk'. Worth the subsequent flu. MØ If you've ever wanted to feel as old as humanly possible at a live gig, see a MØ gig. The Danish electro pop singer (real name Karen Marie Ørsted) made a mockery of ageing, blasting out a youth-fuelled escapade into her debut album No Mythologies to Follow in the Mix Up tent — finishing up with a giant singalong of Major Lazer and DJ Snake single 'Lean On'. Ørsted gave a nod to her buddy Elliphant, the pint-sized Swedish pseudo rapper who'd similarly stopped time the day before, with a sultry rendition of their duet 'One More'. JENNY LEWIS While DZ Deathrays melted faces in the amphitheatre and Japanese Wallpaper threw shapes for giggly teenfans, longtime crooner Jenny Lewis was kicking goals over in the GW McLennan tent. Turning what should be a sheriff-badged country hoedown into a candy-coloured pop shop, as Lewis's pastel rainbow-themed set flagged new material from her latest album The Voyager. Lewis has never been better. Sauntering through old heartwrenchers like 'With Arms Outstretched', and new buzz tracks 'Just One of the Guys' and 'She's Not Me', the ever pitch perfect Lewis dropped a bit of 'Bad News' for Rilo Kiley fans late in the set. Kudos go to Lewis's lead guitarist and keyboardist who joined Lewis for a three-part harmony a la Brother Where Art Thou that left no dry eye in the house. UV BOI If you're not across this 18-year-old Brisbane producer, take note. One of the most original and refreshing producers in the game right now, UV boi threw every genre in the book in the bin with his Tiny Dancer stage set. JARRYD JAMES There's a lot to be said for a killer single. Brisbane's Jarryd James has been kicking serious goals over the last 12 months, with a debut album on the way and a multi-platinum single 'Do You Remember' tailor-made for a big ol' Splendour singalong. But James is more than his big breakthrough song, showcasing the his Frank Ocean-meets-Blackstreet catalogue to a packed-out Mix Up tent. "Thanks for coming and hanging out, I know my music's not party music." Beg to differ bro, beg to differ. THE SMITH STREET BAND Melbourne's bighearted rockers hit it out of the ballpark on Splendour's sunny, sunny Saturday afternoon, while toilet paper rolls soared over the crowd. "I dare anyone else playing at Splendour to sweat this much," mused frontman Wil Wagner staring straight into the sun and leading his crew and one heck of an adoring crowd through such hard-hitting jewels as 'I Don't Wanna Die Anymore', 'Don't Fuck With Our Dreams' and the nostalgia-driven 'Young Drunk' in front of a huge banner preaching "Real Australians say welcome". Total legends. THE DANDY WARHOLS Though slightly lacking in vocal volume, the Dandies put on one energetic show for their boob-flashing fans. Bouncing from mega single 'We Used to Be Friends' to Thirteen Tales From Urban Bohemia throwbacks like 'Mohammed' and 'Bohemian Like You', the Oregonians proved unexpected highlights for both longtime fans and Dandy newcomers alike — all trying to get a solid footing on the perilously muddy amphitheatre slopes. VALLIS ALPS Watch out for these two. Filing the Mix Up tent for Saturday's perilously early midday slot, bright young up-and-comers Vallis Alps served up their dreamy brand of Chrome Sparks-like electronica to new ears. The Canberra and Seattle-based duo blitzed their fourth ever live show (yep, kids today), cranking a beauty of a Bon Iver 'Blood Bank' cover and finishing up with big buzz single 'Young'. MEGAN WASHINGTON Surrounded by metallic balloons and playing the absolute crap out of her beloved keyboard, Washington delivered one of her most energetic, stadium-like sets yet. The real showstopper? A mid-'My Heart Is a Wheel' cover of Real McCoy's 'Another Night', with Washo's keyboardist crushing that immortal 'rap' bit. Plus, punters got to nab those silver balloons, most of which were released into the night during Tame Impala's amphitheatre set. Magic. #1 DADS Last show for Tom Isanek's #1 Dads side project, and what an emotional feelbucket it was — from the heartbreaking 'Return To' featuring Tom Snowdon to that glorious, widely celebrated cover of FKA Twigs’s 'Two Weeks’. JOHNNY MARR Watching a legend play their own iconic guitar lick reminds you of how many bad cover bands you've seen over the years. Legendary guitarist for The Smiths Johnny Marr commanded the GW McLennan tent with tracks from his latest album The Messenger, but indulged in a few Smiths classics for fans, nailing Morrissey's warbling vocals in 'There Is a Light That Never Goes Out' and finishing up with the howling 'How Soon Is Now'. Images: Bianca Holderness, A. Catt, Justin Ma, Savannah Vander Niet, Claudia Ciapocha, Ian Laidlaw, Stephen Booth, Marc Grimwade, UV Boi.
They're taking the hobbits to Isengard at The Astor Theatre, with one movie marathon to rule them all. Round up the Fellowship, stock up on lembas bread for sustenance and hide your finest pipe-weed from the Southfarthing for a sitting of all three of Peter Jackson's beloved OG Tolkien film adaptations in their extended editions. Kicking off with The Fellowship of the Ring and ending with The Return of the King (with The Two Towers in the middle, of course), this cave troll of a marathon will see you making the cinema your home for 755 minutes at the screening on Saturday, June 28, 2025. There'll be a 20-minute intermission between each flick, with the first kicking off at 11am, the second at 3pm and the third at 7.30pm. If you make it through breakfast and second breakfast to the final handful of endings, you can pat yourself on the back and smash a ringwraith screech at the nearest person on your way home (note: do not actually screech at people). Tickets are the precious and come in at $40 for the whole ordeal 0r $35 for Palace Movie Club members.
UPDATE, January 14, 2022: A Quiet Place Part II is available to stream via Paramount+, Google Play, YouTube Movies, iTunes and Amazon Video. When every noise you make could send savage aliens stalking, slashing and slaughtering your way, it's the waiting that gets you. When you're watching a nerve-rattling horror film about that exact scenario, the same sentiment remains relevant. In A Quiet Place, the Abbott family went into survival mode after vicious creatures invaded, hunted down every sound and dispensed with anyone that crossed their path. For the characters in and viewers of the 2018 hit alike, the experience couldn't have screamed louder with anxiety and anticipation. Evelyn and Lee (Wild Mountain Thyme's Emily Blunt and Detroit's John Krasinski) and their children Regan (Millicent Simmonds, Wonderstruck), Marcus (Noah Jupe, The Undoing) and Beau (Cade Woodward, Avengers: Endgame) all silently bided their time simply trying to stay safe and alive, but their continued existence lingered under a gut-wrenching shadow. The critters were still out there, listening for even a whisper. It was a matter of when, not if, they'd discern the slightest of noises and strike again. That type of waiting drips with tension and suspense, and also with the kind of inevitability that hovers over everyone alive. A certain bleak end awaits us all, a truth we routinely attempt to ignore; however, neither the Abbotts nor A Quiet Place's audience were allowed to forget that grim fact for even a moment. Initially slated to arrive in cinemas two years later, then delayed by the pandemic for 14 months, sequel A Quiet Place Part II isn't done with waiting. The film doesn't shy away from the stress and existential distress that marking time can bring, but it also tasks its characters with actively confronting life's inevitabilities. After an intense and impressive tone-setting opening flashback to the first day of the alien attack, when the Abbotts' sleepy hometown learns of humanity's new threat in the cruellest fashion, the storyline picks up where its predecessor left off. It's day 474 — the earlier film spent most of its duration around day 472 — and Evelyn, Regan, Marcus and the family's newborn are grappling with their losses. That said, they're also keenly aware that they can't stay in their Appalachian farmhouse any longer. After spotting smoke on the horizon and setting off in that direction, they reconnect with Emmett (Cillian Murphy, Peaky Blinders), an old friend who has been through his own traumas. Evelyn sees safety in numbers, but he's reluctant to help. Then Regan hears a looping radio transmission playing 'Beyond the Sea' and decides to track down its source. The plan: find other survivors, and also find a way to get the upper hand over their aggressors, all to stop spending their time simply waiting. A Quiet Place Part II isn't about making do, closing ranks and merely enduring, but about making a concerted choice to try to conquer an immensely difficult situation even when the odds seem insurmountable. No one can ultimately escape death, of course. Still, when it lurks in the form of extra-terrestrials who seem to have borrowed their resourcefulness and reflexes from Jurassic Park's raptors (and their ability to withstand most threats from Terminator 2: Judgment Day's killing machines), you can plan, prepare, fight and outsmart. The first film also used its alien attack story to explore the parental urge to protect children from life's harms, but here, writer/director/co-star Krasinski ponders the realisation that dawns upon all mums and dads eventually: that, despite their best efforts, their kids will always have to face the world's woes on their own terms. Both formidable and maternal — because the 'strong female lead' trope shouldn't exclusively favour the former — Blunt is once again a force to be reckoned with as the doting, wearied but determined Evelyn. But, while she's given top billing, this isn't the Looper, Edge of Tomorrow and Sicario star's film. Krasinski doesn't just broaden out the movie's mindset, themes and slice of dystopian life, but also expands his focus. The feature's second half masterfully intertwines Evelyn's efforts to get supplies, Marcus' struggles while babysitting and Regan's perilous quest, and it's the latter that's given pride of place. And, once more, rising talent Simmonds is exceptional. With her character proving bold, poised and resolved to do her best for her family, the young actor radiates confidence, commitment and fortitude. Indeed, while she could've been left to play sidekick to Murphy in a surrogate father-daughter relationship, there's no doubting that Simmonds is the film's hero — whether or not her character, who is deaf, is using her hearing aid as a weapon. Pushing Regan to the fore, and Simmonds with her, is a smart, savvy, engaging and rewarding move on Krasinski's part — and it's not the only choice he's made that earns that description. The film's aforementioned opening, including a particularly stunning shot set in the thick of the chaos, provides the type of spectacle that most movies can only dream of. (If the actor-turned-filmmaker wanted to dive headfirst into the action genre next, he'd have zero troubles settling in.) A Quiet Place Part II may spend more time squaring off against its aliens, rather than dwelling in a world where they'e an ever-present but often-unseen threat, but it never overplays its hand. In its fast-paced narrative, intimate visuals and pitch-perfect audio, it never simply rehashes its predecessor and hopes that the same successes will spring, either. The Abbotts' mission has evolved, as has the vivid cinematography (by Legion's Polly Morgan) that sees this post-apocalyptic world with a bittersweet eye, and the meticulous, characteristically silence-heavy soundscape as well. While the feature's potency and skill doesn't come as a surprise this time around, and neither does the unsettling unease that comes with all that waiting and those pervasive hushed tones, every second of this stellar sequel is no less thrilling. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ku4yAbIu6ao A Quiet Place Part II opens in Australian cinemas on Thursday, May 27, with advance screenings over the weekend of Friday, May 21–Sunday, May 23.
After years of work and countless headlines, the Metro Tunnel is finally set to open, with passengers invited to experience the landmark $15 billion project from early December. Now, to celebrate its grand reveal, Victorian Premier Jacinta Allan has announced the public can travel for free every weekend from opening day until Sunday, February 1. Set to double the size of Melbourne's underground rail network, the Metro Tunnel will undoubtedly attract plenty of passengers from day one. Yet the announcement comes as a gesture of thanks to commuters, given that the big build has caused frequent disruptions to travel plans over the last few years. "To say thank you to Victorians for their [patience, we are] delivering free public transport for everyone every weekend, everywhere in our state," said Premier Allan, speaking to Today. "From the opening of the metro tunnel in early December through to the first of February, when we integrate this amazing piece of infrastructure into the [public transport network]." Representing the most significant change to the City Loop since it opened almost 45 years ago, the opening of the Metro Tunnel is being implemented through a two-phase process. At first, services will run mainly between West Footscray and Westall. Then, on February 1, the so-called Big Switch arrives, with Cranbourne, Pakenham and Sunbury Line services running exclusively through the Metro Tunnel. In real terms, that means over 1000 new weekly services added on the Sunbury Line, with another 100-plus added to the weekly timetable for Cranbourne and Pakenham passengers. Meanwhile, Frankston Line trains will return to the City Loop, and Werribee and Williamstown line services will run directly to and from Flinders Street. Arriving on the back of more free transport news, this soft launch approach provides a little more runway to bed down new infrastructure, technology and procedures. According to Allan, "This is how you do it to get a smooth, safe start, to get passengers using this infrastructure at the earliest opportunity." Weekend travel will be free on Melbourne's public transport network from the soon-to-be-announced opening date of the Metro Tunnel until Sunday, February 1. Head to the website for more information. Top image: iStock.
UPDATE, April 30, 2021: If Beale Street Could Talk is available to stream via Binge, Foxtel Now, Google Play and YouTube Movies. What a joy it is to rove one's eyes over Barry Jenkins' films. Not just to watch, or to take in their stories, but to truly gaze upon his images and revel in every visible detail. Cinematography has been described as painting with light, and it's a turn of phrase that wholeheartedly applies to the filmmaker's work with his regular director of photography James Laxton. But in Moonlight and now If Beale Street Could Talk, the duo don't merely splash brightness and shadow across the screen, although they do just that with exhilarating precision. Jenkins and Laxton also paint with movement, thanks to swirling frames that instantly evoke the feelings being experienced by their characters — the feeling of only having eyes for one person no matter what else is happening in the world, for example. And they paint with colour, expanding their tales through telling hues, including warm, inviting reds and moody, swoon-inducing blues. It's fitting that colour plays such a prominent role, visually, in If Beale Street Could Talk. Adapted by Jenkins from the late James Baldwin's novel of the same name, colour plays a driving role in the film's narrative. As the exceptional documentary I Am Not Your Negro demonstrated in 2017, Baldwin was perceptive, impassioned and understandably enraged about the topic of race relations in America, a perspective that always remains apparent here. If Beale Street Could Talk is a romance, charting an unbreakable bond between childhood pals turned neighbourhood sweethearts Tish Rivers (KiKi Layne) and Alonzo 'Fonny' Hunt (Stephan James). However, as set in 1970s Harlem, it's also an account of how prejudice shapes their everyday reality. Aged 19 and 22, this deeply infatuated couple know that just getting by won't be easy. They're well aware of the disadvantages they've been born into because of their skin colour. They endure this difficult reality everyday, whether trying to find an apartment or simply stopping by the corner deli. Then Fonny is arrested and incarcerated for a crime that he didn't commit, a development that's sadly as topical and relevant today as it was when Baldwin was penning his prose. That's not the only life-changing development within If Beale Street Could Talk, with Tish discovering that she's pregnant, then revealing the news to Fonny through the forbidding glass of a prison visitors' room. Battling to save one life while preparing to welcome another, the star-crossed pair discover how hard they'll have to fight for what's right. The conflict extends to their home turf, where his family are far from happy about adding to their number — but Tish's, especially her steely, devoted mother Sharon (Regina King), is willing to do whatever it takes to help. Black lives devastated by discrimination, young lovers braving seemingly insurmountable obstacles: both tales have played out across countless pages and screens before, although not as they do so here. There's a bewitching alchemy to the combination of Baldwin's words and Jenkins' direction — never shying away from the despairing truth of the situation, but never wallowing in inescapable bleakness either. Indeed, If Beale Street Could Talk takes the opposite position. As its entrancing imagery and emotive score always remind viewers, this is a film of love above all else. Affection doesn't dissipate when times are tough. Kindness isn't absent from lives thwarted by institutionalised oppression. Rather, affection and intimacy are the counterforce that keeps a flicker of light glowing in marginalised eyes. If love can sustain a man faced with losing his freedom, a woman trying to remain strong as her world crumbles and a mother pushed to desperate deeds to protect her family, then it can survive anything. In every sensory stylistic touch, Jenkins paints this revolutionary sentiment across If Beale Street Could Talk's frames. Make no mistake, finding such delight and beauty amidst such struggle is revolutionary. So is recognising that these characters' stories, and the characters themselves, are rich, detailed and worthy of being treated and seen in such a tender way. Jenkins tells tales and peers at people with empathy that's palpable, intoxicating and infectious. Thanks to his winning way with actors, he also has considerable assistance. From King's rightfully awarded efforts, to Colman Domingo's caring turn as Tish's father, to Dave Franco's brief appearance as a generous landlord, there are no weak links here. Still, it should come as no surprise that Layne and James earn the camera's adoration. More than that, they demand it. Together, they make a shared glance seem like the most important moment in the world, whether it's exchanged beneath autumn trees or directed through physical barriers. What a joy it is to witness their exquisite performances and natural chemistry, all while their protagonists weather both infuriating trials and quiet triumphs. And, what a joy it is to watch them in this — Jenkins' heart-swelling, insightful and yet almost dream-like piece of cinematic perfection. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d8qbq6Z6HYk
When things start going bump in the night in Under the Shadow, supernatural forces aren't the most obvious culprit. The first time the walls start to shudder, it's because a missile has struck the building that aspiring medical student Shideh (Narges Rashidi) shares with her doctor husband Iraj (Bobby Nadri) and their daughter Dorsa (Avin Manshadi). The year is 1988, and Tehran is still in the throes of the Iran-Iraq war. Here, trembling, crumbling structures are far from uncommon — and neither is an unhappy fate. The film's era and setting both ooze unease, something that first-time writer-director Babak Anvari uses to his advantage. From the moment the movie opens with Shideh trying and failing to resume her studies after period of political activism, the historical circumstances behind Under the Shadow never escape attention. At home, Shideh is clearly unhappy as she argues with Iraj about their choices — and the relative freedom he enjoys, compared to her housebound life as a wife and mother. She's trapped several times over: in a veil whenever she steps outside, in her apartment due to her role in her family, and by the combat that rages on the streets. The only thing that could make her situation even worse is the ghostly entity that arrives with the missile and tries to lure Dorsa away. The horror genre has enjoyed a long history of processing trouble and trauma through otherworldly occurrences, and of examining the struggles of femininity, too. Think Rosemary's Baby's devilish interpretation of motherhood, The Exorcist's head-spinning take on puberty, and It Follows' infectious look at teenage sexuality, just to name a few. Following in their footsteps, as well as those of recent Aussie effort The Babadook, Under the Shadow probes its oppressive, war-torn setting – and Shideh's place in it as a woman – via the tropes of an unnervingly effective haunted house story. Indeed, while it's the statement behind the scares that lingers long after viewing, Anvari's mastery of genre conventions is no less potent. Intelligent commentary and evoking a physical reaction go hand-in-hand in Under the Shadow, with the latter achieved through an array of fright-inducing techniques. Roaming camerawork stalks through Shideh's apartment to unsettling effect, while glimpses of seemingly ordinary rooms reveal spooky sights over time. Anvari knows when to creep and peer, and when to run and shake — and both inspire a response. Under the Shadow doesn't just hit the mark on a thematic and visceral level, however. It also navigates complex emotional terrain. In addition to charting the havoc caused by Dorsa's new supernatural pal, the film's narrative is one of ordinary lives impacted by conflict, and of a woman living in a society defined by restrictive gender roles. That's where Rashidi proves not only to be the movie's unblinking eyes, but also its unwavering heart. She jumps, like the audience, but she also refuses to give in. In doing so, she provides viewers with an insight into the many sinister aspects of her plight, and leaving them wondering just which part is the most terrifying. Read our interview with director Babak Anvari here. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G_ATX4C8Pmw
It's worrying the way we deride films aimed at an older audiences as simply being a Best Exotic Marigold Hotel facsimile designed to snare seniors, given how we largely ignore the fact that the majority of mainstream cinema over the past 30 years has been made for 12-year-old boys. Philomena, with its poster depicting a smiling Judi Dench alongside a stoic Steve Coogan, will no doubt be dismissively lumped in with this crowd. It is, however, a million miles away from the likes of Best Exotic (which, for the record, was actually rather good). Based on a true story, Philomena follows ex-political spin doctor Martin Sixsmith (Coogan), who, in an attempt to revive his journalism career, chases the "human interest story" of Philomena (Dench) an elderly woman searching for her long-lost son. In flashbacks, we see the younger Philomena (Sophie Kennedy Clark) as she becomes pregnant out of wedlock, and is forcibly kept in servitude by nuns, who then sell her son to a wealthy couple. As the pair investigates, the truth behind the forced adoption becomes all the more shocking. Coogan, who not only portrays Sixsmith but also co-wrote the screenplay, strikes a perfect tone with such sensitive material. The revelations are powerful and honest without being gut-wrenching; the comedy is welcome and consistent without being inappropriate. It's a remarkable juggling act, directed beautifully by Stephen Frears, who atones for recent disasters Lay the Favorite and Tamara Drewe. Coogan's sardonic Northern charm makes Sixsmith a compelling lead, and his relationship with Dench's Philomena is wonderfully developed. It's Dench who is the real standout here. At this point in her career, she could easily get away with sleepwalking through roles, relying on her undeniable presence to carry her performances. But as in 2006's Notes on a Scandal, she creates a character unrecognisable from her previous roles. Philomena is pleasant, vague, forceful and compellingly well-rounded. Dench's energy and attention to detail elevates this film to something even more remarkable. The depiction of the Catholic structure both past and present is one of the most fascinating elements of Philomena. It's caused controversy, with many accusing the film of being anti-Catholic. To make such an accusation, however, fundamentally misses the point, and excuses the crimes committed in the name of the church. The film does not shy away from Philomena's piety or Sixsmith's atheism, and argues strongly in favour of both. Sixsmith is deeply compassionate without religion, whilst Philomena embodies the ideals of Christianity that the Church and its representatives so often and so demonstrably forget. Disinterested in a sanitised "I'm okay, you're okay" message, the film manages to extol the best elements of both atheism and Christianity whilst unrelentingly and unapologetically shining a light on the darker side of organised religion. It is truly impressive stuff. Be not fooled by the marketing materials, which make the film look like an aged-up version of The Trip with Judi Dench in place of Rob Brydon. (Although, thinking about it, that would be brilliant.) Philomena is a terrifically made, entertaining work that stands head and shoulders above many of the films being forced upon us this Christmas. See it. https://youtube.com/watch?v=rD8f9kn7D2U
Sydney's Wild Life Zoo may be temporarily closed to the public, but its keepers are continuing to feed and care for its many animals, big, small, scaly and slimy. And it's inviting you to get in on the action this week when it live streams the feeding of one of its biggest residents. At 2.30pm AEDT on Wednesday, March 25, you can watch Rocky the mammoth 365-kilogram saltwater crocodile splash around in his large pool, clamp his jaws around snacks and maybe even show off a death roll or two. Before the feeding kicks off, there'll be a Q&A with Rocky's keepers Caroline, Ashley and Sofia, who'll be answering all of your questions about the world's largest reptile. Thankfully, this isn't the only live-stream the zoo is planning. Keep an eye on its Facebook page for future cute and slightly scary content, including possible koala cuddles, snake feeding and after-dark hangs with the nocturnal animals. Live-Stream: Feeding Time with Rocky the Crocodile is happening at 2.30pm AEDT via Wild Life Zoo's Facebook page.
Lily Mae Martin is an artist, mother of a two-year old and writer who has moved from Berlin to Wales to Melbourne to Berlin and back again: all within the last four years. Phew. She keeps two amazing blogs, one to update her online art portfolio, and the other to document the surprising beauty found in everyday domesticity. In Berlin Domestic, Lily actively observes her life as a mother and artist, and uploads sketches of household objects like laundry baskets, stacked dishes, crockery cupboards and rumpled tablecloths. On July 20, she will be presenting a one-off workshop for would-be artists at the PopUp School in Abbotsford Convent. Participants will learn drawing basics, different techniques from perspective to composition, and the trick to finding inspiration in a cup of tea or cracked vase of flowers. Don't miss out on developing your artsy skills and watching the unbelievably talented Lily in action. Book now — all materials are supplied.
Summer is in the air, and with it the smell of fresh popcorn, as starlight screenings return to the Lido Rooftop Cinema in Hawthorn. Perched atop the eight-screen picture house overlooking Glenferrie Road, the outdoor screen will light up from next week with a selection of new release movies in the open air. The Lido on the Roof season kicks off on Thursday, October 27, with a screening of contemporary western Hell or High Water complete with western-themed party. Bring your boots, your bolo ties and your ten gallon hats, and knock back bourbon cocktails on sale at the bar. It's one of a number of special events on the Lido Rooftop program, which also includes a Halloween screening of Rob Zombie's 31, a midnight showing of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and a throwback screening of 1992's Death Becomes Her presented by Taste of Streep. Other titles to make the journey skyward include Marvel movie Doctor Strange, ensemble comedy Office Christmas Party and Mel Gibson's new WWII movie Hacksaw Ridge. The outdoor season will run until April 16.
The Melbourne International Comedy Festival is one of those truly democratic moments in our city's cultural calendar. While the Melbourne Festival always seems a little high-end, and Melbourne Music Week is just a bit too hip, MICF is a place for all — from bogans watching Dave Hughes to hipsters hanging out at the Festival Club waiting to catch the latest show you totally haven't even heard about yet. This year's lineup is a strange one. Big international names have been replaced by a cast of familiar regulars and there's a much larger focus on local talent. This is a welcome move for an industry that doesn't get much love over the rest of the year, but a devastating blow for those of us who are still waiting for the likes of Louis CK to come down under. Regardless, here are our picks of the litter. From the most innovative internationals to the stuff that downright defies classification. The Internationals David O'Doherty If you're not already in love with this guy, there may in fact be something wrong with you. This whimsical Irishman has been a fixture at MICF for the better part of the past decade, and this year finds himself as one of the most well-known names at the festival. His new show David O'Doherty Will Try To Fix Everything certainly sets the bar high for a man whose subject matter tends toward Guitar Hero, celebrities, and that sinking feeling you get when you send a text message to the person the text is about, but we still have faith in him. For a refresher course, check out the classics including 'FAQ for the DOD', 'My Beefs' and — in the interest of full disclosure — that time I fangirled all over him at last year's festival. David O'Doherty Will Try to Fix Everything, The Forum, April 27 - May 20, $28.50 - $39. Paul Foot You wouldn't think a comedian who bases his act around shire horses, cheese, and the etiquette of eating cake would find a big audience in Australia. But Paul Foot, one of Britain's quirkiest, and most loyally followed comedians, is on his way to MICF for his fourth consecutive year. Even if you haven't caught one of his shows before, you may have seen him on Never Mind the Buzzcocks — the quiet man in a futuristic space jacket out-weirding Noel Fielding of all people. Check out our interview with him to learn more. Words, The Hi-Fi, March 27 - April 20, $26.50- $35.50. Adrienne Truscott It's a longstanding qualm some people have with female comedians that they're always talking about their genitalia. I imagine those people would not enjoy this show. In her first time to the country, US comedian Adrienne Truscott is quite literally bearing all in a one-woman show about rape culture. Dressed only from the waist up, Truscott is taking aim at the likes of Daniel Tosh and his controversial comments of last year, and is dragging the art of the 'rape joke' to breaking point. After five-star reviews at the Edinburgh Fringe, this is no doubt going to be one the most-talked about shows of the festival (for better or worse). Asking For It: A One-Lady Rape About Comedy Starring her Pussy and Little Else!, Portland Hotel, March 27 - April 20, $26 - $35. The Aussie success stories Sam Simmons Most of us will be familiar with Sam Simmons' dulcet tones from his recurring work on Triple J — think Shitty Trivia and that time he took over the radio station for 24 hours and finished the shift by getting a tattoo of a goat on his behind. If you're not familiar with him, that small description pretty much sums it up. We're not sure whether his comedy is incredibly simple, or just incredible. And, after an appearance on Conan late last year, and a string of five-star reviews from every respected newspaper in both Australia and the UK, we're willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Death of a Sails-Man, The Famous Spiegeltent, March 27 - April 20, $24 - $32. Celia Pacquola Celia Pacquola is the best kind of comedian — the kind you can imagine being your best friend. She's neurotic but confident, a little awkward, and she likes to laugh at other people's small misfortunes. Basically, she's Australia's Jennifer Lawrence. After the early days of RAW Comedy and guest spots on Rove, Pacquola has since moved to the UK and become a regular on shows like the Buzzcocks and Russell Howard's Good News. Thankfully she still brings her work back home, so I may have another shot at befriending her. Let Me Know How It All Works Out, Melbourne Town Hall (Powder Room), March 27 - April 20, $25 - $30. The Newcomers Michael Hing This will be Michael Hing's third year at MICF, but it was last year's show, Occupy White People, that really got him some attention. Using relaxed and relatable storytelling instead of more aggressive tactics, Hing's comedy hinged on a shared disbelief of people's ignorance or stupidity. This year, he'll be taking aim at himself. Taking to the classic comic's default setting of self-deprecation, he'll be analysing the difficulties of lesson-learning at age 28. Bildungsroman at 28, The Forum (Pizza Room), March 27 - April 20, $15 - $25. Genevieve Fricker Sydney comedian Genevieve Fricker is one of those young dynamos who are easy to hate. She got into NIDA but decided she'd rather drop out and do comedy, she was a finalist in RAW, she's done a TEDxYouth talk, written a column for the Sydney Morning Herald, and been named as one of Time Out's '30 Under 30'. She's been busy. And, although her 2013 show Party Pooper was generally well-regarded at last year's MICF, she's still not a well-known name for us Melbournians. I have no idea why though — musical whimsy and dark humour are totally our thing. The Pineapple, The Duke of Wellington Hotel, March 27 - April 20, $10 - $20. James Acaster Okay, so James Acaster is obviously an international act, but he is a newcomer to Australia. Though relatively unknown to Aussies, Acaster has been nominated for the top award at the Edinburgh Fringe for the past couple of years and been touted as "one of the sharpest comic minds to have emerged in recent years" by The Guardian. He may not be the boldest comedian out there, but he is like a funny, nerdy version of Hugh Grant, so you should probably give him a chance. Lawnmower, Melbourne Town Hall (Cloak Room), March 27 - April 20, $25.50 - $33. The Strange Wolf Creek the Musical If Wolf Creek 2 had taken a bit of advice from these young comedians it probably would have done a whole lot better. Not for the sensitive or politically correct, this low-budget re-make of the terrifying 2005 thriller has been a huge hit in its earlier runs at both the Melbourne and Adelaide Fringe Festivals and I'm sure the crowds at MICF will be no less receptive. This musical, written by notable newcomers Demi Lardner and James McCann, is for anyone who sometimes cheers for the bad guy and laughs when the naive young tourist invariably trips over. No one's judging you here. Trades Hall Old Council Chambers, March 27 - April 20, $15 - $22. When We Were Idiots: A Comedy Walking Tour The greatest thing about MICF is that it takes over the city. Comedians are in your favourite bars, they're walking around the streets, they're getting all up in your personal space with handmade flyers. But this piece takes it to the extreme. After donning a high-vis vest and losing a few of your inhibitions, you'll be transported to the year 2114 and led around the CBD by your host, Xavier the Penguin. Not only will you see the mistakes made by those idiots in 2014, you'll discover a wealth of well-kept secrets about your city and get the much sought after opportunity to yell at strangers in the name of art. Meet at Burke and Wills Statue in City Square, March 28 - April 20, $10 - $20. Check out the MICF website for a full program and keep an eye on Concrete Playground for more coverage in the coming weeks.
The beloved Cameo Cinema will once again showcase some of the summer's most talked-about films on its magnificent outdoor movie screen under the stars. From November 29 right through summer, audiences will get the chance to nestle down in deckchairs and beanbags, with craft beer, homemade choc-tops and freshly popped popcorn in hand. If that's not worth the drive out to Belgrave, then we just don't know what is. The Cameo Outdoor Cinema summer program has us pretty excited — screenings have only been announced up until January, with February to April titles set to be revealed at a later date. The season includes big releases like the new live-action version of The Lion King, Margot Robbie and Saoirse Ronan in Mary Queen of Scots, The Frontrunner, Yorgos Lanthimos' surreal new one The Favourite and DC Comics' Aquaman. There is plenty for families, with Emily Blunt taking the screen in Mary Poppins Returns, the new How to Train Your Dragon and pre-Christmas screenings of The Grinch and The Nightmare Before Christmas. And for those after a little retro fun, Labyrinth, Die Hard, The Lion King and Matilda are also on the bill. It doesn't hurt that the Cameo concessions are a cut above what you'll find at your local shopping centre multiplex. They've got craft beer and boutique wines, edamame, and lollies from The Sassafras Sweet Co., to name but a few. Alternatively, you can bring a picnic of your own — this is one cinema where you won't have ushers pestering you about bringing in outside food.
That amplified rant at the next table over: bunch of loud jerks or theatre performance? In a bold attempt to blur the lines between reality and fiction, a series of short plays will be performed in Eeny Meeny cafe in Frankston as part of the Anywhere Theatre Festival. Running August 28-31, To Be Determined is a collection of four short plays written by award-winning playwright Alex Broun and directed by Jessica Moody. The plays all focus on young people and the consequences of relationships, as audience members receive an almost voyeuristic experience in overhearing the actors' louder-than-usual private cafe conversations. Audience members are invited to take a seat in the cafe, without initially being aware of who the actors are and who else is part of the crowd. The ticket price includes a platter of savoury food from the menu, with full bar service and hot drinks available throughout the performance. Yes, you may be watching experimental theatre, but you can’t forget the cafe latte that goes with it. Of her choice of setting, Moody explains, "The intimacy of the cafe performance enables the audience to overhear the conversations by young people, providing insight to the labyrinth of youth, while undergoing the Melbourne tradition of keeping company over coffee." The cast includes Melbourne actress and cabaret artist Ilana Charnelle Gelbart, film critic Tom Heath and Lindsay Templeton, who will also be performing in the Melbourne Fringe Festival later this year. Started in Brisbane in 2011, The Anywhere Theatre Festival is coming to Frankston for the first time from August 22 to September 6. The festival celebrates live performance happening anywhere but a traditional theatre, including a moving vehicle, a bike shop, a skate park, McClelland Sculpture Park, an indoor rock climbing centre and out in the street. For tickets and more information, see the Anywhere Theatre Festival website.
What a fantastic idea for a movie. Captured hitman Darius Kincaid (Samuel L Jackson) agrees to testify against alleged war criminal Vladislav Dukhovich (Gary Oldman), but in order to keep Kincaid alive a compromised Interpol must call upon the assistance of disgraced bodyguard Michael Bryce (Ryan Reynolds), whose past missions were consistently imperilled thanks to the very killer he's now tasked with protecting. It's a terrific concept, an amazing cast and, unfortunately, a spectacularly disappointing film. The odd-couple buddy action-comedy format has given us some great films over the years, including several featuring Sam Jackson himself. The mid-90s classics Die Hard With A Vengeance and The Long Kiss Goodnight saw the star paired with perfect yings to his yang. First it was Bruce Willis' no nonsense NYPD cop John McClane, and then Geena Davis' homemaker-cum-assassin Charly Baltimore. Both flicks offered that perfect blend of high personal stakes, high-octane action and high quality dialogue that, when mixed together, added rare complexities to the genre's traditionally two-dimensional character archetypes, and delivered sequences that could make you laugh, wince and grip your armrests until your knuckles turned white. In The Hitman's Bodyguard, by contrast, the overwhelming feeling is that while writer Tom O'Connor understood all the ingredients necessary to make an entertaining blockbuster, he failed to appreciate the subtleties of how to best combine them. And the ingredients really are all there. The film's premise is tailor made to deliver conflict between its leads (to say nothing of the non-stop threats from the villain's henchmen). Yet everything about their relationship feels forced. Ryan's by the books persona sits uncomfortably with the actor's natural sarcastic schtick, while Jackson's foul-mouthed tirades lack both the venom and the wit to carry any real force. What follows features an awful lot of shouting, none of which ever feels like it really matters. Pair that with a truly staggering degree of nonchalance during every fight scene, and The Hitman's Bodyguard ends up a movie robbed of any sustained drama or tension. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F4Afusxc2SM
The folks over at Gelato Messina know how to whip lovers of all things sweet and frozen into a frenzy, and they've done it again, moving their Sydney degustation bar south to Melbourne — this time for the whole month of November. After a five-night stint in August, the Messina Creative Department will once again be setting up shop for 14 nights in a secret room at their Windsor store from November 4-23. An offshoot of the famed gelato parlour, the Messina Creative Department offers an epic seven-course degustation, complete with non-alcoholic drink pairing. Since opening next door to their OG Darlinghurst venue in April to rapturous response, the tiny eight-seater space has proved to be immensely popular, with places booking out almost as soon as they're released. So it's no surprise that their first visit to Melbourne was met with a massive response; Melburnians booked out those $130-per-head spots at the ice cream sorcery table in record time. This time, they'll be here for 14 nights all-up, with three sittings available each night, at 4.30pm, 6.30pm and 8.30pm on Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights. So there's a much higher chance you'll actually be able to nab a seat this time. And judging by their previous creations, you'll want to. Their Sydney dessert dinners have seen the likes of garlic gelato, a sugar egg filled with delights and an amazing matcha and pistachio cake concoction. One of their recent offerings included a lemon-like globe filled with liquorice gelato, yuzu curd and olive oil pastry accompanied by a muscatel grape, dill and black pepper oil cold pressed juice. It's dessert meets art meets one helluva tastebud adventure. To nab a seat, head to the Messina Creative Department page. We suggest booking stat.
UPDATE, May 20, 2022: Candyman is available to stream via Prime Video, Google Play, YouTube Movies and iTunes. Who can take tomorrow and dip it in a dream? 'The Candy Man' can, or so the suitably sugary earworm of a song has crooned since 1971. What scratches at the past, carves open its nightmares and sends them slicing into the present? That'd be the latest Candyman film, a powerful work of clear passion and palpable anger that's crafted with tense, needling thrills and exquisite vision. Echoing Sammy Davis Jr's version of the tune that virtually shares its name across its opening frames, this new dalliance with the titular hook-handed villain both revives the slasher franchise that gave 90s and 00s teen sleepovers an extra tremor — if you didn't stare into the mirror and utter the movie's moniker five times, were you really at a slumber party? — and wrestles vehemently and determinedly with the historic horrors that've long befallen Black Americans. It'll come as zero surprise that Jordan Peele produces and co-penned the screenplay with writer/director Nia DaCosta (Little Woods) and writer/producer Win Rosenfeld (The Twilight Zone). Candyman slides so silkily into Peele's thematic oeuvre alongside Get Out and Us, plus Peele-produced TV series Hunters and Lovecraft Country, that his fingerprints are inescapable. But it's rising star DaCosta who delivers a strikingly alluring, piercingly savage and instantly memorable picture. Alongside bloody altercations and lashings of body horror, razor blade-spiked candy makes multiple appearances, and her film is equally as sharp and enticing. In a preface that expands the Candyman mythology — and savvily shows how the movie has everyday realities firmly on its mind — that contaminated confectionery is thrust to the fore. In 1977, in the Cabrini-Green housing estate where the series has always loitered, Sherman Fields (Michael Hargrove, Chicago PD) is suspected of handing out the laced lollies to neighbourhood kids. Sent to do laundry in the basement, pre-teen Billy (Rodney L Jones III, Fargo) soon comes face-to-face with the man everyone fears; however, after the boy screams and the police arrive, he witnesses something even more frightening. Jumping to the present (albeit absent any signs of the pandemic given Candyman was initially slated to release in mid-2020), Cabrini-Green is now Chicago's current poster child for gentrification. It's where artist Anthony McCoy (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, Watchmen) and curator Brianna Cartwright (Teyonah Parris, WandaVision) have just bought an expansive apartment, in fact. They're unaware of the area's background, until Brianna's brother Troy (Nathan Stewart-Jarrett, Generation) and his partner Grady (Kyle Kaminsky, DriverX) start filling them in on the legend that's long been whispered across the local streets — and, struggling to come up with ideas for a new show, Anthony quickly clasps onto all things Candyman for his next big project. The feeling that springs when you discover that something isn't what it seems, and that its murkiness run so deep that it's devastatingly inescapable? That's the sensation that Anthony experiences as he plunges down the rabbit hole of learning everything he can about Candyman. Laundromat owner William Burke (Colman Domingo, Ma Rainey's Black Bottom) helps fill some gaps, and the events of the original 1992 film also guide the artist's research — with all that backstory conveyed via seductively gothic shadow puppetry — but fans with strong memories of the initial movie will already understand why Anthony is so thoroughly consumed. DaCosta also builds towards his jittery and obsessed mental state stylistically from the get-go. Urgency seethes through the feature's fidgety, nervy score, with composer Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe (aka Lichens, a musician with credits on It Comes at Night and Mother!) turning restlessness and anxiousness into jostling notes. In Candyman's stunningly vivid imagery, as lensed by Happiest Season and An American Pickle cinematographer John Guleserian, every visual choice further solidifies the feverishly unsettling mood. Shots involving mirrors stand out, aptly, but bold framing decisions, careening camerawork through hallways, and clever use of placement, angles, and zooming in and out all prove expertly calibrated. Again and again, DaCosta gives cinematic flesh to Anthony's emotional and mental states. She apes his inner turmoil in her external flourishes; so much of Candyman is about reflections, given that's where its eponymous boogeyman arises, after all. That notion also shimmers across the film's heftier layers and heaving social critique, as it muses on the cycle of violence against people of colour that keeps being mirrored in generation after generation — upping the ante from the flick that started it all. Back then, the franchise's fearsome force was 19th-century artist Daniel Robitaille (Tony Todd, The Flash), who was brutally attacked and murdered for loving a white woman. His hand was severed, and he was smeared with honey that attracted bees to dispense fatal stings. Now, he's not the only ghostly victim of such ghastly racial injustice. This fourth instalment in the saga, following terrible initial sequels in 1995 and 1995, isn't subtle about the picture it's painting; however, it is intense, ardent and shrewd at almost every moment. And, while it sometimes tasks characters with too overtly making blatant statements (a critic's dismissiveness of Anthony's latest creations is just too neatly scripted, for instance), Candyman usually finds the right balance, stressing but rarely overcooking its message. That its central figure's new artwork is called Say My Name provides one such example; it's obvious, in both its links to uttering Candyman's moniker and to the #SayHerName movement that raises awareness for black women subjected to violence, but it's also wounding. From Abdul-Mateen II leading the show, to stellar supporting work by Parris, Domingo and Todd, casting is another of DaCosta's painstakingly perfect touches. In The Get Down, Aquaman and The Trial of the Chicago 7 — and, of course, in Watchmen — Abdul-Mateen II has already shown that he knows how to make his presence felt, and Candyman wouldn't burn as searingly or buzz as stingingly without his performance. He's front and centre in a movie that excavates, contemplates and ravages the past, rather than tries to simply construct something new from its ashes. Helping the film cut its own path while remaining fully aware that it'll always swarm into its cult-favourite predecessor's hive, he never merely plays the always-sympathetic and dutifully heroic protagonist, either. Nor is Anthony just an emblem of reckoning with prejudice and fighting back, even in a feature that adores its symbolism. Indeed, his name is worth saying multiple times, as is DaCosta's — en route to her next gig directing Marvel Cinematic Universe project The Marvels — and this haunting and entrancing movie's moniker as well.
When Beauty and the Beast typically graces the screen, it doesn't involve a rose-haired singer decked out in a matching flowing dress while singing heart-melting tunes atop a floating skywhale mounted with speakers. It doesn't dance into the metaverse, either. Anime-meets-Patricia Piccinini-meets-cyberspace in Belle, and previous filmed versions of the famed French fairytale must now wish that they could've been so inventive. Disney's animated and live-action duo, aka the 1991 musical hit that's been a guest of childhood viewing ever since and its 2017 Emma Watson-starring remake, didn't even fantasise about dreaming about being so imaginative — but Japanese writer/director Mamoru Hosoda also eagerly takes their lead. His movie about a long-locked social-media princess with a heart of gold and a hulking creature decried by the masses based on appearances is firmly a film for now, but it's also a tale as old as time and one unafraid to build upon the Mouse House's iterations. At first, there is no Belle. Instead, Hosoda's feature has rural high-schooler Suzu (debutant Kaho Nakamura) call her avatar Bell because that's what her name means in Japanese. That online character lives in a virtual-reality world that uses body-sharing technology to base its figures on the real-life people behind them, but Suzu is shy and accustomed to being ignored by her classmates — other than her only pal Hiroka (Lilas Ikuta of music duo Yoasobi) — so she also uploads a photo of the far-more-popular Ruka (Tina Tamashiro, Hell Girl). The social-media platform's biometrics still seize upon Suzu's own melodic singing voice, however. And so, in a space that opines in its slogan that "you can't start over in reality, but you can start over in U", she croons. Quickly, she amasses an audience among the service's five-billion users, but then one of her performances is interrupted by the brooding Dragon (Takeru Satoh, the Rurouni Kenshin films), and her fans then point digital pitchforks in his direction. Those legions of interested online parties don't simplistically offer unwavering support, though. Among Belle's many observations on digital life, the fact that living lives on the internet is a double-edged sword — wielding both opportunities to connect and excuses to unleash vitriol, the latter in particular when compared to the physical experience — more than earns its attention. That said, all those devotees of Suzu's singing do rechristen her avatar as Belle, and she starts living up to that fairytale moniker by becoming fascinated with the movie's Beast equivalent. He's mysterious to the point that no one in U or IRL has been able to discern who he really is, but the platform's self-appointed pseudo-police force is desperately trying. Suzu is also mortified about the possibility of anyone discovering that she's Belle, although she's drawn to Dragon because she can sense his pain. Hosoda has repeatedly proven an inspired filmmaker visually — one just as creative with his stories and storytelling alike, too — and Belle is no exception on his resume. After the likes of The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, Summer Wars, Wolf Children and Mirai, he's in especially dazzling form in a movie that wields its images in two distinctive modes. In U, Belle is an epic onslaught for the eyes, its animation lively, busy and hyper-real in a way that cannily mirrors the feeling of wading through always-on online realms. This is where that whale swims through the air, concerts are held in what appears to be a hollow planet and Disney-style castles turn gothic. When it's in Suzu's reality, the film opts for naturalistic tones in a look that notices the everyday beauty in the flesh-and-blood world, even amid daily routines in fading small towns filled with average teens and their families. Hosoda revels in the contrast between the two, in fact, because that clash constantly sits at the film's core. A wealth of juxtapositions echo through Belle, so much so that Hosoda may as well paint with them as he does with his mix of hand-drawn animation and pixels. Collisions between the virtual and actual, genuine connection and online ease, perceptions and truth, anonymous freedom and reality's trappings, being anyone and accepting yourself, and happiness and trauma all bounce through the movie — and never, befitting its vibrant visuals, in a black-and-white fashion. Indeed, while the film's top-level insights into the solace we seek online, the faux coat of armour it affords and the horrors it can also unleash don't reveal anything new, Belle is both deeply felt and disarmingly attuned to tiny details. Those two traits apply in its piercing emotions and background minutiae, and also in bigger strokes such as in Suzu's and Dragon's backstories. She suffered a great loss when she was younger, and the grief it still causes shapes everything about her every move in devastatingly astute ways, for instance. Some other pitch-perfect bits and pieces: the chorus of text clouds, incessantly bubbling up on computer and phone screens, that the feature uses for both worshipping and cruel online chatter; the scars Dragon sports, as imitated in IRL tattoos by his aficionados, but also emblematic of the motives driving him; and repeated vistas as Suzu wanders through Kōchi Prefecture, where she lives, and her surroundings don't physically change but her feeling within them shifts depending on what else is colouring her life. That's the level of intricacy that Hosoda is working with as he also spins a coming-of-age tale complete with teen angst and schoolyard gossip — the offline parallel to digital witch-hunts — over Suzu's long-running friendship with now-class hunk Shinobu (Ryô Narita, Remain in Twilight), and doesn't stop using Belle's bangers to convey a world of emotion. Studio Chizu, which Hosoda co-founded with producer Yuichiro Saito in 2011, isn't yet a household name as fellow Japanese animation house Studio Ghibli is — but as it keeps growing with each of the director's releases, it really should be. Belle deserves to be the new go-to Beauty and the Beast adaptation, too, although three decades of Disney domination means that it'll likely never supplant the Mouse House's versions. Hosoda might find that apt, however, because Belle sings loudest about being brave enough to know and embrace who you truly are in an existence where it's now ridiculously easy to pretend you're someone or something else. And while it mightn't seem like it'd need courage to create this lush, grand, generous and captivating film — and gorgeous as well — but bold, insightful and transfixing takes on stories as old as rhyme just don't come around that often. Top image: Studio Chizu.
Gone are the days of walking around an uninspiring food court on your lunch break deciding what to eat. Now, CBD workers have Ella. Located on the corner of Elizabeth and La Trobe streets, the sleek new food precinct opened its doors in May. In it, you'll find some of the cities most-loved eateries tucked away in the laneway setting. Here, you can find Korean-style fried chicken, Nepalese dumplings, Chinese skewered meats and Israeli feasts. It's a veritable melting pot of cuisines. And it's not done yet, either. The bustling food precinct is welcoming more even vendors to the family in the upcoming months. To help make your lunchtime (or post-work snack time) decision a little easier, here are our top picks for a guaranteed good feed at Ella. [caption id="attachment_738319" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Julia Sansone[/caption] LOMAH Described as fast food for slow living, Lomah works exclusively with organic suppliers to offer Israeli eats with a modern spin. Think falafel pitas ($12) and delicious trays of meats ($16), eggplant ($14) and hummus to feast on — while knowing the produce you're eating has come straight from the farm. With a selection of beers, wine and kombucha at the bar, this new spot by young gun chef Charlie Carrington (of South Yarra's hatted Atlas Dining) is the perfect destination for a post-work (or uni class) meal. Open: 10am–10pm What to order: Shaved lamb tray (with grilled vegetables, couscous salad, tabouli, hummus and more) [caption id="attachment_738275" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Julia Sansone[/caption] PICK-A-STICK If you're passing through Ella and need a quick fix before the train ride home, this Beijing-style eatery has got you sorted. The hole-in-the-wall is serving what's known as shao kao, an array of meats, seafood and vegetables skewered onto sticks. Here, these skewers ($2.80 each) are cooked to order (grilled or deep fried) and seasoned with a tastebud-tingling spice mix. Order a side of Crazy Potato Chips to go with it for a great snack on the go. Open: 10am–10pm What to order: Skewers and Crazy Potato Chips [caption id="attachment_738284" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Julia Sansone[/caption] CHILLI EVEREST Chilli Everest is serving up delicious Nepalese feasts. It has everything from handmade Nepalese dumplings (momos, $11.90) and lentil pizzas ($12.95) to rich curries on the menu. If you're hungry order the Thakali Khana Set ($14.95), it comes with rice, daal, pickles, papadum and curry in your choice of veg, chicken or goat — a Nepalese speciality. Short on time? Try a chatpat ($8.95): a popular snack among Nepalese locals, which combines puffed rice, ground spices and tangy masala. Open: 11.30am–9.30pm What to order: Momos and Thakali Khana Set [caption id="attachment_738273" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Julia Sansone[/caption] SON IN LAW (THE PAD) While the Collingwood establishment is known for colourful creations like fairy floss drinks and bao almost too cute to eat, Son In Law's new CBD sister specialises in the much-loved pad thai. You start with signature noodle dish (for $9.90), choose the spice level (mild to very hot) and can add on your favourite protein — tiger prawns ($4), pork belly ($5), soft shell crab ($4). If you'd like to make it even fancier, you can mix up the noodles with options like riceberry and butterfly pea. Elsewhere on the menu, you'll find gua bao ($6.50 or three for $17) — they're fluffy and packed with the likes of roasted duck, crispy pork belly or crispy black sesame tofu. Open: 10am–1opm What to order: Pad thai [caption id="attachment_738272" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Julia Sansone[/caption] SAM SAM Korean-style fried chicken and cold beer continues to be a hot combination with Sam Sam bringing its flavour-packed menu of the two favourites to the Ella party. Order a tray of boneless chicken ($18–33) glazed in one of six sauces — including sweet chilli, snowing cheese and lemon mayonnaise — or a bibimbap bowl ($12.80) loaded with rice, kimchi and veggies for vitamin-packed lunch. The Sam Sam Chicken Burger ($12.80) loaded with a crispy schnitzel, spicy mayo and crispy red cabbage is a sure-fire hit for the extra hungry. Open: 10am–10pm What to eat: Sam Sam chicken burger REVERIE A dessert bar and cafe by acclaimed French pastry chef Pierrick Boyer, Reverie is open for breakfast, lunch and afternoon pick-me-ups seven days a week. On the savoury front, it has smashed avo ($16.50), confit duck toastie ($17.50) and wagyu katsu burgers ($19.50). In terms of sweets, you'll find all of Boyer's signature cakes, such as the Charlotte Tiffany (filled with dark chocolate an jelly jam) and Hazelnut Soft & Crunchy (with hazelnut dacquoise, praline and chocolate chantilly). Open: Monday–Friday 8am–6pm and Saturday–Sunday 10am–4pm What to order: Hazelnut Soft & Crunchy [caption id="attachment_738290" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Blackhearts and Sparrow[/caption] STAY TUNED... Opening this spring is Byrdi, a much-anticipated cocktail bar run by famed bartender Luke Whearty (of Singapore's award-winning Operation Dagger). Expect creations like a fermented, fortified smoked pear and wattleseed negroni to feature on the menu. In terms of booze-slinging establishments, it'll join the already open independent wine, beer and cider store Blackhearts and Sparrows. Both a new hospitality and entertainment centre for the city, Ella will also be bringing Melbourne's two other favourite activities to the table: music and art. Live music will pop-up several times a week — showcasing both emerging and established artists — and there'll be regularly changing art spaces and installations. A feast for all the senses. Ella is now open at the corner of Elizabeth and La Trobe streets. Opening hours are 10am–10pm daily. To check individual restaurant's opening hours, head to the website. Images: Julia Sansone
Science fiction has never been afraid of unfurling its futuristic visions on the third rock from the sun, but the resulting films have rarely been as earthy as The Creator. Set from 2065 onwards, after the fiery destruction of Los Angeles that could've come straight out of Terminator 2: Judgment Day, this tale of humanity battling artificial intelligence is visibly awash with technology that doesn't currently exist — and yet the latest movie from Monsters, Godzilla and Rogue One: A Star Wars Story director Gareth Edwards couldn't look or feel more authentic and grounded. That isn't a minor feat. And, it doesn't simply stem from making a sci-fi flick with heart, which isn't a new move. Don't underestimate the epic yet intimate impact of seeing bold imaginings of what may come that have been lovingly and stunningly integrated with the planet's inherent splendour, engrained in everyday lives, and meticulously ensure that the line between what the camera can capture and special effects can create can't be spotted; The Creator hasn't. So, as undercover military operative Joshua (John David Washington, Amsterdam) is tasked with saving the world — that go-to science-fiction setup — robots walk and talk, spaceships hover, and everything from cars to guns are patently dissimilar to the planet's present state. Flesh-and-blood people aren't the only characters with emotional journeys and stakes, either, with AI everywhere. Even if The Creator didn't tell its viewers so, there's zero doubting that its events aren't taking place in the here and now. Edwards and cinematographers Greig Fraser (The Batman) and Oren Soffer (Fixation) know how to make this flight of fancy both appear and seem tangible, though. Indeed, The Creator earns a term that doesn't often come sci-fi's way when it comes to aesthetics: naturalistic. Also don't underestimate how gloriously and immersively that the film's striking and sprawling southeast Asian shooting locations not only gleam, but anchor the story. Edwards and his team, including production designer James Clyne (another Star Wars alum), have given their film human skin, then, amid all the tech workings. That's one of the big leaps forward in Edwards' screenplay with his Rogue One scribe Chris Weitz, too, with The Creator delivering its main examples of AI in humanoid form. These droids can easily be mistaken for something less cybernetic if the whirling circles where ears would normally be are covered, plus their exposed metal necks and backs of their heads as well. As Joshua discovers, they're also easy to connect with. The feature itself earns that same description — as it splashes two-plus hours of spectacular sights across the screen, this is big-thinking and big-feeling science fiction not just about where technology might lead, what that means for humans and how the species could spark such a situation, but also about empathy. Humans and AI are long past co-existing in happy harmony when The Creator initially drops into Joshua's life, but he's a glowing expectant dad enjoying domestic bliss with his wife Maya (Gemma Chan, Don't Worry Darling) anyway. They're in New Asia, the artificial intelligence-sympathising part of the world after Los Angeles went nuclear, and she considers machines her family. The catch: his special forces gig, then a raid with a tragic outcome. Five years later, Joshua is back stateside, grief-stricken and on clean-up duties when he's brought back in by General Andrews (Ralph Ineson, The Northman) and Colonel Howell (Allison Janney, To Leslie). On this latest mission, eradicating AI's enigmatic mastermind Nimrata — and therefore wiping out AI at the same time — is still the aim, just made more urgent by news of a war-ending weapon that's capable of annihilating humanity's beam-wielding and village-bombing winged NOMAD vessel. But Joshua doesn't expect to meet android child Alphie (newcomer Madeleine Yuna Voyles) while going about the job. As his resume attests, Edwards is head over heels for his chosen genre. His pre-Monsters gigs also span visual effects, which makes The Creator's seamless appearance hardly surprising. In fact, on his feature debut — a flick that's one of the great first films — he was also the movie's director of photography and production designer, and took care of the VFX, doing the latter at home in his bedroom. Back away from franchise land after his Godzilla and Star Wars stints, he's at his best making original sci-fi again, this time with a picture that grapples deeply with the big existence-changing development of our time. The Creator eagerly stands out there as well, clutching onto a message of acceptance in its central conflict. Shining with ambition, it's also a rarity with such an utter (and welcome) lack of past chapters, books, flicks, TV shows and any form of pre-existing intellectual property behind it, although it does worship a swathe of inspirations. There's a difference between gleaning that a filmmaker watched and adored Blade Runner, District 9, Aliens and Dune, though — plus Apocalypse Now, Akira, The Matrix, Interstellar, Laputa, Castle in the Sky and, yes, Star Wars — and sitting through a movie that just brazenly ticks through element after element from other sources. The Creator never falls into the second category, instead playing like it's its own machine rather than a Frankenstein's droid built from other tech's parts. The narrative, the world-building, the visuals (even with Rogue One's Fraser earning an Academy Award for Denis Villeneuve's Dune: Part One), the heartfelt mood, the down-to-earth and old-school vibe, the sound (with a score by fellow Dune: Part One Oscar-winner Hans Zimmer, and also the exceptional use of Radiohead's 'Everything in its Right Place'), the ideas: they all ensure that this isn't cobbled together from spare components. So do the excellent performances by Washington in Tenet mode and first-timer Voyles, who convey a poignant rapport while selling their individual and shared yearnings. Also beyond a doubt: that AI couldn't have made this movie (a timely thought given that it arrives to tackle the topic as Hollywood's strikes have been raging partly due to that very possibility). The Creator feels like it has fingerprints everywhere. As its magnificent visual effects glisten so convincingly that they don't resemble VFX at all even though they clearly are, the film looks carefully and affectionately crafted. When its dialogue is a touch obvious and Joshua's path a tad predicable, that still smacks of relatable and inescapable human nature. And, as it tensely and thrillingly — weightily, too — ponders war, hate, fear, military control, the fast jump to divide, what technology can destroy and give alike, and who sits on which side of the humans-versus-AI clash, The Creator happily gets thorny. Edwards seems sincerely fascinated with every thing, person, gadget, backdrop, sight, sound, notion, theme and musing he packs inside his film. Matching that response couldn't be a more instinctive reaction.
With Winter's Bone, Debra Granik directed one of the undoubted film highlights of 2010. More than that, she directed the haunting drama to four Oscar nominations, earned herself a nod for Best Adapted Screenplay, and helped put Jennifer Lawrence on the path to superstardom. And yet, it still took eight years for the masterly filmmaker to helm her next fictional feature — eight years where her empathetic perspective could've been brightening up cinemas. Blame the difficulties faced by female directors, projects falling by the wayside or the vagaries of fate; whichever you choose, the big screen has sorely missed her work. It's not just that Granik makes movies about American life on the margins, as her 2014 documentary Stray Dog also illustrates. What sets her films apart is her probing yet compassionate approach, not only spinning stories about struggling folks striving to get by, but ensuring that her pictures feel humane and authentic above all else. They're traits that are much more rare in today's blockbuster-heavy cinema realm than they really should be, and they help Granik's gentle, thoughtful work soar. While that was evident in Winter's Bone, it's even more apparent in Leave No Trace, an equally tender and devastating father-and-daughter effort that's handled with supreme sensitivity, shot with unwavering kindness and, as a result, proves one of the best movies of this year. Adapted by Granik and her Winter's Bone co-scribe Anne Rosellini from Peter Rock's novel My Abandonment, Leave No Trace takes its title from what might as well be military veteran Will (Ben Foster) and teenager Tom's (Thomasin Harcourt McKenzie) unspoken motto. Living well off the grid in an Oregon forest, their entire existence relies upon not being spotted. And, as long as they're able to enjoy their lives in the manner that they prefer, they're happy hiding out and keeping things simple. The local authorities soon have other plans, busting up their modest camp, arresting Will and forcing the pair to re-integrate into society. To her own surprise, Tom warms to more traditional confines, but her PTSD-afflicted dad can only stomach mod cons and social worker check-ups for so long. Where Winter's Bone coiled a coming-of-age tale around a bleak mystery, Leave No Trace steeps its story in lighter but no less meaningful waters. Both feature young women learning to survive in fraught circumstances; however, even given the films' thematic similarities, Granik's latest is its own textured, complicated and delicate creation. At the movie's core sits a familiar battle that's fleshed out in an intimate and heartbreaking fashion — the choice between following in the footsteps of someone you adore, or following your own wisdom even if it'll completely change your life forever. This is a film about breaking free and forging a new path on many levels (from trauma, from the prevailing concept of normality, from the structures enforced by a broken country and from the parent-child bond), and they're all expertly and intelligently intertwined. As also seems to be Granik's remit across her small oeuvre to date, Leave No Trace overflows with everyday detail. Thanks to the director's patient gaze, no moment of Will and Tom's lives is too small or insignificant. That's never more evident than when the movie hones its focus on revelatory New Zealander McKenzie, who demonstrates not only Granik's keen eye for observation, but for talent. Acting against the similarly exceptional Foster (who's in career-best form), the young star's seemingly effortless naturalism radiates from the screen, with a cocktail of potent emotions always emanating from her pores. Indeed, while Leave No Trace is visually sumptuous with its lush wilderness-set visuals, it's downright sublime when it's simply watching its two leads quietly encapsulate the effects of America's increasingly fractured society. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SVkX1qAyMrY
You're juggling a lot right now: morning video calls with the office, Zoom parties with your mates, evening Skypes with the parents to make sure they're following the new self-isolation rules. It's a lot. And you'd be forgiven for wanting someone else to take the lead on planning breakfasts, lunches and dinners instead of diving into another packet of instant noodles as you screen a virtual yoga class from the sofa. Well, that someone could be food delivery service Soulara. Why reach for the frozen bread when you could be eating choc hazelnut and chia seed pudding for brekkie, mexican red beans and rice for lunch, and coconut lentil soup for dinner? All without falling off the wagon on your health and fitness goals for 2020. Soulara will bring you a week's worth of plant-based meals, all created by chefs and nutritionists, packed with vital nutrients. Gluten free? There are options for you too, as well as for your soy-free housemates. All the meals are packed fresh, not frozen, and you don't have to sign for delivery or worry about the extra packaging waste (the box is recyclable). It's also got bliss balls, kombucha and cold-pressed juice packs that you can tack onto your order, avoiding the need to nip to the shops when you're feeling peckish. Plus, if you opt for 12 meals a week (its most popular subscription), your meals work out at $9.95 a feed. Picky? You get to choose your meals from the planner each fortnight and no one will judge when you opt for the jungle curry every single time. As all the meals are pre-portioned and ready-to-eat, you don't need to plan in any cooking time either, which gives you more downtime for when you need it most. Soulara delivers across Australia. For more details of its Sydney and Melbourne delivery times, as well as meal planners, head here.
UPDATE, September 17, 2020: Crazy Rich Asians is available to stream via Google Play, YouTube Movies and iTunes. It's a throwaway joke in a film filled with smarter, funnier dialogue. Still, when Crazy Rich Asians compares its own plot to The Bachelor, the line sticks. The movie doesn't involve women competing for a man on television, thankfully. There's no cheesy host talking the audience through proceedings either, and the flick, while fictional, doesn't feel as fake and contrived as reality TV. But the big-screen adaptation of Kevin Kwan's best-selling novel does willingly, gleefully champion a world of indulgence — a world where romance has to shine twice as bright against the glittering trappings of wealth. And, just like The Bachelor, the film remains both fluffy and breezy and over-the-top and melodramatic at the same time. Of course, there's more than a little winking and nodding evident when Crazy Rich Asians connects its opulent, soap opera-like theatrics to a popular televised dating contest. Director John M. Chu (Now You See Me 2) and his screenwriters Peter Chiarelli (The Proposal) and Adele Lim (TV's Dynasty) know exactly what they're doing, and they're not backing away from it. Combining a wealth of elements within its light and luxe confines, Crazy Rich Asians is many things, including extravagant, irreverent and entertaining. It's a rom-com about love and money, a comedy about class and culture clashes, and a modern-day fairytale about an ordinary girl falling for Singapore's equivalent of royalty — and, wholly in the service of its story, it refuses to dial down any of its excess. Indeed, there's a straightforward reason that the movie bathes in ultra-rich glitz and glamour to an almost ostentatious degree: it's giving audiences the same experience as the film's protagonist. One day, Rachel Chu (Constance Wu) is a New York economics professor from a working-class, single-parent household, and simply thinking about finally meeting her boyfriend Nick's (Henry Golding) parents. The next, she's flying first class to Asia, finding out that her beloved is well and truly loaded, and discovering the kind of life such a vast fortune can buy. Like falling down a rabbit hole, she's in unfamiliar, fantastical territory. Expecting to attend a low-key family dinner, she finds herself at a decadent blowout filled with folks wearing evening gowns. Heading to a bachelorette party for one of Nick's pals, she's helicoptered to a private resort. Even when she's just hanging out with her college buddy Peik Lin (Awkwafina), she's sitting in a gold-adorned mansion. What follows is a whirlwind introduction to the filthily, ridiculously rich, and it has consequences within the narrative. Rachel is understandably overwhelmed, Nick's mother Eleanor (Michelle Yeoh) is vocal about her disapproval, and Nick is caught in the middle. Accordingly, as Crazy Rich Asians tracks the chaos that ensues — and the battle between romance, finances and family — the film is devoted to plunging viewers into the lavish lifestyle at its centre in order to align them with its protagonist. Every filmmaking choice ramps up the indulgence, be it in the onslaught of colour, the lingering shots of sumptuous parties and homes, or the upbeat editing. Chu also uses his aesthetics to heighten the story's rampant fantasy, linking the movie not just with The Bachelor, but with fairytales like Cinderella. You can't make a film called Crazy Rich Asians without stressing every part of the title, after all. That doesn't just encompass the mania and the wealth, but also the pictures' dedication to representation. Among its many guises, the movie not only presents a rare and refreshing celebration of Asian culture in general, but puts stellar Asian talent front and centre on the cinema screen. Wu is spot-on as the relatable heroine, Yeoh is at her icy best, Ken Jeong and Awkwafina reliably steal scenes, and even Australian TV favourite Ronnie Chieng makes a brief appearance. The very existence of this cast really can't be downplayed — you have to go back to 1993's The Joy Luck Club and 2001's Memoirs of a Geisha to find other Hollywood films starring so many actors of Asian descent. Blend all of the above, and a few things happen. Much of Crazy Rich Asians glimmers with emotion, exuberance and cultural specificity, engagingly and enjoyably so. That said, some parts — its largely by-the-numbers narrative, and the fact that it presents rather than probes its excess-laden surroundings — also prove a little too neat and easy. The end result is a shiny piece of big-screen jewellery filled with gems, and while not every aspect sparkles as much as the next, the overall package still looks and works a treat. Or, to use a different analogy, the film is like the abundance of delicious-looking food that graces its frames: a huge, elaborate banquet that doesn't quite perfect every dish, but nonetheless satisfies the appetite — not to mention sating cravings for something with a bit more flavour than the usual fare. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=14ZHRBfpeNg
Melburnians, it's finally time to drop it like it's hot again — because Snoop Dogg is coming back to our fair city. For the first time since 2014, the rapper is hitting stages Down Under as part of this new 'I Wanna Thank Me' tour, which'll be playing Rod Laver Arena at 7pm on Saturday, March 4–Sunday, March 5. If this sounds familiar, that's because this tour was initially due to happen in 2022, only to be postponed. Now, Snoop Dogg has locked in the rescheduled dates, complete with an extra show in Melbourne. Clearly, fans of the musician/actor/cook book author/wrestling MC/wine brand owner will be breaking out the gin and juice. Snoop will also be inspiring hip hop aficionados to be the life of the party and, if you can remember his time as Snoop Doggy Dog and Snoop Lion across his career, to ask about his name as well. Yes, you can expect to hear singles such as 'What's My Name?', 'Gin and Juice', 'Drop It Like It's Hot' and 'Snoop's Upside Ya Head', as well as tracks from his last few albums — with his 17th record from 2019, I Wanna Thank Me, sharing its moniker with the tour. Since then, he's also dropped two more albums: From tha Streets 2 tha Suites in 2021 and BODR in 2022, with another, Missionary, also in the works.
The Melbourne Art Fair is setting up shop this year at the grand Royal Exhibition Centre in Carlton, and from August 14-17 it will be home to more than 300 artists' work, presented by leading Australian and Asia-Pacific galleries. Contemporary art lovers have the chance to view, interact with and purchase work from both Australian and international artists, and trust us, there's plenty to get through. While much of the artwork is for sale, you don’t need a fat chequebook to check out the best artistic offerings. Here’s our pick of what you should feast your eyes on during this year's fair. Pop-Up Restaurant Angry Penguin Speaking of firsts for MAF, food and art will delightfully collide with a pop-up restaurant opening during the festival, located in the exclusive Collectors Lounge. The Angry Penguin is a collaborative effort between The European chef Ian Curley and Bay Leaf Catering’s head chef Derek Boath. The name is in reference to the Australian modernist and literary artist movement in the 1940s, and the angry young men who were determined to shake up the establishment, including Arthur Boyd, Albert Tucker, Sydney Nolan and Joy Hester. If only we could have a rowdy dinner conversation with that lot! Fairgoers who like a little nosh with their cultural activities are encouraged to pre-book online, as tables will be limited. The Supermarket Made Entirely of Salt Ken and Julia Yonetani’s large-scale art installation is a full-sized recreation of a supermarket of items made entirely of white salt. The piece is a nod to increasing issues with salinity in Australia’s farmlands and is called The Last Suppermarket. Every item stocked on the supermarket’s shelves is for sale; price is determined by weight, and you’re welcome to take anything from a single ‘banana’ to a whole fruit bowl. In theory this sounds like a logistical nightmare, but in reality we can’t wait to see it for ourselves. Tram Takeovers Commuters are in for a few pleasant surprises, with pop-up performances coming to a tram near you all throughout Melbourne Art Week, which MAF is a part of, from August 11-17. Expect flash musical and comedic performances as part of the public program, with more details yet to be revealed as to which tram lines you need to redirect yourselves to sharpish. We’re interested to see how the artists will pry the passengers’ attention away from their iPhones, but we welcome anything that makes the daily commute a little more colourful. Other gems on the public program include Art After Hours and an installation at Aesop for those less interested poking around the Royal Exhibition Centre. The Alien Pope Yes, that's right, alien pope. Artist Luke Roberts will appear as his alter ego 'Pope Alice' to perform at the fair. A lover of costume and the subversive power of dress-ups, Roberts is also a practicing Raelian, believing we have been placed on earth by aliens. All of which makes his pope persona serious business. Roberts is part of a wide program of performance art taking place during Opening Night Vernissage, where more than 500 artists will be in attendance to get this fair off to a cracking start. We also recommend looking out for Anastasia Klose, whose surprise art work could prove lucrative for you. A Fair Within a Fair Jason Maling and Lara Thoms have spent a good deal of this year attending Expos and trade fairs, jumping from one industry or subculture to the next. For this year’s Melbourne Art Fair they are bringing their installation piece called Exposition, which is essentially a tongue-in-cheek fake mini trade fair that visitors can interact with. Stalls within the mini trade fair include a dog enthusiasts' stand, alternative healing and a tattoo artist. Exposition is part of MAF Edge, where for the first time in the fair’s history, contemporary performance art is included in the events. The Melbourne Art Fair is on from August 13-17 at the Royal Exhibition Building and all around Melbourne. See the event website for more information.
