There's a slight fuzz in the air on the East Coast. Twangy surf pop and singalong garage punk are teaming up in a predicted humdinger of a co-headlining tour — Brisbane charmers Major Leagues and Sydney's rascally trio Bloods have joined forces for one rambunctious escapade. Offering up gems from their Weird Season EP as well as snippets from their upcoming debut album, Major Leagues have had major deal signings and huge festival appearances on their plate over the last year. Bloods have their own reason to celebrate. Their latest single 'Want It' (to be officially launched on the tour) offers the sneakiest peek into their upcoming debut album, a hotly-anticipated LP set for release through brand new independent Sydney label Tiny Galaxy. Meandering into Shebeen on Thursday, July 3, the double team of fuzz, feedback and fun will throw down fast and furious sets one after the other. So gear up in your most easily toe-tappable, hair-thrashable threads and get a healthy dose of fuzz in your earholes, this one's going to be a right royal shindig. https://youtube.com/watch?v=_AZJ9B95sMQ
The NGV is bringing out the big guns — or should we say swords, with Bushido: Way of the Samurai. Featuring a kick-ass collection of Samurai battle armour and weapons as well as calligraphic scrolls, tea utensils and more seemingly domestic items, this new exhibition delves deep into the heart of Medieval and early-modern Japan. It explores the cultural and historical importance of the warriors, but also the men behind the mythologised armour. The Samurai were prominent representatives of Japan's military nobility and ethics from the 12th Century up until the end of the Edo period in 1868, and have remained an important staple in Japan's history and culture. Samurai virtues and ideas such as self control, respect, duty and courage continue to be celebrated in modern culture and constantly reappear in martial arts, visual and dramatic art. If you think you know enough about the Samurai culture because you watched that movie about that Samurai who did that thing and Tom Cruise was there then think again. This exhibition has you properly covered.
Still rubbing their eyes from a two-month-long European tour, Sydney post-rock outfit, sleepmakeswaves, are hoping to wake up their Aussie fans with a national tour. In celebration of their second album, Love of Cartography, the lyricless four-piece will bring their heavy riffage and delay pedals to nine different cities over this July and August with support from Breaking Orbit and Teal. After two years touring across the globe and supporting the likes of Karnivool, Dead Letter Circus and 65daysofstatic, sleepmakeswaves thought it was time to channel their new experiences into a new album. The humble lads turned to Pozible and their dedicated fan base to raise some funds (which they did) and then dutifully thanked them for their support, despite their self-confessed "weirdness and lack of vocals". Ahhh-dorable. The first taste of sleepmakeswaves’ newest music in two years — 'Something Like Avalanches' — was premiered on triple j last month and you’ll be able to hear more of their epic instrumental tunes when Love of Cartography is released in Australia on 4 July. Gives you just enough time to practice their lyrics— oh wait.
In space, no one can hear you scream. But the darkened aisles of the Astor Theatre are quite another matter. 35 years after changing the face of science fiction forever, the terrifying final journey of the star-freighter Nostromo will light up the screen once more, followed by a special Q&A with two of its ill-fated crew. Presented at The Astor on 35mm in its extended director's cut version, there will never be a better way to view Ridley Scott's masterpiece, a film that demands to be seen in a theatre. Only on the big screen can you fully appreciate the dark, twisting intricacies of the iconic set and creature design. And only as part of a rapt audience can you become immersed in the horror, as the monstrous alien Xenomorph first rears its ugly head. After the screening, actors Veronica Cartwright and Tom Skeritt, aka Lambert and Captain Dallas, will take to the stage to answer questions about their experience making the film. For more information and to book tickets, visit The Astor's website.
The NGV may be revelling in the old masters this month but, just down the road, ACCA is still flying that contemporary flag high. Douglas Gordon has been on the scene for decades now, but his work is still as innovative as ever. Perched at the intersection of pop culture and high art, Gordon is a Young British Artist with a love for film and photographic installation, and a whole load of art world swag to boot. Gordon's most famous for his 1993 work 24 Hour Psycho — an edited version of Alfred Hitchcock's classic slowed to a pace of 2 frames per second. He's also collaborated with Rufus Wainwright, won the coveted Turner Prize, and represented Scotland at the Venice Biennale. In this rare outing to Australia we see a selection of works from the artist's now well-established career. Some original, and some admittedly owing to Martin Scorsese. A walk through the sparse rooms at ACCA this month will be like stepping through the looking glass — expect a lot of manipulated images and one creepily young Robert De Niro.
For a few weeks this winter, Melbourne's Palace Balwyn Cinema, Palace Brighton Bay, Palace Westgarth and Palace Cinema Como will turn extra frosty — on their big screens, that is. Running from Thursday, July 11 through Wednesday, July 31, and marking the event's sixth year, the Volvo Scandinavian Film Festival returns with a suitably wintery showcase of cinema from Europe's coldest climes, featuring 21 films from Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Iceland and Finland. Whether you're keen on irreverent comedies, dark dramas or Nordic noir, they're all on the lineup. If you're a fan of Denmark's most popular film series or one of Sweden's hugely successful crime authors, they're on the program too. Sci-fi, rom-coms, character studies, award-winners, festival hits — the list goes on, because Scandinavian cinema is a diverse realm. The 2019 festival kicks off with laughs, as all good things should, thanks to Danish comedy Happy Ending. Next, it heads to Iceland with direct-from-Cannes drama A White, White Day — the latest film from Hlynur Palmason, the director of SFF 2018's Winter Brothers. Also on the bill: the Stellan Skarsgård-starring, Norwegian-made, Berlinale Silver Bear winner Out Stealing Horses; the spaceship-set futuristic Swedish flick Aniara; and, from Finland, the SXSW hit Aurora, about a party girl who befriends an Iranian refugee. Definite highlights also hail from the thriller domain, as Scandi-loving cinephiles would expect. If you saw the first three page-to-screen Department Q instalments at previous festivals, you can see how the series ends with The Purity of Vengeance, which is now the highest-grossing Danish film ever. For those who've read, re-read and watched everything Girl with the Dragon Tattoo-related, make a date with documentary Steig Larsson: The Man Who Played with Fire, which delves into the late author and journalist's archives. As an added bonus, it's screening alongside a retrospective of the original Swedish Millennium Trilogy films, starring Noomi Rapace. Images: Department Q; A White, White Day; Happy Ending; Out Stealing Horses; Sonja.
What's better than a sweet weekend treat? A whole marketplace filled with locally made baked goods. And that's exactly what's happening at the Baker's Exchange, which will see the city's top pastry, bread and cake maestros descend on three Melbourne locations for a series of tasty weekends this July. After a two-year hiatus, Hank Marvin Market's roving bake market returns to Melbourne this winter, hitting Moorabbin's Kingston City Hall on July 6 and 7, Woolstore + Co in North Melbourne on July 13 and 14, and Ripponlea Primary School on July 20 and 21. It's pulling together a freshly baked lineup featuring some of the city's best-loved local bakers, including 5 & Dime, Violet & Zaza, N'Cannoulou, Cobb Lane Bakery and Butter Mafia. Get ready to sink your teeth into innovative treats like The Hamptons Bakery's scrambled egg, porcini and truffle breakfast doughnut, and the oozy, raclette-filled roll from Swiss Made. Of course, you'll also find plenty of classic creations, from oven-fresh sourdough breads to gluten-free doughnuts and perfectly chewy cookies. There'll be face-painting and kids' fun for the littlies, while grown-ups can match their eats to fresh juices, Hallelujah Coffee and maybe even a glass or two of bubbly. Entry is $2, with proceeds going to charity. Baker's Exchange is open from 9am–1pm and heading to Kingston City Hall, 979–985 Nepean Highway, Moorabbin from July 6–7; Woolstore + Co, 64 Sutton Street, North Melbourne, from July 13–14; and Ripponlea Primary School, 25 Carrington Grove, St Kilda East, from July 20–21. Image: The Vegan Shack
More than once in Farming, Enitan stares into a mirror and loathes his reflection. Born in Britain to Nigerian parents, fostered out to a white working-class family and constantly taunted about his race, he even tries to scrub away his darker pigment while glaring daggers at himself. When that doesn't work, the boy (Zephan Amissah) cakes his skin in talcum powder, such is his desperation to see anything but his usual likeness looking back. By the time that Eni becomes a teenager (now played by Damson Idris), his self-hating gaze has solidified, and yet it has also taken on a different tone. As he peers forward, he shaves his head, buttons up his collared shirt and pops his suspenders over his shoulders, all to fit in with the local skinheads. Farming depicts Eni peering intently at a mirror again and again for a reason: no matter which cruel names are spat his way, the feature makes plain that it's his own opinion of himself that matters most. Sadly, he internalises the surrounding resentment and prejudice, so that's all that he can see in his own reflection. But, the fact that Farming even exists is proof that something changes. The film itself is a mirror — and in a more literal sense than most movies. Written and directed by Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, this picture relays the actor-turned-filmmaker's own childhood. Known as Enitan as a kid, he once tried to scratch off his own skin, then joined forces with the very thugs that made his life hell — and now, after a two-decade on-screen career that's seen him feature in everything from Oz, Lost and Game of Thrones to The Bourne Identity, Thor: The Dark World and Suicide Squad, he shares that story. In Farming, Akinnuoye-Agbaje's tale begins with the actor and director playing his own father, Femi — who, alongside his wife Tolu (Genevieve Nnaji), is tearfully handing over baby Enitan to Ingrid Carpenter (Kate Beckinsale). It's 1967, and the practice that gives the movie its moniker is common. Kids like Eni are left with white families while their birth parents study and find work, with couples such as Femi and Tolu hoping their children will get better opportunities in the process. As Farming steps through Eni's Essex-based youth, showing him weather threats from Ingrid and torment from everyone else around him, it demonstrates the impact of this decision — a hard choice made with love by the people who brought him into the world, and one with significant repercussions. Eni transforms from a smiling infant, to a shy kid happily lost in his own head, to a self-loathing outcast who believes that his only path forward is to embrace the hatred he keeps being made to wear like a second skin. In scenes such as the aforementioned soap and talcum powder incidents, it's clear that Farming is directed by an actor, as well as by someone with a personal stake in this bleak and challenging story. This is a highly physical and expressive film that often feels like memories transposed onto the screen — and frequently highlights strikingly framed images and visceral, palpable emotions over dialogue. Thankfully, that's a mode that suits the talented Idris, who takes on that most difficult of tasks: not only playing a real-life figure, but playing the teen-aged version of his director. Raw pain doesn't just burn in his eyes, but infects every move that he makes, whether Eni is lashing out at his self-centred foster mother, himself or the only person (Gugu Mbatha-Raw, in a one-note role as a kindly teacher) who sees past his skin colour. That said, Farming is also a forceful movie — building its confronting, compelling tale one horrific moment at a time, and hitting as bluntly as the blows directed Eni's way. As a boy, he may turn his skin a shade of grey, but the movie he's in only paints in black and white. Of course, that's how this experience clearly felt to Akinnuoye-Agbaje. There's nothing subtle about being told by your foster mother that you come from 'Wooga-Wooga Land', or being expected to grin through daily teasing from neighbourhood kids, or getting stripped naked and spray-painted with racist statements by the Tilbury Skins, after all. There's nothing nuanced about Eni's time among his violent bullies, either, where he's treated like a pet by vicious leader Levi (John Dagleish) and never considered an equal, even as he desperately hopes otherwise. It's tough viewing, but Farming's great achievement — like the hallmark British race-relations drama of the 21st century, This Is England — springs from its willingness to stare unflinchingly at its grim contents. That Akinnuoye-Agbaje treats his adult successes as a mere footnote is telling; who he has since become is important, but what he endured to get there, and the ugly attitudes he faced that still echo today, are far more vital. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_xWwFfT5jak
If you've ever wanted to care less about all the things that really don't matter — and, honestly, don't we all — then you've probably read Mark Manson's The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck. If you're really devoted to the idea, you're probably keen to get stuck into the author's latest book as well, aka Everything is F*cked: A Book About Hope. When the first book hit, it was everywhere. Approachable, brutally honest, not-quite self-help advice will have that effect. It's not about not giving any f*cks. It's about giving the right number of f*cks about the right things. After all, there are only so many one has time to give. You should obviously give a f*ck about Manson's upcoming Australian tour, of course, with the author coming to Melbourne on Monday, July 15. See the blogger-turned-bestselling writer share his thoughts and insights at the Forum — and leave giving the number of f*cks that you need to. Tickets go on sale at 12pm, Tuesday, May 21, with pre-sales from 10am on Monday, May 20.
A couple of Abbotsford favourites have teamed up for a new series of Sunday feasts that promise to take the edge right off that winter chill. You and your crew can now wrap up each weekend with a bottomless boozy pizza party, courtesy of Johnston Street bar Lulie Tavern and neighbouring Italian hot-spot Rita's Cafeteria. Venture into Lulie's between 12pm and 4pm on Sundays and you'll find a hearty food and drink fiesta awaits. For two hours, you'll get to down unlimited slices of Rita's famously good pizza, in both the margherita and pepperoni varieties. No one's going thirsty, either — the bar's got plenty in the way of liquid treats to pair with those pies, slinging bottomless beers, wine and spritzes to enjoy across the same 120 minutes. The best part? This whole Sunday lunch deal will set you back a tidy $45 per person. Bookings are a must, though, so shoot an email to hello@lulietavern.com if you're keen to head along. Lulie & Rita's Sunday Pizza Party runs from midday–4pm. Images: Jake Roden.
The latest exhibition at Grau Projekt — Clifton Hills' relatively new art gallery and warehouse bar by famed Melbourne artist and bartender Matt Bax — is a collaborative, multifaceted show by five contemporary Thai artists who are now living in Australia. Dubbed Un-Thaid, the exhibition runs from June 13 till July 27 and includes live performance, painting, ceramics, sculptures and video installations. The artists collectively explore their shared experiences of immigration and diaspora in their works. Curated by Vipoo Srivilasa, the show features Pimpisa Tinpalit's large-scale installation of a queen bed hung shibari-style with black rope from the ceiling, Phaptawan Suwannakudt's series of paintings combining native Australian flora and Thai elephants, and large-scale stencil works that draw inspiration from both pop art and graffiti by Bundit Puangthong. Ceramicist Somchai Charoen has also created colourful, fragile porcelain sculptures for the show, while Nakarin Aron Jaikla's brings mesmerising video works combining dance, Buddhism and Thai folklore. As the gallery's founder Matt Bax is not only an artist, but also an accomplished bartender, expect big things on the drinks side of things, too. A different (interactive) cocktail menu accompanies each exhibition, with the previous incarnation featuring a drink that you rolled a dice to complete. The cocktails are available at the opening night and Trink Think Tours, which run every Thursday and Friday. The Un-Thaid launch event runs from 5.30–8.30pm on Thursday, June 13. You can nab tickets to it here — $35 tickets include entry, one cocktail and the chance to see a live performance by artist Nakarin Aron Jaikla. Top image: Bundit Puangthong, Uni Nature Friends (2019)
Stan & Ollie begins with a glorious shot — an image that's strikingly composed, and that couldn't better encapsulate the film to come. Comedians Stan Laurel (Steve Coogan) and Oliver Hardy (John C. Reilly) sit in their shared Hollywood dressing room in 1937, bantering away in their playful, genial manner. Their backs are to the camera but, as they're both perched before individual mirrors, their faces are reflected in lights at either side of the frame. Stan's thinner visage smirks wryly from the mirror in front of the more jovial, sizeable Ollie, and vice versa. Director Jon S. Baird enjoys the affectionate interplay between the two comic stars, and gazes at them just as fondly. Most importantly, the filmmaker visually signifies the enormous presence that his two subjects had in each other's life. Worlds away from his last movie, the drug-addled Irvine Welsh adaptation Filth, Baird returns to comparable moments throughout Stan & Ollie. Just as the eponymous pair were at their professional best when they were together, the film shines brightest when it looks upon the two in tender exchanges. When Stan sits side-by-side with an ailing Ollie in a hotel bed, and when the duo recline on the deck of a ship against a sunset backdrop, Stan & Ollie offers an ode not only to their enduring partnership, but to the pull they felt towards each other. That's the entire picture from start to finish — however there's a particular heart-swelling sensitivity evident in these loving scenes. After spending its opening minutes on-set during the making of comedy-western Way Out West, Stan & Ollie jumps forward to 1953, when the pair's fame has faded and their double-act has nearly fractured. Reuniting after a rocky parting over contract matters, they embark on a tour of the United Kingdom largely to boost the chances of making their first film in years. But half-empty crowds in second-tier venues await, as does the scheming of an uncaring promoter, bickering between their wives (Shirley Henderson and Nina Arianda), and more than a decade of unspoken feelings about the way things have panned out. It hardly helps that, as the two ruminate upon what they had and what could've been since, they're continually met with astonishment from ordinary punters who didn't realise they were still alive. Given cinema's penchant for biopics — half of this year's Oscar acting contenders are nominated for playing real-life figures — it's surprising that Laurel and Hardy's story hasn't graced the silver screen before. Better late than never, obviously, with screenwriter Jeff Pope (also a writer on the Coogan-starring Philomena) penning the filmic equivalent of a warm hug for two of the industry's bona fide icons. There's no escaping Stan & Ollie's kindly, laudatory tone, but it's thoroughly deserved. While the zany vaudeville energy that the duo are known for only comes through in recreations of select routines, Coogan and Reilly put in pitch-perfect performances that capture exactly why their characters had such an impact on comedy as we know it. Indeed, Stan & Ollie's casting proves a cinematic stroke of genius, of the kind that every film aims for but only a select few manage. It's especially fitting that both Coogan and Reilly have become well-known for their own two-handers in recent times — the former with Rob Brydon, as largely seen in The Trip and its sequels; the latter with Will Ferrell, though last year's Holmes & Watson is best burned from everyone's memories. Experienced hands at bouncing off an on-screen partner, they're so adept at it here that their charming double-act feels like the real thing. Crucially, they sell both the sweetness and melancholy of a life spent tied to another, although the movie's most deeply moving element comes via postscript. When Hardy died, Laurel never performed again, but kept writing new material for them to share. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RE5xbDTkzQQ
The world as we know it could do with some improvement. That's a bit of an understatement; however it's also the idea behind Melbourne's returning Transitions Film Festival. This showcase of cinema aims to explore ways in which our future could be brightened, covering a huge range of topics such as food, climate change, animal welfare and renewable energy. Transitions doesn't just have an environmental focus, however. Technological innovation, gender equality, online privacy, social justice and artificial intelligence all rate a mention on the fest's 28-doco lineup — which includes 24 Australian premieres. Screening flicks at Cinema Nova between Thursday, February 21 and Friday, March 8, and hosting events at Loop Project Space & Bar and Brunswick Mechanics Institute too, the program also features sustainability academics, artists and entrepreneurs chatting about the subjects covered on-screen. Film-wise, opening night's Point of No Return explores the first ever solar-powered flight around the world, Vestige heads to South Africa to cover the efforts to save the few remaining black and white rhinos, and It Will Be Chaos charts an Eritrean refugee's attempt to navigate Italy's immigration system. There's also The Guardians, about the illegal logging threat to an ancient Mexican forest; She Started It, which highlights women tech entrepreneurs; and More Human Than Human, which ponders AI. And if you were a fan of Chasing Ice, The Cove and Racing Extinction, The Human Element comes from the same producers — and offers a visual depiction of how climate change is affecting our air, earth, fire and water. Image: The Human Element, Matthew Kennedy, Earth Vision Institute.
Time flies when you're slurping up mussels and listening to the sounds of jazz, as the folks at South Melbourne Market well and truly know. That's an apt description of how quickly two days of seafood and tunes can seem to fly by, and recognition that the Coventry and Cecil corner mainstay has been celebrating both for six years now. The latest will take place on March 9 and 10, with the Port Phillip Mussel & Jazz Festival returning to serve up a mollusc-focused street party. Oh, and 200,000 mussels. It's free, it'll fill your stomach with locally sourced seafood, and it'll offer up a feast of other treats, including sweets, tipples and dance-worthy tunes. When it comes to enjoying the tasty sea creatures, Claypots, Köy, Paco y Lola, Simply Spanish and Bambu are just some of the eateries popping up — and whipping up an array of different mussel dishes. Seafood lovers will be able to dive into everything from mussel paella to wok-cooked drunken mussels. And you'll be eating for a good cause. The shells will be collected by Shuck Don't Chuck and used to help restore the bay's shellfish reefs. Taking care of the entertainment are The Senegambian Jazz Band, The Sugarfood Ramblers, local singer Chelsea Wilson and a New Orleans-inspired seven-piece called the Horns of Leroy. Image: Simon Shiff.
When millennials reach their twilight years, Zac Efron might be singing his way through Retirement Home Musical, Blue Ivy Carter could win an Oscar for cinema's latest big hit musical biopic — about her mother, naturally — and the Stranger Things kids may've become the go-to grizzled crackpots in every sci-fi film and TV show around. No offence meant to any of them, but that's what popular culture does. Nostalgia never dies, so the entertainment industry keeps recycling the same things for the same audience, just in an era-appropriate fashion. And it'll keep doing so, long past the point when Fast & Furious 89: Now We're Fast, Furious and Fragile zooms into theatres. For a current example — a predecessor to an elderly Vin Diesel and The Rock still doing what they do, perhaps — look no further than the old geezer heist genre. In recent years, it keeps serving up veteran actors reliving their heydays with varying degrees of success. When it's done in a smart, soulful and insightful manner,the Robert Redford-starring The Old Man and the Gun is the end result. When ease, laziness and cashing in are the aim of the game instead, you get Michael Caine's two latest jaunts across Australia's big screens: 2017's Going In Style and now King of Thieves. In the former film, Caine played a desperate Brooklyn resident who robs a bank with his usually law-abiding pals (Morgan Freeman and Alan Arkin). In the latter, he's a seasoned cockney crim doing what all seasoned crims do eventually, or so the movies tell us. Reuniting with his fellow retired crook friends (Tom Courtenay, Jim Broadbent, Ray Winstone and Paul Whitehouse) after the death of his wife, Caine's Brian Reader plans one last London job over the Easter long weekend. Their target is a Hatton Garden safe deposit facility filled with cash, gold and jewels to the tune of £14 million, and they've got help from the much younger 'best alarm specialist in London', aka Basil (Charlie Cox). There's a moment early in King of Thieves that epitomises the film's bland, routine approach. The movie's five main elderly Englishmen stand around in a workshop, plotting their high-stakes scheme and rallying against today's high-tech ways — the internet is overrated, most of them decide. Then Basil walks in. The mood instantly turns frosty, complete with shots of horrified faces from Winstone's hard man, Broadbent's wildcard, Courtenay's doddering gent and Whitehouse's outsider. Caine abstains, but only because it's his character that's brought the newcomer in on the plan. In mere seconds, director James Marsh summarises the entire picture: old dogs, an aversion to new tricks and a story that keeps emphasising both. There's a few narrative twists, a dose of duplicity and treachery, and plenty of greed complicating matters, however there's never any doubt about where the whole thing is going. You'd never guess that Marsh has a duo of excellent documentaries to his name in Man on Wire and Project Nim, before he started turning true tales into standard dramas with The Theory of Everything, The Mercy and now King of Thieves. Similarly, that screenwriter Joe Penhall created stellar serial killer series Mindhunter will thoroughly escape your attention based on the dull material at hand. And King of Thieves is so broad and formulaic that you simply won't realise or care that it's based on reality, with the actual robbery carried out by geriatric criminals in 2015, and marking the largest theft in British history. The fact that the film flits awkwardly and unconvincingly between comedy and thriller doesn't help, and nor does its visually drab images, or some of the least exciting robbery scenes ever committed to celluloid. Caine and his cronies, whose numbers also includes a dishevelled Michael Gambon looking far removed from his Dumbledore days, aren't blowing the bloody doors off anything either. How can they be when they're tasked with groan-inducing one-liners like "I don't care about prison life; it's the afterlife that worries me"? Indeed, when King of Thieves resorts to inserting brief clips of the silver-haired main crew in their younger, sprightlier years — taken from older, much better works on the actors' respective resumes — the result is as creaky as the cast's joints. They deserve better, as do the viewers. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eeQAY_9vG8M
2017's Happy Death Day was the knock-off that wasn't; the rehash that name-checked its inspiration, yet did more than recycle used parts. Groundhog Day for the 21st century, it took its repetitive conceit, coupled it with a slasher flick premise and had a damn good time with the combination. When you felt like you'd seen it all before, that was by playful design. When the film threw up its own surprises — and when it toyed with genre conventions in the process — it pleasingly exceeded expectations. Watching a sorority mean girl navigate the same day endlessly not just in the name of self-improvement, but to catch her own killer, proved the lively spark that both college-set horror flicks and time loop movies needed. With follow-up Happy Death Day 2U, the scenario gets a do-over, although not in the way viewers might initially expect. Where Happy Death Day saw Tree (Jessica Rothe) reliving her birthday over and over, this inevitable sequel basically sees her revisit the past film again and again. Initially, however, the movie tasks someone else with experiencing a perpetual replay. From the outset, Ryan (Phi Vu) — the roommate of Tree's new boyfriend Carter (Israel Broussard) — replicates the same day that Tree kept enduring in the initial picture. But there's a reason for Ryan's repetitive blast from the past, thanks to his thesis physics experiment. Quicker than anyone can spit out a jumble of science jargon, his attempts to redress the situation throw Tree back into her old loop, albeit in an alternative dimension. From the retro poster on Carter and Ryan's dorm room wall, to the familiar refrains throughout the film's score, to characters flat-out discussing the similarities, Happy Death Day 2U treats Back to the Future: Part II the same way that its predecessor treated Groundhog Day. The beloved 80s sci-fi comedy is the flux capacitor powering this three-decades-later spin, but switching sources of inspiration, and ostensibly switching genres as well, doesn't make for as satisfying an outcome this time around. Written and directed by Happy Death Day's Christopher Landon, who only served as director the first time around, this sequel isn't lacking in ambition. It deserves props for endeavouring to find an interesting hook, rather than favouring a bland rehash. Still, try as it might, Happy Death Day 2U can't splice its self-referential nature and its leap into science-fiction into a convincing, completely engaging whole. As the film's feisty heroine learns more than once, when you revisit the same scenario, the little changes can't be ignored. Specifically, Tree can't escape her new dilemma — as well as staving off another mask-wearing killer, she's forced to pick between realities. The loop she's now in corrects a past trauma that she's eager to unburden, but robs her of the one thing about her future she was looking forward to. That's weighty material for a sci-fi slasher comedy, yet this isn't a weighty affair. While Happy Death Day 2U feigns at depth, and broadly takes Tree on another emotional journey, it has much more fun when it's focusing on its two gimmicks. When the picture nods and winks its way through literally repeating the initial flick, it remains peppy and perky, particularly as Tree thwarts her would-be murderer by taking matters into her own hands again and again. And although the film enjoys its science fiction silliness perhaps more than the audience, there's no missing the caper vibe. (In fact, as far as the movie's mood goes, bumps, jumps and horror thrills give way to an energetic onslaught of temporal absurdity.) At every point along the way, Rothe firmly demonstrates why Happy Death Day 2U exists beyond its potential to repeat its predecessor's box office bonanza. When the first film more than hit its marks, much of its success sprang from its little-known star's shoulders. Here, as Tree discovers that she's doing-over her endless cycle of do-overs, Rothe gives the kind of committed performance that the filmmakers are right to build a franchise around. That proves true whether she's glowering in a near-cartoonish rage, or navigating a suicide montage (and revelling in her own death more than should be possible). She's never less than an exuberant delight to watch, a description that only keeps proving true the more ridiculous the movie gets. And yet, if you're wondering why the end result remains a little underwhelming, the answer is simple. All that dying eventually pays a toll on the picture's protagonist, and all that effort to twist the same idea in new ways just feels weaker on a second run-through. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JkhbzS8PBm8
As the drummer for Nirvana and the frontman for Foo Fighters, Dave Grohl doesn't have many mixed bags on his resume. The music superstar has been in the spotlight for three-plus decades now, and boasts success after success to his name, complete with a list of awards and hits bound to make almost everyone else in the industry envious. But all their lives, Grohl and his fellow Foos must've dreamt of being horror movie stars — and the result, the pandemic-shot Studio 666, shouldn't entice any of them to quit their day jobs. A haunted-house horror-comedy, this rockstar lark is gonzo, gory and extremely goofy. It's a clear bit of fun for everyone involved, and it's made with overflowing love for the genre it slips into and parodies. But it's an indulgent and stretched exercise in famous folks following their whims at times like these, too. Achievement unlocked: there's Grohl's mixed bag. Studio 666's setup revolves around Grohl, drummer Taylor Hawkins, guitarists Chris Shiflett and Pat Smear, bassist Nate Mendel and keyboardist Rami Jaffee packing their bags for a live-in recording session at an Encino mansion. As the movie's 1993-set prologue shows, their temporary new home has a dark past, after the last group that inhabited the spot met bloody ends; however, ignorance is bliss for the Foo Fighters. Actually, an obligation to deliver their tenth album to their overbearing manager (Jeff Garlin, Curb Your Enthusiasm) inspires the move, as does the band's creative lull in conjuring up the record otherwise. Grohl instantly falls for the sound of the space as well, to an unhinged degree, and his bandmates begrudgingly agree to the month-long stay to make musical magic happen. Recording an album doesn't usually spark The Evil Dead-style murderous mayhem, cursed book and all, but that's Studio 666's gambit. Its Californian abode isn't just stalked by a grisly ghoul with a love of gut-rumbling tracks — it possesses Grohl with the need to craft a killer song, length be damned, and with satanic bloodlust, cannibal cravings and prima-donna rocker behaviour. Is he monstrous about doing whatever it takes to get the tune because he's bedevilled by the house's resident evil, he's on a power trip or both? That's one of the film's big gags, and also a hefty splatter of the kind of sense of humour it's working with. Winking, nudging, satirising, and sending up fame, egos and the all-devouring nature of entertainment stardom: they're all on the movie's menu, alongside as much gleefully cheap-looking viscera as any feature can manage to splash around. Amid the deaths by cymbal, barbecued faces and projectile-vomited guts — no, what's left of the Foos at the film's end won't be getting their bond back — there's zero doubt that Grohl and company are enjoying themselves. Actors, they aren't, but playfulness has always been part of Foo Fighters' mood. When the band began in 1994, initially as a one-man project by Grohl after Kurt Cobain's suicide the same year, it was instantly perkier and sillier than Nirvana. For the 'Big Me' music video from the group's self-titled first album, they shot an unforgettable Mentos ad parody in Sydney. With the 'Learn to Fly' clip in 1999, they satirised airline flicks — Airplane!, which was already a send-up, plus disaster fare Airport 1975 and Airport '77 — aided by Tenacious D's Jack Black and Kyle Gass. Getting so delightedly bloody might be new, but refusing to take themselves seriously definitely isn't. Surrounded by Lionel Ritchie cameos and Will Forte's (MacGruber) bit-part as a delivery driver-slash-wannabe muso, all in the house where they did actually record 2021's Medicine at Midnight, the Foos are in on all of the jokes — Grohl goes overboard with his eye acting, Jaffee couldn't be more buzzed to revel in New Age-y stereotypes and Smear is gloriously flippant about sleeping on the kitchen bench — but they also overestimate how entertaining their mucking around is for audiences. The ever-longer it sticks around, the more Studio 666 resembles viewing your mates' holiday videos and hearing them relive their in-gags from that trip you didn't take with them. The Grohl-originated story, as scripted by the Pet Sematary remake and latest American The Grudge flick scribe Jeff Buhler with Rebecca Hughes, a veteran of mid-00s sitcom Cracking Up, has more to it than a mere clip for a Foo Fighters song could sustain. There isn't enough for Hatchet III and Slayer music video director BJ McDonnell's 107-minute movie, though. Splitting the difference, a tight half-hour short like the Beastie Boys' 2011 Fight for Your Right Revisited might've hit the mark perfectly, but then no one could've sold cinema tickets. Studio 666 is a tad haunted by those other alliterative American music icons given that the Beastie Boys made ridiculously parodying movie genres an art in their clips for 'Sabotage' — aka the best music video ever made — and 'Body Movin'. This Foos' effort strives for the same vibe, but more is less here. There's a bit of A Hard Days Night to Studio 666, too. Obviously, The Beatles-starring 1964 film doesn't care too much for horror, or at all, but the two movies share a days-in-a-life angle that peers beyond the facade of fame. That's a nice piece of music synergy, in fact, given that Grohl was part of a makeshift band tasked with playing the British group's songs for the Backbeat soundtrack back in 1994, the same year Foo Fighters was born. Not just due to Grohl's flannelette-heavy wardrobe, the Nirvana of it all proves a monkey wrench for Studio 666. In coming up with a story that includes a hit early-90s band's demise after the suicide of their lead singer, it's impossible not to see Grohl's bad-taste cribbing from his own history — a piece of satire that doesn't land for a second, was never going to and is mind-bogglingly ill thought-out. When the film does work, however, it's a screwy, entrails-strewn jape. When it toys with horror fans' knowledge of the genre by using Halloween-style text with an opening theme to match, then reveals the track to be the product of the iconic John Carpenter (who also cameos on-screen), it's knowing in an ideal way. But, when Jason Trost of the cult-fave The FP franchise shows up briefly, Studio 666 lays bare its own demons. This Foo-driven film wants to be the best of that exact kind of midnight movie, but is really just a cover version.
After the year that was 2020, we could all use a bit of a chuckle. And there'll be plenty of those to go around when the latest edition of Lemon Comedy delivers a big dose of diversity to the Fringe Common Rooms on Thursday, March 18. The hilarious Annie Louey hosts a jam-packed night of stand-up, championing inclusivity across a lineup of female-identifying, non-binary and LGBTQIA+ comedians, artists living with a disability or mental illness, and comedians of colour. Kicking off from 7.30pm, you'll catch a broad range of comedic talent serving up the laughs, headlined by award-winning cabaret star and songwriter Selina Jenkins (BOOBS). Also in the side-splitting mix are writer and comedian Alistair Baldwin (Lame), RAW Comedy Victorian finalist Sashi Perera, award-winning stand-up act Sonia Di Iorio, and multi-talented artist and performer Heather Joan. Audiences are in for a few surprises, too, not least of which is a top-secret international star being streamed in live from the UK. This will be the first 2021 outing for the Lemon Comedy showcase, so you'd best start warming up those cheek muscles — it's going to be a big one. [caption id="attachment_803048" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Lemon Comedy host, Annie Louey[/caption] Top image: Duncographic
What happens when a lineup of Melbourne's hospitality favourites team up to throw a huge Tex-Mex fiesta on a rooftop? Well, we're about to find out. That's what's on the menu when New El Paso takes over Johnny's Green Room for a one-off celebration from 12pm on Sunday, April 11. Casey Wall (Bar Liberty, Capitano) and Chris Watson (Meatsmith) are joining forces to cook up a storm, plating up an exclusive menu of American and Mexican dishes. You'll be able to get your mitts on such hits as mushroom quesadillas filled with Oaxaca cheese and jalapeños ($11), fried chicken tortas laced with chipotle mayo and tomato salsa ($16), and hard shell tacos stuffed with smoked brisket burnt ends ($17). Downstairs neighbour Pidapipo is also coming to the party, with a special sweet corn gelato taco for dessert ($11). While you stuff your face, you'll be grooving to tunes from DJ Chico G and sipping pints of Garage Project's Golden Path IPA. Or, stick with the theme and try out the Johnny's 8 Ball cocktail special — a gutsy blend of Blanco tequila, mezcal, Aperol, yellow chartreuse and lime. Top image: Sarah Pannell.
Lockdowns (one and two) have hit Melbourne's hospitality industry pretty hard this year, leaving many workers without jobs or with drastically cut hours, with I Lost My Hospo Shift reporting that over $2 million in wages have been lost in the last week alone. But for southside hospo and entertainment staff who've been doing it tough, a helping hand is here in the form of a pop-up kitchen doling out free meals. Taking over Windsor's Neptune Food & Wine tonight, Monday, July 27, The Big Ass Staff Meal is here to remind us all just how good Melbourne's hospo scene is, serving up hundreds of free takeaway feeds for local industry workers. The team has pulled together donations from the likes of Commune Group — including free use of the High Street restaurant — View Hotels, meat suppliers Flinders & Co and distributor Bidfood Wholesale, and is getting busy whipping up the ultimate chef-cooked staff meal — a hospo ritual many of you might've been missing out on lately. From 6–8pm, there'll be a range of food packs available, complete with sides, dessert and even pre-batched booze-free cocktails courtesy of Lyre's. Expect plenty of vegan and vegetarian options on offer, too. Hospo folk keen for tonight's staff feed can simply RSVP via Facebook to give organisers an idea of numbers. During pick-up, face masks will be mandatory and social distancing protocols will be in place. Melburnians have been directed to stay as local as they can when leaving the house for an essential reason during lockdown, so The Big Ass Staff Meal team is encouraging only those in Windsor and surrounding suburbs to pick up a meal.
Usually, when Jungle Collective hosts one of its huge sales in Melbourne, it fills a Richmond warehouse with indoor plants — and jungle vibes. But on Saturday, October 17 and Sunday, October 18, it's going virtual with its weird and wonderful pieces of greenery instead. Whether you're after a hanging pot plant, some palms for the garden or a giant Bird of Paradise, chances are you'll find it here. You'll just be doing your shopping online via the Jungle Collective website rather than heading in-store. Generally, more than 170 different species tend to be on offer in-person — so here's hoping that hefty range makes the virtual jump. While this is a 100-percent online event, tickets work in a similar way as Jungle Collective's physical sales. Due to expected demand, it'll be held in multiple sessions — with your ticket specifying when you'll need to hop online and start buying. Virtual shoppers do need to register for free tickets in advance from midday on Monday, October 12 to take part, though. As for deliveries, your plants will make their way to you over the following week from Sunday, October 24, with more details given when you make your purchase. Delivery costs $15–40 depending on your area, with orders within 25 kilometres driving distance nabbing free delivery if you spend $150 — and everyone living further away getting $15 off.
A good pair of boots is an investment. If you're adding some to your wardrobe, it's worth making sure you get the right ones. But, sadly, if you find yourself a pair that you can wear day and night, eventually even the best boots get a little worse for wear. Until Sunday, October 25, RM Williams has a solution — for everyone who has worn out their old boots, wants and/or needs a new pair, but hasn't gotten around to it just yet. Head by one of the brand's stores, bring your old boots with you and you'll be able to trade them in as part of its Well Worn Trade special, scoring a discount on some new RMs. In particularly great news for everyone who has a different brand of boots, you can trade in leather boots of any brand. That'll nab you $100 off some brand new RMs — or, if you do have some old RMs to trade, you'll receive $150 off your next pair. The trade-in is only available in-store, unless you're in Victoria — where you'll be asked to email in some details and images first, before posting the boots in. And if you're wondering what'll happen to all those old shoes, all traded RMs will be sent back to the brand's workshop to be restored and replenished, while boots of all other brands will be donated to the World's Biggest Garage Sale.
The working day is done, and you're ready to relax with a cold one. On Thursday, September 19 and Friday, September 20, if you head to Federation Square, you can also sip a couple of brews for free. From 4–8pm each day, the inner-city spot will play host to a beer keg-filled kombi, which'll be pouring free samples. You'll be sipping Mountain Goat'ss finest beverages, and each person can grab two freebies. The giveaway is part of an Australian road trip by hotel chain Four Points by Sheraton, with the kombi hitting the road, travelling around the nation and sharing the brews. You'll also be able to meet local brewers, enter a competition to win a trip to New Zealand, and score a special beer and wings deal at Four Points by Sheraton Melbourne Docklands if you're still feeling thirsty — or hungry — afterwards.
For three nights in October, Chin Chin's new event space will transform into an immersive art installation and performance — with an impressive lineup of food and drinks, too — for Hyper Real 2.0. A collaboration between Chin Chin and conceptional artist, musician and all-round creative Offerings (aka Missy Gilbert) — who's known for the themed dining experiences she hosts in Sydney — the part dinner, part art show will ignite all of the senses senses, giving you things to touch, listen to, look at and taste. Between Thursday, October 10 and Saturday, October 12, you'll be able to partake in a sensory overloaded experience where licking walls, cutting through metal fences, listening to experimental music, and partaking in five interactive food and drink experiences will bamboozle, delight and amuse. Upon ticket purchase, you will be sent secret instructions and a dress code — to ensure you truly become part of the art. Three events take place each night — at 6pm, 8pm and 9.30pm — with tickets on sale now for $145 per person.
Storytelling is as old as time. It's how we share experiences, knowledge and memories. Non-profit organisation The Moth is dedicated to sharing personal stories and celebrating the art of telling them. The New York-based initiative hosts over 500 live open-mic events across the globe each year, with people — from notable literary and cultural personalities to your average Joe — getting up on stage to tell their stories. In 2008, The Moth brought its communal open mic events Down Under and this year, on Monday, July 1, Melbourne will hear some of the best stories of the city about being bold. These tales could range from sweet anecdotes — perhaps wearing a crazy outfit or saying 'I love you' for the first time — to bigger acts of bravery like running headfirst into a burning building. Brandishing their weapons of word and wit, the storytellers will compete for the top gong at Howler in Brunswick. You'll hear five-minute stories of the bold type that are both tightly crafted and masterfully told. Come for stories that inspire, provoke, sadden and enlighten, told by some of Melbourne's best. Or, if you consider yourself a wordsmith, you can drop your name in the bag to be selected at random, then grab the mic, hit the stage and tell your five-minute tale. The Moth StorySLAM: Bold will take place at Howler. Doors open at 7pm, with stories beginning at 7.30pm. Tickets are on sale now and can be purchased here.
There's always some sort of party going at Welcome to Thornbury, and while doggos are always welcome, the venue's Tiny Dog Festival will see the space swarmed by pups of the super small variety. If it's an adorable little barking creature, it'll be in the spotlight on Sunday, July 28 — so bring your own or prepare to pat plenty of others. And, although the site's food trucks and bars will be catering to humans, plenty of dog-friendly businesses will be on hand to cater to your pooch's every need. Plus, if it's anything like last year, there'll be beer (for you) and bone (for your four-legged friend) deals on offer. As part of the all-round celebration of pint-sized pooches over a few pints, the fest will also feature a tiny dog race and a best-dressed tiny dog competition. If your pupper is speedy or has great style, then you'll want to take part. Plus, Welcome to Thornbury also wants to find the inner north's tiniest adult dog, so prepare to spend a day staring at cute pooches that could fit in your pocket and wonder how you can get them in there without their owners noticing.
As its eponymous heroine (Daisy Ridley) lays prone in a pond, eyes closed, her hands clutching a wilting bouquet of flowers, Ophelia opens with a potential mic-drop moment. "You may think you know my story; many have told it," the film's narration accurately advises, which usually signals that a swift change of style, approach or pace will soon follow. Thankfully, while slick, over-amped, action-packed modernisations of classic tales have become common on cinema screens of late, this take on Hamlet instead opts to switch its perspective. Exploring the tragedies surrounding the famed, fictional, medieval-era Danish prince (George McKay), the movie doesn't ponder whether to be or not to be. Rather, it views its narrative through his paramour's eyes — with the gorgeously staged and shot feature brandishing noticeable differences as a result, but still looking and feeling as if William Shakespeare wouldn't be rolling in his grave. One of the playwright's most acclaimed and influential works (Star Wars, The Lion King and TV's Sons of Anarchy have all taken their cues from it), Hamlet has always proven a fascinating account of power, politics, love, lust, loyalty and vengeance. In Australian filmmaker Claire McCarthy's (The Waiting City) hands, that's also true, however its new feminist thrust is as intriguing as it is welcome. Adapting the novel by Lisa Klein, screenwriter Semi Chellas (Mad Men) contemplates not only the fate of feuding men, but of women forced to live with the consequences of male-dominated decisions. A delicate balancing act is at play; befitting today's times, Ophelia emerges from Hamlet's sidelines, tries to steer her own course and doesn't simply descend into jilted madness — although, as the Bard intended, her path remains forever tied to her beloved. Uttered firmly and passionately by Ridley, whose Star Wars pedigree ensures she knows a few things about those traits, Ophelia's scene-setting introductory narration characterises its protagonist as "a wilful girl". They're her own words, worn as a badge of honour, which the film then spends its time unpacking. As a slip of a pre-teen (Mia Quiney) who's a little too wily for her widower father Polonius (Dominic Mafham), yet isn't allowed to receive the same education as her brother Laertes (Tom Felton), Ophelia attracts the attention of Queen Gertrude (Naomi Watts). While Hamlet (played as a child by Jack Cunningham-Nuttall) is schooled abroad, Ophelia joins the court's ladies-in-waiting. When the prince returns home as a man, finding Ophelia similarly all grown up, sparks fly — but so does betrayal, death and something rotten in the state of Denmark, especially after the king is slain, leaving his brother Claudius (Clive Owen) to claim Hamlet's throne as well as his mother. McCarthy may buck the current stylistic trend when it comes to re-envisaging well-known, period-set stories (Robin Hood or King Arthur, this isn't, thankfully), but her interpretation still bears signs of its influences. With a focus on star-cross'd lovers, elements of Shakespeare's own Romeo and Juliet sneak in. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern earn a mention in the movie's dialogue, naturally, with the duo's own reimagined filmic excursion — comedy Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead — casting a small shadow. So too do a few of the Bard's recurrent motifs from his broader canon, including potions, twins and plays-within-plays. And yet, Ophelia is steadfastly its own piece, thanks to its evocative mood, sumptuous staging and intricate costuming in no small part. The tale's Elsinore castle setting appears both earthy and ethereal, continuing the lush aesthetics heralded in the movie's opening shot, which nods to Sir John Everett Millais's famed 1850s painting that's also named Ophelia. One particularly horrendous wig aside — a long, drab, floppy mess that does the otherwise adequate Owen no favours — this version of Ophelia also makes the most of many of its stars, as any iteration of this narrative by any name needs to. Playfulness permeates Chellas' reworked prose, alongside the source material's trademark wit, which rolls off of the actors' respective tongues. A sense of inner steeliness reverberates through the film's performances too, not only guiding Ridley's work, but evident in Watts' efforts in multiple roles. Indeed, when a new take on Shakespeare inspires the audience to luxuriate in its characters, their dialogue and the emotions they're conveying, it's nobly doing its job. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bmelYOAFv20
UPDATE, February 5, 2021: Apollo 11 is available to stream via Amazon Prime Video, Google Play, YouTube Movies and iTunes. For those born after humanity initially visited the moon, it's easy to take the amazing achievement for granted. It has been 47 years since anyone has strolled across the earth's only natural satellite, but our ability to soar into space and tread on the lunar surface if we wanted to still seems like a given. With 2019 marking five decades since Neil Armstrong took one small step for man and one giant leap for mankind, the timing couldn't be better to consider the historic Apollo 11 mission in detail. Naming his documentary after the pioneering spaceflight, director, editor and producer Todd Douglas Miller knows that anyone can run through the ins and outs of the preparation, voyage and on-the-ground hoopla. Only by assembling an astounding array of archival audio and video footage, however, can a documentary dare to dream about capturing not just the expedition, but the complete experience. How does it feel to place one foot in front of the other on a celestial body located nearly 400,000 kilometres above the earth, as Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin did? What was it like to be back at Cape Canaveral viewing the rocket launch? Or to be in NASA's mission control centre during the eight days that the vessel's three-man crew were in the air? They're questions that Apollo 11 endeavours to answer. While space-based films have tracked nearly every other possible aspect of venturing into the heavens, especially in science fiction, relaying the one thing that humanity has actually accomplished has always proven trickier until this exceptional doco. In the inky darkness above us, no one can hear you scream, according to Ridley Scott's Alien — and yet, if you're Armstrong, an entire planet can hang on your every word while you're taking the first-ever walk across the moon. Last year, Damien Chazelle's First Man went to great lengths to show that iconic incident from the late astronaut's perspective, but there's simply nothing like watching the real thing. As an editor, Miller's task is immense, trawling through more primary materials than any filmmaker tackling the moon landing could hope to have at their disposal. The Dinosaur 13 director not only received access to a wealth of newly discovered, previously unprocessed 65mm visuals, but to more than 11,000 hours of uncatalogued audio recordings featuring 60 key personnel. Delving into such a treasure trove, he follows a linear timeline. Although that may sound straightforward, the end result is by no means standard. Apollo 11 flies meticulously through the intricacies of its eponymous mission, specifically highlighting the launch of the Columbia spacecraft, the Eagle lunar module's descent to the moon, the process of reconnecting the two vessels together afterwards and the re-entry into the planet's atmosphere. More than that, it makes viewers feel as if they're there as well — waving flags in Florida, muttering into headsets in Houston, careening through space and stepping onto the moon's powdery white surface. There's a basic principle at work here, and one that Apollo 11 puts into action in the best possible way: show don't tell. For the last 50 years, the world has deployed countless words to discuss the mission's feat — perhaps that's why we've lost our sense of wonder about it — so Miller doesn't waste time recapping, recounting or analysing. Although Aldrin and fellow Apollo 11 astronaut Michael Collins are still alive, he doesn't ask them to chat about the space venture either. Rather, he lets the materials from the period offer a portal back to the past. Eschewing narration and interviews, the filmmaker relies upon his stunning archive to relay this monumental story. Nothing else is necessary; vivid and teeming with life, Apollo 11's footage and audio truly goes above and beyond, especially when seen on the big or IMAX screen. It gives the big, weighty moments their time to shine, including Armstrong's famous words. It features astonishing off-the-planet sights, such as the view of Earth from such great heights. It also turns seemingly routine minutiae, of which there's plenty, into a jaw-dropping spectacle. Indeed, much of the documentary's power stems from its vibrancy, not just in observing the nuts and bolts of the spaceflight, but in making this immersive portrait of five decades ago appear virtually futuristic. The movie's images are that comprehensive, even with the obvious 60s-era clothing, furniture and technology, that they feel almost unreal. The open and engaged looks on everyone's faces evoke the same sensation, as do their relaxed and respectful conversations, because such collective camaraderie and widespread earnestness aren't overly common in the 21st-century. Of course, it should feel extraordinary to ponder something as significant as sending people to the moon, let alone to bear witness to it. Continuing that sentiment, Apollo 11 doesn't simply transport the audience back in time, or immortalise one of humanity's greatest achievements in never-before-seen detail — it also provides a glaring snapshot of who we were, what we once valued and how much we've changed in such a short period. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sKWKjKtkwxk
We hope you're thirsty, Melbourne. The city's newest craft beer festival kicks into gear next month and it runs for a whole five weeks. Descending on The General Assembly from August 26 to September 29, the inaugural HopsFest celebrates a different Aussie brewery each week, dishing up a froth-tastic program of brewer sessions, bottomless beer feasts, tap takeovers and daily 'hoppy hours'. A series of educational Beer Banter Thursdays sessions will feature brewer chats, masterclasses, trivia, giveaways and snack-matched beer tastings, clocking in at a very reasonable $30 a head. Meanwhile, HopsFest's Boozy Bash Saturdays will deliver a series of free weekly afternoon parties, complete with beer tastings and live tunes from 4–7pm. Then on Sundays, the $49 Bottomless Brew sessions will see you sitting down to the best kind of boozy lunch, where a food menu is matched with two hours of free-flowing tap beer from that week's showcase brewery. Adelaide Hills' Prancing Pony kicks things off the first week, with plates like burnt honey- and bush spice-glazed lamb ribs, and popcorn chicken with smoked chilli aioli. Abbotsford's Moon Dog takes the reins for week two, followed by 4 Pines, Pirate Life and Colonial Brewing Co. What's more, all throughout HopsFest you'll score $10 'brewer's choice' pints all day, along with weekly changing beer-matched lunch specials (such as a pint and pie for $25). And from 4-6pm each day, 'hoppy hour' sees all the brewery's tap beers slashed to just $10 a pint.
Trivia comps mean gathering your mates around, enjoying a few beverages and trying to convert your respective stores of knowledge into glory. At this particular trivia afternoon, you'll do all that, but there'll be a particular emphasis on your pals. Given that the topic of the session is a certain sitcom about a band of best buddies, celebrating your chums is the thing to do. Yes, Friends is in the spotlight at Welcome to Thornbury's next battle of pop culture tidbits. If you think you know everything there is to know about the show that caused viewers to agonise over whether Ross and Rachel would get together, wish that Joey and Chandler lived next door and get their hair cut like Jennifer Aniston, here's your chance to prove it. Bar tabs are on offer, and if you wanted an excuse to break out those 90s and early 00s fashions, this is it. Remember, though, it has been 15 years since Friends was on TV, making the contest not just a test of trivia, but a workout for everyone's memories. No one told you that watching endless television reruns could turn out this way. Friends Trivia takes place from 2pm on Sunday, August 4. Participation is free, but you'll need to book a table. And, to help boost your brain, there'll be $5 mulled wines and $15 jugs of beer on offer.
Timing is everything in Where the Crawdads Sing, the murder-mystery melodrama set in America's Deep South that raced up bestseller lists in 2018, and now reaches cinemas a mere four years later. Its entire narrative hinges upon a simple question: did North Carolina outcast and recluse Kya Clark (Daisy Edgar-Jones, Fresh), cruelly nicknamed "the marsh girl" by locals, have time to speed home from an out-of-town stay to push star quarterback Chase Andrews (Harris Dickinson, The King's Man) from a fire tower, then resume her trip without anyone noticing? On the page, that query helped propel Delia Owens' literary sensation to success, to Reese Witherspoon's book club — she's a producer here — and to a swift film adaptation. But no timing would likely have ever been right for the movie's release, given that Owens and her husband are wanted for questioning in a real-life murder case in Zambia. Unlike the film, those off-screen details aren't new, but they were always bound to attract attention again as soon as this feature arrived. One of the reasons they're inescapable: the purposeful parallels between Owens' debut novel and her existence. Like Kya, Owens is a naturalist. The also southern-born author spent years preferring the company of plants and animals, crusading for conservation causes in Africa. Where the Crawdads Sing is timed to coincide with Owens' own life as well; it's set in the 50s and 60s and, as a child (played by Jojo Regina, The Chosen) and a teenager, Kya is around the same age that Owens would've been then. Another reason that the ways that art might link with reality can't be shaken, lingering like a sultry, squelchy day: what ends up on-screen is as poised, pristine and polished as a swampy southern gothic tale can be, and anyone in one. There's still a scandal, but forget dirt, sweat and anything but lush, vivid wilderness, plus a rustic hut that wouldn't look out of place on Airbnb. That Instagram-friendly aesthetic comes courtesy of filmmaker Olivia Newman (First Match), who helms a visually enticing movie — again, incongruously so given the story it unfurls and the location it dwells in — that's as typical as a murder-mystery meets coming-of-age tale meets southern romance can be. The film starts with Chase's body, the investigation that springs and the certainty around the insular small town of Barkley Cove that the supposedly feral and uncivilised marsh girl is responsible. Evidence is thin, but bigotry runs deep against someone who grew up with an abusive father (Garret Dillahunt, Ambulance), was left behind by her other family members and spent the bulk of her years fending for herself in poverty. That said, as in Owens' source material, that's just the framework. On the screen, though, Where the Crawdads Sing's dive into Kya's life feels like it's also been adapted from Nicholas Sparks' pages. Most of Barkley Cove has always shunned Kya, other than generous store owners Jumpin' (Sterling Macer Jr, House of Lies) and Mabel (Michael Hyatt, The Little Things), who she sells mussels to — the feature's only Black characters, who are woefully only used to stress how callous the rest of the town proves, rather than to even dream of digging into matters of race in America's south as the civil rights movement started to gather steam. Also kindly, taking on her defence, is her Atticus Finch-esque local lawyer Tom Milton (David Strathairn, Nightmare Alley). But romance still blossoms not once but twice for Kya, first with the doting, poetry-reading Tate Walker (Taylor John Smith, Blacklight), and then with arrogant rich kid Chase. That's where Newman's film prefers to reside, charting the ups and downs of Kya's affairs of the heart. That's why the movie appears so immaculate that it shimmers with a marsh-chic gleam as well. Smooching in the swamp replaces The Notebook-style kissing in the rain here. Skimming the surface replaces fleshing out what makes Kya tick, what her surroundings truly mean to her, and humanity's complex ties to nature. Kya is the strongest part of Where the Crawdads Sing, but the film makes everything about and around her so by the numbers. Taken from the book, sometimes-evocative turns of phrase litter Lucy Alibar's (Beasts of the Southern Wild) script, endeavouring to conjure up a rich atmosphere and bring Kya's inner feelings to life, including her love for the bayou. They're always far too neat, however, like everything within view. And as impressive as Edgar-Jones is as an actor (see also: fellow page-to-screen hit Normal People), it's impossible to reconcile Where the Crawdads Sing's careful words and dreamy vision of marsh life — such as the way its star is styled — with what the film tells rather than shows about its central character. Kya's kinship with the wetlands is stressed over and over, of course. Where the Crawdads Sing rarely misses an opportunity to mention it. The audience is informed that it's where she feels safe and at home, and learns to be herself — and also provides the inspiration behind her career as an illustrator, cataloguing the creatures that only live in the kind of thick bushland described in the movie's title. But viewers are still stuck doing exactly what the picture rallies against in its narrative: believing their eyes and taking appearances at face value. The only alternative is sketching in minutiae and texture that just isn't in the film — that is, bringing what's present in the book to this version of the story, including what Newman and Alibar left out, then combining the two in your head. That's not how turning novels into movies should work; they're standalone pieces of art, not visual companions. It doesn't fit the tale being told — one that includes child abandonment, sexual assault, domestic violence, and both societal and legal prejudices — but the movie's backdrop does always look stunning, as lensed with the golden glow of a tourism commercial by cinematographer Polly Morgan (A Quiet Place Part II). That's Where the Crawdads Sing, though: pretty rather than profound, meaningfully complicated or substantial. Dickinson and Smith's plights also sum up the film perfectly. While the always-welcome and ever-reliable Strathairn puts in a fine performance that's largely defined by rousing speeches, both Dickinson and Smith do exactly what's asked of them without being given much room to play anything but stock roles. That's Where the Crawdads Sing at its very best, too: always utterly standard. That said, although never visibly or emotionally, it's usually far muddier than that.
Three friends, a huge music festival worth making a mega mission to get to and an essential bag of goon: if you didn't experience that exact combination growing up in Australia, did you really grow up in Australia? That's the mix that starts 6 Festivals, too, with the Aussie feature throwing in a few other instantly familiar inclusions to set the scene. Powderfinger sing-alongs, scenic surroundings and sun-dappled moments have all filled plenty of teenage fest trips, and so has an anything-it-takes mentality — and for the film's central trio of Maxie (Rasmus King, Barons), Summer (Yasmin Honeychurch, Back of the Net) and James (Rory Potter, Ruby's Choice), they're part of their trip to Utopia Valley. But amid dancing to Lime Cordiale and Running Touch, then missing out on Peking Duk's stroke-of-midnight New Year's Eve set after a run-in with security, a shattering piece of news drops. Suddenly these festival-loving friends have a new quest: catching as much live music as they can to help James cope with cancer. The first narrative feature by Bra Boys and Fighting Fear director Macario De Souza, 6 Festivals follows Maxie, Summer and James' efforts to tour their way along the east coast festival circuit. No, there are no prizes for guessing how many gigs are on their list, with the Big Pineapple Music Festival, Yours and Owls and Lunar Electric among the events on their itinerary. Largely road-tripping between real fests, and also showcasing real sets by artists spanning Dune Rats, Bliss n Eso, G Flip, B Wise, Ruby Fields, Dope Lemon, Stace Cadet and more, 6 Festivals dances into the mud, sweat and buzz — the crowds, cheeky beers and dalliances with other substances that help form this coming-of-age rite-of-passage, aka cramming in as many festivals as you possibly can from the moment your parents will let you, as well. This is also a cancer drama, however, which makes for an unsurprisingly tricky balancing act, especially after fellow Aussie movie Babyteeth tackled the latter so devastatingly well so recently. Take that deservedly award-winning film, throw in whichever music festival documentary takes your fancy, then add The Bucket List but with teens — that's 6 Festivals. There's a touch of the concert-set 9 Songs as well, obviously sans sex scenes. Spotting the dots connected by De Souza and Sean Nash's (a Home and Away and Neighbours alum) script isn't difficult. That said, neither is spying the movie's well-intentioned aim. Riding the ecstatically bustling festival vibe, and surveying everything from the anticipation-laden pre-fest excitement through to the back-to-reality crash afterwards, 6 Festivals is an attempt to capture and celebrate the fest experience, as well as a concerted effort to face a crucial fact: that, as much as a day in the mosh pit feels like an escape and is always worth cherishing, it only sweeps away life's stark truths momentarily. The film's core threesome have their fair share of stresses; pivotally, 6 Festivals sticks with believable dramas. James faces his diagnosis, treatment and his mother's (Briony Williams, Total Control) worries, all while trying to recruit the feature's array of musical acts for his own dream event. Scoring backstage access comes courtesy of up-and-coming Indigenous muso Marley (debutant Guyala Bayles), who graces most of the lineups and shared a childhood with Summer, united by their respective mothers' struggles with addiction — and, now they've crossed paths again, offers to mentor her pal's own singing career. As for Maxie, his drug-dealing older brother Kane (Kyuss King, also from Barons) is usually at the same fests pressuring him into carrying his stash. They're the only family each other has, so saying no doesn't seem an option. Cemented friendships, last hurrahs, big dreams, substance-addled chaos: all festivals boast these tales, whichever one, six or 1000 anyone happens to pick. Again, it's easy to see how De Souza and Nash have chosen not only their overall plot, but its narrative beats — and it's just as easy to understand why, what they're striving for and how it's hoped that viewers will respond. 6 Festivals' live footage is vivid and authentic in its look, texture and tone, and the story sticks to the same relatable terrain. Of course, the line between clichéd and being predictable because that's simply how life is can be incredibly thin, not to mention subjective. Sometimes, 6 Festivals falls on the raw and immersive side of the been-there-done-that equation, and sometimes on the forced and well-worn — like a well-known song either given a definitive new live spin, or sounding exactly as it does whenever and wherever it's played. Always fresh and lived-in, and never just doing what's done, is the film's impressive young cast — even when the dialogue they're uttering is more than a little clunky. It isn't merely Potter who gets saddled with awkward lines, thankfully, as the worst pictures about ailing characters tend to do. 6 Festivals doesn't push its cancer-stricken character to the side and, with all five of its key figures wading through woes, it smartly doesn't use his deteriorating health solely to gift his pals with life-changing lessons, either. Still, whenever the movie gleans an opportunity to spell out its weighty emotions as overtly as it can, it takes it. It needn't; Potter sells James' plight in his yearning eyes and anxious energy, including when getting drunk feels like the only thing to do, while Honeychurch, Bayles and the IRL King brothers all leave their own imprints. Every festival thrives or falters based on its lineup, and this film that flits between six of them is no different — including via the real-life bands and artists that fill its frames. Some get worked into the narrative in those aforementioned behind-the-action chats, others solely bust out their onstage best, but the full roster provides a stelar snapshot of Australia's music and fest scenes. With the live performances, as well as the general on-the-ground atmosphere, cinematographer Hugh Miller (June Again) and editor Ahmad Halimi (The Bureau of Magical Things) achieve the most vital task 6 Festivals has: making feeling like you're there the easiest feeling in the world. The movie overall is a mixed bag, but wanting to rush out of the cinema — or hop up from your couch, with the film hitting streaming on August 25, a fortnight after its big-screen debut — and into the first festival near you is an instant reaction.
UPDATE, October 19, 2022: The Stranger released in Australian cinemas on October 6, then streams via Netflix from October 19. No emotion or sensation ripples through two or more people in the exact same way, and never will. The Stranger has much to convey, but it expresses that truth with piercing precision. The crime-thriller is the sophomore feature from actor-turned-filmmaker Thomas M Wright — following 2018's stunning Adam Cullen biopic Acute Misfortune, another movie that shook everyone who watched it and proved hard to shake — and it's as deep, disquieting and resonant a dance with intensity as its genre can deliver. To look into Joel Edgerton's (Thirteen Lives) eyes as Mark, an undercover cop with a traumatic but pivotal assignment, is to spy torment and duty colliding. To peer at Sean Harris (Spencer) as the slippery Henry Teague is to see a cold, chilling and complex brand of shiftiness. Sitting behind these two performances in screentime but not impact is Jada Alberts' (Mystery Road) efforts as dedicated, determined and drained detective Kate Rylett — and it may be the portrayal that sums up The Stranger best. Writing as well as directing, Wright has made a film that is indeed dedicated, determined and draining. At every moment, including in sweeping yet shadowy imagery and an on-edge score, those feelings radiate from the screen as they do from Alberts. Sharing the latter's emotional exhaustion comes with the territory; sharing their sense of purpose does as well. In the quest to capture a man who abducted and murdered a child, Rylett can't escape the case's horrors — and, although the specific details aren't used, there's been no evading the reality driving this feature. The Stranger doesn't depict the crime that sparked Kate Kyriacou's non-fiction book The Sting: The Undercover Operation That Caught Daniel Morcombe's Killer, or any violence. It doesn't use the Queensland schoolboy's name, or have actors portray him or his family. This was always going to be an inherently discomforting and distressing movie, though, but it's also an unwaveringly intelligent and impressive examination of trauma. There's no other word to describe what Mark and Rylett experience — and, especially as it delves into Mark's psychological state as he juggles his job with being a single father, The Stranger is a film about tolls. What echoes do investigating and seeking justice for an atrocious act leave? Here, the portrait is understandably bleak and anguished. What imprint do such incidences have upon society more broadly? That also falls into the movie's examination. Mark, along with a sizeable group of fellow officers, is trying to get a confession and make an arrest. Back east, Rylett is one of the police who won't and can't let the situation go. Doling out its narrative in a structurally ambitious way, The Stranger doesn't directly address the human need for resolution, or to restore a semblance of order and security after something so heinously shocking, but that's always baked into its frames anyway. Travelling across the country, Henry first meets a stranger on a bus, getting chatting to Paul (Steve Mouzakis, Clickbait) en route. It's the possibility of work that hooks the ex-con and drifter — perhaps more so knowing that his potential new gig will be highly illicit, and that evading the authorities is implicit. Soon he meets Mark, then seizes the opportunity to reinvent himself in a criminal organisation, not knowing that he's actually palling around with the cops. It's an immense sting, fictionalised but drawn from actuality, with The Stranger also playing as a procedural. The connecting the dots-style moves remain with Rylett, but Wright's decision to hone in on the police operation still means detailing how to catch a killer, astutely laying out the minutiae via action rather than chatting through the bulk of the ins and outs. When Wright made his initial leap behind the camera after almost two decades on-screen — an acting resume that spans a range of weighty fare, such as Van Diemen's Land, Balibo, Top of the Lake, The Bridge and Sweet Country — he spun a tale of two men connecting, entangling and grappling with hard truths. Acute Misfortune and The Stranger are immensely different movies in a plethora of ways, even if both do find their basis in IRL situations, but there's no missing their common central dynamic. While The Stranger wouldn't be the film it is without its time with Rylett, and with the phenomenal Alberts in that key role, the interplay between Mark and Henry retains its core focus. To be accurate, Mark sits squarest in its spotlight — including surveying the anxiety he feels as a single father tasked with such a case, which plays out in striking domestic and dream sequences — but it isn't a coincidence that Edgerton and Harris are styled to visibly resemble each other. Also never an accident: that The Stranger's male leads turn in transfixing performances, whether guiding the film's viewers through Mark's waking ordeal and literal nightmares, or showing their cause. This is Edgerton and Harris' third project together in mere years, after The King and The Green Knight — but if it wasn't, it'd be clear why both Wright and Edgerton (who produces and optioned the rights to The Sting to begin with) opted for the pairing. The Stranger sears not just with intensity but tension, so much of which jitters whenever the two men share the frame. A blazing car fire aside, the largely muted colours lensed by cinematographer Sam Chiplin (Penguin Bloom) add to the brooding, primal, dread-filled mood. The nervy soundscape by composer and cellist Oliver Coates (Aftersun, and also a Radiohead collaborator) does the same. But The Stranger's faces and bodies, as haunted and unbalanced as they always are, say — and silently scream — everything. Wright wants his audience to observe carefully, and to listen. The feature's sound design toys with this very idea; when a drive with Mark and Henry switches its dialogue to surveillance audio, it's such a straightforward choice, and yet its execution is layered, smart and immensely powerful. There's no such thing as passively and easily viewing The Stranger, it tells us, as does describing calming breathing techniques in its opening moments. Engaging with this movie has to be an active and complicated feat because engaging with the darkness it explores always is. Who retells grim chapters of history, and why and how, aren't questions isolated to Australian cinema, especially with true crime a perennially popular genre on screens large and small — and pages and podcasts, and wherever and however else such tales are told — and with The Stranger, they've surfaced again just a year after bubbling up around Justin Kurzel's Nitram. Like that, this equally exceptional and unsettling film makes plain that interrogating events like these is crucial. Here, it's also transformative for those doing the probing, the world they inhabit and those watching.
The global pandemic has turned things upside down, but one thing that hasn't changed much is Aussies' love for local, small-batch gin. And, now that the warm weather has arrived, it's well and truly G&T time. For those wanting to become true gin aficionados, though, you'll have to look beyond mixing the stuff with Schweppes. Enter Archie Rose's Virtual Experiences, which is bringing the distillery to your living room. The Sydney-based distillery makes some of the best gin in the country, so expect these online, booze-fuelled adventures to level up your next at-home happy hour. First up, you can partake in a virtual gin and whisky tasting ($80), with a flight of five Archie Rose spirits, as well as some tonic and a tasting mat, all delivered to your door. Or, you can go for its cocktail sessions, where you'll be shaking up two tasty gin-based cocktails. The at-home pack that comes with recipe cards and a prep sheet for $85 and you can tune into a live-stream class, too. There's also the blend-your-own gin workshop for $119, which includes everything you'll need to make your own signature gin, plus delivery and a 45-minute live-stream masterclass with an Archie Rose expert. You can select the infusions that match your gin style and choose from flavours like native river mint or juniper, cassia bark and coriander seed. Archie Rose You can also book in private classes for large groups and parties, just send them an email. If you'd rather skip the work and get straight to sipping, the Aussie spirits label is delivering its four bottled cocktails, too, from its twist on the negroni and espresso martini to its specialty concoctions the Tall Poppy and the Golden Gimlet. Check out Archie Rose's Virtual Experiences program and order yourself some top-notch gin over here.
Somehow, entirely inexplicably, we're already thinking about Christmas. And, we suggest rather than schlepping to the typical department stores or your go-to online shops to get your friends, family or yourself a well-deserved gift, instead you could pick out unique goodies at The Big Design Market. The independent designer extravaganza has moved online this year, so you can nab all the top-quality, handmade, ethical and sustainable wares from your couch. With such a wide range of products, you're sure to find something for even the pickiest people on your list. As it's all virtual in 2020, The Big Design Market is combining its (usually) separate Sydney and Melbourne fairs into one epic 12-day event, featuring more than 200 makers, designers and small creative businesses. Acting as a gateway to each maker's store, the online edition will ensure 100 percent of profits go back to the designer, too, so you can support local while crossing off your Christmas list. It's win-win. Running from Wednesday, November 18 till Sunday, November 29, The Big Design Market Online's interactive catalogue will feature everything from locally made threads to jewellery, furniture, art, textiles, homewares, puzzles, festive food and drink packs, stationery, leather goods and much more. There'll also be a bunch of virtual activities and experiences, plus daily showbag giveaways (valued $300-800), filled to the brim with gorgeous goodies. Just head here for details. The Big Design Market has moved online this year and will take place from November 18–29. Check out all the designers involved — and get a head start on your Christmas shopping — via the website. Lead image: Amelia Stanwix
UPDATE, December 23, 2020: The Midnight Sky is screening in select cinemas in Melbourne, and will also be available to stream via Netflix from Wednesday, December 23. It has been four years since George Clooney last appeared in a movie, dating back to 2016's Hail, Caesar! and Money Monster. Accordingly, while The Midnight Sky definitely isn't a documentary, the fact that it features the actor at his most bearded and reclusive instantly feels fitting. Also noteworthy: that this sci-fi drama joins the small but significant list of films that combine the star and space, following Solaris and Gravity. Clooney has everything from TV medical dramas and sitcoms to heist flicks, action fare, rom-coms and a stint as Batman on his resume, of course. He's a versatile actor, and an Oscar-winning one, too (for 2005's Syriana). But there's something particularly alluring and absorbing about seeing Clooney get existential, as all movies that reach beyond earth's surface tend to. He clearly agrees, because he not only leads The Midnight Sky but also directs it as well. Clooney plays workaholic research scientist Dr Augustine Lofthouse and, although The Midnight Sky rockets into space, it doesn't send its protagonist there. Instead, in 2049, after an environmental disaster has made the planet uninhabitable, he chooses to remain in the Arctic as his colleagues evacuate. He's dying anyway, and frequently hooks himself up to machines for treatment — in between downing whiskey, watching old movies, eating cereal and talking to himself. Then, interrupting his lonely decline, two things change his status quo. Firstly, a young girl (debutant Caoilinn Springall) mysteriously pops up out of nowhere, refusing to speak but obviously needing an adult's care. Secondly, Augustine realises that he'll have to trek across the oppressively icy terrain outside to connect via radio to a crew on the spaceship Aether, who've been on a two-year mission to ascertain whether newly discovered Jupiter moon K-23 can support life, and are now making their return unaware of what's been happening at home The space movie genre is as busy as the sky above is vast. Consequently, films about folks marooned in the great black expanse, dealing with the fallout of a pioneering journey and/or trying to make contact — whether those in space's depths are attempting to chat to earth, trying to find others lost in the same situation, or being sought by the people left on terra firma — reach screens every year. The Midnight Sky proves familiar as a result; if you've watched Clooney's other space-set features, or Interstellar, The Martian, Ad Astra, Contact or 2001: A Space Odyssey, you'll spy elements you've seen before. Although adapted from Lily Brooks-Dalton's 2016 novel Good Morning, Midnight, that screenwriter Mark L Smith is on scripting duties also adds a number of recognisable components. He penned the screenplay for The Revenant, another tale of survival against an unwelcoming terrain. Here, he has graduated from the wilds of 19th-century America to one of the globe's frostiest and most isolated spots, as well as all that lingers outside of the planet's atmosphere. The Midnight Sky isn't merely an exercise in flinging derivative parts out into the beyond and seeing what comes back, however. The key, both on-and off-screen, is Clooney. When the film spends time with the Aether's astronauts, including the pregnant Sully (Felicity Jones, On the Basis of Sex), ship commander Adewole (David Oyelowo, Gringo), veteran pilot Mitchell (Kyle Chandler, Godzilla: King of the Monsters), and other crew members Sanchez (Demián Bichir, The Grudge) and Maya (Tiffany Boone, Hunters), it's at its most generic. Indeed, when it ventures to space, The Midnight Sky almost screams for either Augustine to head there as well, or for the feature to plummet back down to earth to join him once more. As the movie's focal point, Clooney is as soulful and grizzled as he's ever been. As a filmmaker, he certainly gifts himself the feature's best moments. But in the latter guise, he's also aware that films about space are films about connection, including to routines and everyday moments — so the fact that Sully and company's exploits feel well-worn, including a climactic sequence involving an action-packed space walk, cleverly reinforces that idea. Unmistakably, this is a big-thinking and big-feeling feature. Its characters grapple with life, love and loss — aka what it means to be human, and to have lived — while also confronting the reality that the world they know is changing forever. It's purely coincidental, but The Midnight Sky overflows with 2020-esque inclusions, too. Having your sense of normality ripped away, spending time alone trying to reach out to others, and endeavouring to find a route back to the existence we once knew but may never again in quite the same way couldn't be more relatable (and that's just from the pandemic; parallels with climate change are also unsurprisingly rife). Amidst the obligatory outer space sing-alongs, as well as the smattering of life-and-death incidents, these concepts land as thoughtfully as intended. It helps that, spanning not only himself but also Jones, Oyelowo, Chandler, Bichir and Boone, Clooney has amassed an impressive cast. His co-stars mightn't be playing the most fleshed-out figures, script-wise, and may not match the actor/director in terms of screen presence, but the same uncertainty and yearning lingers in their portrayals. The script's use of flashbacks to Augustine's past are less convincing, as is their importance to The Midnight Sky's third act via a plot development that's easy to predict. Alexandre Desplat's (Little Women) score also falls on the heavy-handed side, stressing the mood and tone in an unnecessarily forceful way — especially given that Martin Ruhe's (Catch-22) cinematography is aptly pensive and probing, particularly in its earth-bound visuals. Still, Clooney is a skilled filmmaker. He has demonstrated that again and again since he first jumped behind the lens with 2002's excellent Confessions of a Dangerous Mind and 2005's masterful Good Night, and Good Luck, and it's clear here as well. The Midnight Sky isn't his greatest achievement as a director in general or as an actor in a space flick, but it's an involving, engaging and poignant addition to his resume on both counts. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gb8ZbP6qAzE&feature=youtu.be
Home may mean different things to different people but, in Monsoon, Vietnam doesn't mean home to Kit (Henry Golding). He was born there, in the aftermath of the war. He spent his earliest years in the Asian nation, with his parents caught up in the aftermath of the conflict. But when he was still a child, his family left for a refugee camp in Hong Kong and then moved permanently to London. Now, as an adult who has lived the bulk of his existence far away, he returns for the first time to bring back his mother's and father's ashes. He's instantly thrown off balance upon his arrival, whether he's driving through moped-filled streets or walking around crowded markets. Little of what he remembers is the same — his old house and his neighbourhood stomping grounds, particularly — and he doesn't recall as much as his childhood best friend Lee (David Tran), who stayed behind, would clearly like. Of what he does recollect, some crucial details clash with Lee's versions, too. As Kit roves around Saigon and then Hanoi — his place of birth and his parents' original home, respectively — he's searching for a connection. He'll make one, but not in the way he expects. Monsoon tells a noticeably slight tale, but Cambodian-born Chinese British writer/director Hong Khaou (Lilting) is keenly and overwhelmingly aware that a sense of belonging doesn't simply come with one's birth certificate. Kit wants to feel like he's where he's supposed to be. He wants to appreciate his homeland, and its significance to his mum and dad, as effortlessly as he appreciates his online dates. But it takes time, immersion and a true willingness to feel an affinity to the place he's supposed to call home. It takes falling in love with one of those online dates, American ex-pat Lewis (Parker Sawyers), too, and hearing about the object of his affection's complicated relationship with Vietnam as the son of a soldier who fought for the US during the war. Khaou is a minimalistic filmmaker, in a sense. He delves into straightforward scenarios, and knows that he needn't layer them with too many external complicating factors. In other words, he's cognisant that merely examining how a person copes — even in a very commonplace situation — can deliver several lifetimes worth of complexity without a wealth of other narrative roadblocks or setbacks. Here, that means tagging along as Kit flits around Saigon, sorts through his awkward baggage with Lee, and makes a pilgrimage to Hanoi in search of the perfect resting place for his parents. It also means watching as he befriends local art curator Linh (Molly Harris) and follows her home to join her relatives as they make lotus tea, and soaking in the neon-lit bar hues and misty seaside cafe views on Kit's dates with Lewis. Monsoon revels in these moments, and in what they reveal about its protagonist, all while showing how Kit himself recognises that he's changing and connecting with each experience and realisation. As a result, both Khaou and Monsoon ask a significant amount of Golding — more than his previous charisma-driven roles in Crazy Rich Asians, A Simple Favour and Last Christmas have combined. Viewers of those three films already know that he can radiate charm like few other actors currently appearing on-screen. Indeed, because he served up such a magnetic presence in that trio of flicks, it's easy to forget that he only has seven movies to his name to-date (six of which hail from the past three years, in fact). But Monsoon requires Golding's soulful best; at every moment, he's tasked with conveying the potent thoughts and jumbled emotions swelling inside Kit, and with doing so largely without dialogue. It's a quietly powerful performance, and it's one that the movie steadfastly needs. Actually, it's one that Monsoon depends upon. All of the film's key players are superb — including second-time actor Tran (Farewell, Berlin Wall), the also charismatic Sawyers (who played a young Barack Obama in Southside with You) and Harris (Artemis Fowl) as the pragmatic Linh — but Golding is its emotionally saturating core. While it might be light on talk, making its chatter count whenever it flows either freely or nervously, Monsoon is big on atmosphere. Alongside Khaou's delicately pared-back approach and Golding's tenderly gripping performance, that's one of the film's strongest assets. Even if you've never roamed far beyond the spot where you entered this world, everyone can relate to feeling like an outsider somewhere where they think they shouldn't — and Monsoon nails and expresses that sensation again and again. That's how Khaou and cinematographer Benjamin Kracun (Beats) approach the movie in their naturalistic visuals, too. Whether staring down at the daily hustle and bustle, or dwarfing Golding via his surroundings, it views Vietnam as someone might view a childhood memory that's slipping from their mind. Accordingly, Monsoon feels comfortable and intimate and eye-opening and new all at once, like it's seeing a familiar sight properly for the first time. Of course, that's Kit's journey, as it is for anyone embarking upon a homecoming that feels foreign — and it proves immensely affecting viewing. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ETK0fOKwJNQ
If a fresh bun, an expertly grilled patty and a slice of melted cheese is your idea of a perfect meal, then you might just have to permanent marker October 29 in your diary. Why? There are going to be a whole heap of cheap burgers to snatch up. Melbourne chain Burger Project is turning five and celebrating by grilling $5 cheeseburgers at all three of its local stores all day on Tuesday, October 29. Head to St Collins Place, Chadstone or Bourke Street, and grab a bargain (or, depending on how hungry you are, several). For those new to Burger Project's take on an old fave, Neil Perry's eatery whips up a hand-pressed slab of Cape Grim beef, layers it with pickles, onion, mustard and cheese, then squirts on some secret sauce. Next, it's all placed between a soft milk bun. And it tastes even better when it's less than half the regular price.
Twelve months is a long time to wait between film festivals. Don't worry — the folks behind Melbourne's annual queer cinema showcase feel your pain. While the Melbourne Queer Film Festival usually only runs in March, this year it's giving LGBTQIA movie buffs a little something extra, thanks to a three-day feast of flicks between Friday, October 4 and Sunday, October 6. Called Melbourne Queer Film Festival Extra, and designed to become an annual end-of-year highlight, this bonus mini-festival will serve up ten features and two shorts programs for its inaugural run. And, while it's definitely a bite-sized affair, it's all about quality rather than quantity. Screening at Cinema Nova, MQFF Extra kicks off with Pedro Almodovar's sublime Pain and Glory, starring Antonio Banderas in his Cannes Film Festival Best Actor-winning role. You can also swoon over Celine Sciamma's glorious Portrait of a Lady on Fire, see comedian Simon Amstell turn filmmaker with Benjamin, and explore the story of a British transgender man's quest to deliver his own child in Seahorse. Or, step back into the past via two movies with high-profile stars: Vita and Virginia, featuring Elizabeth Debicki as Virginia Woolf and Gemma Arterton as Vita Sackville-West; and Lizzie, with Chloë Sevigny playing accused murderer Lizzie Borden opposite Kristen Stewart.
Australia's touring celebration of genre cinema, Monster Fest loves all things weird and wonderful on the big screen. From outback-set horror flicks to eye-popping remakes to strange Lovecraftian tales, this festival fills its program with horror, sci-fi, and anything else that's dark and twisted — and likely destined for a cult following. Starting in Melbourne back in 2011 and still unleashing its biggest lineup in the city, this excuse to spend plenty of time in a darkened room has quite the 2019 program, too. From opening night's 3 From Hell, aka Rob Zombie's latest ultra-gory crime effort, to closing night's Ready or Not and its story of a wedding night turned bloody, you'd best prepare for plenty offbeat treats. Other standouts include Rabid, which sees the Soska sisters fashion their own version of David Cronenberg's classic; Color Out of Space, complete with Nicholas Cage going crazy; and a restoration of 2000 Australian slasher flick Cut, which stars Kylie Minogue. A word of warning: if you like your movies happy and chirpy, this isn't your kind of festival. If you're eager for the exact opposite, Monster Fest takes over Cinema Nova from Thursday, October 10 to Friday, October 18.
Did you turn green with envy when Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger played the ultimate scavenger hunt, aka hunting down horcruxes? Have you always felt that you could use your magical skills in the same way? The City of Melbourne understands and — given that it's already in the grip of wizard fever thanks to Harry Potter and the Cursed Child — it's giving Potter fans quite the Christmas present. On Sunday, December 15, the Magical Christmas Quest will take over the CBD. At 9am, the first clue will be revealed on the quest website — and at 10am, it's time to start 'accio'-ing your heart out. You'll search your way around the city, heading to six Melbourne locations, solving riddles and completing missions at each stop. And as you've probably guessed, you'll be getting into the Harry Potter and the Christmas spirit all at once. [caption id="attachment_674451" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Harry Potter and The Cursed Child by Manuel Harlan[/caption] Expect to be rewarded for your efforts, too. Sorry, you won't win a trip to Hogwarts — but the major prize-winner will nab a hefty haul. On offer is a VIP Harry Potter and the Cursed Child experience, which includes a pair of tickets to the both parts of the show, backstage access, a night's accommodation and a pre-show dinner for two at Sofitel Melbourne, plus a $500 Myer gift voucher (which you can use at the magical new Harry Potter store). We can't all be the Boy Who Lived — or the Person Who Wins the Quest, more accurately — but ten runners up will score a $100 Gift Finder voucher. You can play as a team or individually and dressing up as your favourite HP character is, of course, encouraged. Everyone who participates will go in the draw to win. The first clue revealed at 9am on the quest website. Image: Harry Potter & The Cursed Child at the Princess Theatre.
UPDATE, November 20, 2020: Maiden is available to stream via Netflix, Google Play, YouTube Movies and iTunes. "Her name is Tracy Edwards, and her dream is to compete in the world's toughest yacht race with the world's first all-women crew." They're the words of a British television presenter in the mid-80s and, as seen in documentary Maiden, they're dripping with condescension. Edwards decided to enter an entirely female team into the prestigious Whitbread Round the World yachting race after first taking part in 1985–86, when she was the cook to an all-male group. During that initial voyage, she was treated poorly — unsurprisingly given the era and the sport's male bias at the time. But those patronising, dismissive, chauvinistic attitudes and insults were like a red rag to a bull, motivating the passionate lover of the open sea to compete again on her own terms. The only way for Edwards to truly sail the 33,000 nautical miles from Southampton, England, and back — via Uruguay, Western Australia, New Zealand, Uruguay again and then America — was to recruit 11 other women to make the journey with her. The 27-year-old knew she'd be instantly mocked, and mocked she was. She assembled a committed crew of women for the 1989–90 contest, and found a boat called Maiden, but no one would sponsor them, support them or even take them seriously. In the media, they were mercilessly made fun of ("tin full of tarts," one journalist called them). In the yachting realm, their male peers bet that they wouldn't finish the race's first leg, let alone all six over its eight-month duration. At every turn, they were belittled, underestimated and considered a sideshow (and when they dared to be seen in swimsuits at one point on their watery trek, they were also shamelessly objectified). With this chapter of sporting history now sailing across the cinema screen 30 years later, one thing should be obvious: Maiden's voyage through the Whitbread race is a story worth telling. It's the ultimate underdog tale, as well as a rallying cry against sexism that's no less relevant today than when the fearless skipper and her dedicated crew hit the seas. As chronicled via archival clips and contemporary interviews by filmmaker Alex Holmes, his doco makes all of the above plain, giving this plucky story and the gutsy gals who made it happen the treatment and respect that both deserve. Holmes' task is a relatively easy one, admittedly; with real-life events this gripping, this tale almost tells itself. Recognising this fact, the director steps through the specifics in a linear, unfussy but deftly edited fashion, deploying the formidable Edwards as his anchor. He starts with her backstory, explores how teenage rebellion led her to the freedom of venturing across the world's oceans, and then follows her Whitbread efforts — from her initial inspiration to the white-knuckle on-the-boat reality in the team's secondhand vessel once the race began. Even when the film leans heavily on talking heads, the details are riveting; however the documentary steps up a gear once it weaves grainy home-video footage from Maiden's journey into the mix. Candid and unfettered as it captures women doing battle with the water ("the ocean is always trying to kill you; it doesn't take a break," Edwards notes, looking back), it puts viewers right there on the yacht with the all-female crew. The fist-pumping, cheer-worthy highs and tense, dangerous lows of Maiden's trek are best discovered by watching, with the yacht's trip serving up the kinds of thrills usually penned by Hollywood. Indeed, it's incredibly surprising that a dramatisation hasn't hit the big screen already. Never forgetting or downplaying just how appallingly Edwards and company were treated three decades ago, Holmes' doco does more than simply relive or revel in their tale. Crucially, it also gives the film's subjects a voice, letting them relay the nitty gritty of their experiences in their own way. Back in the 80s, they were asked about squabbles, surviving without makeup and whether a round-the-world yacht race was the best place for the fairer sex, all while the men were were asked about strategies, tactics, skills and accomplishments. Redressing that egregious wrong — and showing the determined sparks still gleaming in these women's eyes — this rousing and exhilarating documentary proves a stellar snapshot of an inspiring feat, a rebuke against gender stereotypes and misogynistic attitudes, and a fierce portrait of persistent ladies telling the world that they'll do whatever they damn well like wherever they damn well like. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kjFXdXSmGZ8
The Coburg Night Market will return for its tenth year and, for the first time, will take place over four consecutive days from Friday, November 28 to Sunday, December 1. Pop over for an al fresco meal — perhaps homestyle Iraqi food from Nohadra's Kitchen, foot-long German sausages from Brat n Roll, Polish dumplings from Pierogi Pierogi, vegan shawarma from Hamsa Hummus Bar or Japanese soufflé pancakes from Kumokumo — and visit one of the two bars for cocktails, wine and beer. Once you've had your dinner, you'll find live music running every day and night. The music has been curated by a different group each day, with College of Knowledge, Stoic Records, Baked Goods and PS Music Group all looking after the tunes for an evening. Some of the artists on the lineup include Danika Smith, Tekwani, Francesca Gonzalez and Sex on Toast DJs. Before you leave, don't forget to peruse the 50 local artisan stalls selling food, homewares, jewellery and more — it's only a few weeks till Christmas, after all. The Coburg Night Market runs from Thursday–Friday 4–9pm and Saturday–Sunday midday–9pm.
It can be hard to wrangle a little peace and calm in amongst the hustle and bustle of the city, but CBD food and retail precinct St Collins Lane has just the fix. It's teamed up with boutique gym Ashley Faithfull Training Studios to launch its very own wellness hub, offering a breather from that fast-paced city life. Located up on Level 1, it's a calming, serene destination that's now offering daily 45-minute meditation and yoga sessions — for just the cost of a gold coin donation. Yep, you can enjoy a little escape, get bendy and de-stress, then head back to the office feeling ultra refreshed, while all spending less than the cost of a coffee. There are classes at 7.30am and 12.15pm each weekday, offering mostly hatha, ashtanga and vinyasa yoga styles, with meditation sessions on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Even better? All proceeds go to The Big Issue, supporting its work helping homeless, marginalised and disadvantaged people. Knock over five classes and you'll also be in with a shot at winning a 12-month Ashley Faithfull membership. We're heading into the busy season, so class spots are sure to be snapped up fast. You'll need to book your mat online to secure a session.
With awards season approaching, the end-of-year flicks are coming in thick and fast. Your to-watch list is getting long, but your wallet doesn't want to play ball. Call Village Cinemas' latest special a case of great timing, then, with the chain offering up discount tickets that'll solve your problem. From Thursday, November 21 until Wednesday, November 27, you'll only pay just $10 for your movie of choice at any of Village's cinemas around Melbourne. Or movies. With everything from Charlie's Angels and Judy to Doctor Sleep and Ready or Not currently screening, there's plenty to watch if you're keen to spend as much time in a darkened room as possible. You'll find Village at Crown, the Jam Factory on Chapel Street, the Rivoli, Sunshine or Century City in Glen Waverley. Tickets for the Coburg Drive-In are also included in the deal. To get the ten-buck tix, you'll have to sign up to Village's Vrewards membership program (it's free). The special isn't available for special events, Gold Class or preview screenings, but you're certain to find something to watch regardless. And you can book online — there's just a $1.40 fee.
UPDATE: May 18, 2020: Good Boys is available to stream via Amazon Prime Video, Foxtel Now, Google Play, YouTube and iTunes. Before the high-schoolers who populate every teen movie start worrying about heading off to college and having sex for the first time, they're tweens with not-too-dissimilar problems. That's the premise behind the familiar but very funny Good Boys, which leans so far into its Superbad-lite status that it has even enlisted Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg as producers. Instead of two horny 17-year-olds, this scaled-down coming-of-age comedy focuses on a trio of sixth graders. Instead of finding its characters on the cusp of graduation, it meets them as they start middle school. And instead of turning up to a lively shindig on a quest to lose their virginity, Good Boys' pre-teen protagonists navigate the age-appropriate equivalent: their first kissing party. The comparisons keep coming, although writer/director Gene Stupnitsky and his co-scribe Lee Eisenberg (the screenwriting duo behind Bad Teacher and Year One) don't just tread in Superbad's footsteps. Good Boys' predecessor boasted more than a little in common with Can't Hardly Wait, which in turn took Dazed and Confused's lead — and they all nodded to American Graffiti before that. Just a couple of months back, Booksmart did something similar too, using a firmly female-focused viewpoint to its advantage. There's not as obvious a point of difference here, with tween and teen boys getting mixed up in almost the same types of situations. But what Good Boys lacks in originality or perspective, it makes up for in charm, sincerity and a stellar cast of young talent. In a few years, Max (Jacob Tremblay), Thor (Brady Noon) and Lucas (Keith L. Williams) could relive these kinds of hijinks at the end of their high-school days — a thought that's probably crossed Stupnitsky, Eisenberg, Rogen and Goldberg's minds — but for now, they just want to be liked by the cool kids in their grade. And that seems possible after the lifelong buddies score a coveted invite to Soren's (Izaac Wang) pashing party. Alas, while Max is driven by his all-consuming crush on classmate Brixlee (Millie Davis), his friends have their own troubles. Thor is desperate to nab a role in the school production of Rock of Ages, but also desperate to seem like he doesn't care, while the gleefully dorky Lucas is struggling with news of his parents' (Retta and Lil Rel Howery) impending divorce. Plus, when the pals aren't trying to brush up on puckering up, they're unwittingly getting involved in drug deals with Max's older neighbour Hannah (Molly Gordon) and her bestie Lily (Midori Francis). Much of Good Boys' humour hits instantly and flows easily, as kids say the darnedest things in highly inappropriate circumstances — searching for "porb" and mistaking sex toys for weapons, for example. As the film's marketing campaign made a point of stressing, this may be a picture about children, but it definitely isn't for them in any shape or form. There's a more resonant layer to the gags, too — which, in a movie that spends plenty of time giggling as its central tweens swear, might not immediately seem the case. To see Max, Thor and Lucas not just face the reality that they're growing up, but explore an adult world that feels so strange and different to their pre-teen grasp on reality, is to remember the confusing ups and downs of going through the same process yourself. That said, this isn't a mere exercise in raucousness and nostalgia shaped around episodic antics, such as skipping school, sipping beers and running away from cops. Like Booksmart before it, Good Boys grounds its jokes, narrative and outlook in today's cultural and societal standards. In other words: goodbye lazy stereotypes and outdated views, and hello inclusiveness, emotional intelligence, and seeing these boys learn to respect women, themselves and each other. Stupnitsky and Eisenberg are still guilty of padding out the picture with a few too many recognisable scenarios, even with its brief 90-minute running time. But their film glows with authenticity nonetheless — because, for all the outlandishness they encounter, these kids always react in realistic ways. As much as Good Boys has an affable, genuine vibe on its side, it wouldn't work quite as well without its three child stars. Room's Tremblay, Boardwalk Empire's Noon and The Last Man on Earth's Williams not only sell their rapport, but play their parts with honesty and earnestness — and without a hint of precociousness. The bike-riding trio also shrugs off a Stranger Things insult, in a line that speaks beyond pop culture's current obsession with plucky children (see also: IT and IT: Chapter Two). Swap Good Boys' crudeness for a dash of the supernatural, after all, and this sweet, breezy and amusing film would fit nicely among all those classic 80s adventures. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WeeyM8cRinI
Another boozy outing makes its way onto the Melbourne scene as the revamped CBD haunt State of Grace launches a lavish afternoon tea party — starting this Saturday, December 1 and proceeding every Saturday and Sunday thereafter. The Mad Hatter-themed tea party is on offer from 1–3pm each day, and instead of tea, there'll be bottomless punch bowls and prosecco up for grabs. The punch comes in three rotating (and brightly coloured) flavours, all served in antique-style goblets. It's a decadent affair on the food menu, too. Of the six bite-sized dishes on offer, you'll find caviar and crème fraîche on a blini; mini duck parfait toasties with a gin and juice jam; and Yarra Valley crudité served with Four Pillars gin and herb cream. Dessert is a eton mess with meringue and lemon curd pots. All in, it'll cost you $55 per person for the two hours. Bookings are necessary and you can see the full menu here. State of Grace's Afternoon Tea Party runs from 1–3pm every Saturday and Sunday.
If you, like us, are a big fan of cheese, you'll know the tasty hobby can get a bit pricey. From stocking up on wheels of brie to splashing out on truffled gouda, going out for a night of oozy raclette and buying legit Parmigiano-Reggiano, things start to add up. Luckily, the dairy-loving folks at Meredith Dairy want to help. They're bringing back their super-popular Bucket Bonanza Sale just in time for the holidays — so your Christmas, and New Year, can be cheesier than ever. At the sale, two-kilogram buckets of the brand's award-winning goat's cheese will be going for only $50 a pop. The smooth, salty, spreadable cubes come marinated in a blend of olive oil, garlic and herbs. To put that price into perspective, the 550-gram jars at Woolies go for a whopping $20 each. The only catch is that the sale is located a little out of the city, at Meredith's distribution centre in Truganina (about a 40-minute drive from the city). But we think it's worth it — this is one tasty sale you won't want to miss. Meredith Dairy's Bucket Bonanza Sale will run from 11am–2pm.
Dogs. Pups. Pooches. Floofs. Pupparoos. Whatever you call them, you probably love 'em. And this Saturday you can hang out with a whole heap of them for free at the RACV Pawtrait Pup-Up. From 10am–2pm, Fitzroy's Edinburgh Gardens will be transformed into a dog-filled paradise, complete with agility courses for dogs, animal treats (and a barbecue for humans), giveaways and a pop-up portrait studio for your furry friend. Yep, you can finally get your pup a headshot. Dog Photog Studios will be on hand to snap a pic of your pooch in one of many colourful outfits — for free. And while the photography session is complimentary, spots are limited, so we suggest you head in earlier rather than later. RACV Pawtrait Pup-Up will run from 10am–2pm in the off-leash area of Edinburgh Gardens. Images: Courtesy of Dog Photog.
Following the announcement of its upcoming relocation to an even bigger location, Mukka has decided to give back to its loyal diners. To celebrate Mukka's Fitzroy soft relaunch on Friday, November 24, ahead of its official grand opening on Saturday, December 2, the popular eatery will be slinging a huge discount to dine-in customers. Head into Mukka's brand-new location for dinner from Wednesday, November 29 to score 50 percent off your bill. This exciting offer will allow diners – both new and old — to enjoy all of the much-loved street eats, flavour-filled dosas, hearty curries and incredibly cheesy naan that Mukka is known for. You'll get to enjoy all of its beloved familiar favourites alongside some enticing additions to the menu, including new punchy specials hot off the sleek new charcoal grill. Plus, when you opt to dine in, you'll be one of the first to experience the vibrant decor sourced directly from India and handpicked by co-owner Kabir Singh. There's also a five-metre-long feasting table and Melbourne's first-ever Bollywood-themed bar, which boasts a gorgeous mural dedicated to the iconic Bollywood film, Sholay. This exclusive offer is only available for one week and will be running until Friday, November 24, so head over to Mukka's reservations page to book your spot.
