If you like piña coladas, then sipping your favourite drink doesn't usually involve drinking margaritas as well. The key word: usually. From Monday, January 8–Sunday, February 11 at El Camino Cantina, the two cocktails are joining forces in a range of margarita-piña colada hybrids. Meet the Tex-Mex chain's ritacoladas, which are exactly what they sound like — and keep levelling up the brand's approach to margs. As Gelato Messina does with frozen desserts, El Camino Cantina takes inspiration far and wide from other beloved foodstuffs. In the past, candy-flavoured 'ritas, Long Island iced tea-flavoured margs, soft drink-influenced tipples and Vodka Cruiser versions have all been on the menu. Curious? On offer at the chain's Fitzroy venue: nine flavours of ritacoladas in 15-ounce ($24) and 24-ounce ($28) servings. Because pairing two cocktails in one beverage isn't enough, each drink also combines two flavours, keeping coconut a staple in every option. So, you can go for blueberry and coconut, peach and coconut, watermelon and coconut, and grape and coconut — or green apple, lychee, passionfruit, mango and strawberry with coconut as well.
Got a mate who is mildly obsessed with dressing their pup up for Christmas? You best flick this event their way. The Welcome to Thornbury folks are rewarding such dog owners from 12–3pm on Sunday, December 17 with a Merry Dogs of Darebin party. The dog-friendly bar is giving away treats to all the four-legged attendees, throwing a competition for the best-dressed pooch and letting you take some snaps in the festive photo booth. For many, this might seem like overkill, but dog lovers are another breed — and we totally understand this energy. Human food will be on the cards as well, with 400 Gradi and Mr Burger food trucks parked out back in the sun-soaked beer garden. Throughout the day, the team will also be collecting donations for the Lost Dogs Home, spreading the puppy love this Christmas. You don't have to be a dog owner to attend Merry Dogs of Darebin at Welcome to Thornbury. You can just rock up for the food, drinks and people (and pet)-watching.
Which cravings will Wonka inspire? Chocolate, of course, and also an appetite for more of filmmaker Paul King's blend of the inventive, warm-hearted and surreal. The British writer/director's chocolatier origin story is a sweet treat from its first taste, and firmly popped from the same box as his last two movie delights: Paddington and Paddington 2. Has the helmer used a similar recipe to his talking-bear pictures? Yes. Was it divine with that double dip in marmalade, and now equally so with creative confectionery and the man behind it? Yes again. While it'd be nice to see King and his regular writing partner Simon Farnaby (also an actor, complete with an appearance here) make an original tale again, as they last did with 2009's superb and sublime Bunny and the Bull, watching them cast their spell on childhood favourites dishes up as effervescent an experience as sipping fizzy lifting drinks. It's as uplifting as munching on hover chocs, too, aka the debut creation that Wonka's namesake unveils in his attempt to unleash his chocolates upon the world. Willy Wonka (Timothée Chalamet, Bones and All) has everlasting gobstobbers, golden tickets and a whole factory pumping out a sugary rush in his future, as Roald Dahl first shared in 1964 novel Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, then cinemagoers initially saw in 1971's Gene Wilder-starring all-timer Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. Wonka churns up the story before that story, and technically before 2005's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory from Tim Burton (Wednesday) as led by Johnny Depp (Minamata) — but the less remembered about that most-recent adaptation, the better. There's no on-the-page precedent for this flick, then. Rather, King and Farnaby use pure imagination, plus what they know works for them, to delectable results. What they welcomely avoid is endeavouring to melt down Dahl's bag of tricks and remould it, and also eschew packing in references to past Chocolate Factory flicks like a cookie that's more chocolate chips than biscuit. Wonka is a prequel devoted to telling its own tale — and deliciously — instead of stretching itself like over-chewed bubblegum to stick again and again to all that precedes it. The nods are there, including in the type of villains that Dahl could've penned, and the turns of phrase. Visual minutiae harks backwards, top hat and all, while 'Pure Imagination' and the Ooompa-Loompa flute whistle get more than a single spin. In the worst of the throwbacks, obesity is used as a gag once more like over half a century hasn't passed since Willy Wonka was conjured up. But they're all the feature's sprinkles, not its main ingredients. Come to Wonka and you'll be viewing a film that values its own narrative, magic, whimsy and wonders by the bucketful. Swimming in its river of hopes, aspirations, enchantment and earnestness brings Barbie to mind, in fact, in how to bake something new and flavoursome from pre-existing intellectual property. The trailers largely hide it; however, Wonka is as much of a musical as pop culture's greatest sweet tooth's prior dances across the screen, opening with him singing as he sails to the unnamed European locale that's home to the Galeries Gourmet. Once back on land, he's soon spent his 12 silver sovereigns before a day has passed and his introductory number is over, but the eccentric's hat full of dreams — a Mary Poppins-esque item that contains all manner of physical marvels, too — hasn't come close to running out. Mere minutes in, Chalamet shows how magnificently he's been cast as the wide-eyed, eternally optimistic, crooning-with-cheer young Wonka, wearing sincerity as closely and comfortably as his character's go-to purple suits. He's a daydream made tangible, whether beaming with enthusiasm about every chance that comes Willy's way, speaking in sing-song rhymes or frolicking with a waved-around cane. Never trying to be previous versions of Wonka (no one can replicate Wilder, and no one should want to ape Depp), he's a pleasure at getting goofy as well, sans even a dash of the exquisitely played moodiness, vulnerability and cool that's served him so well in Call Me By Your Name, Lady Bird, Little Women and Dune. At Willy's new home, three shops run by Slugworth (Paterson Joseph, Boat Story), Prodnose (Matt Lucas, DC's Legends of Tomorrow) and Fickelgruber (Mathew Baynton, Ghosts) monopolise the sweets trade, but he wants to be the mall's next candyman. The chocolate cartel doesn't take kindly to newcomers, though, or making treats affordable to the masses. With assistance from a corrupt cleric (Rowan Atkinson, Man vs Bee) and chocoholic chief of police (Keegan-Michael Key, The Super Mario Bros Movie), the core trio has the power and influence to send their unwanted competitor's life's wish down the drain before it even gets a chance to set. Finding a place to stay at a washhouse run by Mrs Scrubbit (Olivia Colman, Heartstopper) and her offsider Bleacher (Tom Davis, Romantic Getaway), then getting landed with a debt that'll take 27 years of labour to pay off for just a night's slumber, also threatens to give his quest a sour taste. Then there's the orange-skinned, green-haired Oompa-Loompa (Hugh Grant, Dungeons & Dragons: Honour Among Thieves) stealing Wonka's cocoa morsels out of revenge. All innocence, charm, buoyancy and tenderness just like a certain Peruvian mammal, Chalamet's star turn is the acting equivalent of having dessert for dinner and relishing every second. That said, there's nothing insubstantial about the fellow talents that surround him, with King's knack for filling parts big and small getting another scrumptious whirl. If the filmmaker wants to continue providing Grant with the scene-stealing comedic supporting roles of his life, audiences will devour his presence. Bringing Sally Hawkins over from the Paddington films to play Wonka's mother in flashbacks is a joyously touching move. Joseph, Lucas and Bayton make entertainingly haughty villains, while Key, Colman and Davis (also a Paddington 2 alum) are all having a ball. Farnaby turns a silhouetted moment as a security guard feasting on Willy's big night out truffle into a gem. And among Scrubbit and Bleacher's other indentured workers, Calah Lane (This Is Us) invests feeling and pluck in the orphaned Noodle, with Jim Carter (Downton Abbey: A New Era), Rakhee Thakrar (Sex Education), Natasha Rothwell (Sonic the Hedgehog 2) and Rich Fulcher (Black Mirror) engagingly rounding out the rag-tag laundry crew. Fulcher's involvement, like Farnaby's, nods to another jewel that King helped gift the world: The Mighty Boosh. The director helmed all 20 episodes, plus the comedy troupe's live Future Sailors Tour special — and its phantasmagorical and heightened vibe, as well as its winning wit, offbeat humour, fondness for silliness and textured details, live on in the filmmaker's big-screen efforts so far. Much is made in Wonka of Willy's compendium of components for his ingenious chocolate, such as giraffe's milk, salty tears from a Russian clown and liquid sunshine. King crafts his own irresistible confection in the same way, with heapings of gorgeous spectacle via its lavish cinematography (by the OG Oldboy's Chung-hoon Chung), production design (Nathan Crowley, Tenet) and costuming (Paddington franchise returnee Lindy Hemming); everything that his actors splash in; and also the memorable score (Joby Talbot, Sing 2) and tunes (Talbot and Neil Hannon, who were both in Northern Ireland-born band The Divine Comedy). And the banding together to bring down capitalist bigwigs dotted in the plot? What a cherry on top it proves.
One of South Melbourne's iconic food celebrations is back for a lip-smacking weekend of music and molluscs. Port Phillip Mussel & Jazz Festival returns to the South Melbourne Market from Saturday, March 9–Sunday, March 10. Once again, the precinct will come alive for a food-focused, tune-filled street party from 11am each day, with the humble mussel as the star of the show. Seafood lovers will find themselves in heaven, feasting through a host of special dishes from resident vendors, plus all the usual market favourites slinging everything from pastries and porchetta rolls to fine cheese and cannoli. The market has once again teamed up with The Nature Conservancy to deliver the Shuck Don't Chuck recycling program — leftover mussel, oyster and scallop shells from the weekend's feasting will be collected, cured and reused to help rebuild marine ecosystems in the bay. As always, there'll also be plenty of fresh catches for entertainment — enjoy soul and jazz tunes on the main stage alongside cooking demonstrations, kid's activities and roving entertainers.
To celebrate the launch of its new gelato cake created in collaboration with Natalie Paull of Beatrix Bakes, Pidapipo — home to some of the best gelato in Melbourne — is giving away 300 free slices on Wednesday, December 6. These will be handed out at the Fitzroy Laboratorio by Natalie Paull herself alongside Pidapipo co-owner Lisa Valmorbida. It's your chance to grab some free cake and meet two legends in Melbourne's dessert world. The new creation is a gelato-filled take on the Beatrix Bakes Peach Alabama sponge cake. It includes delicate layers of peach jam, mascarpone zabaione gelato and poached peach sorbetto — all encased within a marsala-drenched sponge cake. It's then topped with whipped mascarpone cream, slices of poached peaches and a sprinkling of crunchy amaretti biscuits. Peach perfection. The Peach Alabama Gelato Cake is also available for pre-order and will set you back $120. A cake creation this beautiful doesn't come cheap so why not try before you buy at the giveaway event?
Who better than frank, lively and charismatic First Nations artist Richard Bell to sum up what You Can Go Now is truly about: "I am an activist masquerading as an artist," he offers. The Kamilaroi, Kooma, Jiman and Gurang Gurang man says this early in Larissa Behrendt's documentary about him, because he and the Eualayai/Gamillaroi After the Apology and Araatika: Rise Up! filmmaker both know how essential and inescapable that truth is. They're not here to reveal that Bell's art is layered with statements. Neither is the feature itself. Rather, in a powerful instant must-see of an Australian doco, they explore and contextualise what it means for Bell to be an activist spreading his advocacy for the country's First Peoples around the world by being an artist, especially when the Aboriginal art realm is so often dominated by white interests. They address and examine not just what Bell's work says but why, what it responds to and how it's significant on a variety of levels, including diving deep into the personal, national and global history — and modern-day reality — informing it. Seeing what Bell's art literally expresses — simply taking it in, as splashed across the screen instead of hanging in a gallery — is still crucial to Behrendt's film, of course. In an array of pieces that frequently use heated words on intricately and colourfully painted canvases, his work utters plenty. "I am not sorry". "Give it all back." "We were here first." "Ask us what we want". "Aboriginal art — it's a white thing." Among these and other declarations, You Can Go Now's title gets a mention, too. Every piece sighted — works that riff on and continue a dialogue with styles synonymous with American artists Roy Lichtenstein and Jackson Pollock among them — conveys Bell's activist-artist raison d'être overtly, unflinchingly and unmistakably. Excellent art doesn't end conversations, however, but continues them, pushes them further and prompts more questions. Not that this is You Can Go Now's main takeaway, but Bell makes excellent art, with Behrendt helping to fuel and unpack the discussion. It's impossible to peer at Bell's work without feeling its anger and frustration, sharing that ire and exasperation as well, and wanting a great many things — more details about his creations, the fair and just treatment of Indigenous Australians that should already be a given anyway, and to live in a world where the nation's traumatic past isn't what it is, for starters. It's also impossible to watch Behrendt's unfurling of the circumstances behind the artist's art, which intertwines Bell's own story, Australia since British colonisation and the fight against racial oppression globally, without appreciating the immense importance of his work. He boasts accolades and international acclaim, but nothing cements the potency of Bell's efforts like Bell. Hearing him talk about his childhood, then witnessing what those formative experiences have inspired: it's what this doco thrives on. So it is that You Can Go Now listens to Bell describe growing up in a tin shack in central Queensland, where he lived until he was a teen, only for it to be bulldozed by the government eight months after the 1967 referendum recognising Indigenous Australians as citizens. In tandem, the movie watches him recreate such a shanty, run it down, film it and play that video piece in another tin shed installed at the Castello di Rivoli Museo d'Arte Contemporanea in Turin in Italy. With a broader view, You Can Go Now enjoys Bell's paintings of key images from the fights for rights at home and in the US, then shows the photographs that Bell draws upon. And, it steps through the history of the Aboriginal Tent Embassy as a protest, plus Bell's replica Embassy — which has been displaying and hosting chats in Brisbane, Sydney, Adelaide, Perth, Cairns, Moscow, Jakarta, New York, Venice, Kassel in Germany and more, and adds London's famed Tate Modern to its stops in 2023. Also filling this deftly penned, directed, shot (by The Dreamlife of Georgie Stone's Vincent Lamberti) and edited (by 2040's Jane Usher) film: addresses by the infectiously engaging Bell to camera, letting his playful but determined personality shine; text on-screen to emphasise the most pressing takeaways in his monologues; a cast of talking-head interviewees, spanning everyone from his Brisbane gallerist Josh Milani to friend and activist Gary Foley, plus current Federal Minister for Indigenous Australians Linda Burney; and a wealth of archival footage. Behrendt's approach is straightforward, but made dynamic and gripping through her subject, his story, the history behind both and the snippets focused on. And while Bell is an executive producer, ensuring this is his vision of himself, that doesn't make the end result any less thoughtful, passionate or compelling. In the feature's big picture, a portrait emerges of First Nations activism spread across half a century, both heartbreakingly and vitally so. In its Bell-centric guise, so too does a chronicle of activism channelled into his art to keep agitating for change, recognition and a better future. You Can Go Now's snapshot of both is thorough, so much so that it adds another want to its audience's list: wanting more time to sift through it all, something that no lone 82-minute documentary can deliver. Thankfully, this movie has company elsewhere in fellow docos such as Firestarter — The Story of Bangarra and Wash My Soul in the River's Flow. The former hones in on the pioneering and applauded Indigenous dance theatre, the latter on iconic musicians Ruby Hunter and Archie Roach, and both also survey Australia's attitudes towards its Traditional Owners, the creativity such a history has sparked, and how those resulting works are pieces of activism through and through. Indeed, You Can Go Now slides into stellar company, and into an expanding group of Aussie documentaries that will never lose their urgency as similar flicks keep emerging. Not that they can't stand alone, or don't, but You Can Go Now and its cohort actually gain strength from the fact that they're relaying a common tale. The impact of Australia's colonisation, and the prejudice and persecution that has followed, is vast. It always requires constant interrogation and confrontation. Across a life that's traversed gaining a political voice on Redfern's streets, working for the Aboriginal Legal Service, winning the 20th Telstra National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Art Awards, and gatecrashing the 2019 Venice Biennale, too, Bell knows this — and so does this filmic tribute.
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas — and as 2022 comes to a close, it's also the perfect time to celebrate everyone's favourite wizarding franchise. 2022 marks 21 years since all things Harry Potter first brought their magic to the big screen, so recognising the occasion while getting festive is the ideal way to serve up some extra cheer. You can obviously accio up your own commemorations whenever and however you like — or you can head along to the returning Christmas in the Wizarding World in Federation Square. Taking place from 4pm on Friday, December 16, it'll combine a whole heap of ways to celebrate HP in Melbourne, including a virtual wand combat workshop and competing at Harry Potter trivia. From 7pm, there'll also be a big-screen showing of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Wand combat choreographer Paul Harris is overseeing all that stick waving, complete with a prize for the best moves. Plus, there'll also be gongs for dressing up to attend the event — for Best Dressed Individual, Best Dressed Couple and Best Group Effort. Like getting a Harry Potter fix in Lego form? You can get building while you're there, and purchase some brick sets to take home. And, for snaps, there'll be Platform 9 and 3/4, Hogwarts Express and quidditch-themed photo opportunities. Entry is free, including hitting up the Wizarding World Reading Corner if your favourite Harry Potter experience will always be on the page. Just remember that Christmas in the Wizarding World is open to wannabe witches and wizards of all ages, so you'll have pint-sized company.
Art, music and top-notch local booze are colliding to deliver your ultimate Sunday session this summer, at Linden New Art. The St Kilda gallery is here to help you wrap up your week with all of the above, with its new Gospel Sundays series running weekly from January 15–February 5. Head along from 12.30pm each weekend to lounge on the lawns as you soak up live tunes curated by Live N Local, with local acts like Tamara & the Dreams, The Gas Babies and Lemon Daze all set to hit the lineup. [caption id="attachment_884638" align="alignnone" width="1920"] The Gospel Whisky, by Shelley Xue[/caption] To match, the pop-up bar will be showcasing a range of rye-based sips courtesy of Brunswick's own The Gospel Whisky — a rising-star distillery crafting rye whisky from all-Aussie grain. And of course, while you're there, you can take a stroll through the gallery to check out its latest offering, which currently includes the famed annual Linden Postcard Show. Entry to Gospel Sundays is free, with drinks available to purchase from the bar. [caption id="attachment_884636" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Theresa Harrison[/caption] Top Image: Shelley Xue
Ted Lasso fans, rejoice — the Magic Mike franchise is taking its lead from the hit sitcom now. Swap soccer for stripping, obviously. From there, the sports-themed favourite and Magic Mike's Last Dance both transport their namesakes to London, then give them jobs under wealthy women managing publicly beloved assets after bitter marriage breakdowns, all as those ladies try to spite their exes while also finding themselves and sorting out their lives. In the third film in the Channing Tatum (Bullet Train)-starring series, there's a team to oversee featuring players from around the globe, too, plus a gruff butler doing his best not-AI Roy Kent impression. And, it all climaxes with a showcase event demanding dedicated training. That said, only this exceptionally choreographed but never earth-shattering flick fills its final quarter with wall-to-wall gyrating, including a male-revue number soundtracked by 1998 Dandy Warhols' single 'Boys Better' that has to be seen to be believed. New Magic Mike movie splashing glistening chiselled abs across the screen, same Magic Mike, though. Tatum and filmmaker Steven Soderbergh (Kimi) — the prolific creative force who helmed, shot and spliced the first instalment; then just lensed and cut the second with his regular assistant Gregory Jacobs (Wind Chill) directing; and now returns to his trio of OG roles (still credited as Peter Andrews for his cinematography and Mary Ann Bernard for his editing) — have Mike Lane living his own Groundhog Day in a way. The more things change, the more that plenty stays the same for the saga's hero. This series started out not just putting its star's ripped physique and knack for erotic dancing to eye-catching use, but drawing upon his own story thanks to Tatum's past onstage Florida. He isn't currently getting by stripping while striving to follow his passion, of course. Before Magic Mike was scorching the screen, he'd already made it big. But these films, all three of which are penned by Reid Carolin (Dog), understand that Tatum's reality isn't the way that this tale usually goes. In the franchise's first 2012 strip, Mike strutted in g-strings to make cash to design custom furniture, but little was turning out as planned. In 2015 sequel Magic Mike XXL, Mike and his fellow Kings of Tampa (Archenemy's Joe Manganiello, The Boys in the Band's Matt Bomer, John Wick's Kevin Nash and Criminal Minds' Adam Rodriguez) kept disrobing on the road to other fully attired goals, but the group and film wholeheartedly appreciated the joy and empowerment that the series' central line of work gifts women. This time, Mike's business went bust in the pandemic, so he's bartending in Miami. When ultra-rich socialite Maxandra Mendoza (Salma Hayek Pinault, House of Gucci) tempts him back with a $6000 private sensual gig — because she needs a distraction from her messy separation — his prowess moving his hips and removing his clothing firmly remains a means to an end. Pouring drinks at a waterside charity gala, crossing paths with a former client from the first flick and spending a night dazzling Max: that's how Mike winds up on a plane to the UK, once more just following the money. Soon he's staying in Max's home — where valet Vincent (Ayub Khan-Din, London Bridge) frowns and Max's teen daughter Zadie (Jemelia George) proves cynical — and also turning director. In her divorce proceedings from adulterous media mogul Roger Rattigan (Alan Cox, New Amsterdam), she's now the owner of a theatre that shares his surname, and she has a Mike-inspired itch she wants scratched. Ditching the stuffy period drama that's been treading the boards there for years, she tasks him with spreading his talents by putting together an upmarket performance. Not that Magic Mike Live needs it, but Magic Mike's Last Dance doubles as an ad for the IRL tour, while having Tatum and company work towards staging exactly that kind of production. To address the 'Pony' in the room, Ginuwine's track gets another spin, its slinky, sultry beats again capturing the mood throbbing through this steamy, sweaty, lusty and thrusting — and sex- and body-positive — saga. Magic Mike's Last Dance makes viewers wait for the tune the series is virtually synonymous with, a delay that doesn't matter at all to the movie itself yet also echoes the underlying approach. Unlike round one, this isn't primarily a playful drama about the struggle to pursue the American dream. Unlike this stripper-verse's second swing, it isn't a joyous comedy, either. Teasing out what it knows the audience wants, it's primarily a will-they-won't-they romance and a backstage musical instead — a move that, although packaged with Tatum's smooth moves alongside his mostly personality-free fellow dancers, and given its pulse through Tatum and Hayek Pinault's chemistry, comes oiled with by-the-numbers melodrama. Viewers might remember that Magic Mike XXL was touted as a last ride, too; this second final hurrah isn't as focused or as thrilling a swan song. There's a clunkiness and awkwardness to Magic Mike's Last Dance that begins with the film's narration, which waxes lyrical about the seductive and connective power of dance, yet also feels distancing as it waves about an unnecessary fairy-tale vibe. Compared to its predecessors, this supposed farewell is tamer and politer in tone even at its raciest. It yearns for more titillation, and more flesh to back up Max's certainty that the world needs and women want Mike's skills — and it longs for more of Manganiello, Bomer, Nash, Rodriguez and their male camaraderie. Midway through, Magic Mike's Last Dance temporarily twists into Ocean's- and Logan Lucky-style caper, adding pointless padding. And while championing female pleasure, desire and erotic fantasies still thrums through the movie, it's with a light buzz rather than anything deeply penetrating. Still, at their weightiest (part one) and most entertaining (part two, also the horniest), the Magic Mike movies have never been flawless — and Magic Mike's Last Dance has other charms. Whenever dancing bumps and grinds across the screen, presses up against windows, dangles from beams or slides through onstage puddles (giving 2023 its second Singin' in the Rain nod in as many months), the film is ecstatic, as well as varied in its types and forms of fleet footwork. Whenever the committed Tatum and Hayek Pinault share the frame, flirting, bantering and getting acrobatic in that helluva opening tango, intimacy and radiance pierces through Soderbergh's uncharacteristically dark lensing. Indeed, when there's genuine heat to Magic Mike's Last Dance, it sizzles from that choreography and that core duo. Everything else too often feels like foreplay at its most routine and half-hearted.
With WorldPride having descended on Sydney for 17 dazzling days of celebrations, you can bet Melbourne's dishing up a few local treats of its own. And among them are a couple of Pride-themed editions of Tina's Bingo Academy — the much-loved drag bingo lunch sessions that fire up Tokyo Tina each weekend. Across multiple sittings on Saturday, February 25 (12pm and 2.15pm) and Sunday, February 26 (1pm), the Windsor hot spot will be getting into the WorldPride spirit with a little help from hostess with mostest, Valerie Hex. Guests will enjoy her sparkling repartee while indulging in a raucous spot of bingo — and trust us, this is not the kind your nan plays. [caption id="attachment_848174" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Leah Traecey[/caption] For $79, you'll spend two hours sipping bottomless tap beer, bubbly and Aperol spritzes, while feasting on your table's choice of four dishes from the brunch menu. Expect plates like miso-baked cauliflower, salmon tartare, five-spice chicken karaage, pan-fried fish with finger lime ponzu, and crispy corn fritters paired with sansho mayo. There's complimentary kimchi rice and edamame to match. And if you're only in for the eats and entertainment, a drinks-less option comes in at just $55.
Tatt fans can celebrate all the creativity and diversity of the tattooing world at the Inked Expo, an all-new body art festival coming to the Melbourne Showgrounds the weekend of February 10-12. The event will be a showcase of exceptional tattoo art, with world-renowned artists such as Emily-Rose Murray, Chris Nieves, Karlla Mended, Luke Dyson, Camilo Camargo and more showcasing their skills, live in person. In fact, more than 220 artists and vendors will be displaying their work and offering walk-ins, flash tattoos and pre-bookings across the weekend, so it's perfect timing if you're in the market for a new piece. Acclaimed tattoo artist and event founder Chris Jensen has pulled together a diverse lineup that extends beyond tattooing. Live music, discussion panels, awards, food trucks and even "ink off" battles are all on the bill, as well as a child-friendly "Kidz Corner" where kids can experiment with (temporary) sleeve tatts. Tickets for Inked Expo are available now and will set you back $35 for a day pass, $65 for a two day pass, and $75 for a three day pass (with free entry for kids under 13).
Throughout March, Hochi Mama in the CBD and Richmond, Straight Outta Saigon and Kiss & Tell will all be serving discounted margaritas. Each of the four Mamas Dining Group locations will shake up a heap of different Patrón margs for just $15 a pop. And you don't need to wait for a particular day or happy hour. Anytime these spots are open in March, this deal will be running. You can visit any of these restaurants to get a classic marg or the team's rendition of a Tommy's Margarita. Plus, each venue has created its own unique version just for margarita month. Hochi Mama CBD is pouring a honeydew margarita; Hochi Mama Richmond has gone for a spicy coriander creation; Straight Outta Saigon has packed its with mango nectar; and Kiss & Tell is shaking up a fresh watermelon margs. Three of these spots are in the CBD, so there's potential for punters to embark on a margarita bar crawl. Otherwise, pull up a seat at one of these spots and settle in for a night of feasting on Vietnamese or Asian-fusion eats paired with a couple of rounds of margaritas. There certainly are worse ways to spend a night in the city.
Sit in a chair. Embrace the otherworldly. Whether you're ready for it or not — physically and emotionally alike — bear witness to the dead being summoned. Speak to those who are no longer in the land of the living. Perhaps, while you're chatting, get caught in a dialogue with something nefarious as well. Talk to Me used this setup to audience-wowing and award-winning effect. Now comes Baghead, which stems from a short film that pre-dates 2023's big Australian-made horror hit, and was shot before Michael and Danny Philippou's A24-distributed flick played cinemas, but still brings it to mind instantly. Audiences can be haunted by what they've seen before, especially in a busy, ever-growing genre where almost everything is haunted anyway and few pictures feel genuinely new. Here, there's no shaking how Talk to Me gnaws at Baghead. First-time feature filmmaker Alberto Corredor adapts his own applauded short, which picked up gongs at film festivals around the globe. Both of his movies — abridged and full-length — possess the same moniker as a mumblecore effort starring Greta Gerwig before she was directing Lady Bird, Little Women and Barbie. That's where the similarities between 2008's Baghead and 2024's end, but the new Baghead doesn't stop conjuring up thoughts of other flicks. The director and screenwriters Christina Pamies (another debutant) and Bryce McGuire (Night Swim) make grief their theme, and with commitment; the pain of loss colours the movie as much as its shadowy imagery. But, despite boasting two dedicated performances, Corredor's Baghead is routine again and again. At The Queen's Head in Berlin, Owen Lark (Peter Mullan, The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power) oversees a ramshackle four-centuries-old pub where customers aren't there for the drinks. The basement is the big drawcard for those in the know, with the being that resides in it, in a hole in a brick wall, luring punters in the door. Everyone who arrives with cash and a plea for help is in mourning. When Neil (Jeremy Irvine, Benediction) makes an entrance, he knows exactly what he wants. Baghead begins not with Owen letting his latest patron meet the entity that shares the movie's title, though, but with him endeavouring to vanquish it. If he was successful, there'd be no film from there. Because he isn't, his estranged daughter Iris (Freya Allan, The Witcher) is summoned to the German city by a solicitor (Ned Dennehy, The Peripheral), becoming the watering hole's next owner. It's thanks to Neil that Iris discovers Baghead's namesake. In addition to being determined to talk to his deceased wife, he's persistent. And yes, the witchy being does sport a sack, which is removed when it is spends 120 seconds transforming into another soul. Also, the $2000 that Neil is offering is more than a little helpful for the twentysomething who grew up in the foster system after her mother's (Saffron Burrows, White Widow) death, just had her landlord change the locks on her and only can only lean on her best friend Katie (Ruby Barker, Bridgerton). Potential financial benefits, plus a roof over her head, are why she agrees to sign up for taking over the bar to start with. No amount of money could compensate for becoming saddled with a necromancer that doesn't want to be holed up underground and has a bag of tricks to mess with anyone willing to use its eerie skills, however. A VHS tape from Iris' dad detailing instructions can't stop Baghead, either. As Scream satirised three decades back in the slasher realm but horror loves in general, there are rules. There's also consequences for not abiding by them. Exceed the time limit with Baghead and the malevolent creature could spirit up anyone. Going into the cavern beneath the tavern is also forbidden — and so is Iris trying to snatch time with her own lost loved ones now that she's the entity's guardian. With the basics laid out, and viewers knowing that all of the above will happen, the predictable plot's expected beats become a matter of if rather than when. There's no subtlety to the storytelling, nor to the tension-courting score or gloomy visuals. Luckily, Baghead does have both Allan and Mullan, even if the latter isn't around for long (but longer than getting bumped off in the introduction would mean if this wasn't a flick about conversing with the fallen). In her first lead film role, as well as just her ninth screen credit — The Third Day and Gunpowder Milkshake are among the others; Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, the fourth flick in the current Planet of the Apes franchise, will become the tenth within months — Allan takes convincingly to being a horror heroine. Iris is also a horror-movie character who has clearly never seen a horror movie in her life given her choices, but emotion anchors Allan's performance. The star best-known as Crown Princess Cirilla of Cintra to-date tries to help the film overcome its many cliches; that it can't is never on her shoulders. Mullan, one of Scotland's great acting talents since the 90s, is also crucial, particularly for getting audiences paying attention at the outset. Baghead doesn't match his intensity, but it's better for having him brooding within its Cale Finot (Leopard Skin)-lensed frames. If viewers only had two minutes to choose a recent back-from-the-dead feature to watch, Baghead isn't the pick. That said, although it hardly dives deep or does much with it, it understands grief. That the picture's protagonist is another of Baghead's characters with unresolved emotions tied to losing someone might sound too neat, yet thankfully it isn't. Setting up a sequel proves clunky. Attempting to add a feminist spin plays too conveniently. Facing loss: that resonates. Corredor, Pamies and McGuire know how pervasive that mourning is, and how universal that grappling with mortality is, too. In fact, if Iris didn't have her own brush with loss, as everyone has, that'd stand out. If only Baghead's creative forces knew how to build a film that wasn't so by the numbers around its premise — and for 94 minutes.
No one might've thought of Joel and Ethan Coen as yin and yang if they hadn't started making movies separately. Since 2018's The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, their latest feature together as sibling filmmakers, the elder of the Coen brothers went with Shakespearean intensity by directing 2021's The Tragedy of Macbeth on his lonesome — while Ethan now opts for goofy, loose and hilariously sidesplitting silliness with Drive-Away Dolls. The pair aren't done collaborating, with a horror flick reportedly in the works next. But their break from being an Oscar-winning team has gifted audiences two treats in completely different fashions. For the younger brother, he's swapped in his wife Tricia Cooke, editor of The Big Lebowski, O Brother, Where Art Thou? and The Man Who Wasn't There, on a picture that couldn't slide more smoothly onto his resume alongside the madcap antics that the Coens combined are known for. Indeed, spying shades of the first of those two features that Cooke spliced in Drive-Away Dolls, plus Raising Arizona, Fargo and Burn After Reading as well, is both easy and delightful. As a duo, the Coen brothers haven't ever followed two women through lesbian bars, makeout parties and plenty of horniness between the sheets, though, amid wall dildos and other nods to intimate appendages, even if plenty about the Ethan-directed, Cooke-edited Drive-Away Dolls — which both Ethan and Cooke co-wrote — is classic Coens. There's the road-trip angle, conspiracy mayhem, blundering criminals in hot pursuit of Jamie (Margaret Qualley, Poor Things) and Marian (Geraldine Viswanathan, Cat Person), dumb men (those crooks again) in cars and just quirky characters all round. There's the anarchic chases, witty yet philosophical banter and highly sought-after briefcase at the centre of the plot, too. And, there's the fact that this is a comedic caper, its love of slapstick and that a wealth of well-known faces pop up as the zany antics snowball. The Joel-and-Ethan team hasn't made a film as sapphic as this, either, however, or one that's a 90s-set nod to, riff on, and parody of 60s- and 70s-era sexploitation raucousness. Cooke, who identifies as queer, helps Drive-Away Dolls draw upon what she knows in its watering holes and three-decades-back timing; the movie was also originally conceived pre-Y2K, when it would've been a contemporary piece if it had made it to fruition. Centring on its paired queer ladies, there's a lived-in vibe among its gleeful chaos, then. Giving the film authenticity and having a freewheeling blast by going in any which way that it can — and swinging from sweet to eagerly cheesy at times (including in its editing) — aren't mutually exclusive for a moment. One of the best surprises of Drive-Away Dolls is how constantly surprising it is and entertainingly spontaneous it feels, no matter how many familiar Coenesque beats and bits viewers can pick out as the romp rolls on for 84 engaging minutes. Among the elbows in past Coen fare's direction is Sanctuary and Stars at Noon's Qualley as the self-assured and keenly talkative Jamie, who could be a relative of George Clooney (Ticket to Paradise) as O Brother, Where Art Thou?'s Ulysses Everett McGill (off-screen, of course, Qualley is her Maid co-star Andie MacDowell's daughter). But she's rarely in tight spot even when she is; letting anything pierce her good time isn't her vibe. Marian and then Jamie's police-officer girlfriend Sukie (Beanie Feldstein, American Crime Story) calling while she's in the throes of lust with someone else doesn't pierce her bubble. The subsequent end of that relationship barely does, in fact, other than sparking her desire for a new backdrop. Contrastingly, Marian always feels like everything is wrong — almost to Inside Llewyn Davis levels — whether she's being asked out by a colleague, annoyed by the word "anyhoo", keeping resolutely single years after her last breakup or deciding that ditching Philadelphia to visit an aunt in Tallahassee is her only option for change. Jamie doesn't just declare that she's tagging along when Marian hits the highway to Florida; she's the reason that the picture has the title it does (which was originally Drive-Away Dykes). If a car requires transporting from one place to the next, customers can put their hands up for discounted — or even free — vehicle hire to get it from A to B via a drive-away deal, which is handy for Jamie and Marian's finances. But after a visit to Curlie (Bill Camp, The Burial) for their temporary automobile, goons Arliss (Joey Slotnick, Plane) and Flint (CJ Wilson, The Blacklist) become their two-steps-behind shadows, working for an insistent fellow crim (Colman Domingo, The Color Purple). They're after a briefcase that's introduced in the movie's opening scene, where it's in the hands of a collector (Pedro Pascal, The Last of Us). Simply attempting to hightail it out of town, Jamie and Marian have no idea what they've inadvertently gotten mixed up in. This is Ethan's debut solo fictional feature without his sibling co-helming. That said, it's his and Cooke's second successive project where Ethan is credited as the director, Cooke edits, but it's clearly a joint effort (the first: 2022 documentary Jerry Lee Lewis: Trouble in Mind). This Coen brother knows how to make all kinds of double acts work, then — and, in this one, Drive-Away Dolls' guiding forces weave no shortage of hookups into the journey. A chihuahua named Alice B Toklas, Henry James novels, cameos by Matt Damon (Oppenheimer) and Miley Cyrus (Black Mirror), a game cast in lead and supporting parts, a wild goose chase, general giddiness, a heap of spice, bars and hotel rooms after bars and hotel rooms, artist Cynthia Plaster Caster: they're all along for this ride. There's ample daffy detours in the narrative, but zero stalling in this riotous affair. With chemistry to burn between them, Qualley and Viswanathan are as pivotal to Drive-Away Dolls as its main behind-the-scenes talents. The film was always going to need a duo who made viewers crave every second in their company regardless of what the script throws their way, including whether Jamie is splashing around her exhibitionist sex-positivity or Marian is yearning for a life less ordinary — and it found them. There's a particular depth to Australian Miracle Workers, The Broken Hearts Gallery and Blockers star Viswanathan's portrayal, despite plunging too deep never being one of Coen and Cooke's aims. Marian wants something beyond the rut that she's long been stuck in. She can't stop being herself, aka the movie's straight man, to get it. She's hardly welcoming of the mania that she's thrust into. Relatable also isn't what Drive-Away Dolls is chiefly going for, but it finds it as well and drives away with it.
Calling all Dans. The Melbourne Food & Wine Festival pop-up Dan's Diner is giving anyone named Dan a free cocktail during its happy hour on Thursday, March 21, Friday, March 22 and Sunday, March 24. And this isn't just for the basic Daniels of the world. If your name is Danielle, Daniele, Daniela, Danny, Dani, Danni, Dannii, Dana, Daen, Daan, Daniyyel, Danail or Danyal, then this one is also for you. On each of the three days, from 4–5pm, the first 20 people through the door to show photo ID proof that their name is indeed a variation of Dan will get a free Dan Murphizz — a cocktail made from Melbourne Gin Company's fine dry gin, Marionette apricot brandy and lemon juice. Dan Murphy's is running this Fed Square pop-up and has gathered together a heap of Dans from Melbourne's hospo scene to serve up American diner-inspired food and bevs. This includes Dan Hunter from Brae, Daniel Puskas from Sixpenny and Daniel Wilson from Yakimono. The Dan Murphy's crew has clearly leaned in hard to the Dan theme. And come Saturday, March 23 and Sunday, March 24, visitors to the pop-up can also have a go at getting some free merch — if you're keen on the Dan Murphy's logo. The team has made their own strength tester, so folks can swing a mallet and try and ring the bell to get some free goodies. Either stick around for more diner eats and drinks after Dan's Hour or explore other Fed Square happenings like the pop-up bakery Baker's Dozen.
Your average punter can't just walk into the Cool Hand Coffee's roastery in South Melbourne to grab a freshly brewed cup of joe. And only a handful of Melbourne cafes use its beans. But for three days only, the team is setting up a pop-up cafe where everyday coffee lovers can try some of Cool Hand Coffee's blends. On Friday, March 15, it'll be open from 6.30am–2pm, and on Saturday and Sunday the public can drop by from 7.30am–3pm. Sample the team's quirky batch brews with strawberry yoghurt, lychee and raspberry candy tasting notes or keep it simple with your usual milky coffee. The pop-up shop, located at 28 Johnston Street in Fitzroy, will be decked out with artwork by Melbourne-based artists and host some DJs throughout each of the days. Either stick around for a bit and enjoy the temporary space, or get in and get out quickly with a takeaway caffeine hit. And if you time things right, getting there between 9am and 10am, you'll get your cup of coffee for free. This is a huge win for locals and workers in the area who want a free coffee on Friday or for visitors to the area on the weekend.
UPDATE, Monday, April 15, 2024: The Pandemonium Rocks lineup has changed with Placebo, Deep Purple, Dead Kennedys, Gang of Four, Gyroscope and Fetch no longer on the bill. The details below have been updated to reflect that change. Some music festivals introduce you to your future favourites and today's biggest names. Others are all about enjoying yesterday's greats. Australia has no shortage of both kinds of events, but it's adding one more nostalgic-driven fest: the brand-new Pandemonium Rocks, which will debut on the country's east coast in April. Blondie and Alice Cooper lead the lineup, meaning that 70s hits 'Heart of Glass' and 'School's Out' will echo through the fest. The familiar tunes won't stop there, either, with Wheatus sure to bust out 'Teenage Dirtbag', and Wolfmother certain to give 'Woman' and 'Joker and the Thief' a whirl. [caption id="attachment_938063" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Raph_PH via Wikimedia Commons[/caption] Psychedelic Furs, Palaye Royale and Cosmic Psychos round out the bill, as headed to Caribbean Gardens in Melbourne on Saturday, April 20. A point of difference with Pandemonium Rocks: the fact that you can bring low-rise beach-style chairs that are smaller than 70 centimetres tall to the outdoor gigs. Top image: Biha via Wikimedia Commons.
Whether it's via a post or tweet or message, in a comment or status update, thanks to a Notes app screenshot or in an email, mean words aren't hard to share two decades into the 21st century. Click a few buttons, slide your finger across a touchscreen, then vitriol can be directed virtually instantaneously worldwide. Countless people — too many, all sticklers for unpleasantness — do just that. Such behaviour has almost become a reflex. A century ago, however, spewing nastiness by text required far more effort. Someone had to put ink to paper, commit their hatred to physical form in their own handwriting, tuck it into an envelope, pay for postage, then await the mail service to deliver their malice. Wicked Little Letters isn't an ode to that dedication, but there's no avoiding that sending offensive missives in its 1920s setting was a concerted, determined act — and also that no one could claim just seconds later that they were hacked. Times change, and technology with it, but people don't: that's another way of looking at this British dramedy, which is indeed based on a true tale. Director Thea Sharrock (The One and Only Ivan) and screenwriter Jonny Sweet (Gap Year) know that there's a quaintness about the chapter of history that they're bringing to the screen, but not to the attitudes behind the incident. In Sussex by the sea on the English Channel, spiteful dispatches scandalised a town, with the situation dubbed "the Littlehampton libels". Today, much worse than the swearing and insults initially sent to Edith Swan, then to other villagers as well, can be seen on social media constantly. Someone can fire off unhinged pettiness in seconds. No one in another 100 years will be making a movie about wicked little letters of the 2020s, then — where would they start, or end? Right now, in this flick about disagreeable and distressing communications, contrasting the reality of the human penchant for mud-slinging across a century springs from a well-told story. In Wicked Little Letters' account of the Littlehampton events, Edith (Olivia Colman, Wonka) keeps receiving notes that overuse vulgar terms, and the God-fearing, prim-and-proper spinster, who lives with her strict father (Timothy Spall, The Heist Before Christmas) and dutiful mother (Gemma Jones, Emily), is certain that she knows the source of her unwanted mail. Living next door, Rose Gooding (Jessie Buckley, Fingernails) is an Irish single mother to Nancy (Alisha Weir, Roald Dahl's Matilda the Musical), has Bill (Malachi Kirby, My Name Is Leon) as her live-in boyfriend, and is fond of a drink at the pub and of sharing her opinion. The two neighbours are as chalk and cheese as women of the time could get, but were once friendly. When Edith blames Rose, the latter's pleas that she's innocent — and that she'd just tell the former her grievances to her face, not send them anonymously — fall on deaf ears among most of the resident police. The reaction from the constabulary isn't astonishing. Papperwick (Hugh Skinner, The Witcher) and his chief Spedding (Paul Chahidi, Chad) think that it's an open-and-shut case, arrogantly and pompously so. Initially, "woman police officer" (as her colleagues insist on calling her) Gladys Moss (Anjana Vasan, Black Mirror) shares the same conclusion. But when your very presence as the first female cop is treated as a novelty day in and day out at work, it isn't a leap to spot how preconceived prejudice dictates the use of the law — sparking Gladys into investigating whether there's more afoot, going against Spedding's orders, but with a trio of local women (Saltburn's Lolly Adefope, Boat Story's Joanna Scanlan and Doc Martin's Eileen Atkins) assisting. As Wicked Little Letters spins a whodunnit around its expletive-filled correspondence and lapses in accepted propriety — albeit one with low stakes, given that the culprit is largely obvious regardless of whether you know the real-life details going in — it does so with top-notch casting. Watching any Colman-starring film means seeing one of Britain's best actors put on a show, as everything from The Favourite to The Father attests. Here, it also involves witnessing a layered portrayal, not that that's unusual for the Oscar-winner. Edith is the picture of Catholic piety, but yearns for constant approval (being called a "pretty young Christian woman" gets her beaming with pride) after spending her entire existence under her abusive father's thumb. Envy also clearly courses through her veins towards the former acquaintance that she's sending to jail. Enjoying Colman's turn also means revelling in her ability to sling profanities when the narrative calls for it ("piss" and "foxy-arsed" are high among the scribe's terms of choice). Buckley, also as always, is as spirited as she is earthy — and expertly balances Rose's bold forthrightness with her inner vulnerability as the village witch-hunt keeps pointing its pitchforks Rose's way (primarily for daring to be unmarried, a mother, cohabiting with a man, known to curse and nothing but her irrepressible self). She's having as much of a ball as Colman with her part, in just-as-stellar a performance. The dynamic between Edith and Rose spells out the narrow-minded societal mindset about women at the time, including how such judgements and expectations were internalised, but neither Buckley nor Colman are stuck playing mere symbols or subversions of regressive attitudes. Also excellent is Vasan, in a role that's no less crucial, conveying a process that is never as easy to experience as it is to witness: realising how flawed the status quo is, how your existence has been shaped by it (female police officers weren't even permitted to marry or have children), then challenging it no matter the consequences. As shot with the warm hues typical of period-set English fare by cinematographer Ben Davis (The Banshees of Inisherin), this poison-pen story doesn't send much that's surprising to the screen — as a mystery, a satire, a bundle of character studies, a cop and courtroom drama, or a portrait of the era that it depicts. It also leans heavily on its strong language being entertaining. But Sharrock, comedian Sweet and their cast have such a handle on the scenario, its amusing potential, and everything that this true-crime tale says about the 1920s, 2020s and humanity's worst impulses regardless of the year, that it always works. When Colman and Buckley last appeared in the same movie, The Lost Daughter had them playing the same person; getting them sharing a frame, and swearing in it, is also worth watching.
Lumen People, a cafe-wine-bar hybrid based in North Melbourne, is hosting the ultimate boozy lunch this coming Sunday, April 14. Led by Chef Steve Chan, known for his Asian-Australian fusion at Sleepy's Cafe & Wine Bar, the menu will feature seasonal small plates, like tomato and egg soup with drop dumplings. This takeover also invites wine sommelier Raffaele Mastrovincenzo, previously from IDES and Vue De Monde, and Victorian representative for Giorgio De Maria Fun Wines, who has curated a handpicked selection of wine to go with Chan's menu. Elsewhere, ARIA award-winning DJ Stephen Charles, who has 15 years of global experience in providing tunes, will make an appearance. This unique afternoon at Lumen People will offer two sittings at 1pm and 3pm. Located at 2a/520 Victoria St, Lumen's boozy lunch shouldn't be missed for those seeking a Sunday sesh filled with culinary delights, wine, and groovy beats. [caption id="attachment_949578" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Photo by Hugh McDonnell[/caption]
Calling all BBQ lovers. Dandenong Market is set to host a 'BBQs of the World' event to celebrate the art of grilling. This culinary extravaganza will spotlight an array of techniques and flavours from around the globe, including the smokiness of American BBQ, the fiery notes of Argentinian asado, the variety of Korean BBQ, and the aromatics of an Indian tandoor oven. Elsewhere, Brazilian churrasco, Japanese yakitori, African BBQ, Mexican barbacoa, Turkish shish kebabs, Jamaican jerk, Filipino inihaw, Greek souvlaki, Afghan kebab, German kransky, Polynesian luau style and the quintessential Australian snag on the barbie will also among the highlights. With options for carnivores and vegetarians, there's something to satisfy every palate. Beyond the delectable dishes, the event offers free family-friendly entertainment. Enjoy captivating dance performances, ranging from Sri Lankan traditions to the high-energy beats of Bollywood. Dive into the vibrant rhythms of Brazilian cha cha, rumba and salsa, or participate in an immersive drums workshop to feel the pulsating heartbeats of Africa. Mark your calendars for Sunday, April 21, from 11am–3pm, for a celebration of global cuisine and culture at Dandenong Market.
Resurrecting horror franchises that first gleamed bright in the 70s is a trend that Hollywood isn't done idolising. Halloween did it. The Exorcist returned as well. Via remakes, Carrie, Suspiria and Black Christmas have all made comebacks since the 2010s. The Omen was always going to get its turn, then. Taking the prequel route — because the OG 1976 film hadn't spawned one yet with 1978's Damien — Omen II, 1981's Omen III: The Final Conflict and 1991's Omen IV: The Awakening, plus a 2006 remake and 2016's one-season TV series — gives rise to The First Omen, as set in Rome in 1971. Fans will know that June 6 that year was when Damien was born. Spinning backstories into new movies can create flicks that smack of inevitability above all else, but not here: this is a genuinely eerie and dread-laced Omen entry with an expert command of unnerving imagery by first-time feature director Arkasha Stevenson (Brand New Cherry Flavour), plus a well-chosen anchor in lead actor Nell Tiger Free (Game of Thrones). Horror, unusual babies, childminding at its most disquieting, a claustrophobic location, a lack of agency, distressing displays of faith: Free has been here before. Indeed, if Stevenson and her co-writers Tim Smith (a screenwriting debutant) and Keith Thomas (the director of 2022's awful Firestarter remake) used Servant as their inspiration in more ways than one, they've made a savvy choice. Featuring their star for four seasons between 2019–2023, that M Night Shyamalan (Knock at the Cabin)-produced series was one of the great horror streaming efforts of the past five years. The First Omen goes heavier on jolting visuals to go with its nerve-jangling atmosphere, but it too stands out. Its worst choice is being needlessly and gratingly blatant in connecting dots in its very last moments, even if nearly half a century has passed since this spawn-of-Satan saga began. For those who don't know the Damien-centric details going in, The First Omen redresses that gap in your pop-culture knowledge — except that anyone unaware of the franchise's ins and outs will have still picked up the antichrist basics; they're that well-established. Also, as per above, every decade since the 70s has given something Omen-related a whirl. In the actual first Omen film, an American ambassador in Rome adopted a boy in secret, as sourced by a chaplain, when his own didn't survive childbirth. Five years later, when the bulk of the flick takes place, a 666 birthmark proved exactly what the title described. Stevenson's movie steps in before all of that, spending its time with a novitiate from the US who is invited to take her vows in Italy and, in the lead up, to stay and work at a convent that cares for orphaned girls and unwed pregnant mothers. Free's Margaret is that aspiring bride of Christ, in Rome at the behest of Cardinal Lawrence (Bill Nighy, The Beautiful Game), who she knows from a childhood spent entirely within the church. Despite her devotion to god, and to prim-and-proper rules, her reception is mixed; she finds abbess Sister Silvia (Sônia Braga, Shotgun Wedding) spooky, colleague Sister Anjelica (Ishtar Currie-Wilson, Lockwood & Co) unsettling and the stiff treatment of Carlita Scianna (Summer Limited Edition), one of the older girls under the nunnery's guardianship, questionable to say the least. Luz (Maria Caballero, The Girl in the Mirror), Margaret's roommate who'll also soon take the veil, encourages her to let loose before giving her body to the lord. A night at a bar, and also witnessing a mother ushering her child into the world at the orphanage, quickly sparks nightmares. Then there's Father Brennan (Ralph Ineson, The Creator), who has gone rogue to warn her about the plans for Carlita. Horror, unusual babies, pregnancy at its most disquieting, a claustrophobic location, a lack of agency, distressing displays of faith, the Catholic church trying to keep a stronghold on power by nefarious means, an American nun-to-be in Italy and in trouble, sisters and priests that can't be trusted: cinema in 2024 has been here before as well. The First Omen arrives mere weeks after Immaculate, where filmmaker Michael Mohan (The Voyeurs) helmed a Sydney Sweeney (Madame Web)-led dance with Christianity at its most devilish — but with a different progeny hoped for. Call it a case of twin films, right down to the cues taken from giallo. Releasing either side of Easter, a go-to time for Catholic horror flicks — 2023 had The Pope's Exorcist and 2021 The Unholy, for instance — call this pair a great double feature, too. One of the greatest tricks that The First Omen pulls: making its audience not give a damn whether it's an Omen movie or not by being utterly engrossing in its visuals and lead performance regardless of the nods sent in obvious directions. That's another reason why the last scene lands with the clunkiest of thuds. Former photojournalist Stevenson, plus No One Will Save You's Aaron Morton as her cinematographer, are both bold and elegant with the sights that grace the screen — images that haunt with mood and texture as they evoke a visceral response. 1981's Possession, which shares Sam Neill (Apples Never Fall) as a star with the same year's Omen III, gets a striking visual nudge. Elsewhere, black habits virtually come alive, closed curtains hold fearsome foes, walls and floors are filled with sinister scribblings, and a line of nuns hugs the floor. A face screaming in agony while trapped in a black veil, claws replacing a crowning baby's head: they provide unforgettably chilling moments, and also reinforce that The First Omen, like Immaculate, is born into an IRL world and from a country where control over women's bodies is no mere relic. Examining how religion reacts to dwindling influence lingers in The First Omen in several ways, including seeing and speaking about protesting students, who Lawrence laments have no trust or faith in Catholicism. New blood such as Margaret and Luz is just one tactic floated for connecting with non-believers, of course. There's little subtlety to The First Omen's themes or plot but, again, its deeply perturbing vibe and look, and a committed lead performance from Free (plus the always-great Braga, The Witch's Ineson putting his gravelly voice to great use, and Nighy and Charles Dance, the flick's third GoT alum, adding a creepy air), all demand adoration. With the latter, who swings between innocent and unhinged, emotional, psychological and physical devotion are part of her portrayal. In fact, when "it's all for you" is wailed in Free's vicinity — a line no Omen movie can pass up — it could be coming from Stevenson, who has made a spine-chiller that hardly needs to exist on paper, but is wholly worthy of her star's remarkable efforts.
Quotes and observations about evil being mundane, as well as the result when people look the other way, will never stop being relevant. A gripping, unsettling masterpiece, The Zone of Interest is a window into why. The first film by Sexy Beast, Birth and Under the Skin director Jonathan Glazer in more than a decade, the Holocaust-set, Oscar-nominated and BAFTA-winning feature peers on as the unthinkable happens literally just over the fence, but a family goes about its ordinary life. If it seems abhorrent that anything can occur in the shadow of any concentration camp or site of World War II atrocities, that's part of the movie's point. It dwells in the Interessengebiet, the 40-square-kilometre-plus titular area that comprised and surrounded the Auschwitz complex, to interrogate how banal genocide was to those in power; commandant Rudolf Höss (Christian Friedel, Babylon Berlin), even gloats that his name will be remembered and celebrated for its connection to mass extermination. Höss was a real person, and the real Nazi SS officer overseeing Auschwitz from 1940–43. His wife Hedwig (Sandra Hüller, Anatomy of a Fall) and five children are similarly drawn from truth. But The Zone of Interest finds its way to the screen via Martin Amis' fiction novel of the same name, then hones its interest down from the book's three narrators to the Höss family; a biopic, it isn't, even as it switches its character monikers back to reflect actuality. This is a work of deep probing and contemplation — a piece that demands that its viewers confront the daily reality witnessed and face how the lives of those in power, and benefiting from it, thrived with death not only as a neighbour but an enabler. Camp prisoners tend the Höss' garden. Ashes are strewn over the soil for horticultural effect. Being turned into the same is a threat used to keep the household's staff in line. All three of these details, as with almost everything in the feature, are presented with as matter-of-fact an air as cinema is capable of. The film starts with idyllic river swims — with Rudolph and Hedwig taking their brood picnicking and frolicking like this isn't the 1940s, war isn't tearing apart Europe, and casualties at the Nazis' hands via their internment system aren't heartbreaking in their horror, cruelty and number. When the Hösses return home after their day out, a sight of domestic bliss awaits there, too. Hedwig isn't just proud of the multi-level house they've constructed, and the leafy grounds with a greenhouse and wading pool; when Rudolph is told that he'll be transferred, she's unwilling to leave. Theirs is a content existence. Glazer and cinematographer Lukasz Zal (an Academy Award contender for both Ida and Cold War) ensure that the barbed wire atop the adjoining wall with the camp is evident, however. Also, the filmmaker soundtracks the feature with rumbling ominousness from his Under the Skin composer Mica Levi, the sound of the furnaces, plus screams, howls and gunfire. The Zone of Interest doesn't plunge directly and visibly into Auschwitz's terrors, such as by moving its distanced camera over the barrier to spend time with detainees. It knows that its audience is already aware of the gutwrenching specifics, as the world should never be allowed to forget. But its approach — staring on at the Hösses primarily in mid shots, and choosing them as protagonists over the camp's inhabitants — is an act of matching its style and focus with one of the basic truths that it's unpacking. With its steadfast composure, which is resolute to an eerie degree, The Zone of Interest compartmentalises just as Rudolph and Hedwig do. When he approves crematorium designs, she tries on a fur coat that belonged to a prisoner, he sleeps with detainees and she fights to retain her perfect abode, each does so with zero thought for Auschwitz's involuntary populace as people. It's simple for a movie to restrict what it sees, of course, but magnifying the hideousness of humans doing the same to such suffering and savagery is another of the film's objectives. So much that fills Hedwig's days as the "queen of Auschwitz", as Rudolph calls her, is particularly pedestrian — and, as navigated so unflinchingly by Hüller in her second exceptional performance of the past year (and in one of two pictures that are 2024 Oscar-nominees), so far removed from any hint of concern or guilt over what's occurring next door. Landscaping, chores, parties, chatter and visits from relatives have rarely felt so disquieting. Unsurprisingly, The Zone of Interest isn't easy to watch for a second. Unshakeable dismay emanates from the disconnect between how the Hösses embrace their existence, and willingly, with the camp's grimness that's constantly heard. It isn't sighted but pondering the reverse, about prisoners listening to playing, splashing, laughing and cavorting ringing out from over the fence amid their pain and perishing, is as much of a blistering, bruising punch. Glazer understands that the human response is alarm and outrage even at the concept of Auschwitz and the Holocaust, let alone its echoes and shadows — reactions absent from those who profit personally and professionally from its brutality, and treat it with both ignorance and apathy. For all of its exacting gaze at sheer inhumanity, The Zone of Interest does depart from Rudolph, Hedwig and their kids in fits and spurts. Cutting to pure white, red and black makes a statement. Also, as lensed with night-vision cameras — the entire film only uses natural light, switching to heat when light genuinely couldn't be seen — the movie spies a Polish girl leaving food at detainee worksites each evening. There's hope in her deeds, with the character also based on a real figure. These moments underscore Glazer's commitment to seeing this story with modern eyes, too. The production design all-round is gleaming. The technical feat, with cameras wired into the set, is pure 21st-century. There's no dismissing what's being depicted as mere history, then, which a late jump to the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum now, as explored in documentary-esque footage, emphasises. For the bulk of the picture, Glazer's tech setup means that his actors, as led by Friedel and Hüller at their best, build their portrayals in lengthy takes and at a physical remove from the audience. He conveys the monotony of someone so influential in such awfulness, she taps into the subconscious refusal to engage with the truth of her surroundings, but getting truly close to Rudolph and Hedwig is never the aim. The Zone of Interest could never be about empathising with its points of interest, or redeeming them. As it observes their behaviour, it plummets into a nightmare that's all the more insidious and distressing for how commonplace its protagonists' lives and attitudes prove. In the process, this unforgettably potent and piercing movie also turns its window into a mirror, chillingly asking about today's equivalent of blocking our ears to shrieks and conflict, putting our own comforts ahead of what's right, striving to get ahead at work no matter the cost, and avoiding and disregarding what's over the wall.
A cast-out-of-time vibe tumbles and rustles through Fallen Leaves. In Aki Kaurismäki's 20th feature, his first since 2017's The Other Side of Hope, a calendar advises that it is 2024 and the radio reports on the war in Ukraine, but the look and mood could've been taken from decades and decades back. An account of two lonely souls in an uncaring world grasping a bond amid the grind that is just endeavouring to get by never dates, after all. Neither do the Finnish filmmaker's movies, with their love of droll humour, understatement and melancholy. Indeed, with tragicomedy Fallen Leaves, Kaurismäki links to the 80s and 90s, and to his Proletariat trilogy. Trust him to add a fourth title to the trio, which previously spanned 1986's Shadows in Paradise, 1988's Ariel and 1990's The Match Factory Girl; his love of absurdity doesn't age, either. Ensuring that Helsinki resembles a relic of the past — even more so at California Bar, which throws back to America in the 60s — keeps a state of arrested development lingering in Fallen Leaves. What makes a place and its people feel as if moving forward is something that only happens elsewhere? In Kaurismäki's hands in a movie that's quintessentially a Kaurismäki movie from start to finish, the answer is as simple as being caught in a monotonous routine, the very reality that the writer/director's features also give audiences a reprieve from. He knows this. On-screen here, he has Holappa (Jussi Vatanen, Koskinen) and Ansa (Alma Pöysti, A Day and a Half) find solace in a cinema themselves. They don't see a Kaurismäki picture. Instead, they catch The Dead Don't Die by Jim Jarmusch, the closest person that he has to an American equivalent. That's Holappa and Ansa's first official date, but not the start of Fallen Leaves' story. Before that, it gets to know him as a metalworker and her as a supermarket employee, methods of receiving a paycheque that neither is overly fussed about. Holappa is also an alcoholic, which eventually costs him his job. Ansa gets fired for trying to take home out-of-date food. The pair cross paths at a karaoke bar, and awkwardly, yet the audience can almost see the string tying them together as soon as they're both sharing a frame. For someone who so regularly processes the world's sadness through deadpan laughs, Kaurismäki isn't averse to kindred spirits — again, see his shoutout to Jarmusch, and also the fact that Fallen Leaves, as many of Kaurismäki's movies do, features a key canine connection. Dialogue doesn't come easily or abundantly in a film by the creative force who clearly didn't retire after The Other Side of Hope, as he said he was going to — and who won the 2023 Cannes Film Festival Jury Prize with Fallen Leaves, the proof that he's still behind the camera. Understanding his characters by being in their presence has always been his approach. Valuing silence and pauses plays like a throwback, too, increasingly so when words being flung about incessantly at literal presses of buttons is life circa 2024. His casting, and also the cinematography that splashes Kaurismäki's movies across the screen, are always pivotal as a result. With Vatanen and Pöysti, the latter collecting a Golden Globe nomination, Fallen Leaves boasts actors who reside fully in Holappa and Ansa's skins and sorrows. With Timo Salminen doing the lensing, as he has since the director's first film four decades ago, Fallen Leaves also knows how to deeply observe everything that its stars bring to their on-screen figures. The plot might be slight — Holappa and Ansa meet, gravitate towards each other, then attempt to clutch what respite they can from the winter that is existence — but that isn't the same as lacking detail. Seeing Ansa need to shop before she can host Holappa at her flat for dinner screams with minutiae about how accustomed she is to being alone, and for how long; she only has one place setting otherwise. While she's still stacking shelves for a gig, watching her employer demand that expired food be thrown out instead of going to those who need it says everything about the cruel corporate attitude that oppresses not just the working class, but 21st-century society at large. It isn't just that Kaurismäki wants his viewers to see Holappa and Ansa's lives, rather than hear them chat about it; to explain who they are, and why, plus the emotions simmering inside each, he also knows exactly what's crucial for audiences to peer at. There's a sensation that springs from Kaurismäki's films: a feeling of stepping into a world so distinctively crafted by the filmmaker while also still spying a poignant reflection of reality. That's why his script for the graceful and gorgeous Fallen Leaves can chart such a familiar scenario — template-like, almost — and yet is anything but a by-the-numbers effort. He lets his characters be who they are, ups, downs, strengths, flaws and all. He perceives them and their plights with such evident empathy, and also with hope. Anyone watching can spot how they could be or have been Holappa and Ansa, including when Kaurismäki frequently finds the hilarity in this cycle that we all call life. Naturalistic, humane, wry, sincere, tender, taking the bad with the good when it comes to each and every day and person: that's his remit, winningly, warmly and meaningfully so. In another of Fallen Leaves' touches that might seem at odds with setting it in 2024, pushing its protagonists together is complicated by the fact that they initially can't contact each other. Their names are hard-earned. Phone numbers are lost. This romance isn't easy to come by, then; for Holappa and Ansa both, and for viewers as well, it's worth striving for. Kaurismäki is a master at mirroring in his style, narrative and themes, such as showing how something that appears standard so rarely is via his plot and imagery, or telling a tale that takes away the always-on nature of modern life to stress what's truly important. He's a filmmaking great in general — and if the sexagenarian is encroaching upon the autumn of his career 41 years after his feature debut, his talents remain as verdant as ever.
Pickleball is everywhere now. It's got its own National Pickleball League in South Melbourne that's hosting an alternative speed-dating event this February. QT Melbourne and Hilton Melbourne even had pop-up rooftop pickleball courts for the Australian Open. And now, one of the best Japanese restaurants and sushi spots in Melbourne, Ichi Ni Nana Izakaya, has teamed up with the NPL to host an evening of pickleball, prosecco and live sushi-making. Because, why not? On Friday, February 23, ticketholders will head to NPL's The Jar to play a casual doubles round-robin while sipping on prosecco, before they get 1.5 hours of unlimited sushi and drinks. One of Ichi Ni's sushi masters will be pumping out maki rolls and nigiri from the small open kitchen, so guests can watch on after playing a few rounds of pickleball. These folks are absolute legends in the sushi game, so you'll want nab a front row seat to their show. What's on the menu for PICKLESUSHI? There'll be a selection of classic salmon and tuna nigiri, plus two of Ichi Ni's signature maki rolls. These will be the Ichi Ni maki roll — an inside-out roll filled with lobster, avocado and cucumber that's topped with flamed salmon and mayo — and the yasai roll made with inari, cucumber, avocado, daikon and sesame seeds. The crew has even made a special pickled sushi just for the event. This bad boy will feature ceviche kingfish and jalapeños. Pair these next-level after-work eats with wine, beer, seltzers and soft drinks from The Jar's bar — all included in the $90 ticket.
When Sleater-Kinney, aka Corin Tucker and Carrie Brownstein, take to the stage Down Under in May 2024, they won't just be touring their latest album. And they aren't simply making their first trip this way in eight years, since 2016, either. Started under the riot grrrl movement, the group will also celebrate 30 years since forming, plus just as long since they recorded their self-titled first record in a single night in Australia. That album has been followed by ten more studio releases, with Little Rope their latest. That gives the duo — after Janet Weiss left the band in 2019 — plenty to play through on a five-city visit to Australia and New Zealand, including at Melbourne's Forum Theatre on Sunday, May 19. [caption id="attachment_941980" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Justin Higuchi via Wikimedia Commons.[/caption] Sleater-Kinney have a stack of US dates locked in before heading this way, and will then make their way around Europe in August. Everywhere they play, fans can expect tunes from Little Rope — including singles 'Hell' and 'Say It Like You Mean It' — likely alongside past tracks such as 'One More Hour', 'Worry with You' and 'Jumpers'. As well as their three decades together — with a hiatus between 2007–13, between 2005's exceptional The Woods and 2015's No Cities to Love — Tucker has stints with Heavens to Betsy, Cadallaca, The Corin Tucker Band and Filthy Friends to her name, while Brownstein co-created and co-starred in Portlandia. Carol, Transparent, Curb Your Enthusiasm and Irma Vep are also on Brownstein's filmography. [caption id="attachment_941986" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Raph_PH via Wikimedia Commons[/caption]
Dev Patel means business in Monkey Man, both on- and off-screen. Starring in the ferocious vengeance-dripping action-thriller, he plays Kid, a man on a mission to punish the powers that be in Yatana (a fictional Indian city inspired by Mumbai) for their injustices, and specifically for the death of his mother Neela (Adithi Kalkunte, who Patel worked with on Hotel Mumbai) when he was a boy. As the film's director, producer and co-writer, he isn't holding back either, especially in adding something to his resume that no other project has offered in his almost two decades as an actor since Skins marked his on-camera debut. Dev Patel: action star has an excellent ring to it. So does Dev Patel: action filmmaker. Both labels don't merely sound great with Monkey Man; this is a frenetic and thrilling flick, and also a layered one that marries its expertly choreographed carnage with a statement. In the post-John Wick action-movie realm, it might seem as if every actor is doing features about formidable lone forces taking on their enemies. Patel initially began working on Monkey Man over ten years ago, which is when Keanu Reeves (The Matrix Resurrections) first went avenging, but his film still acknowledges what its viewers will almost-inevitably ponder by giving John Wick a shoutout. Thinking about the Charlize Theron (Fast X)-led Atomic Blonde and Bob Odenkirk (The Bear)-starring Nobody is understandable while watching, too — but it's The Raid and Oldboy, plus the decades of Asian action onslaughts and revenge-filled Korean efforts around them, that should stick firmest in everyone's mind. All directors are product of their influences; however, Patel achieves the rare feat of openly adoring his inspirations while filtering them through his exact vision to fashion a picture that's always 100-percent his own (and 100-percent excellent). In a city that has a Gotham-New York relationship with its real-life counterpart, Kid isn't a feared assassin who other hitman consider the boogeyman. While Batman nods come through, too, he's definitely not a wealthy man about town with a secret alter ego as a saviour cleaning up the corruption that's darkening the streets. The second part is his aim, just without the cash to fund it — but before that fantasy can fall into place, he's donning a monkey mask and playing the pawn to brawnier wrestling opponents, as the sunglasses-wearing Tiger (Sharlto Copley, Patel's Chappie co-star) emcees. Losing earns him a living. It also lets him hone his fighting skills. And, it's a time-biding tactic, as Kid works his way closer to Yatana's most powerful, such as Chief of Police Rana (Sikandar Kher, Aarya), plus Sovereign Party leader and guru Baba Shakti (Makarand Deshpande, RRR). (Parallels with reality that punch through Kid's quest aren't by accident, with IRL news footage weaved in to stress the point). His stepping stone to his targets: getting a job with Queenie Kapoor (Ashwini Kalsekar, Merry Christmas), who runs restaurant-slash-brothel King's Club, which services the well-to-do. In a gig that nabs him a friend in fellow employee Alphonso (Pitobash, Prachand), Kid says that he'll do anything. He isn't lying when it comes to using his position as a means to play out the vendetta against the man who made him an orphan, as well as the Hindu nationalist organisation leader that the latter is tied to. Patel and co-writers John Collee (Boy Swallows Universe, and another Hotel Mumbai alum) and Paul Angunawela (Keith Lemon: The Film) entwine flashbacks to Kid's childhood, heartbreak and getting comeuppance for it furnishing his backstory. They also knit in Hanuman, the Hindu deity that their protagonist was told stories about when he was young — as was Patel himself — and now draws upon, as assisted by India's third-gender hijras population, as if he's becoming the monkey god himself. Originally, Monkey Man wasn't set to bounce its kinetic brutality through cinemas, nor Patel's gravitas-laced action-star performance or Sharone Meir's high-octane, often neon-lit cinematography (which follows his lensing of Silent Night, another flick about one man seeking retribution against the unscrupulous for a shattering loss). Netflix was due to be its home, then Jordan Peele's (Nope) Monkeypaw Productions stepped in to help lock in a big-screen date. (Peele, who made his own blistering filmmaking debut with Get Out, knows the route that Patel is walking intimately). The vision for Monkey Man was clearly bigger from the outset, though, and not just via frays that dance with raw energy and prove a dazzling spectacle worthy of a movie theatre's giant canvas. It's impossible not to notice that this, like much in film of late, is an origin story. Monkey Man is a calling card several times over, then: for Patel kicking ass and killing it, for the actor-turned-director behind the camera and for more to hopefully follow. To describe the aesthetic Monkey Man experience, paraphrasing The Nanny's theme tune (as thoroughly unrelated as it is) works: this has style, it has flair, and Patel is well and truly there. It has an infectious immediacy and intensity as well, aided by dizzying fist-to-fist bash, crash and smash clashes — melees that injure eyes, heads, throats, limbs and testicles alike — plus propulsive editing (by Joe Galdo, an additional editor on Ferrari; The Crowded Room's Dávid Jancsó; and Black Mirror alum Tim Murrell) and a mood-setting urgency in its score (by Australian composer Jed Kurzel, who was responsible for the sounds of Snowtown, The Babadook and Nitram). There's also meaning in the franticness as blood and sweat fly feverishly, with each face-off increasing in polish. Again, Kid as an unstoppable force isn't a given going into his first bout out of the ring. Patel hasn't become a hulking figure to look at. His character grows into the physicality of his mission, on a journey that apes his coming-of-age path — because crunching bones and smartly telling this tale aren't mutually exclusive. Paying tribute to genres and movies that Patel loves, including taking cues from the liveliness and enthusiasm of both Hong Kong actioners and Bollywood musicals, and even nodding to Nicolas Winding Refn's Drive and Only God Forgives; making a deep-feeling ode to Indian culture and myths; baking in a heated takedown of oppression, inequality and societal power used only for self-interest; exploring the impact faith has for better and for worse; honouring family: Monkey Man does it all. Patel also gives himself the kind of fierce showcase that's worlds away from the likes of Skins, Slumdog Millionaire, his Oscar-nominated Lion performance and The Personal History of David Copperfield. If his portrayal has predecessors on his filmography, it's via The Wedding Guest and The Green Knight, both vastly different flicks that delivered glimpses of where Monkey Man now takes him. That destination: a passion project that's an arrival several times over for a talent crafting his dream flick with confidence and commitment, matching mayhem with a message, and knocking it out of Monkey Man's underground fight clubs, elevators, bathrooms, hallways and everywhere else where Patel wreaks intoxicating havoc.
If you're looking for an excuse to venture out of town for some regional autumn adventures, you'll find it about an hour's drive north of Melbourne. Over four weeks, the Macedon Ranges Autumn Festival is set to fire up all your senses with another region-wide program of interactive art, garden tours, markets, music, and top-notch food and drink. Showcasing the Macedon Ranges' many diverse charms, the fun is unfolding across several local villages from Friday, April 5–Sunday, April 28 — and the offerings are endless. The famed Macedon Ranges Autumn Pie and Tart Trail will have you hunting down and sampling all kinds of pastry perfection, the Edgy Veg Trail is set to showcase the area's plant-based gems and a series of Tipple Trails lets you unearth local goodness of the liquid variety. And for the first time, young and old explorers can embark on the Macedon Ranges Autumn Festival Treasure Trail. Gather up some food from the festival and follow clues around the region as you pass through eight picturesque picnic spots. Those who complete the trail will also go in the running to win festival goodies. Throw in a few tours through historic gardens, food-filled farmers' markets, mushroom foraging workshops, artist-led painting classes and lots of live music pop-ups, and you might just decide to relocate here for the entire month. Images: Chloe Smith Photography for Visit Macedon Rnges
If summer screams ice cream to you, then there's only one way to start the season: indulging in your favourite frosty treat. That's great advice in general, but gelato chain Gelatissimo has an even better spin on it. Hit up one of its 43 stores around the country across a five-hour period and you'll nab $3 scoops. The date: Thursday, December 1. The time: between 4–9pm at all Melbourne shops. The offer: creamy gelato for just a couple of gold coins, all to celebrate the official start of the warm weather and indulge in a dessert staple. Thursday, December 1 also happens to be the day that Gelatissimo is releasing its latest limited-edition flavour, which is both summery and festive: smashed berry pavlova. So, you can add that to your list of cheap scoops — in a cone or cup, it's up to you — complete with vanilla bean gelato swirled with blueberry sauce, then topped with Aussie-made meringue pieces and strawberry puree. Fancy a year's worth of gelato afterwards? We all do. The chain is running a competition to make your dessert dreams come true for 12 months, as long as you tag @gelatissimogelato between December 1–13 and and add #gelatissimosummer to your post.
If you're partial to a spot of after-hours eating, drinking and shopping, you'll be glad to know the QVM's night market game is kicking up a gear next month. Not only has its much-loved Summer Night Market returned for a fresh season of Wednesday night fun, but the String Bean Alley Christmas Night Market is also making a comeback, spreading festive cheer every Monday from December 5–19. Head along to tick off that Christmas gift list by stocking up on a range of handmade goodies from local artisans. Then, once you've worked up an appetite, you can fuel up with bites like Pasta Face's fresh pasta dishes, Tex-Mex fare courtesy of Dingo Ate My Taco and gingerbread treats from Can't Catch Me, along with an offering of local sips. There'll be plenty of photo-friendly festive happenings to get you in the spirit, too, from Santa visits and Christmas carollers, to dustings of faux snow and a super-sized gingerbread man.
UPDATE, December 17, 2022: Strange World opened in cinemas on Thursday, November 24, and streams via Disney+ from Friday, December 23. In the Disney: The Magic of Animation exhibition that's doing the global rounds, including not one but two stops Down Under so far, spectacular concept art is the star. Walt Disney Animation Studios has made 61 films to-date, a selection of which are celebrated throughout the eye-catching showcase — and it's the intricately drawn and painted images used to help finalise the look of Fantasia, Bambi, Alice in Wonderland, Sleeping Beauty, The Little Mermaid and more that truly shimmer. That's the magical art behind the on-screen art, with every piece proving stunning when framed on a wall. So would the work behind Strange World, the Mouse House studio's latest movie. Actually, so would each image of its titular realm in the big-screen end result. Even by Disney animation standards, saying that this flick is visibly dazzling is a hefty understatement Strange World needs to be a visual knockout; when a title nods to an extraordinary and otherworldly place, it makes a promise. Director Don Hall and co-helmer/screenwriter Qui Nguyen, who last worked together as filmmaker and scribe on the also-resplendent Raya and the Last Dragon, meet that pledge with force — aka the movie's trademark approach. Strange World goes all-in on hallucinogenic scenery, glowing creatures and luminous pops of colour (pink hues especially) that simply astound. Indeed, calling it trippy is also an understatement. The picture is equally as zealous about its various layers of messaging, spanning humanity's treatment of the planet, learning to coexist with rather than command and conquer our surroundings, and navigating multigenerational family dynamics. A feature can be assertive, arresting and entertaining, however, because this is. Clade patriarch Jaeger (Dennis Quaid, Midway) can also be described as strong-willed and unsubtle, much to his son Searcher's (Jake Gyllenhaal, Ambulance) frustration. In the mountainous land of Avalonia, the former is a heroic explorer intent on seeing what's on the other side of those peaks — a feat that's never been achieved before — but the latter pleas for staying put, spotting a curious plant on their latest expedition and wanting to investigate its possibilities. Doing anything but bounding forth isn't the Clade way, Jaeger contends, sparking an icy father-son rift. Jaeger storms off, Searcher goes home, and Avalonia is revolutionised by pando, the energy-giving fruit from that just-discovered plant, over the next quarter-century. Then, in a locale that now enjoys electricity, hovering vehicles and other mod cons, the natural resource suddenly seems to start rotting from the root. Hall and Nguyen introduce their story in perky, pithy, old-school newsreel-style, with a tone-setting montage of Jaeger and Searcher's past adventurous feats — more of which can only follow. As much as Searcher rallies against retracing his father's footsteps and openly resents the expectation that traversing the land is in his blood, the pando crisis means he's the obvious choice to join President Callisto Mal (Lucy Liu, Death to 2021) on a journey down deep to see what's going on. Over the last 25 years, Searcher has become a husband to pilot Meridian (Gabrielle Union, Truth Be Told) and a dad to 16-year-old Ethan (Jaboukie Young-White, Only Murders in the Building), though, and is content in his farmer life. In contrast, the youngest Clade is raring to go, stowing away for the trip. That said, Ethan does share his father's yearning to want for embracing his own calling, rather than merely towing the family line. From the moment that Strange World's adolescent point of focus would rather be flirting with his cute crush Diazo (Jonathan Melo, American Horror Story) than doing his pando chores, the feature's history-repeating storyline is apparent. 'Tis the year for both Disney and cinema in general to address the weight assumptions that parents put on their kids, plus the pressure to chart a prescribed path, as Pixar's Turning Red similarly did, and Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio, and sci-fi standout Everything Everywhere All At Once as well. If the first word in its moniker didn't make it plain, Strange World's visit to an underground realm that's upside down from the regular domain, populated with unusual creatures and perilous to humans also gives off big Stranger Things — but family-friendly — vibes. The Mouse House's Treasure Planet springs to mind, too, as do Jules Verne's contributions to literature. And, unsurprisingly when it comes to big eco messages and animation, Studio Ghibli's Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind and Princess Mononoke got there first. Don't discount the impact that marrying familiar ideas with magnificent and mesmerising imagery can have, however, with Strange World's captivating aesthetic offering more than just pretty pictures. Those gorgeous visuals reflect the movie's open heart about embracing a vibrant existence, which Nguyen's screenplay lets sprout and spread in a heaving forest's worth of ways. It's there in belatedly giving Disney's animated flicks their first-ever out gay teenage lead character, in letting that fact be a regular narrative detail rather than the story's focus and in having Ethan value the dreamy subterranean domain the Clades find themselves in for what it is, for starters. Strange World knows that to see is to feel, and that that applies to overdue representation and environmental messaging alike. There's also a twist that hammers home the need to appreciate and respect the living world we're lucky enough to inhabit, and to revel in all of its diversity, but the film's frames make its statement anyway from the outset. The lush flora and fauna, the landscapes that could've backdropped 60s sci-fl, the cute blob named Splat that seems to be a friend: all of this draws Strange World's audience in and makes them cherish every single last piece. Accordingly, as heavy-handed as the movie is about its parallels with the present state of the earth, and as easily pieced-together as its rollicking adventure plot is, those beguiling sights — aka the animated film's version of David Attenborough-esque visuals — back everything up. Also, given the urgent importance of recognising the planet's fossil fuel-reliant predicament, plus the need to address the climate change that's springing as a result, a lack of nuance is hardly uncalled for. And while using a flick to lay the groundwork for more to come is one of modern cinema's worst traits, especially the Mouse House's, the ambitious Strange World closes out with ample intrigue to inspire further chapters — and to keep viewers coming back to this entrancing land.
It's less than a year old, but Victoria's new statewide music program Always Live has left a giant impression on our live music calendar, filling the year with gigs from a dazzling spread of homegrown and international acts. And to wrap up a big 2022, they've got something special in store for you — a secret free live show by legendary Zambian-born musician Sampa the Great. Yep, the ARIA Award-winning artist is dropping by Melbourne for a free gig at 1pm on Saturday, December 10. You'll catch her at Always Live's pop-up recording studio SoundBox, which is currently hosting a program of performances, interviews and workshops in the Arts Centre Melbourne forecourt (November 30–December 11). The renowned artist will be playing hits from her celebrated, guest-packed album As Above, So Below, including 'Never Forget', which gets a run in the Black Panther: Wakanda Forever trailer. [caption id="attachment_811633" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Sampa the Great, Lucian Coman[/caption] Top Image: Jordan Munns.
Conservative Queensland meets the ancient Roman Empire in this epic piece of social satire from local theatremakers MKA. Set in an alternate version of 2013, Eric Gardiner's Bounty lampoons Queensland's ex-premier Campbell Newman and his battle with the state's bikie gangs, reimagining the politician as a dictatorial Roman emperor forcing criminals to fight against each other as gladiators in the ring. A treatise on vice, radicalisation and moral panic in Australian society, the production looks like just the right mix of incisive and absurd. This event is one of our top ten picks of the Melbourne Fringe Festival. Check out the other nine here.
When a Tumblr phenomenon gets its own real-life exhibition, you know we are living in a brave new world. As part of the Melbourne Fringe Festival, WTF Renaissance will set up at the Lithuanian club for a free exhibition featuring new work from these masterminds of memes and lols. For those who are yet to stumble across this comedic gold, WTF Renaissance, in their own words, puts together "Paintings that are old as f*ck, with captions that are modern as shit." Hilarity ensues. This is the second time WTF Renaissance have exhibited their comedy gold, and when something is back by popular demand, you know it’s worth dropping in on. Find them at the Fringe Club, part of the Melbourne Fringe Festival, at the Lithuanian Club.
Every man and his dog will be in the city this Saturday night, for a special event at Melbourne's newest open-air cinema. Located in QV Square on level two of the CBD shopping complex, QV Outdoor Cinema is an 80-seat deckchair theatre screening a mix of retro and new release titles throughout summer. On this particular evening, however, they're going beyond just showing a movie. You've heard of 'babes in arms' film sessions? This is kind of like that...only for pooches. Doors open at 7.30pm for patrons on two legs and four, with the screening itself preceded by an adorable doggie costume parade — so it's best you start planning your furry friend's outfit now. Money raised from ticket sales will go straight to The Lost Dogs Home, who'll also be on hand with information on how you can adopt or foster a shelter dog in need. As for the movie, well, what could be more appropriate than Christopher Guest's hilarious mockumentary Best in Show? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yeifMjqpsg0
After a smashing run last year, The Royal Croquet Club returns once more to get our summer off to a good start. Birrarung Marr will be transformed into the garden party of your dreams, with a specially curated food and drink lineup, plenty of awesome bands and DJs, and, of course, a spot of croquet if your heart desires. Foodie offerings for this year include Gazi, Bluebonnet Barbecue, Lady Carolina, Mamasita, Pidapipo, Ruyi and Tokyo Tina. As for musical delights, get ready for ALPINE, Nina Las Vegas, Touch Sensitive, GRMM, KLP, Lucille Croft, Paces, POOLCLVB and Running Touch. Did we mention entry for all of this is free? Grab yourself a snazzy summer cocktail and settle in for a night of great food, music, and posh garden sports.
The much-anticipated Andy Warhol | Ai Wei Wei exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria is playing host to yet another outstanding lineup of live music for Friday Nights at the NGV. A ticket to one of these evenings gets you after-hours entry to the summer’s most talked about exhibition, as well as talks, food and bars, DJ sets in the NGV Garden and live music performances in the Great Hall. For this summer's program the musical line-up consists of both Australian and International acts, covering all bases from psychedelic prog rock to synth pop, indie, folk and electronica. Performers include Neon Indian, Moon Duo, The Apartments, Jack Ladder & The Dreamlanders, Luluc, Sally Seltmann, Twerps, Bertie Blackman and Regurgitator, just to name a few. To check out the full lineup, and to see who is playing and when, head to the NGV website.
Listen up, you scruffy-looking nerf herders. Star Wars: The Force Awakens is in theatres in less than a fortnight, and the anticipation is tearing through us like a hungry wampa through a tauntaun. Luckily, the team at Silver K Art Gallery have got exactly the right thing to tide us over until midnight on opening day. Commissioned by Lucasfilm, The Art of Star Wars features more than 150 pieces of original art that takes visitors "on a journey through the life and times of the whole Star Wars saga". You can check out samples on the gallery website – trust us, your inner geek will thank you. All in all, it's the largest exhibition of Star Wars art to ever hit Australia. The exhibition also features a number of artworks inspired by iconic superheroes, which should inspire plenty of conversations about whether Darth Vader could beat Loki in a fight. Spoiler alert: he totally could.
The very last Thylacine, better known as the Tasmanian Tiger, died in a zoo in Hobart in September 1936. Almost eight decades later, Justine Campbell and Sarah Hamilton tell the tale of its extinction. Inspired in part by Hamilton's great-aunt and her famous photograph of one of the last Tasmanian Tigers in captivity, I Saw a Thylacine tells the story of two women — one the daughter of a zookeeper, the other a thylacine tracker — as they reflect on how the elusive animal influenced their lives. Campbell and Hamilton both wrote and star in the production, which has enjoyed no shortage of acclaim since it first debuted at the 2013 Melbourne Fringe Festival. In particular, critics have commended the play for the attention it gives to the experiences of Australian women during the 1930s.
Things are lighting up after dark in St Kilda, with the launch of the first ever Acland Street Projection Festival. Part of this year's Melbourne Fringe, this nine-day event will feature dazzling projections from local and national artists — including several dipping their toes into the medium for the very first time. Each work has been specially selected to suit its location, with the goal of highlighting the architecture and atmosphere of this iconic southside strip. The inaugural edition of ASPF begins on Friday, September 11 at 5.30pm, with a fundraising event and silent auction at the RSL Memorial Hall. But the real fun begins once the sun dips below the ocean, as buildings, laneways and at least one of the street's beloved cake shops are transformed into giant canvases overflowing with light. The festival runs each night from dusk through to midnight until Sunday, September 20. If you're planning to check it out, make sure you rug up warm — winter may technically be over, but it can still get rather chilly that close to the water.
Bangarra's latest work, lore, celebrates the passing-down of knowledge from one generation to the next. For 25 years, Bangarra has created dance works to enlighten audiences about how Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures survive today. As its title suggests, lore is no different in providing a stage for ancient spirituality to meet the 21st century. lore is a double bill, and making the rounds to Canberra, Wollongong, Brisbane and Melbourne, following a successful premiere at the Opera House on June 11. Seasoned choreographer Frances Rings' Sheoak is followed by I.B.I.S, by Deborah Brown and Waangenga Blanco, in their choreographic debut. Both Sheoak and I.B.I.S. transport the viewer to sacred places, whether at the roots of an all-giving Grandmother tree or surveying the beauty of the Torres Strait. Bangarra never shies away from social commentary; the works address everything from climate change to racial inequality. Yet in the staunch declarations of identity onstage, there is a constant look to the future, with hope.
Get northside this weekend when Shadow Electric takes up residence in historic Estonian House. The team behind Abbotsford Convent's much-loved band room and outdoor cinema are staging a weekend-long invasion of the Brunswick venue, presenting a live program of music accompanied by projections and video art on their 34 square metre portable screen. The fun begins on Friday night with a performance by synth pop/alt rock act Teeth & Tongue, with supporting acts Pearls and The Ocean Party. Saturday evening will welcome Rat & Co along with Klo, Hoodlem and North Pollard, while Sunday will see an afternoon appearance by web series sensations Juice Rap News, followed by a night time performance by Bombay Royale and additional guests yet to be announced. Doors open at Estonian House from 7pm.
Another year, another Woody Allen film — because that’s how frequently the writer/director makes and releases movies. Of course, with being prolific comes adhering to a template, particularly concerning his fondness for romantic and moral quandaries. In Irrational Man, womanising college philosophy professor Abe Lucas (Joaquin Phoenix) and precocious student Jill Pollard (Emma Stone) are the intertwined parties, swiftly warming to each other outside of class and soon overstepping the normal bounds of a teacher-pupil relationship. He's also seeing another faculty member (Parker Posey), and she has a boyfriend (Jamie Blackley), yet their intellectual bond can't help veering towards the physical. Anyone familiar with Allen's work will be prepared for the walking, talking and bantering to come, although in this case, the filmmaker prefers duelling narration — voiced by both lead characters, and conveying their innermost thoughts about each other — over dialogue. Anyone familiar with Allen's work will also be prepared for the necessary complications, here manifesting in the fate of a corrupt judge the would-be couple overhear a stranger complaining about. Indeed, once more continuing down the auteur's typical path, an existential crisis sits at the centre of the film. Just like in Blue Jasmine, Midnight in Paris and Whatever Works before it, Irrational Man endeavours to reconcile midlife malaise through amorous entanglements and ethical dilemmas; however, where those features more overtly played with drama, time travel and comedy respectively, this favours mystery. What does it take to reignite someone's zest for the life is the movie's ultimate question. Of course, even playing it straighter and more serious than usual, the answer comes in typical offbeat Allen fashion. It also comes with the filmmaker's repeated penchant for a hefty age difference, though both Phoenix and Stone rank among the film's highlights. Both convey their characters' transitions by playing to their strengths, and add plausibility to a script that doesn't demonstrate it otherwise. Sure, we've seen him both depressed and vibrant before, and her everything from sensible to swept away to cynical too, but familiarity with their performances doesn't breed contempt. That they share a natural rapport that makes the audience happy to spend time in their company also helps. Elsewhere, all the other Allen hallmarks are evident in what proves an enjoyable but expected affair: a jazzy score that adds a light tone to the weighty musings, warm colours that revel in the film's surroundings, and ample shots of the two stars basking in each other's presence. In fact, if Irrational Man feels like a compilation of the writer/director's usual beats, preferences and stories, that's because it is, as even casual viewers of his fare should recognise. Perhaps that's just what comes with crafting 50 films in 50 years. At this stage of his career, Allen is simply making what he wants — and what he wants is to delve into the same territory over and over again.
Maybe you remember Miami Horror from your playlist for blissed-out summer parties circa 2010, when their hit single 'Sometimes' did the club circuit and went on solid rotation in backyards nationwide. We haven't heard much from them since those days, but the Melbourne electronic-pop four-piece haven't been laying low. Instead, they've taken up residence in Los Angeles, where they've been busy working on album number two (or as busy as you can get in a land of perpetual sunshine, palm trees and too many dreams). The result is the sometimes-funky, sometimes-dreamy, almost 'too happy' All Possible Futures, released earlier this year. They’re bringing their fresh new LA-inspired sound back home, with a five-date east coast tour this August. Reacquaint yourself with these guys by giving 'Love Like Mine' and 'Real Slow' a listen, then grab yourself a ticket. How sweet is rediscovery? [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iRhVsVT3mPM[/embed]
After a career that’ll give you opportunity to help, change and inspire? In a twist on the traditional careers fair, international brewers of ideas and talent Think Education are hosting the Festival of Change on Saturday, August 22. Major drawcards of the day are the keynote speakers: writer/director/co-producer of That Sugar Film (the highest-grossing Aussie doco ever) Damon Gameau, editor of Frankie magazine and queen of twee Jo Walker, and the managing and creative director of Mimco Cathryn Wills. There’ll be workshops on everything from fermented food making to typography, plus experts on hand to answer your questions and give you the lowdown on all the courses on offer at Think Education campuses — across business, health, hospitality and design. Did we mention admission is free, and keynote addresses are just five bucks a pop? Whether you’re a budding entrepreneur with a million and one new app ideas, or you’re flailing and wondering what on earth you’re going to do with the rest of your life (or at least the next few years), this fest has got you covered. Find your passion or not, you're pretty much guaranteed to leave more inspired than you arrived. Register for workshops and other good stuff here.
When it comes to fashioning a successful rom-com, finding the right blend of romance and raunchiness is a delicate balancing act. If too much of the former is present, the film can wallow in cliché and sappiness. If too much of the latter rears its head, the physical side of things can overtake the emotional aspects. Sleeping With Other People might boast a title seemingly aligned more with one of these camps than the other; however this amusing, endearing look at the lives and loves of reunited college classmates happily finds the middle ground. Sexually candid dialogue combines with sweetness, yet never of the syrupy variety. The movie's characters want a happy ending, but they want to earn it — and they want it in all its forms. In 2002, Lainey (Alison Brie) and Jake (Jason Sudeikis) meet during a dorm room altercation, start chatting about matters of the heart and body, and then lose their virginity to each other on the same night. Twelve years later, they cross paths at a sex addiction group, with both harbouring intimacy and commitment issues that plague their dating encounters. Sparks fly, though given their respective romantic troubles, they agree they'd be better off remaining as pals. That decision starts to haunt them as they realise that their bond has all the hallmarks of a relationship, other than the slipping between the sheets part. There's never any doubt that both Lainey and Jake are frequently thinking about being more than friends — and while the course the largely brightly-shot Sleeping With Other People bounces along isn't difficult to foresee, the film is primarily concerned with them fighting that urge. For the central duo, they're trying to flee from their past problems and approach romance with maturity for a change. For writer/director Leslye Headland (Bachelorette), she's attempting to explore the non-bump-and-grind aspects of falling in love. That means that a scenario that seems ripped from the familiar actually becomes much more thoughtful, stripping away the schmaltz and adding an ample dose of authenticity. It's also ripe for comedy, whether flinging fast-paced, filthy dialogue between the protagonists (or fellow cast members Natasha Lyonne, Jason Mantzoukas, Amanda Peet and Marc Blucas as various friends and lovers), joyously enjoying Brie getting her groove back by dancing to David Bowie's 'Modern Love', or finding humorous truths in darker, more reflective moments. Of course, banter infused with wit, wisdom and warmth is only part of the rom-com package, however relatable it proves. As the genre has demonstrated time and again, getting audiences to actually believe the connection between the characters is a large part of the hard work. Here, Sleeping With Other People benefits from excellent casting, as fans of Community and Saturday Night Live will already know. Brie and Sudeikis dial up the chemistry that the film so crucially relies upon, yet never at the expense of fleshing out their roles. That mix of the expected and textured is the movie's ultimate balancing act, and serves it as well as it does it stars. Sleeping With Other People knows you know what's going to happen, but filters it through frankness, upbeat realism and an engaging double act, resulting in a rom-com delight that feels as genuine as it does honest.
You put up the money. You helped stomp the grapes. Now, the people-powered winemakers at Noisy Ritual are inviting you back to put a cork in 2015 — literally. After getting off the ground earlier in the year with crowdfunding support from a group of wine-loving locals, the Preston-based urban winery has produced six batches of homemade vino which they're now about to bottle. So naturally, they're using it as an excuse to throw a party. Cracking open their casks on the evening of Saturday, November 21 in a Brunswick East warehouse space, the Noisy Ritual Bottling Party will be your very first chance to try their 2015 vintage – straight from the bottle you helped pour it into. In addition to the wine, there'll be food by Forge Woodfired Pizza and music from Broadway Sounds, Pink Tiles and a number of local DJs. We'll drink to that.
Having a bad Wednesday? This will fix what ales you. The good people at Beer DeLuxe Federation Square are going to make your hump day easier to swallow with their summer-long Wednesday eve events. Spread over two levels and a beer garden, Beer DeLuxe are known for their excellent range of craft brews. The large beer garden will play host to kegfuls of local and international brews, as well as some of Melbourne's favourite food trucks every Wednesday throughout summer. Tapping into the post-work drinks market for hungry and thirsty city office workers seems like the perfect match for the venue, and should be perfect for balmy summer nights. Don't worry about those surprise cold Melbourne evenings though — if it gets drafty outside there's plenty of indoor seating available. The schooner you come down to try this hop-up event, the better. Good times will surely flow. Beer DeLuxe's Summer Hop Up will run every Wednesday from 6pm to late.
Sneak on down to Port Melbourne this Sunday for the ultimate sneaker swap meet. Presented by Mitchell & Ness along with Sneaker Freaker magazine, the Sneaker Freaker Swap Meet is being billed by organisers as "the biggest celebration of sneaker culture in our corner of the world." Translation: over 100 stalls selling the latest sneakers along with clothing, collectibles, toys, records and more. The fun begins at 10am on October 25 at the Globe Warehouse in Port Melbourne — every inch of which will be occupied by vendors hawking their wares. Whether you're looking for a bargain or plan to drop some serious dough, odds are you'll find something worth lacing up. Expect every brand and style under the sun, as well as a selection of Melbourne's favourite food trucks to help keep you on your feet. Uncle Rocco's Barbershop will be on hand too, in case you want a shave to go along with your new shoes.
For Melbourne Music Week a church in the CBD will be transformed into an interactive installation, featuring a large organic sculpture that is paired with an original, ethereal soundscape. Plus, come the night of Tuesday, November 17, the installation will convert into a performance space, where Melbourne’s most talked about emerging female artists will take the stage. The lineup for the evening includes Ella Thompson, Woodes, Tash Parker, Sui Zhen and Eliza Hull. Art, music, fashion and floral design come together for a gorgeous evening of performance.
When it comes to The Diary of a Teenage Girl, it appears it's all there in the name. The film does indeed rifle through the innermost thoughts of a youth on the cusp of womanhood. It also charts a coming-of-age journey. Boys are involved, as well as acts of rebellion, plus arguments with those in positions of authority. So far, so standard, but thankfully there's more to this amusing adolescent awakening. Actually, the stirring that is central to the movie happens both on screen and off. In the story, San Francisco-based 15-year-old Minnie Goetze (Bel Powley) follows her urges into an affair with the two-decades-older Monroe (Alexander Skarsgård), who also happens to be the boyfriend of her mother (Kristen Wiig). In charting her escapades, the film offers a frank and funny exploration of the teenage female experience, and clearly enjoys doing so. Life lessons are learned in both situations. It's not that Minnie's issues, as told to a tape recorder that doubles as her audio diary beginning on the day she first has sex, chart drastically new territory. Struggling with lust, love and the onset of maturity has been covered before, just rarely with such a judgment-free embrace of the awkward reality of the age group in focus, or with a no-holds-barred portrayal of teenage girlhood at its centre. The way in which first-time writer/director Marielle Heller presents the tale, adapting Phoebe Gloeckner's semi-autobiographical graphic novel of the same name, and overlaying spirited narration over upbeat antics before letting less glowing aspects of Minnie's life seep into both, certainly gives The Diary of a Teenage Girl a distinctive yet authentic glow. Using a '70s soundtrack to mirror its period setting, as well as working in animated interludes that mimic the lead character's dreams of becoming a cartoonist, similarly assist. Ample credit must also go to the exuberant Powley, who doesn't just make what could've been a conventional role credible, candid and complex — she makes it her own. Her version of Minnie strives and stumbles in a fashion both painfully and poignantly relatable to anyone who has been there and done that (been a teenage girl, that is). Her interpretation of the character ensures the contradictions of youth are completely understandable, be they fearlessness and fragility, optimism and uncertainty, or stubbornness and sincerity. That's she's the film's driving force and shining star is considerable feat, particularly for an actor otherwise only known for stealing the show in British princess-themed comedy A Royal Night Out earlier this year, and more so given the cast she's working with. Wiig playing dramatic and Skarsgård skirting the edge of creepiness are both great, as is Christopher Meloni in a brief appearance as Minnie's former stepfather, but the movie can only belong to one person. Yes, The Diary of a Teenage Girl lives up to its title, and that's something to celebrate.
