If you're due for your next Yarra Valley getaway, this might just be the weekend to do it. South Yarra's much-loved Leonard's House of Love is packing up its retrotastic food truck, hitting the road and descending on Four Pillars' Healesville headquarters in a blaze of deliciousness. Camping out at the much-loved distillery on Saturday, March 16 and Sunday, March 17, the burger maestros will be slinging an assortment of signature eats, from brisket cheeseburgers and a smoked mushroom burgers to vegan classics. And of course, at this spot, no one's going thirsty either. In at the bar, Four Pillars will have all your booze needs sorted, with gin tastings and flights, a range of house G&Ts, and a lineup of crafty gin cocktails to boot. Four Pillars is open from 10.30am–9pm on Saturday and 10.30am–5.30pm on Sunday.
If there's someone who knows how to do high tea right, it's the Mad Hatter. And, for just two weeks this April, he's taking over Altus Rooftop at Hotel Chadstone. Step out of your ordinary, predictable day — and into a topsy-turvy world where things aren't quite what they seem. You'll be treated to a feast of delightfully creative bites, backdropped by breathtaking views of the city. The deliciousness starts with savoury delights including Lilydale chicken, lathered in smoked apple gel and couched in buttermilk brioche; salmon cured with beetroot and layered with Beechworth honey cream cheese; and a slow-cooked beef brisket pie. But it's dessert where the Mad Hatter really shines. Look out for the White Rabbit sablé biscuit filled with a fun mix of bubblegum marshmallow and salted caramel, and the stunning gianduja cremieux chocolate pyramid cake. Also among the sweets are a salted caramel bombe infused with pistachio and passionfruit, and orange and white chocolate scones. The final touch is the magical pink potion – a brewed concoction made with forest berries and topped with berry pearls. There's a kid-friendly menu, too. Bookings (which are a must) are available any day of the week between Friday, 4 April, and Sunday, 20 April. There are multiple seatings per day — but just be sure not to be late for your very important date.
From Curtin House to Abbotsford Convent to the shores of St Kilda Beach, there are few things Melburnians seem to enjoy more than catching a movie under the stars. But pop-up cinemas tend to be a summer attraction, and those days are well and truly behind us. Luckily, there's a new operation in town perfectly suited to the wintery weather. Running Thursday to Sunday for six weeks in April and May at South Wharf's Common Man, Hot Tub Cinema lets you and your mates kick back in a six person inflatable hot tub while enjoying a different retro film title every night. Among the standouts are Ghostbusters, Labyrinth, The Karate Kid, Superbad, Bad Boys, Men in Black and Evil Dead. Each screening will also include a half hour intermission for you to grab a snack or replenish your cocktail, and will be followed by an aquatic-themed after party. For the complete Hot Tub Cinema program and to book tickets, go here.
If you're a fan of true-crime stories, then you'll know a disturbing truth: that there's no shortage of real-life tragedies that films and series in the genre can draw upon. White House Farm's inspiration comes from the notorious killings known as the White House Farm murders, which took place outside an Essex village and saw five members of the Bamber-Caffell family lose their lives, and continued to garner headlines intermittently in the decades since as appeals were lodged and reviews took place. Across six episodes, the show not only heads back to August 6, 1985, but also follows the investigation into the case. Feeling tense is part of the package, even if you're already familiar with the details. Cast-wise, Snatch's Stephen Graham and Game of Thrones' Mark Addy play the detectives trying to get to the bottom of the traumatic and complex situation — and fellow GoT alum Alfie Allen also pops up.
If you’re familiar with Cat Power (aka Chan Marshall), then you know how badass she is. Her singer-songwriter meets rock star persona sets her apart as one of the more unique musicians out there. Those who saw her at Golden Plains this past March know what we’re talking about. Don’t fret if you missed her then, because you’ll soon have another chance. Cat Power is crossing the pond again for an Australian tour this summer. Cat Power’s ten-show tour will kick off this January at the Sydney Festival. It was just announced that she would be a guest performer at the festival’s Big Star tribute show alongside Jody Stephens, Mike Mills (R.E.M.), Ken Stringfellow (The Posies), Chris Stamey (The dB’s), Mitch Easter (Let’s Active), Edwyn Collins and Kurt Vile. Power’s Sydney shows will continue the day after at the Circus Ronaldo Tent with a matinee and midnight show. After, she’ll continue down the coast, performing in Milton, Canberra, Melbourne, Menniyan and concluding in Perth. So if you haven’t heard Cat Power in a while, it’ll be worth hitting up one of her shows. Her newish album, Sun, is freshly awesome and and her blonde coif is shocking, but that’s why we love Cat. She always keeps you coming back for more.
Melbourne winters can be tough, but there are a few things that we can really enjoy in the colder months that don't quite hit the same in summer. Winter dining is truly something to look forward to. There's heart-warming comfort food with rich flavours, plus darker drinks like smokey whiskey and creamy stouts that are best served in a cosy pub when the wind is blowing outside. So, it's no surprise that Captain Melville, one of Melbourne's oldest and cherished pubs, will be host to a winter feast come Thursday, July 27. Captain Melville joins forces with renowned rye whiskey distiller The Gospel plus Tasmanian brewery Moo Brew to present 'The Captains Table' Rye July Dinner. The exclusive four-course dining event promises a night of rich flavours, to help us embrace winter in all its glory. Captain Melville chefs are putting together a carvery-style menu with each dish paired with a range of rye whiskey cocktails and dark stouts. While you feast, distillery and brewing experts will share insider knowledge and take you through a unique boilermaker experience. The event is part of the Gospel's Rye July, a clever homage to the often-underappreciated hero of whiskey. So expect to walk out with some rye whiskey knowledge to flex. Tickets will set you back $100 and are limited, so get in quick.
Brisbane rock five-piece Waax have been steadily gaining a following over the past few years. This month, they're set to cross the border for a gig in Byron as part of NSW Government initiative Great Southern Nights. They'll be playing at The Northern, situated right in the centre of Byron Bay and just a few minutes' walk from its famous Main Beach. Not that you'll be thinking of the surf when Waax lets rip with their take on alternative post-punk. Likened in the past to acts such as Siouxsie and the Banshees and Yeah Yeah Yeahs, their debut album, Big Grief — incidentally recorded in Byron Bay — just fell short of a place in the Top 10 last year. You can catch them at the coastal pub on Saturday, November 7 at 6pm or 9.30pm. For the latest info on NSW border restrictions, head here. If travelling from Queensland or Victoria, check out Queensland Health and DHHS websites, respectively.
If you love gin, you've probably floated the idea of making your own — especially after a few glasses of the stuff. Making gin isn't easy, but if you want to learn about the process, you've gotta go to the source: the gin makers. So take a break from swilling G&T's for $9 a pop at your local and learn how to create your own ~bespoke~ gin with Bass and Flinders Distillery this World Gin Day. The gin-sperts are leaving their post at Red Hill and setting up shop at Richmond's Romulus & Remus this Saturday for an afternoon of gin education and gin making. As well as a bit of a history lesson, the distillers will share their techniques and help you create your own signature gin — and if it's the best of the batch, it might even become Romulus & Remus' house spirit. Tickets are $80, which includes a full Italian spread, a bottle of your gin to take home and a lot of gin knowledge that's sure to impress your mates.
Hobart's long-running showcase of winemakers, Bottle Tops, is finally making its debut in Melbourne. Held at Hope St Radio, the event will feature 65 of innovative winemakers from across Australia and parts of New Zealand, Chile and Georgia, alongside a small selection of beer, cider and spirit producers. From 12–4pm on Sunday, June 9, ticket-holders can get four hours of tastings, a snack and glassware. Unusual and rare beverages will be offered by the glass throughout the day for those who want to experience something unique. For those who want to extend their weekend celebrations, you can also head along to the afterparty at Hope St Radio, which will have food, wine and DJs until late into the night. The initial lineup of exhibitors has been announced, featuring both established names and new participants, such as Lucy Margaux, Momento Mori, Chateau Acid, Fallow, LATTA, High Hopes, Jamsheed, North Wine, and many more. Tickets are priced at $75, which you can now purchase online.
Maggie Gyllenhaal and Hugh Dancy head up a stellar cast in Tanya Wexler's offbeat comedy Hysteria, based on the true story of Dr. Mortimer Granville — the man who created the world's first vibrator, back in 1880. In a search to cure the baffling female medical condition of the day, 'hysteria', the young doctor (played by Dancy) and his new boss Dr. Dalrymple (Jonathon Pryce) create the 'feather duster', offering women intimate manual relief from their condition – and, by chance, generating a surprising increase in business. The film is a joyful and light-hearted take on the birth of the sex toy, likely to put a knowing smile on a few faces in the audience. Concrete Playground has ten double passes to give away. To be in the running to win a pair of tickets to Hysteria, make sure you're subscribed to Concrete Playground then email your name and postal address to hello@concreteplayground.com.au
Comedians held up as the voice of Generation Y tend to make us a little bit sceptical. Still, after winning the Best Newcomer Award at last year’s Edinburgh Fringe, we’re willing to give New Yorker Alex Edelman the benefit of the doubt. Millennial marks the 25-year-old Edelman’s first trip to Australia, although we suspect it’ll be the first of many. Get in on the ground floor so you can brag about seeing him first.
To criticise a Tarantino film is an undertaking not without its share of reservation. Perhaps even trepidation. The first instinct is self-doubt: “Did I miss something? Was I simply in the wrong mood? Is three hours just the norm now?” After so many hits, there's an almost ‘infallibility’ to the man, a near reverential status through which both fans and critics dismiss any purported shortcomings as either misinterpretations or outright lunacy on your part. There’s no denying Tarantino’s talent – he’s a writer and director of extraordinary vision whose early films in particular command regular repeat viewing. But he is, ultimately, just a man. And men, and their movies, sometimes fall short of perfection. So, then, we come to The Hateful Eight, the opening titles of which declare it 'the 8th film by Quentin Tarantino’ (Kill Bill is counted as just one film for those playing at home). It’s also the second (though presumably not last) western from a director who recently said "you have to make at least three Westerns to call yourself a Western director. Anything else, you're just dabbling". Set in the unforgiving snowy mountains of Wyoming a few years after the Civil War, the film's a slow-burn thriller played out almost entirely in two tiny, cramped locations: a four-person stagecoach and an isolated cabin by the name of 'Minnie’s Haberdashery'. Cast-wise, many of the Tarantino regulars are there, along with a handful of newcomers. Kurt Russell leads the pack as John ‘the Hangman’ Ruth, a ridiculously moustachioed bounty hunter escorting wanted felon Daisy Domergue (Jennifer Jason Leigh) to the gallows. Along the way they happen upon two additional passengers: fellow bounty hunter Major Marquis Warren (Samuel L Jackson) and the soon-to-be local Sheriff Chris Mannix (Walton Goggins). Tarantino’s opening dialogues have become iconic, and this one's so long it comprises the entire first two ‘chapters’ of The Hateful Eight, accounting for almost a full hour of the film. It’s not without its charms, but compared to the unrelenting tension of Inglorious Basterds, or the glorious bastardry of Reservoir Dogs, this feels overblown and indulgent. By far its most compelling character is also its least involved: Daisy, a feral, black-eyed murderess whose wry smile after having her nose broken offers more menace and mystery than the sixty minutes of material that surrounds it. The remainder of the film plays out at Minnie’s, and if nothing else it’s a masterclass in cinematography. Shot on Ultra Panavision 70mm film stock (last used fifty years ago on Khartoum), Tarantino captures astounding depth and detail within an almost impossibly small space. It’s here, too, where we discover the rest of the ‘eight’: the loner cowboy (Michael Madsen), the Confederate General (Bruce Dern), the dandy Hangman (Tim Roth) and the Mexican stablehand (Demian Bechir). Trapped by the blizzard outside that absolutely makes you feel cold, suspicions steadily compound until, inevitably, tensions boil over into a phenomenally violent conclusion. That’s no spoiler, by the way. It’s just Tarantino. There’s still a lot to like about The Hateful Eight. The performances are outstanding, the story’s engaging and it’s peppered with all the usual Tarantino easter eggs (Red Apple cigarettes, anyone?). The score, too, by veteran composer Ennio Morricone is terrific, so unsettling it almost deserves to be christened the ‘hateful ninth’. Like Django Unchained before it, race relations (or the lack thereof) underscore much of the movie's themes, representing a definite politicalisation for the director, whose script offers up lines such as “when n****** are scared, that's when white folks are safe”, later countered with “the only time black folks are safe is when white folks is disarmed”. Ultimately, though, length returns as the film’s principal failing. It’s so long that some cinemas are even showing it with a 12-minute intermission, and it's hard not to escape the feeling that a concerted edit down to 90 minutes would have robbed it of nothing whilst ensuring the wonderful 'slow burn' steered clear of 'sluggishness'. …unless I just missed something? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gnRbXn4-Yis
It may sound like a cliché, describing a filmmaker as courageous. But when it comes to Jafar Panahi, it really is the only word that fits. For years, Panahi's films, including The Circle and Offside, drew the ire of censors in his native Iran for their frank depictions of the hardships felt by people, and particularly women, under the nation's conservative regime. This came to a head in 2010 when he was arrested on propaganda charges and later slapped with a 20 year ban from filmmaking – a ban he has been defying ever since. Tehran Taxi, which won the top prize at the Berlin Film Festival back in February, is Panahi's third film to be made under these restrictions, following This Is Not A Film in 2011 and Closed Curtain in 2013. Those films were shot in secret in his apartment and beachside villa, respectively. This time he's a little bolder, shooting surreptitiously from the inside of a cab as he drives it around the city, capturing his conversations with various passengers – including a schoolteacher, a lawyer and a thief – with a small dashboard camera. Whether these characters are real people or actors (or a combination of both) is intentionally left unclear, as Panahi playfully blurs the line between documentary and fiction. It's this playfulness and good humour that is key to the movie's success. In Panahi's previous two films, you can sense his frustration and feelings of helplessness – and given his situation, you can hardly hold that against him. They're fascinating works, and important, but more by virtue of their existence than their content. They feel like therapy, not films. Tehran Taxi, on the other hand, plays like a movie in its own right. Here, Panahi mixes the meta elements of his recent output with the shrewd social commentary of his pre-arrest work, all buoyed by a lightness and a cheekiness that makes it accessible to audiences far beyond the arthouse. Indeed, much of Tehran Taxi plays like a straightforward comedy. In one segment, a friendly vendor of pirated DVDs attempts to partner up with Panahi, reasoning that more people will buy his wares – including copies of Midnight in Paris and The Big Bang Theory – if he's working with a famous filmmaker. In another segment, Panahi must ferry two panicked, superstitious old women across town, so they might return their goldfish to a sacred spring in order to buy themselves another year of life. But the most delightful scenes belong to Panahi's young niece Hana, whose lively repartee with her uncle – after he picks her up an hour late from primary school – will leave you smiling from ear to ear. Of course even beneath the humour, Panahi's rebellious spirit shines through. Hana, we soon learn, wants to make a film herself, but she's baffled by the instructions of her school teacher, who insists that movies mustn't discuss political or economic issues, and that the students should remove anything dark or unpleasant. "There are realities they don't want shown," explains her uncle. In another scene, they give a ride to a friend of Panahi's, human rights lawyer Nasrin Sotoudeh, who is on her way to visit the family of a woman who has been imprisoned for trying to sneak into a volleyball game. Yet even the film's more more serious moments, or in its abrupt, unsettling ending, Tehran Taxi leaves viewers with a sense of hope. It's a film that throws the hypocrisy of oppressors back in their face, and does so with a wry sense of humour. We'll end this review with a quote from filmmaker Darren Aronofsky, who headed the Berlin Festival jury that awarded Panahi top honours. "Instead of allowing his spirit to be crushed and giving up, instead of allowing himself to be filled with anger and frustration, Jafar Panahi created a love letter to cinema. His film is filled with love for his art, his community, his country and his audience." https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qOAOxsHVTYk
Almost a quarter-century has passed since Keanu Reeves uttered four iconic words: "I know kung fu". The Matrix's famous phrase was also the entire movie-going world's gain, because watching Reeves unleash martial-arts mayhem is one of cinema's purest pleasures. Notching up their fourth instalment with the obviously titled John Wick: Chapter 4, the John Wick flicks understand this. They couldn't do so better, harder, or in a bloodier fashion, in fact. Directed by Keanu's former stunt double Chad Stahelski, who helped him look like he did indeed know wushu back in the 90s, this assassin saga is built around the thrill of its star doing his violent but stylish best. Of course, The Matrix's Neo didn't just know kung fu, but gun fu — and Jonathan, as The Continental proprietor Winston (Ian McShane, Deadwood: The Movie) still likes to call him, helps turn bullet ballet into one helluva delight again and again (and again and again). The John Wick movies — the first blasting into cinemas in 2014, John Wick: Chapter 2 hitting the target in 2017, John Wick: Chapter 3 — Parabellum shooting straight in 2019, and now this striking four years later — seem like they should be oh-so simple. Slip Keanu into a black suit, let his 90s grunge-style hair frame his face, get him next to an array of dazzling backdrops, let him raise hell against whoever is thrown his way: that's the basic formula. And, wanting nothing more than a quiet life with the dog left to him by his deceased wife, then the pets that've replaced that pooch since, the eponymous Wick doesn't like to overcomplicate anything. Witnessing a John Wick film, though, means seeing how much stunning action choreography, energetic cinematography, lightning-fast editing and stellar production design goes into making these pictures flow so smoothly. Reeves is so in his element that he'll always be remembered as John Wick (and Neo, Bill & Ted's Theodore 'Ted' Logan and Point Break's Johnny Utah), but the John Wick movies are spectacular technical achievements. All that gun-fu mastery spins through a story — one that is similarly straightforward, but also meticulously constructed to look and play that way. Initially, the happily retired but recently widowed John got dragged back into the hitman life over that aforementioned puppy and a full-hearted quest for revenge. Since then, that move keeps sparking consequences in an action franchise that mixes the western genre's gunslingers and crusades for vengeance, plus their strong, silent types and scenic use of backgrounds, with a musical's rhythm, steps and set pieces. So, Jonathan tried to stay out of the game. Then, he endeavoured to escape the death-for-hire business after its powers-that-be, aka the High Table, started meting out punishment for breaking their rules. Summing up the situation brings another epic crime saga's words to mind: "just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in!". Picking up where its immediate predecessor left off, John Wick: Chapter 4 saddles its namesake with the Marquis (Bill Skarsgård, Barbarian), the High Table's emissary, as his new adversary. After Wick puts the assassin realm's head honchos on notice during an early trip to the Middle East, the series' latest nefarious figure wants rid of him forever, wasting no time laying waste to the few things left that John loves. The Marquis has company, too — seeking a big payday in the case of the mercenary known as Tracker (Shamier Anderson, Son of the South), who has his own devoted dog; and due to a familiar deal with Caine (Donnie Yen, Mulan), a martial-arts whiz who is blind, and an old friend of John. That said, Wick has pals in this clash between the hitman establishment and its workers, which doubles as an eat-the-rich skirmish, including Winston, the Bowery King (Laurence Fishburne, All the Old Knives), and the Osaka Continental's Shimazu (Hiroyuki Sanada, Bullet Train) and Akira (Rina Sawayama, Turn Up Charlie). Retaliating against the High Table, and just trying to stay alive, involves jumps to Japan, Berlin and Paris — starting from New York, naturally — and shooting, stabbing, slicing and battling through hotels, nightclubs, apartment blocks and more. In the latter category sits two of the saga's most ambitious locations yet, where two of its most glorious fight scenes take place: the traffic circle around the Arc de Triomphe and the 222 steps up to Montmartre's Sacré-Coeur Basilica. Indeed, with Stahelski a four-film John Wick veteran, cinematographer Dan Laustsen (Nightmare Alley) up to three, and editor Nathan Orloff (Ghostbusters: Afterlife) dropping in seamlessly as a newcomer, all 169 minutes of John Wick: Chapter 4 is an action marvel. More John Wick has long been a good thing, whether more movies or more in those movies; the last hour here, as Wick and the Marquis' conflict sprawls across Paris, is the franchise's pièce de résistance. With frenetic frays such a focus, and so expertly and inventively executed — doorbell sensors and bulletproof vests have significant parts, gun fu becomes car fu, and filming flats from above is mesmerising — it'd be easy for anyone new to the ways of John Wick to assume that the plot is secondary. Or, that screenwriters Shay Hatten (returning from Chapter 3) and Michael Finch (American Assassin) have built John Wick: Chapter 4's narrative around the onslaught of carnage, not vice versa. These are lovingly crafted films, however — and layered and thoughtful, as seen when Winston name-drops Ned Kelly and his supposed last words "such is life". The John Wick series is deeply steeped in its own mythology, which swirls around John aka the Baba Yaga, the High Table's workings and love of retro tech, the various Continentals, and all the regulations that underscore the to-ing and fro-ing that leads to such a massive body count, so referencing an IRL figure also steeped in myth is a smart and knowing move. Casting has always worked comparably, drawing upon McShane's Deadwood standing, Lance Reddick's The Wire pedigree, Franco Nero's history as the OG Django in Chapter 2 and Skarsgård's time as Pennywise, for instance. No one is as immaculately cast in the John Wick universe as Keanu, who continues to invest everything into his stoic-faced character by playing it just right — never adding anything superfluous, never undercooking his performance, and always dancing through the franchise with the weight and agility it needs. Still, Yen is his absolute equal, to zero astonishment given that he's Donnie Yen. Physical feats so fleet that they stand out even in this highly physical flick, charm and wit in spades, pitch-perfect doses of comedy: they're all on show. Yen also delivers a gleaming Point Break nod, and owns John Wick: Chapter 4's debt to Japan's swordplay-heavy Zatoichi pictures (a homage he knows well thanks to Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, but he's not repeating himself). No matter how a John Wick movie finishes, it ends with viewers wanting more — and this is no exception, including more of Yen as Caine alongside Keanu.
Perhaps the rarest thing in Hollywood is the producer who says, “You know what? That was great, so let’s just leave it there”. As a result, we get sequels. Lots of sequels. Prequels, too, and spinoffs. One need only look at American food portions to recognise it’s not a nation possessed of the ability to know when enough is enough. The application of restraint (at least in the entertainment world) seems a decidedly British trait, sparing us from horrors like Love Actually 2: The Re-Loving or Slumdog Billionaire, and allowing gems like Faulty Towers to end after a mere 12 episodes, before there was any risk of overstaying its welcome. It’s not that sequels are bad, but there’s a grace to knowing when something should become a sequel (or even a franchise) and when something that’s both critically acclaimed and financially successful should nonetheless stand alone and untouched, forever. It’s not hard to see why 2012’s surprise hit Ted found itself a challenge to that notion of restraint. The film took in over half a billion dollars worldwide and, despite its often controversial content, proved one of the funner comedies of the year. It’s the kind of movie where you hear they’re making a sequel and you think, "yes, I laughed quite a lot in the first one, and I like laughing, so I’ll welcome more of that, thank you." Even the plot of the sequel offered a genuine extension of the original, with the living, breathing, foul-mouthed and pot-smoking teddy bear ‘Ted’ (voiced by writer/director Seth MacFarlane) told that his marriage to Tami-Lyn (Jessica Barth) has been nullified on account of him being deemed ‘property'. TED 2 hence finds itself a civil rights story that literally (and repeatedly) compares a teddy bear’s struggle to adopt a human baby with the plight of African slaves being considered human in the eyes of the law. Seth MacFarlane, ladies and gentlemen. Seth MacFarlane. Is it funny? Absolutely. MacFarlane is a clever and talented comedian who knows how to extract laughs from a variety of different setups, be they gross-out, shock value or pop-culture referential. But is it consistently funny? Not even close, and the quantity over quality approach means a lot of the film is rendered uncomfortably dull (or worse, offensive) as a result. The latter is particularly concerning, with racism, sexism and homophobia all rearing their heads over and over again in Ted 2, as though somehow MacFarlane has completely lost sight of the distinction between ‘confronting' and straight-up ‘wrong’. Drenching Mark Wahlberg’s character, John, in a shelf load of semen is a tough sell at the best of times, but suggesting his plight is made all the worse because it’s “black guy’s cum” demonstrates just how far off the mark Ted 2 consistently lands. When it gets things right, of course, the film shines. The opening titles are a delightfully choreographed musical number straight out of the golden age of cinema, and Liam Neeson’s brief cameo as a gravely serious man concerned about the purchase of cereal marketed strictly for children is terrifically funny. Amanda Seyfried, too, puts in a nice turn as both Ted’s lawyer and John’s love interest, even enduring constant barbs about her Gollum-esque eyes. But overall the film leaves a bad taste in your mouth and regret in your heart that the bottled lightning of the original couldn’t have just been left alone and untouched, forever.
Once a month, Melbourne’s own King of Sweets, Darren Purchese, puts on an unforgettable afternoon tea at The Langham. This Friday will be the last one for the year, so if you're a bit of a sucker for sugary goodness this could be a pretty delicious pre-Christmas treat. Darren's shop, Burch & Purchese Sweet Studio, has become well-renowned as one of Melbourne's top dessert destinations. Their bold flavour parings and inventive design draws a crowd all year round, and once you've had a bite of their Lamington Eclair, it’s pretty easy to see why. For the high-tea purists there'll also be The Langham’s signature fluffy scones, ribbon sandwiches and all the tea and coffee your heart desires. There are three session times available throughout the day: 10.30am-12pm, 12.30-2.30pm and 3pm-5pm. For those of you who have too much last-minute running around to do in December, don’t fret. The Burch & Purchese high teas will be running again once a month next year as well.
If you thought the rivalry between the north and the south of the river was intense, you don't know nothing about the battle between North and South Carolina. The two have a distinctive take on the food of the Deep South — and if you turn up to Rockwell and Sons on Sunday, March 1, you'll be able to find out why. As part of the Melbourne Food & Wine Festival, visiting master of the pit Rodney Scott will be championing South Carolina's barbecue, while Rockwell's Casey Wall will be doing it North Carolina style. Both will be featured on the special North-South one-day only menu, so you can decide for yourself. Bookings aren't necessary. Just rock up and grab a table. Menu items will be priced accordingly.
In 2011, in this very country and galaxy, a pop culture favourite gained a singing, stripping burlesque parody. It's the mash-up that was bound to happen. Who hasn't looked at George Lucas' space opera, its sprawling drama and ample spectacle, and wondered what a steamier, funnier version with more visible butt cheeks would look like? Russall S. Beattie clearly did, and had a good feeling that other people would give it a shot. The Empire Strips Back was the end result. It became a hit around Australia, then took itself overseas to much acclaim. Now it's returning home for a 2020 tour — once again showing local audiences that lightsabers aren't the hottest thing in the Star Wars galaxy. The saucy show promises "seriously sexy stormtroopers, a dangerously seductive Boba Fett, some tantalising Twi'leks, a delightfully lukewarm Taun Taun, a lady-like Skywalker [and] the droids you are looking for", according to its website. Apparently Yoda doesn't get the sexed-up treatment, but there is plenty of song, dance, acrobatics and — because it's burlesque — the removal of clothing. A dancing Chewie and Han is just the beginning of this cheeky take on Star Wars cosplay. Given that it's got an upbeat soundtrack, the costumes are extremely detailed and the show throws out lots of references to George Lucas' original plot, it's not surprising that local audiences — presumably the same ones that pack out Star Wars parties and large-scale screenings with a live orchestra — have latched onto the production. Heading to The Palais on Saturday, February 1, The Empire Strips Back sits alongside Dame of Thrones in Beattie's pop culture parody stable — so if you've already seen one of your fantastical screen obsessions get the burlesque treatment, then you know what you're in for. If you're super keen, you can also nab a Wookieerotica magazine online: a 116-page, 70s-style men's mag, just casually featuring all of your favourite jedis, siths, ewoks and other Star Wars characters. Either way, it could be a great introduction to burlesque or Star Wars, depending on which way you're coming at it. Pre-sale starts at 9am on Tuesday, November 12. Images: Jon Bauer, Leslie Liu and Josh Groom.
What it means to leave and live up to a legacy comes up often in Creed. Ryan Coogler's boxing drama resurrects the Rocky saga, bringing back the aging fighter synonymous with the series and introducing the offspring of another beloved character. No surprises there. But what is less expected is how well the feature succeeds in doing all three. That, and just how rousing the drama proves, both as the next instalment in a series and as a movie in its own right. Cast 2006's lacklustre Rocky Balboa from your mind: this is a continuation that fans can warm to, as can those without four decades of fondness for the franchise. That, on its own, is no easy feat. As the last jump back into Sylvester Stallone's knockabout world confirmed, revisiting the Italian Stallion in the years since the 1976 original can be rather hit-and-miss. Enter director Ryan Coogler and leading man Michael B. Jordan to show that the sixth sequel/spinoff can be the charm. The Fruitvale Station duo reteams to bring the writer-director's passion project to fruition, and in doing so gift the young actor with another knockout part. Jordan plays Adonis "Donnie" Johnson, a boxing wannabe with a pedigree he's struggling with. Though his early years were spent in foster care and juvenile detention, he's the illegitimate son of famed fighter Apollo Creed — and while he shares the same sporting ambitions, he wants to make it on his own terms. Heading from Los Angeles to Philadelphia, he seeks out his dad's repeated opponent turned pal Rocky (Stallone), eventually convincing him to become his trainer, and tries to follow in his father's footsteps. Cue the story of an underdog scrapping his way to the top despite several setbacks, more than a few montages and inspirational speeches, some high stakes and blistering bouts, plus an on-again, off-again relationship between Adonis and his neighbour, aspiring singer Bianca (Tessa Thompson), as well as a surrogate father-son bond blossoming with Rocky. Little happens in Creed that isn't easily foreseen. And yet the film doesn't feel like another formulaic follow-up. In fact, just as it sprinkles the familiar score from the original offering throughout its soundtrack and references events from movies gone by, Creed finds the right balance between looking backwards and starting a new future. Combining sincere nostalgia with a clear path forward, the feature achieves exactly what its protagonist is aiming for as he endeavours to do justice to his predecessor while making his own way. Coogler's direction – emphasizing the grit of the streets and the urgency of the ring, and shooting every fight close and tight for maximum tension – is certainly influential. His indie stylings are an ideal fit for the material, and for enlivening a genre seen so many times before that much of its content has become cliched. And yet, his technique often takes second place to the stars that grace the screen. That's not a criticism of Coogler — it's just a reflection of how engaging both Jordan and Stallone prove. The former once again demonstrates his charisma, complexity and versatility, while the latter benefits from stepping away from the main fray, and the rapport they share is moving. With mentor-protégé tales common movie fodder, it's rare for such an on-screen pairing to really hit the emotional marks. Crucially, Creed isn't a comeback for Stallone, but a film that keeps him connected to the iconic series he started. It plays upon his ambling acting strengths and passes on the baton to a worthy successor. And yes, it both leaves and lives up to a legacy.
Some actors possess voices that could narrate almost anything, and Willem Dafoe is one of them. Move over Morgan Freeman: when Dafoe speaks, his dulcet vocals echoing atop gorgeous imagery of the world's waterways as happens in River, being entranced by the sound is the only natural response. He's tasked with uttering quite the elegiac prose in this striking documentary, and he gives all that musing about tributaries and creeks — the planet's arteries, he calls them at one point — a particularly resonant and enthralling tone. Australian filmmaker Jennifer Peedom (Sherpa) knew he would, of course. She enlisted his talents on her last documentary, Mountain, as well. Both films pick one of the earth's crucial natural features, lens them in all their glory at multiple spots around the globe, and wax lyrical about their importance. Both make for quite the beguiling viewing experience. Thanks to writer Robert Macfarlane, Dafoe has been given much to opine in River — and what he's asked to say is obviously even more crucial than the fact that it's the Spider-Man: No Way Home, The Card Counter, The French Dispatch and Nightmare Alley star expressing it. The subject is right there in the title, but the film's aims are as big and broad as an ocean, covering the history of these snaking streams from the planet's creation up until today. "Humans have long loved rivers," Dafoe announces, which seems like a self-evident statement; however, not one to trade in generalisations without evidence, River then unpacks exactly what that means. It also uses that idea as a foundation, but paired with another, which Dafoe also gives voice to — this time as a question: "as we have learned to harness their power, have we also forgotten to revere them?". The answer is blatant, lapping away at the souls of everyone who lives in a river city and passes their central watercourse daily without giving it a second thought. Indeed, that plain-as-day response ripples with even more force to anyone who has been struck by the waterways' power when natural disasters strike, a fact that hits close to home after Australia's disastrously flooded summer across Queensland and New South Wales — timing that the movie isn't overtly trying to capitalise upon, given it first started doing the rounds of film festivals in 2021, and has had its March 2022 date with Aussie cinemas booked in for months. A documentary doesn't have to tell viewers something wholly new to evoke wonder, though. Conveying well-known truths in unforgettable and affecting ways has always been one of cinema's key skills, whether working in fact or fiction. River's sentiments won't come as a surprise, but it still feels like a fresh splash of water upon a parched face. Dafoe's narration and the film in general hone in on the importance of rivers to human civilisation since its very beginnings, starting with the unshakeable reality that rivers have made much in our evolution possible. Also just as pivotal: the devastation we've wrought in response since we learned to harness all that water for our own purposes, irrigate the land far and wide, and take an abundance of H2O for granted, which River doesn't ebb away from. The prose is flowery, but never overdone; its eager quest for potent poetry, or to be mentioned in the same breath as Terrence Malick's The Tree of Life, always feels attuned to the awe it holds for its eponymous streams. It's also on par with Dafoe, Peedom and Macfarlane's work back in 2017 on Mountain, which was similarly hypnotic — and became the highest-grossing non-IMAX Australian documentary ever made, a claim to fame it still holds today. This time joined by co-director/co-scribe and feature debutant Joseph Nizeti, River's veteran trio don't simply paddle into familiar waters like they've easily charted this course — or climbed this peak — before, however. They repeat much of what they did last time, including pairing dazzling sights with a score by the Australian Chamber Orchestra, but it's fitting that there's a keen flow to this film that makes it an especially majestic and moving watch. It's there in the pace of the cinematography, as lensed by a five-strong team that includes Sherpa and Mountain's Renan Ozturk. It's evident in the rhythms of the feature's editing, too, with The Babadook, Spear, Martha: A Picture Story and The Nightingale's Simon Njoo doing the honours. As fast as a cascading waterfall at times, and as patient as a barely babbling brook at others, River couldn't take the job of honouring its subject in as many ways as it can more seriously. Thanks to those arresting visuals — spectacular footage that demands to be seen on the biggest screen possible — and the accompanying score, River was always going to earn flowery terms slung its own way. The vision is that remarkable as it soars high and wide across 39 countries, and peers down with the utmost appreciation. The swirling orchestral music, which includes everything from Bach to Radiohead, adds amply to the journey as well (even if it does occasionally leave viewers yearning for sounds as natural the movie's sights). Here, a picture truly is worth a thousand of those Dafoe-uttered words, but the combination of both is something exceptionally special. It's interesting, then, that River is the achievement it is thanks to all of its moving parts coming together so fluidly, but its imagery is also always second to none. While the combination mesmerises, only the film's visuals could tell the same tale alone — and what a story they tell. There's a cohort of documentaries that have attempted the same observational feat without any sense of spoken narrative, an approach seen at its best in the Qatsi trilogy of Koyaanisqatsi, Powaqqatsi and Naqoyqatsi, also in Baraka and Samsara, and even in recent Oscar-nominee Ascension; River reaches the same immersive and insightful levels. What a joy it is to be the film that doesn't need Willem Dafoe's narration, but is all the better for it. Even better: what a joy it is to watch that movie. And, in just-as-fantastic news, Peedom sees River as the second part of a trilogy. Top image: Pete McBride.
UPDATE, June 28, 2022: RRR is available to stream via Netflix. The letters in RRR's title are short for Rise Roar Revolt. They could also stand for riveting, rollicking and relentless. They link in with the Indian action movie's three main forces, too — writer/director SS Rajamouli (Baahubali: The Beginning), plus stars NT Rama Rao Jr (Aravinda Sametha Veera Raghava) and Ram Charan (Vinaya Vidheya Rama) — and could describe the sound of some of its standout moments. What noise echoes when a motorcycle is used in a bridge-jumping rescue plot, as aided by a horse and the Indian flag, amid a crashing train? Or when a truck full of wild animals is driven into a decadent British colonialist shindig and its caged menagerie unleashed? What racket resounds when a motorbike figures again, this time tossed around by hand (yes, really) to knock out those imperialists, and then an arrow is kicked through a tree into someone's head? Or, when the movie's two leads fight, shoot, leap over walls and get acrobatic, all while one is sat on the other's shoulders? RRR isn't subtle. Instead, it's big, bright, boisterous, boldly energetic, and brazenly unapologetic about how OTT and hyperactive it is. The 187-minute Tollywood action epic — complete with huge musical numbers, of course — is also a vastly captivating pleasure to watch. Narrative-wise, it follows the impact of the British Raj (aka England's rule over the subcontinent between 1858–1947), especially upon two men. In the 1920s, Bheem (Jr NTR, as Rao is known) is determined to rescue young fellow villager Malli (first-timer Twinkle Sharma), after she's forcibly taken by Governor Scott Buxton (Ray Stevenson, Vikings) and his wife Catherine (Alison Doody, Beaver Falls) for no reason but they're powerful and they can. Officer Raju (Charan) is tasked by the crown with making sure Bheem doesn't succeed in rescuing the girl, and also keeping India's population in their place because their oppressors couldn't be more prejudiced. There's more to both men's stories because there's so much more to RRR's story; to fill the movie's lengthy running time, Rajamouli hasn't skimped on plot. Indeed, there's such a wealth of things going on that the film is at once a kidnapping melodrama, a staunch missive against colonialism, a political drama, a rom-com and a culture-clash comedy — involving Bheem's affection for the sole kindly Brit, Jenny (Olivia Morris, Hotel Portofino) — and a war movie. It's a buddy comedy as well, starting when Bheem and Raja join forces for that aforementioned bridge rescue, yet don't realise they're on opposite sides in the battle over Malli. It's also as spectacular an action flick as has graced cinema screens, and as gleefully overblown. Plus, it's an infectiously mesmerising musical. One dazzling dance-off centrepiece doubles as a rebuff against British rule, racism and classism, in fact, and it's also nothing short of phenomenal to look at, too. Spectacle is emphatically the word for RRR — not quite from its scene-setting opening, where Malli is ripped from her family, but from the second that Raju shows how well he can handle himself. That involves taking on a hefty horde of protesters single-handedly with just a stick as a weapon, because extravagance and excess is baked into every second of the feature. Super-sized is another term that clearly fits, because little holds back even for a second. And a third word, if the film bumped up its moniker to the next letter in the alphabet? That'd be sincere. An enormous reason that everything that's larger than life about RRR — which is absolutely everything — works, even when it's also often silly and cheesy, is because it's so earnest about how determined it is to entertain. You don't use that amount of slow-motion shots if you don't know you're being corny at times, unashamedly so. If the whole friends-but-enemies dynamic between Bheem and Raja sounds like The Departed and Infernal Affairs, that's just part of RRR's exuberant melange of influences — just like genres. Its protagonists Komaram Bheem and Alluri Sitarama Raju are actually ripped from reality, with each revolutionaries, although their tales didn't ever intertwine. (No, nothing IRL in history has ever resembled this). The Harder They Fall did the same thing, fictionalising the past to make a statement and craft barnstorming cinema, but in America, in the Old West and with Black characters. Imagine the same idea given the Michael Bay treatment in India and that's almost the wavelength that RRR runs on. Imagine the right kind of Bayhem, though — Pain and Gain, for instance — or just think of his penchant for shamelessly go-for-broke action scenes and ignore everything he usually stuffs around them. When a filmmaker is helming an action onslaught, just as when they're overseeing musical scenes, choreography is always key. That's another crucial factor in making RRR so engaging. Rajamouli's staging of both, and the way that the frays and song-and-dance numbers alike are shot by cinematographer KK Senthil Kumar (Vijetha) and edited by A Sreekar Prasad (Good Luck Sakhi), is a visual wonder. On one side, the Fast and Furious movies would be envious. On the other, Lin-Manuel Miranda might be. Again, RRR is often chaotically ridiculous, but it's also so well-made — so audaciously as well — that it's exhilarating. The films of John Woo come to mind at times, as do The Raid and The Raid: Redemption, but RRR is also its own beast. It's also easy to predict that Telugu-language cinema stars Jr NTR and Charan could get their moment in Hollywood; if Vin Diesel doesn't come calling, perhaps Quentin Tarantino will when he hops behind the camera next. Jr NTR and Charan are megawatt movie stars, one playing an everyman who becomes a hero, the other the picture of dutiful and skilled authority — and deep-seated conflict — who does the same. They're dynamite together amid the rampant maximalism, the stunts and the CGI-heavy special effects. Yes, that means that RRR is also a bromance. The film's central pair live their lives one anti-colonialist tussle at a time, though. Their characters are also posed as superheroes, never with the term ever mentioned, but in just how super-adept they are. Of course, the usual sprawling caped-crusader franchises typically don't feel this overstimulated, ardent, often-absurd and engagingly alive.
Prancing through fields laced with the charm of provincial France? Casual Saturdaying in Melbourne summertime. So Frenchy So Chic in the Park, presented in conjunction with Sydney Festival, is waltzing back to Werribee Park Mansion on Sunday, January 11. An entire afternoon of French-inspired niceties — think gourmet picnic hampers, tortes and terrines, offensively good wine, quaint puppet shows, furious outdoor chess, casual bongo drum lessons — So Frenchy hinges around a solid lineup of some of France's best: Emile Simon, The Dø, La Femme and Francois and Atlas Mountains will crank out live sets on the lawn this year. Formidable. Don your best floral-headband-and-sundress-combo and gear up for un merveilleux après-midi. Tres bloody chic. So Frenchy So Chic is on Sunday, January 11 at Werribee Park Mansion. Thanks to So Frenchy So Chic, we have a super special shiny double pass to give away. To be in the running, subscribe to the Concrete Playground newsletter (if you haven't already), then email us with your name and address at win.melbourne@concreteplayground.com.au.
Any good 'twist movie' carries with it two inescapable truths: joy to behold, bitch to review. The best to which a critic can aspire is circumspection bordering on indifference, tempered like a card shark sitting on an unbeatable hand. That task becomes even more formidable when the twist itself provides the basis for the entire plot. In those cases, as it is with Steven Soderbergh's latest (and supposedly last) film Side Effects, even just stating what the film's about in the broadest possible terms discloses more than can ever be justified. Ultimately, there's little more that can be said beyond "This film is great and you really ought to see it." And yet, sufficient as that review might be, in this instance Side Effects' name and tagline — "One pill can change your life" — helpfully offer at least a permissible insight into the movie's umbrella theme: prescription drugs. Its main character Emily (Rooney Mara) flits back and forth from one antidepressant to the next like they were competing brands of cereal, forever in search of that consequence-free panacea to her daily "poisonous fog bank rolling in". Her well-intentioned psychiatrist (Jude Law) dutifully doles out each prescription, just as eager to cure her melancholy yet also candidly advocating certain medications over others in exchange for those companies' generous consultancy fees. However, just as Side Effects appears to be establishing itself as the fictionalised version of similarly themed documentaries like Generation RX and Prescription for Disaster, it takes such a sudden and monumental shift that the audience audibly gasped in our screening. From that moment on, Soderbergh (who also filmed and edited the movie under pseudonyms) has you questioning and requestioning everything you see and hear, grasping for clarity, and staving off paranoia like the very characters before you. If indeed this is to be his swan song, then we can take solace in knowing he's left us with another gripping, intelligent, and complex psychological thriller befitting both his status as an auteur and his extraordinary back catalogue of films.
A dark Shakespearean crime drama, 2010's Animal Kingdom was one of the most resounding Australian films in years. Not only did it launch the international careers of Ben Mendelsohn and Jacki Weaver, it also heralded the arrival of writer-director David Michôd, a filmmaker whose tightly controlled aesthetic suggested even greater things to come. His sophomore effort is The Rover, a barebones narrative that mirrors his debut in both its technical precision and its nihilistic tone. What's missing, however, is a similarly compelling set of characters. Without them, a pervasive sense of bleakness soon swallows the movie whole. Based on an idea by Michôd and actor Joel Edgerton, the film takes place across desolate stretches of the outback, a decade after Western society has collapsed. While drinking alone in a gloomy roadside bar, a heavily bearded Guy Pearce sees three gun-toting criminals steal his car. The rest of the movie follows his efforts to get the car back. Michôd would have known from the very first word that comparisons to Mad Max were inevitable. Despite this, The Rover is not an action flick. Methodically paced and dripping with menace, the film actually has more in common with something like Ted Kotcheff's Wake in Fright, which likewise capitalised on the intensity of its outback setting. Meticulous technique — including razor-sharp editing, oppressive sound design, a brooding score and dispassionate cinematography — sets audience members on edge. The violence, when it comes, is sudden, shocking and unglamorous. Yet beneath the craft, the film feels decidedly hollow. Pearce is a great actor, but there's only so much variance he can bring to such a single-minded protagonist. Robert Pattinson, meanwhile, gives a woefully misjudged performance as Pearce's unlikely travelling companion, the slow-witted brother of one of the thieves Pearce is trying to track down. His constant twitching and incomprehensible Southern drawl seem like the efforts of an actor trying desperately to play against type. Good on him for trying, but the fact is it just doesn't work. So the film descends into meaninglessness and futility. Michôd's future world is bereft of human compassion — grandmothers pimp their grandkids, people hunt dogs for food, and our protagonist commits murder without a moment's hesitation. By the time the movie ends, you're left broken and exhausted. And while it takes a lot of skill to achieve that, it never really feels like it was worth it.
Speaking prior to the screening of his movie in Sydney, director Christopher Miller explained: "Our one, enduring rule for this film was that it had to be story focused. It could never be permitted to descend into a 90 minute toy commercial". For he and co-director Phil Lord, then, The LEGO Movie is mission accomplished. Set entirely within a world of those clickable bricks and yellow-faced characters, LEGO tells the story of Emmet Brickowski (Chris Pratt), an eternally optimistic construction worker whose pep is matched only by his extraordinary genericism. Emmet is the epitome of commercial dronery: a franchise-coffee-drinking, pop-music-listening nobody who always follows the instructions. That all changes, however, when he stumbles upon the 'Piece of Resistance' and becomes entangled in a power struggle between the ruthless President Business (Will Ferrell), his enforcer 'Bad Cop/Good Cop' (Liam Neeson) and the resistance agent 'WyldStyle' (Elizabeth Banks). It's...a little hard to describe the sensation of watching this film. Yes, it's computer generated, but what those computers generated were lego pieces. So, if there's an explosion, that explosion is made up of thousands of tiny red, yellow and white lego circles — not CGI fire. The effect is mesmerising. The digital design team (Australia's Animal Logic), wholly adopted the 'rules and grammar' of Lego, meaning characters could only bend at the waist and all vehicles moved as they would if being controlled by a human hand. That device alone lends itself to dozens of jokes, and in terms of laughs, The LEGO Movie delivers in spades. This is, after all, the team behind both 22 Jump Street and the sublime Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs — two films that wield pop-culture references and drop cameos like nobody's business. Where other movies in this genre can often lapse into brand promotion or smulch, The LEGO Movie retains an acute self-awareness that never permits itself to take anything too seriously. As such, the in-jokes are amongst the strongest and nostalgia is used almost exclusively as a source of comedy rather than to pull on the heart strings. That's not to say the film is without a point. Its jabs at corporatisation land more heavily than one might expect for a 'kids movie', and its determination to encourage imagination and exploration 'beyond the instructions' is at times so concerted it borders on pro-anarchism. In the end, this is a family-friendly movie in every sense, yet the truth is, adults will derive more pleasure from the viewing than their children. LEGO is a wry, playful and intelligent piece of filmmaking that, like Toy Story before it, rises far above its station and offers up a truly enjoyable experience. https://youtube.com/watch?v=fZ_JOBCLF-I
Before watching The Nest, you mightn't have imagined Jude Law playing Mad Men's Don Draper. He didn't, of course. But this new 80s-set psychological thriller about a corroding marriage brings that idea to mind, because it too follows a man who spends his days selling a dream, thinks he can talk and charm his way into anything, and may have unleashed his biggest spin upon himself. More often than not, Law's character here has used his charisma to get whatever he wants, and to evade whichever sticky personal and professional situations he's plunged himself into. Indeed, stock trader Rory O'Hara slides easily into Law's list of suave on-screen roles, alongside the likes of The Talented Mr Ripley and Alfie. But there's also a tinge of desperation to his arrogance, as the actor showcased well in miniseries The Third Day. A Brit who relocated to New York and married horse trainer Allison (Carrie Coon, Widows), Rory looks the picture of Reagan-era affluence but, when he suddenly wants to return to London to chase new work opportunities, the cracks in his facade start widening. When Rory proposes the move to Allison, she's reluctant. From the instant she first spies the centuries-old Surrey mansion he's rented for them, her teenage daughter Sam (Oona Roche, Morning Wars) and their son Ben (Charlie Shotwell, The Nightingale), she's mistrustful as well. Rory crows about how Led Zeppelin once recorded an album there as he tours her through the cavernous property, but the glassiness in Allison's eyes shows that she can't unthinkably subscribe to his glossy view of their relocated existence. That remains true even after he buys her a new horse, and brings home a fur coat for her to wear to his work get-togethers, where he brags about his prowess, success and eagerness to expand his property portfolio with a city apartment. It takes time for Allison to confront Rory's lies, and for his efforts to swindle and cajole his way out of financial strife to tear apart the O'Haras' lives; however, that Rory's posturing and pretence will crumble isn't a matter of if, but when. While it's obvious from the outset that trouble is afoot — from early images that survey the family's almost too-idyllic NY life, in fact — filmmaker Sean Durkin isn't in any rush to unleash The Nest's full nightmare. The writer/director made his feature debut with 2011's cult thriller Martha Marcy May Marlene, so his big-screen career pre-dates Hereditary and Midsommar's Ari Aster, but he's just as committed to evoking a climate of pervasive, unshakeable dread. And, he wants his viewers to linger in it, because his characters must. Allison is forced to live with the knowledge that little is right, but the way she chain-smokes hurriedly illustrates that she also knows how far her fortunes could fall. Every move Rory makes is driven by his need to paint a gleaming portrait of himself, and he's aware that it's a reverse Dorian Gray situation: the shinier and flashier he makes everything seem to anyone who'll listen, the more he rots inside. Durkin doesn't just rely upon an exacting pace and a festering mood of gloom, though. Reuniting with cinematographer Mátyás Erdély (Son of Saul) after 2013 miniseries Southcliffe, he gives every second of The Nest an eerie look — whether staying a few beats longer than normal on its opening shot, lensing vast rooms to emphasise their emptiness, repeatedly peering at the film's characters through glass or breaking out the most gradual of zooms. A sense of distance echoes through the movie, mirroring how the O'Haras can never get close enough to what they really want. Reminders of conflict are perched everywhere, especially in the way that Erdély plays with light and shadow across the family's faces. Decadence abounds, too, but in an overstressed fashion via wood-panelled walls and deep colours seething with darkness. The score by Arcade Fire's Richard Reed Parry plays up the threat and menace, while few recent films have compelled their audience to pay such attention to their unsettling sound design. All that tension and unease conveys not only Rory and Allison's domestic discontent — and, as one rebels and the other frets, Sam and Ben's as well — but also the false promises of chasing capitalism-driven fantasies. When, in a vulnerable exchange, Rory says that his job is pretending that he's rich, The Nest slices savagely into the toxic and false notion that money, belongings and status equal happiness. That should have viewers thinking about Mad Men again, but Durkin takes to the subject like he's making a biting horror movie rather the 21st century's best TV drama so far. The film is called The Nest, after all, and that luxurious abode evokes terror in a number of ways. It's the ultimate symbol of living beyond one's means and attempting to fake it till you make it. It's worlds away from the humble upbringing that Rory's trying to hide. It has more than enough space for Allison to fill with her worries, and to lose her sense of self in. And, in, every creak and suddenly open door, it reflects the paranoia that accompanies trying to be someone you're not. Law is perfectly cast, and Durkin is now two for two, but Coon is as essential to The Nest as her fellow lead and her director. As she demonstrated in Gone Girl and on TV in The Leftovers and Fargo, she's so adept at cutting to the heart of a character's complexities with minimal fuss that her performances feel like their own form of shorthand. And, that's crucial here. As Rory's bluster sees him increasingly flounder, Coon ensures that audiences know exactly how it's affecting Allison at every turn. Cue many of The Nest's most haunting scenes, because there are few things more gut-wrenching than realising that the life you don't even love is a sham, but wading through it day after day nonetheless. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G9OR8RC2t7Q
In The Post, journalists strive to source, confirm and publish reports about a government cover-up spanning several decades. In America's highest office, and among the connected and influential, the powers-that-be attempt to silence the story. It's a true tale, and one that couldn't be more relevant today. At the moment, if the media tried to reveal something as significant as the Pentagon Papers — which detailed the lies four consecutive US administrations told the public about the country's involvement in the Vietnam war — we all know what would happen. Tweets would fly, thick, fast, and probably misspelled. "Fake news!" they'd scream, over and over again. If you're not familiar with the real-life scandal that rocked Washington in the early 1970s, it all starts with marine turned military analyst Daniel Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys) and a treasure trove of leaked classified documents. Once The Washington Post editor Ben Bradlee (Tom Hanks) begins to suspect that their rivals at The New York Times have a big scoop in the works, the two newspapers battle it out to piece together the story. The Nixon administration pushes back, placing publisher Katharine Graham (Meryl Streep) under considerable pressure to kill their investigation. While the government accuses the press of violating espionage laws and causing irreparable damage to American security, the journalists stand by their belief in the First Amendment as well as the importance of speaking truth to power. Complicating matters further is the paper's impending stock offering, with the board and investors nervous about possible controversy. There's perhaps never been a better time to make a movie about an attack on the freedom of the press, or the need for the media to scrutinise the workings of the country's leaders. That feeling is inescapable while watching The Post, to the point that many of its rousing speeches could easily be uttered today. That said, director Steven Spielberg dedicates the bulk of the film's time to the procedural business of reporters doing what they do: chasing leads, combing through documents, butting up against deadlines, and more. Tracking their hard work, as well as the difficult decisions and fierce opposition that comes with it, the drama is solid, smart and polished. Working together for the first time in their long and illustrious careers, the same can be said of the movie's two stars. The Post is an ensemble effort, with Bob Odenkirk, Carrie Coon, Tracy Letts and Sarah Paulson all fantastic in pivotal parts. But the central performances of Hanks and Streep are particularly instrumental in the film's hard-earned thrills. Hanks ensures Bradlee's hard-nosed determination shines through, while Streep brings quiet courage to a trickier and ultimately more resonant role. Among The Post's many timely subjects, the dismissive treatment Graham endured as the first female publisher of a major American paper does not escape attention. Nor does her fortitude in fighting back. With Spielberg in the director's chair, working with a script by first-timer Liz Hannah and Spotlight Oscar-winner Josh Singer, none of the above should be surprising. Increasingly at home making serious-minded dramas as the decades go by — see Lincoln and Bridge of Spies in recent years — the filmmaker's handling of tone and pace suits the story and subject matter perfectly. With frames filled with period detail and steely hues (the picture was shot by his now 16-time cinematographer Janusz Kaminski), Spielberg favours an old-fashioned, no-nonsense approach that nonetheless proves thoroughly rousing. And really, how better to handle a movie like this. This tale might be history, but these days it feels like anything but. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N1VcCv9JOPQ
Already a high-impact showstopper on screen, George Miller's award-winning Mad Max: Fury Road takes on a life of its own as it's launched into reality for an interactive spectacular of performance, music, film, striking visuals and special effects at this year's White Night Reimagined. Running hourly across all three nights of the festival, the world premiere of Mad Max: Fury Road features a 15-minute live show and exhibition, bringing the post-apocalyptic action flick to life. Prepare to be wowed by some of the movie's famed vehicles — from the Doof Wagon to the Razor Cola Interceptor — as they descend on the Melbourne Museum forecourt. Snippets of film footage and video will be splashed across the facade of the Royal Exhibition Building, too, matched to a soundtrack, dazzling special effects and larger-than-life performances. Mad Max: Fury Road starts every hour on the hour on Thursday–Friday 7–11pm and Saturday 7pm–1am.
If you’ve been teetering on the brink of comic book and superhero fatigue, meet the movie that just might push you over the edge. In the case of the latest version of Fantastic Four, it’s not just the fact that every month seems to see a new film in the genre reach cinemas (or the knowledge that this particular content was translated to the screen just last decade). It's also the feature's embrace of cliché, grim tone and a complete lack of energy that causes it to grate, and then some. Fantastic Four is yet another gritty reboot of a superhero origin story. In case you can’t remember the 2005 film of the same name and its 2007 sequel Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer (or in case you’ve willingly forgotten them), the series mythology concerns a quartet of friends who get genetically altered and gain superpowers — stretchy limbs, rock-like skin, bursting into flames and invisibility. The characters first created in 1961 by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby are now brought back to the big screen by Chronicle writer/director Josh Trank. Reed Richards (Miles Teller), Ben Grimm (Jamie Bell) and Johnny Storm (Michael B Jordan) travel to another dimension and come back changed, with the latter's sister Sue (Kate Mara) also caught up in the fallout. Their one-time friend Victor Von Doom (Toby Kebbell) goes with them...but doesn’t fare quite so well. With X-Men: Days of Future Past writer Simon Kinberg and The Lazarus Effect's Jeremy Slater helping on the script, Trank’s take is as stern and serious as his cast are young and fresh-faced — think Fantastic Four filtered through the template of a teen drama, even if the actors are slightly older than that. Outcasts come together, trouble ensues, and everyone tries to come to terms with their trauma in a manner not unlike many after-school specials. Yes, life lessons are also learned, including the all-important “never drink and teleport” and “don’t touch the green, glowing goo”. It all makes for as low-key, downbeat affair as comic book adaptations have seen, with the cast the saving grace. The presence of the five key players — plus Reg E Cathey as Johnny and Sue's father — is a welcome one, although their performances hardly live up to the great work they've delivered in the past. Bell's version of the Thing is the feature's highlight, though we hear much more of the actor than we see. In his brooding brute of boulders, a glimpse of the emotion Trank is aiming for is apparent, albeit only briefly. That Teller and co. hardly shine could be a reflection of the stilted dialogue they’re spouting, (including a blatant one-line rip-off of Ghostbusters) as well as the unengaging series set-up they're immersed in. When all the lab scenes, messy action and cheap-looking special effects ultimately build up to the bestowing of the group’s name (aka the movie’s title), disappointment isn’t the only emotion you'll be feeling. As a concept, there’s plenty of interest in Fantastic Four — and yet filmmakers keep floundering in bringing it to the screen. A sequel is already slated, of course, and here's hoping that it tells a new tale with a smattering of enthusiasm, rather than blandly rehashing familiar territory.
For 69 years, the Sydney Film Festival has screened and celebrated the latest and greatest in international cinema in the Harbour City. Since 2009, it has also handed out a prestigious award to the absolute best of the best. The list of flicks that've won the fest's Sydney Film Prize for "audacious, cutting-edge and courageous" movies is impressive, including everything from Nicolas Winding Refn's Bronson and Only God Forgives through to Bong Joon-ho's Parasite. Now, at the 2022 festival, Lukas Dhont's Close has joined them. Fresh from nabbing the Grand Prix at this year's Cannes Film Festival, Dhont's sophomore feature has picked up this year's SFF $60,000 gong from a lineup of 12 contenders. Close dives into a teenage friendship between two 13-year-olds that's tested when they're teased and taunted about their closeness by their classmates — and also marks the filmmaker's second movie to screen at the Sydney fest, after Girl in 2018. "I want to express my incredible gratitude for the recognition that our film Close receives at this year's Sydney Film Festival. Thank you to the festival for expressing its love for the film, the jury for choosing it among all these outstanding pieces, and its first Australian audience for opening hearts and spirits to a film that comes from deep within," said Dhont. "We wanted to make a film about friendship and connection after a moment in time where we all understood its necessity and power. I decided to use cinema as my way to connect to the world. And tonight I feel incredibly close and connected to all of you." This year's Sydney Film Prize was decided by a jury comprised of Australian actor David Wenham (The Furnace), the SFF Official Competition Jury President, plus Jennifer Peedom (director of River and Sherpa), Mostofa Sarwar Farooki (the Bangladeshi filmmaker behind No Man's Land, which screened at SFF 2022), Semih Kaplanoğlu (the Turkish director-producer of Commitment Hasan, also screening at this year's SFF) and Yuka Sakano (Executive Director of Tokyo's Kawakita Memorial Film Institute). In winning the Sydney Film Prize, Close follows in the footsteps of the aforementioned Parasite, the 2019 recipient, as well as fellow past winners There Is No Evil (2021), The Heiresses (2018), On Body and Soul (2017), Aquarius (2016), Arabian Nights (2015), Two Days, One Night (2014), Only God Forgives (2013), Alps (2012), A Separation (2011), Heartbeats (2010), Bronson (2009) and Hunger (2008). Announced as the Sydney Film Prize-winner at SFF's 2022 closing ceremony, Close is just one of this year's award recipients. The street dancing-focused Keep Stepping won the $10,000 Documentary Australia Foundation Award for Australian Documentary, while Filipino doco Delikado nabbed the fest's second-ever $10,000 Sustainable Future Award. Also, the $20,000 Deutsche Bank Fellowship for First Nations Film Creatives went to filmmaker and performer Kylie Bracknell (Fist of Fury Noongar Daa), and film composer Caitlin Yeo (Wakefield, Valerie Taylor: Playing with Sharks) received the $10,000 Sydney-UNESCO City of Film Award. And, in the Dendy Short Film Awards, Donkey won the Yoram Gross Animation Award and the AFTRS Craft Award, while The Moths Will Eat Them Up scored the Dendy Live Action Short Award and the Rouben Mamoulian Award for Best Director. Four shorts were highly commended, too: 2166 in the Yoram Gross Animation Award field, Ghosted in the Dendy Live Action Short Award category, and Stonefish and Yao Yao Goes to Little Bay for the Best Director prize. The 2022 Sydney Film Festival ran from Wednesday, June 8–Sunday, June 19, with the festival screening four days of encores until Thursday, June 23.
Every studio wants a Marvel Cinematic Universe to call its own, or an equivalent that similarly takes a big bite out of the box office — and that very quest explains why Morbius exists. On the page, the character also known as 'the Living Vampire' has been battling Spider-Man since 1971. On the screen, he's now the second of the web-slinger's foes after Venom to get his own feature. This long-delayed flick, which was originally due to release before Venom: Let There Be Carnage until the pandemic struck, is also the third film in what's been dubbed Sony's Spider-Man Universe. As that name makes plain, the company is spinning its own on-screen world around everyone's favourite friendly neighbourhood superhero, because that's what it owns the rights to, and has started out focusing on villainous folks. So far, the movie magic hasn't flowed. If that explanatory opening paragraph felt like something obligatory that you had to get through to set the scene, it's meant to. That's how Morbius feels as well. Actually, that's being kinder than this draining picture deserves given it only has one purpose: setting up more films to follow. Too many movies in too many comic book-inspired cinematic universes share the same fate, because this type of filmmaking has primarily become $20-per-ticket feature-length episodes on a big screen — but it's particularly blatant here. Before the MCU's success, the bulk of Morbius would've been a ten-minute introduction in a flick about supervillains, and its mid-credits teasers would've fuelled the first act. Now, flinging every bit of caped crusader-adjacent material into as large a number of cinematic outings as possible is the status quo, and this is one of the most bloodless examples yet. Jumping over to the SSU from the DCEU — that'd be the DC Extended Universe, the pictures based around Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Suicide Squad and the like (but not including Joker or The Batman) — Jared Leto plays Morbius' eponymous figure. A renowned scientist, Dr Michael Morbius has a keen interest in the red liquid pumping through humans' veins stemming from his own health issues. As seen in early scenes set during his childhood, young Michael (Charlie Shotwell, The Nest) was a sickly kid in a medical facility thanks to a rare disease that stops him from producing new blood. There, under the care of Dr Emil Nikols (Jared Harris, Foundation), he befriended another unwell boy (debutant Joseph Esson), showed his smarts and earned a prestigious scholarship. As an adult, he now refuses the Nobel Prize for creating artificial plasma, then tries to cure himself using genes from vampire bats. Morbius sports an awkward tone that filmmaker Daniel Espinosa (Life) can't overcome; its namesake may be a future big-screen baddie, but he's also meant to be this sympathetic flick's hero — and buying either is a stretch. In the overacting Leto's hands, he's too tedious to convince as a threat or someone to root for. He's too gleefully eccentric to resemble anything more than a skit at Leto's expense, too. Indeed, evoking any interest in Morbius' inner wrestling (because saving his own life with his experimental procedure comes at a bloodsucking cost) proves plodding. It does take a special set of skills to make such OTT displays so pedestrian at best, though, and that's a talent that Leto keeps showing to the misfortune of movie-goers. He offers more restraint here than in Suicide Squad (not to be confused with The Suicide Squad), The Little Things, House of Gucci or streaming series WeCrashed, but his post-Dallas Buyers Club Oscar-win resume remains dire — Blade Runner 2049 being the sole exception. It mightn't have revived the film, but the answer to one of Espinosa's troubles could've been Matt Smith, who cuts a far more compelling figure as the grown-up version of Morbius' ailing pal Milo. The lanky Last Night in Soho star is saddled with a role somehow more cartoonish than Leto's, and with a character who doses himself with the same bat-derived serum but loves it — and, even without a spot of remorse for the body count he swiftly causes, he's the the most fascinating thing on-screen. Alas, in the latest underwhelming script by Dracula Untold, The Last Witch Hunter, Gods of Egypt and Power Rangers screenwriters Burk Sharpless and Matt Sazama, Morbius and Milo are meant to be two sides of the same coin, but there's no depth or poignancy to their relationship. It just feels like a means to an end, giving Morbius another struggle to brood over. That shouldn't come as a surprise seeing that's the movie's whole gambit as well. It doesn't help that the entire idea behind Morbius and Milo's friendship, and their reason for seeking a solution in bat DNA, is abhorrently ableist. Positing that both men can only be happy if they're free of their genetic ailment could never be anything else. Folks with a health situation that causes suffering may wish to farewell it, but the image of throwing away crutches, becoming more mobile, gaining extra senses and floating in the air is thoroughly tasteless when presented as the only alternative to having a medical condition. Doing something different would've required thought, however, which Morbius lacks again and again. No one could be bothered to flesh out its protagonist, or wonder why its villain outshines him, or worry that Leto and Smith have zero chemistry together, after all. And clearly nobody was concerned that the film looks wearyingly dull to suit its story, that its CGI is laughably atrocious and overdone at every moment, or that it's a vampire flick that's afraid of blood and gore. Amid the murky cinematography by Oliver Wood (Holmes & Watson) and erratic editing from Pietro Scalia (Solo: A Star Wars Story), each compounding the movie's woes, Morbius also includes a weak attempt at a romance courtesy of fellow researcher Martine (Adria Arjona, 6 Underground), plus a crime angle via detectives Stroud (Tyrese Gibson, Fast and Furious 9) and Rodriguez (Al Madrigal, Physical) — all thankless. Its stab at giving the superhero/supervillain realm a mad scientist skew, a monster-movie chapter and a gothic horror spin proves dead on arrival as well, as does its evident pilfering from Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. That this is the best version of Morbius after almost two years spent sitting on a shelf is as illogical as the film's many plot holes. This misfire only sinks its teeth into bland monotony; vampires aren't the only things that suck within its frames.
When you're going through the motions of your morning skincare routine — likely a little bleary-eyed as you've only just woken up and haven't had a coffee yet — it can be easy to forget how much work, passion and science have gone into that substance you're smearing all over your money-maker. Clarins is setting out to change that. The plant-based French beauty brand has designed an interactive virtual laboratory, which will be popping up on a screen near you from 5pm on Wednesday, May 4. The digital space offers visitors the chance to delve into the history of Clarins, learn all about the research that backs its products — including the pioneering Double Serum, which contains a whopping 21 plant extracts — and play games for the chance to win luxe skincare-centric prizes. Up for grabs is a year's worth of Clarins skincare (to keep you looking fresh and your skin glowy), a 75ml Double Serum for 30 winners as well as samples galore so you can quickly add a dose of plant-based science to your skin routine. With a prize pool worth over $110,000, it's the perfect chance to join the fun. Hurry along, the virtual laboratory's doors are only open for a limited time (that is, until the prizes run out or Tuesday, May 17). The Clarins virtual laboratory pop-up is free to visit and will be open from 5pm, Wednesday, May 4, until prizes run out or Tuesday, May 17. Happen to find yourself in Sydney? Head to the Clarins Herbarium on Pitt Street for an IRL beauty experience.
The Espy has a reputation for rounding up an excellent bunch of musos for New Year's Eve festivities, and this year is no different. This time around the Espy will play host to the ever-partystarting Architecture in Helsinki alongside Kingswood, DZ Deathrays, Adalita, The Griswolds, Bad//Dreems, Money For Rope, Mighty Duke and The Lords, EMPRA, Maids, Magic Bones and many others who'll be gracing the stage from 7pm. Tickets are $72.95 for this genuinely awesome lineup, so if you're keen to rock out while seeing in the new year, look no further. NYE AT THE ESPY 2014 LINEUP: Architecture in Helsinki Kingswood DZ Deathrays Adalita The Griswolds Bad//Dreems Money For Rope Mighty Duke And The Lords EMPRA Maids Magic Bones + more
There's a difference between passion and talent, though few people dare to explain that to Marguerite Dumont (Catherine Frot). The fictional character, inspired by a real-life New York socialite, lives for music. Unfortunately, as much as she loves belting out a song, she can't hold a tune to save her life. "Does she always sing like this?" asks young critic Lucien Beaumont (Sylvain Dieuaide) when he first hears her voice at one of her frequent soirees. He's as shocked by the response as he is at the sound ringing in his ears; "No. She's come a long way," he's told. Marguerite tells her tale, transporting the story to 1920s France to avoid conflicting with another film about its obvious source of inspiration, the forthcoming Florence Foster Jenkins. If you think a narrative about a wealthy woman's repeated attempts to sing in public would be riddled with both tragedy and comedy, you'd be right. However writer-director Xavier Giannoli (Superstar) struggles to find the ideal balance between the two. It's not just many of the characters that are outwardly laughing at, not with, the aspiring opera star. Always trying to find humour in the situation, the movie itself seems to be trying to inspire the same reaction. Indeed, the film's depiction of the behaviour of those closest to her demonstrates this approach. Marguerite's husband (André Marcon) belittles her to anyone who'll listen, while her loyal butler (Denis Mpunga) hopes to profit from his photographs of her outlandish behaviour. When Lucien befriends the wannabe soprano after reviewing her concert, he's clearly secretly joking at his new pal's expense. The feature stresses again and again that no one wants to ruin Marguerite's fantasy of grandeur, though it also makes plain that they're enjoying watching her make a fool out of herself. Showing them as much empathy as it does its protagonist, Marguerite follows in their footsteps. Accordingly, any kindness in the movie is tinged with unmistakable cruelty — and it's an uncomfortable mix to say the least. Frot's performance won a Caesar award, and proves the most nuanced and convincing element of the film. Sadly, she's left languishing in an effort that treats her character in a cartoonish manner. Any intended satire about the falseness of upper-class society fails to hit the mark. While Marguerite's tone proves awkward, it's technical artistry is never in doubt. Giannoli's skills as a filmmaker are best evidenced in the sumptuous imagery he brings to the screen, which shows levels of texture and intricacy his script does not. In fact, the movie's detailed production design and lingering cinematography often sit at odds with its comical treatment of its central figure. If only the care and affection of the former could've extended to the latter.
UPDATE, January 21, 2022: Synchronic is available to stream via Netflix, Binge, Google Play, YouTube Movies, iTunes and Amazon Video. Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead aren't currently household names. If they keep writing and directing mind-bending sci-fi like Synchronic, though, they will be. The pair actually appear destined to become better known via Marvel, as they're slated to helm one of the MCU's many upcoming Disney+ TV series, the Oscar Isaac-starring Moon Knight — but they've already worked their way up from the US$20,000 budget of their 2012 debut Resolution to making movies with Anthony Mackie and Jamie Dornan. Here, with Marvel's own Falcon and Fifty Shades of Grey's leading man, they play with time, relativity, fate and brain-altering substances. They ponder the shadows that the past leaves on the present, the way that progressing through life can feel far more like a stumble than following a clear path, and how confronting loss and death can reframe your perspective on living, too. Those temporal jumps and existential themes aren't new, of course, and neither is the film's steely look and feel, and its willingness to get dark. But that's the thing about Benson and Moorhead: few filmmakers can twist familiar parts into such a distinctive, smart and engaging package in the same way, and with each and every one of their movies. Synchronic shares its title with a designer drug. In the film's vision of New Orleans, the hallucinogen can be bought in stores — and plenty of people are doing just that. Shift after shift, paramedics Steve Denube (Mackie) and Dennis Dannelly (Dornan) find themselves cleaning up the aftermath, as users of the synthetic substance keep overdosing, dying in unusual ways and getting injured in strange mishaps. And, these aren't your usual drug-fuelled incidents. One, involving a snakebite, happens in a hotel without even the slightest sign of slithering reptiles on the loose. That's enough to arouse the world-wearied Steve and Dennis' interest, and to give them something to talk about other than the former's attachment-free life and the latter's marriage. Then Dennis' teenage daughter Brianna (Ally Ioannides, Into the Badlands) goes missing, and the two EMTs are instantly keen to investigate any links that the popular pill might have to her disappearance. In a film that initially drips with tension, dread and intensity, Benson and Moorhead don't take too long to reveal how synchronic works, but it's still something that's best discovered by watching. They don't ever simply tell the audience what's going on, though. As all good films that tinker with time should — and as some not-so-great ones, like Australian rom-com Long Story Short, try to yet flounder — Synchronic doesn't merely show the effects, either, but instead uses every tool at its disposal to take viewers on the same journey. Indeed, much of the movie hinges upon how Steve feels when he pops a pill. While the character could just explain that aloud, that'd be the least interesting option and the film's directors know it. So, whether peering up at the sky, toying with slow motion and perspective, tilting angles, completely flipping the picture or using long takes, the feature gets subjective with its cinematography, which is lensed by Moorhead. One dazzling and dramatic shot at a time, it plunges everyone watching into Steve's head as he first experiments with synchronic's capabilities, then endeavours to use them to bring Brianna home. There's more to Steve's story than possibly being a hero, and that's one of Synchronic's superpowers. Although surreal imagery, a trippy narrative and an off-kilter atmosphere all sit in the movie's toolkit, it's how Benson and Moorhead ground all of the above in genuine emotions that makes this a science fiction film with both brains and a pulse. Easy sentiment and schmaltz have no place here, but anchoring the film's musings on life certainly does. After all, there's little point in pondering 'what if?' scenarios, which is sci-fi's entire remit, if those trains of thought don't also interrogate and explore the human condition. Consequently, although it initially seems as if the script makes a few easy moves regarding Steve's background and current experience, there's insight in those choices. There's cold, hard truth, too, which Synchronic happily faces — because how we're each shaped by trauma is life's number one story. This isn't Benson and Moorhead's first dance with this subject, as anyone who has seen Resolution, 2014's horror-romance Spring and 2017's excellent cult thriller The Endless will spot. That said, even when the premise of their features explicitly calls for repetition — always cleverly and playfully — the pair doesn't just retread their previous footsteps. With each addition to their shared resume, the filmmaking duo demonstrates an uncanny knack for using genre confines and deploying recognisable tropes to excavate pain and tragedy. When viewed as a whole, their career to-date provides an impressive and perceptive snapshot of dealing with life's difficulties, in fact. Each of Benson and Moorhead's four films so far are strikingly shot and astutely written, and rank among the best horror and sci-fi efforts of the past decade, but they're also as thoughtful and resonant as they are intelligent and ambitious — and that's an irresistible combination. Synchronic does occasionally falter. Mackie gets the better part and has far more of an impact than Dornan, for instance. But the lived-in camaraderie between their characters — who've been partners so long that they speak in shorthand — always feels real, and Dornan is still worlds away from the woeful Wild Mountain Thyme, his previous big-screen role. The film's ending doesn't completely fall into place, too, but even that feels like a minor issue. When a movie takes you on the kind of ride that Synchronic does, in such a stunning, sharp and thrilling fashion, and with such depth at is core, its tiny imperfections fade from memory quickly. Or, as Benson and Moorhead might posit, they help make everything that's exceptional shine even brighter, stand out even more and cut even deeper. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=87RIVAc6MJU&feature=youtu.be
Twerking is no longer something only attempted after a few drinks on a Saturday night or in front of YouTube in the privacy of your own home. On Monday night, 19 August, Twerkshop at The Workers Club returns, which means not only is there an opportunity to seriously hone your twerking skills before next weekend, there is a community of like-minded people out there just waiting to spend their evening twerking with you. The twerkshops run for an hour and teach you how to shake it. I really think the name is self-explanatory. You don’t need me to tell you what would happen in a twerkshop. If you’re still confused, the Hip Hop Hotties, describe the class as ‘Ghetto Zumba’. Their Facebook page proclaims that there “Ain’t better twerking than in the backroom off the Twerkers Club!” and I have to agree. The music will always be perfect to twerk to. There’ll be none of the disappointment that comes after getting ready to twerk right before the song changes. It’s a twerkshop! The music is always twerk-appropriate. Plus, post-twerkshop you’ll have the best ass muscles ever. Really. Sessions run between 7-8pm and 8-9pm on a Monday night, and you can register by emailing Emily Dayani at twerkshop.melbourne@gmail.com. Dress code is “something comfy to get jiggy wit it in” and it's currently for ladies only. If you’re not sure how to prepare or contain your excitement until Monday, copy this three-step tutorial from a cat as practice.
When we think Shakespeare, we think tragedies of misfortune, histories of sovereigns and comedies of error. The latter of which is obviously the most fun — especially when it’s put on by Australia’s leading classical theatre company, Bell Shakespeare. The Comedy of Errors is a high-octave, crude-innuendo, neon-lit, slapstick-laden romp through mistaken identity, class structure, gender politics and table tennis etiquette. It takes Shakespeare’s couplets and transports them to a sleazy, red-light port-town called Ephesus, which kind of looks like Kings Cross in Sydney if it got mongrelised with Chapel Street. Now, the plot: a father is so proud of his two identical twin boys that he decides it will be a lark to adopt a second pair of identical twins for them to keep as man-servants. Bascially, Egeon has considerable wealth but not much common sense. On the squally waters home, a shipwreck separates him and two of the boys from his wife and their matching twins. But that’s not enough to ensure confusion and chaos for the rest of their lives. This is Shakespeare we’re talking about — so he obligingly doubles up on the doubling up and gives each set of twins the same damn name. Cue chaotic hilarity over the course of a single night many years later when both sets of twins mooch around Ephesus without once meeting each other. They confuse, enrage and arouse each other’s lady-friends, and make multiple entrances and exits through many doors, eventually culminating in an outrageous chase scene. The busty, rumbustious Adriana (Elena Carapetis) is a stand-out in this scene with her gift for slow-motion hilarity and comical facial expressions. Shakespeare’s script hasn’t been tampered with. It’s remarkably clear and surprisingly relatable. Puns and one-liners fly fast and furious, and the flashing strobe lights in a club scene turn every cast member’s face just the right shade of sickly green before they vomit splashily over the stage. The effortless appeal of this new take on the Bard is due both to the timeless device of mistaken identity and director Imara Savage’s terse nods to notions of immigration and 'errors' of judgement. Designer Pip Runciman has created a visual fiesta of colour with floral jackets, leopard-print bustiers, pink vinyl and bunny ears, and the debauched climax that will make you laugh until you are incontinent. Go — before your doppelgänger gets there first. Image by Matt Nettheim.
Ever feel like you deserve a prize for just how much you love your wine? Are your efforts as an amateur sommelier yet to be properly rewarded? WineMarket are ready to make your dreams come true with a truly massive giveaway. Every case of wine you buy from WineMarket this February will put you into the running for a five-night getaway on the West Coast, complete with a wine lover's experience of Margaret River and a chance to explore Perth in style. Along with flights and four-star accommodation the lucky winner and a friend will win a tour of a Margaret River winery, a fancy dinner for two in Perth, a scenic tour around the city, five days' car hire and more (to the value of $4500+). The more cases you buy and the more friends you get involved, the better your chances, so now's the time to stock up your cellars for a rainy day. Or if you've already got a healthy supply, get an entry just for signing up to WineMarket's newsletter. Check out the WineMarket website for all the details and to enter. Just hurry — the competition closes on Saturday, February 28, 11.59pm. To all you wine lovers, we salute you and wish you luck.
Christmas gifts can be tough. No one can really be bothered battling the crowds at David Jones or Myer around this time of year, and hey, your sister probably already has that perfume anyway. Really, you want your gift to stand apart from the rest. Something a little unique; something that won't be re-gifted immediately in their work KK. The Sisters' Markets may just be your solution. Usually holed up in Coburg Town Hall, this little jewellery, fashion and homewares market is now setting up shop in the grassy oasis that is the second floor of the QV. Here you can pick up quirky but decent gifts such as your own home brewing kit by Brew Smith, or some beautiful homewares by local design duo Skimming Stones. They're only open on the weekend though, so time to get organised. You could have all your shopping done by this Sunday!
People do crazy things in summer. With a head full of new year's resolutions, and a body full of unspent Christmas carbohydrates, we feel the need to explore new horizons. We want to discover things; hike through rainforests; go to the zoo more often. All of this can be pretty exhausting though. Maybe a trip out to see Heide's new exhibition will be enough to quell this strange urge of ours. Future Primitive is a collection of works from Australia and New Zealand that explores our modern fascination with primitivism. Totems, tribal motifs, and an intrigue with the ancient — the art on show creates a surreal trans-continental world of eschewed cultural history. Influences stem all the way from the European Dadaists to individual tribal cultures of the Pacific, and the result is intriguing enough to warrant the trip out of the city. With the work of 19 artists on show, there are a broad range of fascinations and interpretations on show. However, the main thread of stifling colonialism is hard to shake. With historical context, the work can easily become dark or menacing — an eerie trip into a land forgotten by time.
Those searching for the next big thing on Australia’s EDM scene should look no further than Perth trap duo, Slumberjack. Their debut EP, featuring tracks like 'Body Cry', which has racked up over a million plays on Soundcloud, and the Hype Machine-smashing 'Horus', has generated plenty of interest both here in Australia and overseas. Morgan Then and Fletcher Ehlers make some damn fine and infectious dance music that demands you to start flailing your limbs uncontrollably, and they’re finally coming to Melbourne to prove it. The night has been christened 'The Slumber Party', and it’s been suggested you rock up in your jim jams and crash into the pillow pit. They’re even handing out free sleeping masks on entry. In other excellent news, Slumberjack have recently been announced to open for Alison Wonderland at her Wonderland Warehouse Project 2.0. And while this secret warehouse support slot is sure to be boundless amounts of fun, we recommend heading to their headlining show this weekend at Can’t Say to experience the lads in their element.
If you're in Melbourne or Brisbane and Uluru has always been on your travel bucket list, getting to the world-famous large sandstone formation in Australia's Red Centre just got easier. Back in late 2023, Virgin announced that it was starting direct flights from the two cities to the Northern Territory landmark in June 2024 — and now those routes are taking off, complete with a sale slinging cheap fares to celebrate. People make their way Down Under from around the globe to see Uluru. Last year, it was even named one of the best places in the world to visit by The New York Times. For folks keen to head there from the Victorian capital, flights begin on Thursday, June 6, 2024. And for Queenslanders, you can take the trip from Friday, June 7, 2024. The new direct routes mark Virgin's first-ever legs to Uluru from Melbourne and Brisbane. The airline is flying between Melbourne and Uluru four times a week, on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays and Sundays. The carrier is zipping between Brisbane and Uluru three times a week, on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Virgin has partnered with the Northern Territory Government and Voyages Indigenous Tourism Australia — which runs Ayers Rock Resort — on the new services to get more people to the middle of the country. And it's aiming to send quite a few more tourists in that direction, with 62,000-plus seats a year on offer thanks to the two new legs. "To see Virgin Australia planes touching down in Uluṟu again is a huge thrill — this is a landmark moment that underscores the boundless appeal of the Red Centre," said Matt Cameron-Smith, CEO of Voyages Indigenous Tourism Australia. "We're excited to have even more visitors experience the wonders of Uluṟu, along with culturally immersive experiences like Sunrise Journeys and Wintjiri Wiru, through Virgin Australia's extensive network." If you're eager to book ASAP and score a bargain, Virgin's new flight sale is running until 11.59pm AEST on Saturday, June 8, 2024. Fares start at $119 one-way in economy, with dates varying across July–December 2024. For accommodation, Ayers Rock Resort is doing $230-per-night three-night stays as well. [caption id="attachment_905928" align="alignnone" width="1920"] The Salty Travellers[/caption] [caption id="attachment_905930" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Tourism NT and Sean Scott[/caption] Virgin's Melbourne–Uluru services commence on Thursday, June 6, 2024, and its Brisbane–Uluru services start on Friday, June 7, 2024. The airline's current sale on flights to Uluru is slinging fares from $119 until 11.59pm AEST on Saturday, June 8, 2024 — head to the Virgin website for more details.
Melbourne's west is fast developing a reputation for having some of the finest food venues and cultural experiences in the city. Celebrating the best of the west, Eat. Drink. Westside 2018 is a ten-day festival demonstrating the community's diverse flavours and people. Presented as part of the Melbourne Food and Wine Festival 2018, the program features thirty delicious events ranging from lunches to dinners and masterclasses all hosted by some of the country's leading chefs. The events span a diverse range of cuisines from all over the world, too. There'll be an Ethiopian Banquet ($45) — a buffet of meat stews, vegetarian curries and lentil dishes at Footscray's much-loved Konjo Café — served traditionally sans cutlery. Meanwhile, at the Plough Hotel, you can enjoy pork, beer and wine at Pigs, Pints and Pinots — and there's the added bonus of all profits going to local primary schools. Copper Pot Seddon is celebrating the local community, hosting a three-course Sunday roast at its Community Farm event ($78) and the just-opened Harley and Rose will be roasting a whole pig and serving it in tacos at its What's on the Barbeque Block Party ($28). Book nerd with a penchant for cheese? The Chronicles of Cheese ($35) will pair one with the other at the Sam Merrifield Library. Eat. Drink. Westside 2018 is presented across the western suburbs from Friday, March 16, to Sunday, March 25. Head to the Melbourne Food and Wine website for all the details and to book your places.
Bummed you didn't get a Splendour ticket? Angry you bought dozens of Splendour tickets so you could scalp them, and now find yourself holding hundreds of dollars' worth of paper after organisers shut down the re-sale facility over the weekend? Decided not to go this year, thinking you could totally see all the bands you wanted to see when they did their sideshows? Well whoever you are, it's time to whip out those diaries and start making plans — we found the mother of all emails in our inboxes this morning, bursting with sideshow goodness. Listed below are all the details you need for nine bands — electronica wunderkind James Blake, old Splendour favourites Cold War Kids, so-hot-right-now sister act HAIM, MS MR (described to me as "Florence + the Machine, plus Lana Del Rey, with some Kavinsky thrown in"), the R&B-ish indie of Mancunians Everything Everything, Next Big Thing Jake Bugg, LA noise merchants FIDLAR, fast-rising Poms Palma Violets and kings of Florida chill Surfer Blood. And those are just nine of the eleventy-billion bands (we counted!) announced on the full Splendour lineup just a couple of weeks ago. More shows will be announced for the other bands as we get closer to the date. (Though sadly not for The National, Mumford & Sons or TV on the Radio, who are playing their only Australian shows at the festival.) Full ticketing information is on the Secret Sounds website. JAMES BLAKE Fri 26 July – Astor Theatre, Perth Tues 30 July – Sydney Opera House, Sydney Wed 31 July – Palais Theatre, Melbourne Fri 2 Aug – Town Hall, Auckland www.jamesblakemusic.com COLD WAR KIDS Monday 29 July – Metro Theatre, Sydney Tuesday 30 July – The HiFi, Melbourne Thursday 1 August – The Gov, Adelaide Friday 2 August – Capitol, Perth www.coldwarkids.com HAIM Wed 24 July – The Hi-Fi, Sydney Thu 25 July – The Hi-Fi, Melbourne www.HAIMtheband.com MS MR Fri 26 July – The Metro, Sydney Mon 29 July – The Hi-Fi, Melbourne www.msmrsounds.com EVERYTHING EVERYTHING Fri 26 July – The Corner, Melbourne Sat 27 July – The Metro, Sydney www.everything-everything.co.uk JAKE BUGG Thurs 25 July – Oxford Arts Factory, Sydney Sun 28 July – The Corner, Melbourne www.jakebugg.com FIDLAR Mon 29 July – The Corner, Melbourne Wed 31 July – Oxford Arts Factory, Sydney Fri 2 August – Spinoff Festival, Adelaide Sat 3 August – The Bakery, Perth www.fidlarmusic.com PALMA VIOLETS Mon 29 July – Northcote Social Club, Melbourne Tues 30 July – Oxford Arts Factory, Sydney www.palmaviolets.co.uk SURFER BLOOD Wed 24 July – The Corner, Melbourne Fri 26 July – Oxford Arts Factory, Sydney www.surferblood.com
Located just outside Melbourne's busy outer suburban streets and in the green township of Sassafras, Santosa Cottage is a charming private retreat. Surrounded by lush fernery, this two-storey cottage includes a roaring wood fire for those chilly nights and a set of French doors that open out onto a deck where you can sit among the trees. Plus, Sassafras Village is comfortably within walking distance and home to quaint cafes for your coffee and cake fix. Spend your days roaming the Dandenong Ranges National Park and its scenic hiking trails that are suitable for any level of fitness.
Anytime's a good time for oysters, but there's only one occasion where it's perfectly acceptable to gorge on them to the point of no return — and that is the Oyster Frenzy. You must have heard of the Oyster Frenzy by now: a night where abandon is left at the door, and Melbourne's biggest oyster lovers converge to eat as many of the molluscs as they can humanly handle. It's at the same time the fanciest and the messiest buffet we can imagine. Oyster Frenzy #11 will go down at The Deck at The Prince on Thursday 23 July. As well as all-you-can-eat freshly shucked oysters — yes, all-you-can-eat — there will also be other fancy seafood canapes such as hot oysters, clams, mussels, prawn rolls and barramundi hot dogs. Plus, all the required beer, wine and cider to wash it down. April's Frenzy saw 22,032 oysters shucked and swallowed, so do what you need to prepare. And maybe try and get Friday off work.
Arden V Arden is typical of The Hayloft Project’s approach to making theatre; bold, inventive, and prone to adaptation. In the hands of this company, the little-known Elizabethan work Arden of Faversham finds a strangely compelling resonance in a modern retelling which fractures between updated language and original text. The story is fairly straightforward: an unhappy wife convinces her lover to help kill her husband. Involving other conspirators in their plan only makes things worse, with a series of bungled murders punctuating a work that comfortably straddles tragedy and farce. Writer and director Benedict Hardie manages to draw on the company’s signature style of heightened naturalism and stark design without relaxing into familiarity. However, it’s an approach that juggles a lot of balls in the air, and not all land smoothly. In particular, the care that’s taken to flesh out each character in a large ensemble cast slows the pace in the first act significantly, even if it allows for some great moments from figures that could otherwise become tangential, especially true for the characters played by Tom Dent and Paul Blenheim. But it’s these kinds of decisions which make Arden V Arden so enjoyable. In the final scene, for example, James Deeth carries out a final direct address to the audience: a choice that foregrounds the artifice and threatens to completely deflate any satisfying tension. However, it's also evidence of the production's unpredictability, a quality that elevates the show far above a stock standard Shakespearean performance. Whenever the plot’s plausibility looks set to buckle under the strain of translation from Elizabethan England to modern day Perth, it’s Emily Tomlins’ utter commitment as the wife of Arden that papers over any cracks — especially in the closing stages, where she has to sell her character’s headlong reversal from certainty into unstable remorse. It's the combination of these individual performances, the cohesion of a talented ensemble, and the effectiveness of an effortlessly cool design that cap off a production filled with rich surprises, and allows Arden's story of betrayal to ring true in 2013. Unfortunately, Arden V Arden is Hayloft’s final show here before Hardie relocates the company to Sydney, although they're sure to return on tour. The success of this last Melbourne premiere might be a bittersweet reminder of their importance to the city's independent theatre scene, but don’t miss a chance to say farewell. Image: Sarah Walker.
Car sharing service Uber has been making waves of late, but their latest offering is unreservedly tidal. Ahead of the US premiere of Transformers: Age of Extinction on June 27, Uber is giving app users in three American cities the opportunity to ride with Optimus Prime. Though we are unsure whether this Optimus is the talking type, from the image posted by Uber it seems to be the real deal. With an initial roll out yesterday in Dallas, Optimus will soon continue onto Phoenix before a final tour of Los Angeles this weekend. Uber users just open their app and select the ‘Autobots’ option to try their luck at summoning this legendary leader for a 15-minute joyride with the machine of your childhood dreams. This brings to mind local Sydney legend Zac Mihajlovic's recent Batmobile endeavour, in which Sydneysiders can buy joyrides in the Dark Knight's highly coveted date-impressing vehicle. Uber announced their Transformers fantasy come true to users via their blog yesterday, opening with "Get ready for the ride of your life." Hardly an understatement, but it sadly looks as though this ride won’t quite make it to Australian shores for the meantime. As Sam once courageously said to Optimus, "No sacrifice, no victory." Autobots, roll out. Via Mashable and USA Today.
The Gertrude Street Projection Festival will light up the night for the twelfth year in a row, when it returns to Fitzroy this winter. Running for nine nights from July 26–August 3, the free community-driven event will once again showcase spectacular light compositions from local and international artists up and down the northside drag. Some of the glowing work you'll see around the suburb include a video installation by Papua New Guinean artist Taloi Havini; Voice, a piece by Yandell Walton with a focus on climate change; an eerie spirit person by printmaker Tom Civil; and a virtual reality 'cabinet of curiosities' that combines walking, touching and listening to stories. In addition to the 22 projections — which will illuminate everything from shopfronts to footpaths to the trees in the Atherton Gardens and even a skate crew — this year's festival will also feature a program of special events, including parties, pop-ups, and live music and DJ sets, plus a few culinary offerings to tempt you out into the cold from 6pm till midnight each night. Kicking off the festivities will be a free opening night party, complete with a krumping session, at Foresters Hall and it'll wrap up with a block party — with five projections and five hours of performances — at Atherton Gardens. Gertrude Street Projection Festival runs from 6pm–midnight.
