After shutting down over the cooler months, The Craft & Co's distillery and brewery in Preston is finally reopening to the public on Saturday, November 18. To celebrate, the crew will be giving away 1,000 free pots of draught beer across the opening weekend. And this isn't just your stock standard lager or pilsner. Punters can sample something from the whole range — from Japanese rice lagers to hazy pales, sours and more. You can't just rock up on the day, so make sure you register for a free ticket ahead of the weekend. Once you've nabbed your free pot, stick around to sample a few more brews from the Craft & Co range, and have a hit of table tennis by the barrels. The brewery and distillery will also launch its new kitchen during the weekend, serving up woodfired pizzas and a selection of share plates for the first time since opening last year. Get around sticky pork belly bites, salt and pepper squid, mixed mushroom arancini and truffle parmesan fries — all top accompaniments with hoppy brews. Beers aren't the only bevs on the menu; for the opening weekend there'll be a heap of specials on their own spirits and cocktails too. Craft & Co will be serving up free beers on Saturday, November 18 and Sunday, November 19 at its brewery and distillery on 96 Chifley Drive, Preston. To nab the free pot of beer, secure your ticket from the venue's website beforehand.
For most, there isn't much in Alice Walker's Pulitzer Prize-winning 1982 novel The Color Purple that screams for the musical spin. Broadway still came calling. On the page, this tale always featured a jazz and blues singer as a key character. When it initially reached the screen in 1985 with Steven Spielberg (The Fabelmans) directing, it also worked in an anthem that earned an Oscar nomination and has been much-covered since; Quincy Jones composed the film's score and produced the movie. But if the idea of lavish song-and-dance numbers peppered throughout such a bleak account of incest, rape, domestic abuse, racism, injustice, violence and poverty feels like hitting a wrong note, claims otherwise keep springing. First arrived 2005's Tony-winning stage adaptation, then 2015's also-awarded revival. Now, joining the ranks of books that became movies, then musicals, then musical movies just like the new Mean Girls, a second feature brings Walker's story to cinemas — this time with belted-out ballads and toe-tapping tunes. With each take, The Color Purple's narrative has predominantly remained the same as when it first hit bookshelves, crushing woe, infuriating prejudice and rampant inequity included. Musicals don't have to be cheery, but how does so much brutality give rise to anything but mournful songs? The answer here: by leaning into the rural Georgia-set tale's embrace of hope, resilience and self-discovery. Ghanaian director Blitz Bazawule follows up co-helming Beyoncé's Black Is King by heroing empowerment and emancipation in his version of The Color Purple — and while the film that results can't completely avoid an awkward tonal balance, it's easy to see the meaning behind its striving for a brighter outlook. When what its characters go through as Black women in America's south in the early 20th century is so unsparing, welcoming wherever light can pierce the gloom is a human reaction, and how Celie (American Idol-winner Fantasia Barrino in her feature film debut) copes. Although the sun streams, there's little that's merry about The Color Purple's protagonist's existence when the latest movie begins, or afterwards. On her second pregnancy to her bullying father Alfonso (Deon Cole, Black-ish), who sees her as mere property, the teen Celie (fellow first-timer Phylicia Pearl Mpasi, who was a writer on Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies) knows that this baby will be snatched from her again. But at least she has her sister Nettie (Halle Bailey, The Little Mermaid) to dote on, cling to and protect — until she doesn't. Celie is traded to farmer Mister (Colman Domingo, Rustin) for a cow and a couple of eggs, after he asks for Nettie. The younger sibling soon comes knocking on the door after Celie is burdened with cooking, cleaning, mothering his existing kids and weathering more abuse; however, the sisters are forced apart when Mister still can't get what he wants. Heartbreak is The Color Purple's baseline: over Celie's abhorrent treatment by her dad, and then by Mister; at two girls with nothing else to rely on being torn so cruelly from each other; and at the onslaught of pain that keeps streaming, and widely. With Sofia (Oscar-nominee Danielle Brooks, Peacemaker), the wife of Mister's son Harpo (Corey Hawkins, Dracula: Voyage of the Demeter), Celie meets someone who is unapologetic about her place in the world — even in such a harsh and discriminatory world — only for the xenophobic use of the law to cut her down. With aforementioned crooner Shug Avery (Taraji P Henson, Abbott Elementary), who Mister would prefer to have by his side, she finds more than a push towards self-confidence, a true confidant and friendship; alas, happiness in any form is so frequently fleeting. This Marcus Gardley (I'm a Virgo)-penned The Color Purple might package its championing of persistence and sisterhood with emotion-dripping songs, but it still shares much with its big-screen predecessor beyond its plot. Many holdovers come via personnel. Spielberg and Jones return, both as producers. Oprah Winfrey does the same, swapping from playing Sofia in her acting debut the first time around, which earned her both Academy Award and Golden Globe nominations. Another of the original movie's key cast members pops up for a cameo appearance. Also a blatant commonality: that film iterations of this story continue to tamp down The Color Purple's queer romance. 'What About Love?', a duet between Celie and Shug, is a dreamy picture-stealer. As Shug helps Celie to finally value her own desires, Barrino and Henson make a glowing pair. There's passion in their rousing relationship — but if 2024 isn't the time to make their love more than a footnote, then when? Alongside getting audiences yearning for more of Celie and Shug together, that standout tune epitomises a facet of the film that's evident from the very moment that anyone starts singing: this is a stagey production. When musical numbers are pitched as lively escapist fantasies, which isn't rare, Bazawule appears to be making the choice purposefully. Again, although it doesn't always go as smoothly as planned, the reasoning tracks. For Celie and Sofia in particular, finding ways to persevere through everything that they endure, and to retain or regain any sense of spirit, means confronting big emotions. And just as it does in a theatre rather than a cinema, The Color Purple as a musical goes big when those feelings are released through song. (The movie also gets overly enthusiastic with its editing, which proved the case when Jon Poll took on the same role on The Greatest Showman as well.) Even when the exuberant tone doesn't land and emphasising the sets is clunky, Bazawule has compiled an exceptional cast. Barrino and Brooks reprise their turns from the stage, with considerable tasks following in Whoopi Goldberg (Harlem) and Oprah's footsteps — but their expressive performances, which make everything that courses through both Celie and Sofia ripple from the screen, are each rich, raw and resonant. Henson is entrancingly sultry and fierce as Shug, Bailey caring and determined as Nettie, Domingo monstrous but damaged as Mister and Hawkins accommodating as Harpo. Louis Gossett Jr (Kingdom Business) and Jon Batiste (an Academy Award-winner for Soul's score) also make an impression in small parts. This lineup of talent is reason enough to have The Color Purple flicker and echo as a movie musical. And when this reclamation of a grim tale shines brightest, it shines in the same way that Celie's life eventually does: through the right company.
If you're into high-class desserts and free stuff, head down to Atlas Dining on Tuesday, September 5, because you can score free s'mores by hatted chef Charlie Carrington. And if that's not enough to entice you, Atlas is sweetening the deal by giving away free Vodka Cruiser cocktails (if you're over 18). To mark the launch of its new premix cocktails, Vodka Cruiser has teamed up with Carrington — Atlas Dining's Head Chef — to create a range of canned meals to pair with its new canned cocktails. The star of the show? A twist on the traditional classic, transforming the s'more from a standard campfire staple into something "fancy-ish" — bringing together preserved raspberry, rosewater marshmallows and Dutch chocolate. The dish is designed to match the new Vodka Cruiser Raspberry Cosmopolitan and, of course, it comes in a can. You'll want to be quick though, as only the first 100 people to head to Atlas Dining after 12pm will be able to claim a free s'more (and a free cocktail from the new range). Other flavours include Passionfruit Daiquiri and Lime Margarita, created to invoke flavours of the Caribbean and Mexico, respectively. So, make sure to leave a blank space in your schedule around midday. It's not every day you get to try a fancy canned delight from a hatted chef. Pair that with a free Vodka Cruiser, and you've got yourself quite the Tuesday arvo.
What's more terrifying than standing out at high school? It Lives Inside scares up an answer. Here, fitting in with the popular kids has haunting costs — literally — as Indian American teen Samidha (Megan Suri, Never Have I Ever) discovers. Her story starts as all memorable movies should: with a sight that's rarely seen on-screen. While beauty routines are familiar-enough film fodder, watching Sam shave her arms, then use skin tone-lightening filters on her photos, instantly demonstrates the lengths that she's going to for schoolyard approval. Among the white girls that she now calls friends, she also prefers to go by Sam. At home, she's increasingly hesitant to speak Hindi with her parents Inesh (Vik Sahay, Lodge 49) and Poorna (Neeru Bajwa, Criminal). And when it comes to preparing for and celebrating the Hindu ritual of puja, Sam would rather be elsewhere with Russ (Gage Marsh, Big Sky), the boy that she's keen on. It Lives Inside's frights don't spring from razors and social media, or from shortened names and superficial classmates; however, each one underscores how far that Sam is moving away from her heritage. Worse: they indicate how eagerly she's willing to leave her culture behind, too, a decision that's affected her childhood bond with Tamira (Mohana Krishnan, The Summer I Turned Pretty). As their school's only students with Indian backgrounds, they were once happily inseparable. Now Sam considers Tamira a walking reminder of everything that she's trying to scrub from her American identity. Keeping to herself — skulking around clutching a jar filled with a strange black substance, and virtually hiding behind her unbrushed hair — the latter has become the class outcast. So, when she asks Sam for help, of course no is the answer. Making his feature debut after a sizeable list of shorts —and winning SXSW Austin's 2023 Audience Award in its Midnighters section with the unsettling results — writer/director Bishal Dutta loads It Lives Inside's early moments with gnawing unease. Everything that Sam is putting herself through doesn't sit cosily, nor is it meant to. Distress has been eating away at Tamira as well, as her horrified stare everywhere that Sam looks constantly makes plain. Wild and wide eyes shaped by fear and uncertainty may be one of this genre's staples, but Krishnan sports a perfectly petrified pair of peepers as she pleas for assistance. After Sam smashes the ever-grasped canister in anger, annoyance and disbelief, letting out the flesh-eating demonic entity inside, Suri joins in with her own frequently aghast eyeballs. Casting Get Out's Betty Gabriel as a concerned teacher at Sam and Tamira's school savvily reinforces what audiences can quickly spot with In Lives Inside: this is a social thriller just like Jordan Peele's Oscar-winner (and also Us and Nope), plus everything from Sorry to Bother You and Parasite. Here, with a moniker and a central stalking force that also brings It Follows to mind, cues similarly taken from The Babadook, plus high-school humiliation that'd do Carrie proud, it's the pressure to eschew one's roots to blend in that scores the horror treatment. The supernatural presence doing the spooking is a Pishacha, which hail from Hindu and Buddhist folklore — and, as it feeds on negative vibes, its targets aren't random. Indeed, in painting a portrait of the pains that accompany being caught between the traditions of your parents' homeland and the daily reality of the only place you've ever known and its homogenous demands, Dutta gets his movie sinking its teeth in. There's no doubting that It Lives Inside's feature filmmaking first-timer is a student of scary movies: conventions from English-language frightfests spanning decades keep peeking through. Accordingly, the plot co-penned by Dutta with Ashish Mehta (Hush Hush) does inescapably feel like plenty of other flicks, complete with being set in a Spielbergian-esque town. This film loves splashing around red hues to get nightmarish as well, and peering intently at everyone quivering in Pishacha's presence. Using alarmed and startled people on-screen to evoke the same sensations in viewers might be one of the simplest tricks in the book, but it works: empathy is one helluva horror-movie tool. Dutta understands that, and also how powerful it is to witness Sam being so visibly shaken by being trapped between her background and the Americanised ideal that she's decided is her future. Also working swimmingly: Suri and Krishnan, who both make expressive horror stars (as, given Dutta's affection for close-ups, they need to). When Tamira disappears, forcing Sam to take her otherworldly mythology tale and its life-and-death manifestation seriously, Suri keeps adding weight to It Lives Inside's layered emotional journey. Trying to erase your heritage because you think that's the only option and then grappling with what that truly means aren't easy things to deal with, with or without confronting a monster. While many of the movie's most potent moments don't involve the Pishacha in the frame, Suri sells it all — the angst, the facade, coping with her supposed pals thinking that speaking another language is cute, the frustration over her mum's disapproval and choices since moving stateside, the realisations, and the terror and panic all included. It Lives Inside isn't without its own chilling visual touches, though; proving that hinting works better than showing, one early altercation with the picture's boogeyman gives Dutta an instant resume highlight. And, that it's the situation and its significance rather than the actual murderous beast that lingers is 100-percent by design. Musing about immigration, displacement and conformity, and joining the ranks of culturally specific horror such as Under the Shadow and The Vigil, this is a tense and thoughtful film — even if it too, like Sam, is torn between two realms. Thankfully, the meaning that lives inside It Lives Inside gives freshness to a movie that knows it's working with a formula; filtering US teen horror through the Indian American experience is also one of Dutta's clear quests.
Great news, dog lovers of Melbourne: you can now expect to see more pups at more pubs. Across the country, 18 venues are serving pooches their very own version of charcuterie — adorably dubbed 'barkuterie' — including at Richmond's Bridge Hotel. If you spend your life with a canine companion, you'll be able to take your barking buddy on a bar date from Saturday, September 16. On the menu: barkuterie boards created in collaboration with online pet supplies retailer Pet Circle, featuring three dog treats from Nature's Cuts and Zignature paired with seasonal fruit and vegetables. So, while you drink and graze, so can your pupper. Just don't go giving your dog any beer to go with their barkuterie board, of course. The canine snack plate comes in at $12, and arrives to celebrate spring. It's a limited-time special, however, getting tails wagging for four weeks — or until stocks last. 2023 has already delivered doughnut-shaped biscuits for dogs — now this is your next excuse to treat your pet.
'Tis the season for many things — although at one particular pop-up Christmas market, the festivities are entirely, deliciously gin-related. The Craft & Co's returning Gin Market is a one-stop present shop with a very distinct flavour. Taking place at The Craft & Co in Collingwood across the first weekend of December — from Friday, December 1–Sunday, December 3 — this market will showcase a careful curation of delights from an array of Aussie gin distilleries. As it's a sitdown event, they'll be going from table to table, speed-dating style, so you can hear all about the passion for their products. [caption id="attachment_876364" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Rebekah Halls[/caption] Taking part: Boatrocker, Imbue Distillery, Noble Bootleggers and Bibendum, as well as Tiny Bear, Artillery and obviously The Craft & Co. Exclusive specials are promised, so if you're a real ginthusast, you'll want to stock up on presents — and, you know, a few treats for yourself. Tickets cost $35–40 depending on the session — each running for two-and-a-half hours, at 7pm on the Friday; 11am, 2pm and 5pm on the Saturday; and 11am and 2pm on the Sunday — and there'll be nine stalls on offer. And yes, tastings are included in the price, as is a The Craft & Co showbag. You do need to book in advance, too, as walk-ins won't be accepted. Images: Rebekah Halls.
Everyone has a favourite kind of cocktail — and if yours is the good ol' trusty tipple that is the old fashioned, November is your time to shine. Every year, Woodford Reserve hosts Old Fashioned Week, which is about putting the brand's booze to work in a classic concoction. In 2023, it runs from Saturday, November 4–Saturday, November 18. Hailing from the alcohol label and showcasing one specific type of drink, the fest is popping up at more than 40 bars across Australia, including ten in Melbourne. Even better: there's a complimentary Woodford Reserve old fashioned up for grabs for everyone. To claim your sip, you will need to head to the event's website, enter your details, then activate your voucher when you're in one of the participating watering holes. Your places to hit up: Good Heavens, Roy Hammond, Grainery and The Carlton, as well as The Botanical Hotel, Black Kite Commune and Manchuria. The list also includes Mongkok Tea House, Mazo 128 and Strato. And, of course, whether you're drinking your free beverage or not, old fashioneds are firmly on the menu. Good Heavens images: Chip Mooney.
UPDATE, Friday, November 3: Fingernails screens in select cinemas from Thursday, November 2, and streams via Apple TV+ from Friday, November 3. In the world of Fingernails, 'Only You' isn't just a 1982 pop song that was made famous by Yazoo, is easy to get stuck in your head, and is now heard in this film in both French and English. It's also the philosophy that the first English-language feature by Apples filmmaker Christos Nikou has subscribed its characters to as it cooks up a sci-fi take on romance. In a setup somewhat reminiscent of Elizabeth Holmes' claims to have revolutionised blood testing (see: The Dropout), Fingernails proposes an alternative present where love can be scientifically diagnosed. All that's needed: an extracted plate of keratin, aka the titular digit-protecting covering. At organisations such as The Love Institute, couples willingly have their nails pulled out — one apiece — then popped into what resembles a toaster oven to receive their all-important score. Only three results are possible, with 100 percent the ultimate in swooning, 50 percent meaning that only one of the pair is head over heels and the unwanted zero a harbinger of heartbreak. When Fingernails begins, it's been three years since teacher Anna (Jessie Buckley, Women Talking) and her partner Ryan (Jeremy Allen White, The Bear) underwent the exam, with the long-term duo earning the best possible outcome — a score that's coveted but rare. Around them, negative results have led to breakups and divorces as society's faith is placed not in hearts and souls, but in a number, a gimmick and some tech gadgetry (one of the sales pitches, though, is that finding out before getting hitched will stop failed marriages). Even folks who've obtained top marks aren't always content to stop there. Some seek to reaffirm their positive result years down the track. To boost their chances of nabbing a love certificate, other couples take courses to amplify their amorous feelings for each other. Sessions include watching Hugh Grant movies ("nobody understands love more," exclaims the cinema marquee), tracking your paramour's scent, getting breathless underwater while staring into your other half's eyes and the adrenaline rush of tandem skydiving. As their friends go the retesting route — satirising the need for certainty in affairs of the heart pumps firmly through this movie's veins — Anna hasn't been able to convince Ryan to attend The Love Institute as a client. She's soon spending her days there, however, feeding her intrigue with the whole scenario as an employee. When she takes a job counselling other pairs towards hopeful ever-after happiness, she keeps the career shift from her own significant other. Quickly, she has something else she can't tell Ryan: a blossoming bond with her colleague Amir (Riz Ahmed, Sound of Metal). As the operation's head Duncan (Luke Wilson, Fired on Mars) steps her through the official details, including the fact that it is biologically impossible for one person to be in love with two people according to the testing method, Anna starts feeling sparks fly with the co-worker assigned to show her the ropes. Amir has his own girlfriend (Annie Murphy, Black Mirror), but clearly reciprocates. Haddaway's Saturday Night Live- and A Night at the Roxbury-adored 1993 tune 'What Is Love' doesn't get a spin in Fingernails, but that's the question that Nikou and co-screenwriters Stavros Raptis (returning from Apples) and Sam Steiner (a feature first-timer) probe. The Greek writer/director and his collaborators contrast fondness as a contrived series of sensations with affection as a lived-in routine and passion as a butterflies-in-the-stomach response. So, Nikou's picture sees the mechanics, the comfort and the involuntary swirl — and sees Anna torn between everything that she's told, what she's supposed to be satisfied with and the yearnings that she's not meant to be experiencing. The filmmaker also makes a flick that pairs well with fellow new release Foe, exploring what technology can and can't tell us about love, and what will always remain innate, although Fingernails is never as dystopian, nor a thriller — and trades a definite future date for an undetermined era where mobile phones are welcomely absent. When he made his full-length debut with 2020's Apples, Nikou also sought love in an offbeat place, amid a pandemic of amnesia. In the process, he dived into the Greek Weird Wave that's become synonymous with The Favourite's Yorgos Lanthimos, whose own breakout Dogtooth was nominated for the Best International Feature Oscar. Fingernails' helmer was the second assistant director on Dogtooth, in fact, and now adds a picture to his resume that follows in the wonderfully absurdist footsteps of Lanthimos' The Lobster. Both are deeply romantic movies at their core, as well as sharply shrewd and witty flicks about human nature and societal norms. Both rally against conformity and expectation, too, and make physical the pains and struggles that come with the pursuit of affection. That said, Fingernails takes a more tender approach to its scenario. Dispelling the fascination with chasing one definitive perfect match by flouting that itself, it'd also make a great double with Celine Song's Past Lives, where there's nothing simple about a heart torn in two directions. Nikou's knack for casting is no different to Lanthimos' supreme skill in the same domain; what a quietly pining duo that Buckley and Ahmed make. Never seeming at risk of demanding that "yes chef!" be yelled his way, White gets myopic about relationships rather than cooking in a canny supporting role as someone who's blissfully emotionally oblivious — but, like Anna and Amir themselves, viewers are desperate to spend more time amid the real heat. Buckley and Ahmed turn in vulnerable portrayals that sear, even when the pacing unfurling their tale and the hues splashed around them are both muted. Nikou knows how feelings can both explode and simmer, serving up each. As he did in Apples, he also provides more memorable and meaningful dancing, this time as Amir cuts loose, Anna watches on, everything is evident and nothing needs to be said. The film looks away from the actual ripping out of nails — the idea remains suitably squirm-inducing, yet is never seen in gory detail because the audience flinches at the very notion anyway — but cinematographer Marcell Rév (Euphoria, The Changeling) utterly adores peering at Buckley and Ahmed. With different stars, he demonstrated the same focus in Malcolm & Marie with similarly intimate results. The premise here might be as high-concept as plots come, but seeing the longing, loneliness, melancholy, uncertainty, desire and revelations in Fingernails' two key performances couldn't feel more real. This is a movie that tingles with emotion — in its fingertips and everywhere.
Whether or not Noora Niasari was ever explicitly told to write what she knew, the Iranian Australian filmmaker has taken that advice to heart. Her mother listened to the same guidance first, even if it was never spoken to her, either. The latter penned a memoir that has gone unpublished, but helped form the basis of the powerful and affecting Shayda. This account of a mum and her daughter attempting to start anew in a women's shelter doesn't entirely stick to the facts that writer/director Niasari and her mother lived through. The Sundance-premiering, Melbourne International Film Festival-opening, Oscar-contending feature — it's Australia's entry for Best International Feature Film at the 2024 Academy Awards — isn't afraid to fictionalise details in search of the best screen story. Still, the tale that's told of courage, resilience, rebuilding lives and finding a new community is deeply and patently personal. Perhaps even better, it's inescapably authentic. Add Shayda to the list of recent features that couldn't be more moving while flickering across the screen like they're projections of a memory. Aftersun, Past Lives and now this Melbourne-shot and -based effort sport not only that sensation but also that look. None closely visually resemble any of the others, and yet each plays like a window into their directors' histories. What a glorious trend that cinema is enjoying right now: films made by helmers grappling with and sharing their own stories, all crafted by feature first-timers and each hailing from female directors as well. A fourth movie bonded by the same elements is on its way in How to Have Sex, and may more follow. Also magnificent: how so much connects Aftersun, Past Lives, How to Have Sex and Shayda in spirit and origin, and yet each is its own exceptional film. In Shayda's case, Niasari peers back at being barely of primary-school age and making a new home. Fleeing to a women's shelter is the only option that the film's eponymous figure (Zar Amir Ebrahimi, 2022's Cannes Best Actress-winner for Holy Spider) has to get away from the abusive Hossein (Osamah Sami, Savage River), whose controlling nature is matched by that of their patriarchal culture. So, Shayda leaves with six-year-old Mona (debutant Selina Zahednia). As she waits for her divorce proceedings to go through — a complicated task under Iranian law and customs — she seeks refuge at a secret site overseen by the caring Joyce (Leah Purcell, The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart). Even surrounded by kindness and filled with desperation for a better future, every iota of Shayda's decision is fraught and tense; Niasari starts the film with Mona at an airport being told what to do if she's ever there with her father, should he try to take her not only away from her mum but also back to Iran. Exceptional French domestic thriller Custody also chronicled the difficulties faced by a woman striving to break free from a dissolving and dysfunctional marriage, including for her safety and that of her children. The setting varied, as did the cultural context. It wasn't additionally a picture about displacement, as Shayda is; however, it too rippled with anxiety and intensity that dripped from the screen. Niasari's film sees the terror and the trauma, as well as the infuriating bureaucracy that makes an already-distressing situation even more upsetting. It shreds nerves as Hossein receives unsupervised visitations with Mona, and simply as its namesake literally makes her way through the world with the fear of her husband's threatening presence always lurking over her shoulder. Again, this is a feature packed with been-there-seen-that minutiae, and made to echo from the screen with that very air. Shayda spies hope just as clearly, though. Someone endeavouring to spark a new existence half a world away from everything they've ever known has to possess that feeling, which the movie never loses sight of. Neither does cinematographer Sherwin Akbarzadeh (The Giants), who lenses a lived-in, closed-in but also visibly warm film — plus a fluidly shot feature, and yet one that knows how meaningful it is to sit in the moment. Accordingly, hope keeps lingering as Niasari's on-screen surrogate for her mum makes the utmost that she can of living with Joyce and fellow women needing a safe space, and as she fights for Mona, battles for independence and reclaims her agency, too. It's there as she still ensures that Farsi, Persian dance and celebrating Nowruz, or Persian New Year, remain entwined in her daughter's upbringing. Shayda isn't merely hoping for a brand-new way forward; she's doing everything that she can to be herself again, which still means cherishing her background and passing on its traditions. Among the talented women attached to this Sundance Audience Award recipient — emerging victorious in 2023's festival's World Cinema — Dramatic competition — Cate Blanchett is the best globally known name. The Tár and The New Boy actor executive produces, lending the kind of attention that her involvement can give a debut feature, but Shayda belongs to filmmaking star-on-the-rise Niasari, plus the always-wonderful Ebrahimi and fresh discovery Zahednia. With the film arriving so closely with Aftersun, Past Lives and How to Have Sex, it might seem as if making a movie that's so ripped from the heart and soul is easy, although that's unquestionably not true. Another thing that all four features have in common: they feel effortless to watch, but also like the product of hard, meticulous, all-in work. Here's one more: they also make something so personal resonate universally. With Shayda, conveying the fact that Shayda and Mona's plight sadly isn't unique is a clear but never heartstring-tugging aim. That Ebrahimi plays Niasari's lead so soon after winning Cannes' top acting prize is a pure stroke of lucky timing, with casting happening before that accolade. She would've been marvellous without the gong on her mantle already, of course — and marvellous she is. Quiet power shimmers in Shayda's strongest moments. Determination simmers silently even when the character is at her most fragile. Being resolute and being vulnerable aren't positioned as opposites in her devastatingly multi-layered performance. First-timer Zahednia is a find and also just as understated as Ebrahimi; their pairing as mother and daughter is a dream. Not that Shayda skimps on dialogue, but words aren't often needed thanks to their potent portrayals, including to see the world through Shayda and Mona's eyes.
My my, how can you resist this? MAMMA MIA! The Musical is bringing its Greek-set onstage party back to Melbourne in 2023 — and if you're a musical fan, an ABBA devotee or perennially keen to indulge in 70s nostalgia, you'll want to be there. By now, the hit production is well-known around the world, including from previous Aussie runs. It has spawned not one but two movies, too. And, its tale of a young bride-to-be's quest to find her father before her wedding will liven up Princess Theatre from Wednesday, October 4. Here we go again with this restaging of the popular 2017 production, which is filled both with romantic chaos and 22 ABBA tracks. It's one of the biggest jukebox musical hits of the past quarter-century, in fact, as seen by over 65 million people worldwide so far. And, for this run, Elise McCann will be playing Donna Sheridan, after she played Ali in the 2009 season. Sarah Krndija (9 to 5 The Musical, Cruel Intentions: The 90s Musical and Friends! The Musical Parody) steps into Sophie's shoes, while Martin Crewes (Handa's The Phantom of the Opera on Sydney Harbour), Drew Livingston (War Horse) and Tim Wright (New Amsterdam) play her three potential dads. The story, as theatre audiences have enjoyed since 1999, follows 20-year-old Sophie, who is about to marry her fiancé Sky on the fictional Greek island of Kalokairi. It's her dream for her dad to walk her down the aisle, but courtesy of her mother Donna's old diary, she learns that her father could be one of three men: Sam Carmichael, Bill Austin or Harry Bright. Calling all dancing queens, obviously — with that track, the titular number, and everything from 'Money, Money, Money', 'Thank You for the Music', 'Super Trouper' and 'The Name of the Game' to 'SOS', 'Does Your Mother Know', 'Waterloo' and 'Knowing Me, Knowing You' featuring (and 'Take a Chance on Me', 'The Winner Takes It All' and, of course, 'I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do', too). The new Australian run hails from producers Michael Coppel, Louise Withers and Linda Bewick, plus Helpmann Award-winning director Gary Young, choreographer Tom Hodgson and musical supervisor Stephen Amos. Images: James D Morgan / David Hooley.
It couldn't have been hard to cast Pete Davidson as a stoner in Dumb Money, but getting the Bupkis star playing a part that barely feels like a part on paper is perfect in this ripped-from-the-headlines film. He doesn't give the movie's top performance, which goes to lead Paul Dano (The Fabelmans), but he's satisfyingly great as the DoorDash driver who's often trolling his brother online and in-person. He's also an example in Cruella and I, Tonya director Craig Gillespie's entertaining feature of one of the ideas that this true tale heartily disproves. Viewers know what they're going to get from Davidson, and he delivers. Wall Street thought it knew what it was in for when small-time investors splashed their cash on stock for US video-game store chain GameStop, too, but the frenzy that resulted demonstrated otherwise. It was in 2019 IRL when DeepFuckingValue aka Roaring Kitty aka Keith Gill first posted on subreddit r/wallstreetbets that he'd bought stock in GameStop, the Texas-born brand that had been struggling but he thought was undervalued. Dumb Money tells this story from Keith's digital enthusiasm through to the impact upon the financial markets, plus the worldwide attention that followed. In 2021, the GameStop situation wasn't just news. It was a phenomenon, and one of the great modern-day David-versus-Goliath scenarios. There's a reason that this recent chapter of history been turned into a movie, and not just because it's an easy candidate to try to emulate The Big Short: the big end of town kept pulling its usual strings, the 99 percent played their own game instead and the status quo was upended — temporarily. Amid its array of memes, news clips and TikTok snippets, Dumb Money meets Keith in the pandemic, where empty commutes to his industry gig contrast with netizens hanging on his virtual chatter. As the hachimaki-wearing, beer-sipping Roaring Kitty, the Bostonian YouTuber streams from his basement, talking about how "Wall Street gets it wrong all the time" — and why GameSpot might be one of those instances. His wife Caroline (Shailene Woodley, Robots) is already supportive, and viewers and forum posters begin to agree. Enter a motley crew of characters all snapping up stock: Pittsburgh nurse and single mother Jenny (America Ferrera, Barbie) dreams of being able to comfortably take care of her children, Austin college students Riri (Myha'la Herrold, Black Mirror) and Harmony (Talia Ryder, Do Revenge) have tuition to pay, and Detroit GameStop worker Marcos (Anthony Ramos, Transformers: Rise of the Beasts) sports bigger ambitions than toeing the corporate line enforced by his by-the-book boss Brad (Dane DeHaan, Oppenheimer). Keith, Jenny and company comprise Dumb Money's titular term: it's what amateur individual investors are dubbed. On the supposedly "smart money" side sit the wealthy who want to get even wealthier. Hedge fund cronies Gabe Plotkin (Seth Rogen, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem), Steve Cohen (Vincent D'Onofrio, Godfather of Harlem) and Kenneth C Griffin (Nick Offerman, The Last of Us) are all spliced into the pacy narrative from luxurious abodes — Miami mansions, well-appointed offices and country clubs — while looking like money as well as living and breathing it. With GameStop, they're aiming to make more by betting the other way. They'll profit as shares fall, which Roaring Kitty, his acolytes and their efforts to drive up the price to cash in themselves threaten. Also in the slick-and-sweating camp are Vlad Tenev (Sebastian Stan, Sharper) and Baiju Bhatt (Rushi Kota, Never Have I Ever), creators of trading platform Robinhood, which is touted as a democratising advance and widely used by GameStop stock devotees, then shifts its allegiances. Rogen, Stan and Australian filmmaker Gillespe collaborated on Pam & Tommy, which also took a slice of actuality, broke down the details, unpacked the chaos and served it up engagingly. It was an underdog tale as well — not by splitting its time between its eponymous celebrities and the folks who leaked their sex tape, but because Pamela Anderson's fight to be seen as more than a sex symbol beat at its centre. Here, the hierarchy is straightforward. There's no doubting who's battling and who already possesses the power, although an off-screen tidbit does cast a shadow over the anti-establishment push, emphasising that money talks no matter what. Among the film's executive producers are Tyler and Cameron Winklevoss, the investors famous for being portrayed by Armie Hammer in The Social Network, plus everything that movie covered about their involvement in Facebook's early days. Penned by Orange Is the New Black alumni Lauren Schuker Blum and Rebecca Angelo, adapting Ben Mezrich's 2021 book The Antisocial Network: The GameStop Short Squeeze and the Ragtag Group of Amateur Traders That Brought Wall Street to Its Knees (the author's 2009 tome The Accidental Billionaires: The Founding of Facebook, a Tale of Sex, Money, Genius, and Betrayal was the basis for The Social Network), Dumb Money isn't the first time that the GameStop stock saga has reached screens. It also won't be the last. Two-part HBO documentary Gaming Wall Street arrived in 2022 with Succession's Kieran Culkin narrating, and doco film GameStop: Rise of the Players hit the same year. Reports have also swirled about a Netflix feature starring To All the Boys' Noah Centino and written by The Hurt Locker Oscar-winner Mark Boal, and another flick called To the Moon. Whatever else does follow, this version is clearly a Gillespe joint right down to the overt needle drops, which summed up Cruella in all the wrong ways — but style and substance find a better match here. Dumb Money keeps things snappy but never too sleek; it's lively and giddy but grounded; and it's about the rise to eat the rich, not just about rich who demand eating, even if reality's revolution hasn't been that ravenous. The narrative journey is all rollercoaster, as is the stock journey — rises, falls, soaring and dipping included — and Dano's key performance straps in for it all. He's calm, earnest, determined, passionate and likeable, selling Keith's growing folk-hero status as well as the fact that he's an everyman galvanising ordinary people from his suburban home while trying to carve out a better future for his family. Dano is also excellent when dealing with Davidson as Keith's gleefully shit-stirring brother Kevin, who borrows his car without asking to make his deliveries and skims off the orders he's ferrying around. This pair constantly prove apt in the film's story in multiple ways, including by conveying eagerness for more yet not dutifully buying what capitalism is slinging. Everyone around Dano and Davidson hits their marks, albeit without as much room for depth afforded by the screenplay, but Dumb Money is all the more compelling — and right on the money — for never forgetting that this is a collective tale.
UPDATE, Friday, October 27, 2023: Pain Hustlers screens in select cinemas from Thursday, October 19, and streams via Netflix from Friday, October 27. There's never been any need to be subtle about Emily Blunt's talents as an actor. A resume filled with My Summer of Love, The Devil Wears Prada, Sunshine Cleaning, Looper, Edge of Tomorrow, Sicario, Mary Poppins Returns, A Quiet Place and its sequel, plus The English on the small screen, keeps proving a helluva showcase. With those versatile roles and others — Oppenheimer and Jungle Cruise are her most-recent big screen credits — Blunt gives audiences a very particular and highly welcome present. Every part for every actor sees them play characters that are constantly adjusting to their situation, given that's just what life is all about, but watching Blunt convey that experience is quite the gift. As her filmography repeatedly demonstrates, she knows better than most how to weaponise a stare and a pause, convey uncertainty with a shift and a gesture, and use both tone and pace to dig in — and, in a long line of excellent Blunt performances, that knack is on full display in Pain Hustlers. This pharma drama's best star — Chris Evans (Ghosted), Catherine O'Hara (Elemental), Andy Garcia (Expend4bles), Brian d'Arcy James (Love & Death) and Chloe Coleman (Dungeons & Dragons: Honour Among Thieves) all leave an imprint as well, but Blunt is the movie's knockout — steps into the shoes of Liza Drake. Relentlessly adapting is the Floridian's normality; she's a single mother to teenager Phoebe (Coleman), who has epilepsy that requires surgical treatment that Liza can't afford, and also lives in her sister's garage while stringing together cash from whichever jobs she can find. It's at one such gig as an exotic dancer, where her talent for sizing up a scenario and making the most of it is rather handy, that Pete Brenner (Evans) crosses her path. He wants more than her barside banter, proposing that she comes to work for him. If he didn't want her to genuinely take it up, he shouldn't have made the offer. Also apparent in Pain Hustlers: the latest on-screen takedown of the pharmaceutical industry and corresponding interrogation of the opioid crisis, aka one of pop culture's current topics du jour. Indeed, in only his second non-Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts film since 2007 (the other: The Legend of Tarzan), director David Yates happily relies upon the fact that this realm is common ire-inducing knowledge no matter whether you've read journalist Evan Hughes' coverage of Insys Therapeutics — including 'The Pain Hustlers', a New York Times Magazine article, then The Hard Sell: Crime and Punishment at an Opioid Startup, the non-fiction book that followed. First-time screenwriter Wells Tower draws upon both, but similarly knows that his fictionalisation rattles around a heavily populated domain. Stunning documentary All the Beauty and the Bloodshed earned an Oscar nomination, miniseries Dopesick picked up an Emmy, and both Painkiller and The Fall of the House of Usher have hit Netflix in 2023 — as will Pain Hustlers — while diving into the same subject. In reality, Insys marketed a fentanyl spray called subsys for pain management, then came under legal scrutiny for adopting a whatever-it-takes approach to encourage doctors to champion the fast-acting, strong and addictive opioid. That's the Pain Hustlers story as well, as intercut early with faux documentary-style chats with the film's characters to make it plain from the outset that there's comeuppance in store for their unscrupulous and infuriating actions. Pete is a hotshot at Zanna, a pharmaceutical startup under the guidance of widower doctor Jack Neel (Garcia) that's spruiking its own mist. In his strip-club employment pitch, Pete doesn't tell Liza that the company's days are numbered if medical professionals keep steering clear of their drug lonafen. During that chat, he also doesn't glean how determined that the ever-enterprising Liza is when she sets her mind on something. From a starting point of zero, Liza boosts lonafen's market penetration to 86 percent quickly in the rise portion of Pain Hustlers' tale. Again, viewers are well-primed that the fall will come, but this is a hustling-fuelled, capitalism-indicting, "what would you do?" type of telling. An amalgamation of a few IRL folks, Liza is the only person who finds an angle into medicine cabinets, getting lonely pain-clinic doc Lydell (James) over the line in no small part thanks to paying him attention. She's also the only character with questions about the corporate-sanctioned move into bribes, false claims, and flouting regulations in the pursuit of more and more success ("grow or die," implores Neel). Hollywood neatness lingers in her arc, as someone with an urgent need for money to help her family and sincerity in her belief that she's slinging a worthy product, while also enamoured with the upgrade from motel living to a palatial apartment, even hiring her mother (O'Hara), and proving exceptional and influential at her task. That's where Blunt, who is also one of Pain Hustlers' producers, couldn't be more crucial — selling every slippery, driven, desperate, calculating, American dream-chasing and well-meaning choice alike. In a version of this film that didn't feature Blunt, everything would suffer, including her co-stars. From Evans in Knives Out- and The Gray Man-esque skeezy terrain (so, worlds away from Captain America) to Garcia getting hopped up on greed, everyone in Pain Hustlers is at their best when they're reacting to her — and, of course, she's equally formidable whether she's in the centre of the glossily shot frame alone or flanked. Making workmanlike contributions, Yates and Tower prescribe only the expected otherwise. Apart from stressing that their movie isn't advocating pushing pills (well, sprays in this instance), their doco-leaning segments are gimmicky, even when they survey patients with horror stories. Pain Hustlers is still engaging enough, though, but it's the picture's terrifically cast lead that's compulsive to watch. When Liza, Pete and company — Jay Duplass (Industry) and Amit Shah (Happy Valley) are among Zanna's other employees — are making bank, the lonafen playbook isn't far removed from their competitors. In a film that recalls The Big Short and Martin Scorsese's work, there's a raging case of like plot, like movie as blatant as a bright-orange pill cylinder. Pain Hustlers doesn't just tread in Dopesick et al's footsteps, but in Goodfellas and The Wolf of Wall Street's as well. Liza could be a sibling to Erin Brockovich's namesake, too, with the performance to match. And, as it trades in horrific details yet never goes full horror like The Fall of the House of Usher, Succession also lingers. In one of Evans' great scenes, in fact, he takes to the stage in costume and raps the drug's praises. He's decked out like a lonafen spray, but he's firmly and gleefully in Kendall Roy territory. It's an entertaining moment, but also underscores the difference between watchable and spectacular.
When Barry said farewell, it brought one of the best supporting performances in recent years to an end with it. Star, creator, writer and director Bill Hader wasn't the only talent scoring awards for the hitman dramedy, with Henry Winkler also earning plenty of love — and nabbing his first Primetime Emmy win more than four decades after he was first nominated in the 70s for Happy Days. That's quite the story from a career full of them, given that Winkler will always be known as Arthur 'The Fonz' Fonzarelli, for scene-stealing parts in Arrested Development and Parks and Recreation, and for popping up everywhere from the Scream franchise and The French Dispatch to multiple Adam Sandler movies as well. And, Winkler will tell those tales when he heads to Australia in 2024 on a speaking tour to reflect upon his time in Hollywood. [caption id="attachment_918614" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Andrew Eccles[/caption] Jumping sharks might not be on the agenda, but chatting about doing so more than once — and changing TV history when he made the leap the first time — likely will be. Acting classes also won't be on the itinerary, but hearing about half a century spent performing definitely is. Winkler's tour will follow the release of book Being Henry: The Fonz... and Beyond in October, which will also step through playing Fonzie, Barry Zuckercorn, Dr Saperstein, Gene Cousineau and more. On a six-stop visit, Winkler will head to Hamer Hall, Arts Centre Melbourne on Thursday, February 15. Hopefully also getting a mention: his role in helping develop the original MacGyver back in the 80s. Top image: HBO.
In the breakout movie of 2022, Michelle Yeoh was everything and everywhere. Multiverses are like that. Now, the Oscar-winner voices a space-robot peregrine falcon in Transformers: Rise of the Beasts, and viewers should wish that this only existed in Everything Everywhere All At Once's kaleidoscope of realities. Alas, in this very realm, the newest Transformers film is indeed flickering through projectors. The toy-to-screen series it belongs to is now seven live-action entries in and — apart from 2018 spinoff-slash-prequel Bumblebee — largely still as dull as a smashed headlight. Set in 1994, the current instalment is a sequel to the last 1987-anchored franchise flick, which focused on the yellow-hued mechanised alien that can morph into a car, and also a prequel to 2007's saga-spawning Transformers. It draws upon the Transformers: Beast Wars animation, comics and video games, too, and feels in every frame like a picture that purely exists to service intellectual property that does big box-office business (2011's Transformers: Dark of the Moon and 2014's Transformers: Age of Extinction each made over a billion dollars). Michael Bay, Hollywood's go-to director for maximalist action carnage, might've been enthusiastic about Transformers when he started the silver-screen series nearly two decades back — the Ambulance filmmaker was definitely devoted to crashing together pixels replicating chrome in all five titles he helmed, including 2017's Transformers: The Last Knight — but these movies can't be anyone's passion projects. They show zero feeling, and seem to keep rolling out because the saga assembly line has already been established. New faces and a new guiding force behind the lens can't dislodge that sensation with Transformers: Rise of the Beasts. The five-person team responsible for the script give no signal that they even wanted to. The feature's latest two leads do resemble people better than most flesh-and-blood characters in the Transformers world, welcomely, although one gets a sick-kid backstory and another a bad boss. Were the Transformers themselves asked to write the most cliched screenplay they could? Anthony Ramos (In the Heights) and Dominique Fishback (Swarm) are Transformers: Rise of the Beasts' prime living-and-breathing figures, running, chasing and palling around with Autobots as Shia LaBeouf (Pieces of a Woman), Megan Fox (Good Mourning), Mark Wahlberg (Uncharted) and Hailee Steinfeld (Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse) all have before them. Ramos plays former solider Noah Diaz, who has that ailing younger brother (Dean Scott Vazquez, also an In the Heights alum) and massive medical bills to prove it. Fishback is archaeology intern Elena Wallace, whose vapid boss (Sarah Stiles, Billions) constantly cribs from. Both of Transformers: Rise of the Beasts' on-screen stars are excellent actors — Ramos was in Hamilton's debut Broadway cast, while Fishback has a BAFTA nomination for Judas and the Black Messiah — and the film benefits from their presence. Still, even the best thespians can only do so much when they're primarily tasked with rushing around and peering upwards at CGI chunks of walking, talking metal. That dashing and staring, and befriending extra-terrestrial machines in general, is the result of doing things that neither Noah nor Elena are meant to. They're strangers with Brooklyn in common, and soon trying to save existence as well. He gets light-fingered for a payday, attempting to steal a Porsche that's actually the Autobot Mirage (voiced by Pete Davidson, Bupkis). After hours, she's examining an unusual artefact with intriguing markings, which happens to be a key that lets the Transformers warp between different worlds, including back to their own. That discovery sets off a beacon in the sky, earning the attention of Optimus Prime (Peter Cullen, whose time in the role hails back to the OG 80s animated TV series) just as Noah and Mirage are getting acquainted. Also paying notice: Scourge (Peter Dinklage, Cyrano) from the nefarious Terrorcons, who wants to use the pivotal device to bring the planet-devouring (and -sized) Unicron (Colman Domingo, Fear the Walking Dead) to earth. The mission: fend off those evil shapeshifting droids, protect the gadget at all costs and, gratingly, talk about it while mentioning Autobots, Terrorcons and the transwarp key as much as possible. Director Steven Caple Jr (Creed II) endeavours to give Ramos and Fishback more character-building moments than their franchise predecessors, but they're always saddled with spouting rote, jargon-laced dialogue that somehow needed The Flash's Joby Harold, BMF's Darnell Metayer and Josh Peters, and The Meg's Erich Hoeber and Jon Hoeber to write. Given the hefty cast list, there's a wealth of talent reciting bland lines, including Ted Lasso's Cristo Fernández, Loot's Michaela Jaé Rodriguez and Poker Face's Ron Perlman among the Transformers. The latter voices Optimus Primal, the gorilla-esque leader of the Maximals, aka the animal robots that the movie's title references — and just one of the moves that the film makes to create a Hasbro Cinematic Universe. As plenty of franchises are woefully guilty of recently — see: the Marvel Cinematic Universe's Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania for one of the worst examples — Transformers: Rise of the Beasts has its focus on the future over polishing up its current instalment. Indeed, too much that's meant to give this robo-battle personality is lazily sprinkled in, such as the hip hop needle drops because it's the 90s (cue: A Tribe Called Quest, Nas, the Notorious BIG and LL Cool J) and pop-culture references (such as Super Mario Bros on Game Boy). A self-aware mention of Marky Mark leaving the Funky Bunch for acting falls flat, as does calling out Indiana Jones while aping that franchise's cave-searching adventure plots in Peru. In fact, namechecking Mario when it's been given the big-screen treatment again in 2023, plus Indy when that series' latest picture hits cinemas the same month as this, just reminds viewers that they might want to be watching other films. Much of Transformers: Rise of the Beasts incites that reaction anyway, especially its visually uninspired special effects and action sequences that look about as appealing as throwing household electronics in a bin. When they're undisguised junk for the eyes, every aspiring and actual blockbuster that follows Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse this year will spark one question: why is this live action? When animation can look as astonishing as all things Spider-Verse do, and when CGI can be as dreary as it is here, surely these space robots should go back to their cartoon roots. Thankfully, with 2024's Transformers One, they are. Unlike The Transformers: The Movie managed to score, no future animated flicks will ever boast Orson Welles among its voice cast, though — he loaned his tones to Unicron in that 1986 effort — but they also can't be as tedious as Transformers: Rise of the Beasts.
Has Jennifer Lawrence entered her Jennifer Coolidge era? With the spirit of American Pie lingering over No Hard Feelings like unpaid property taxes — a pivotal part of the movie's plot — the Silver Linings Playbook Oscar-winner and Winter's Bone, Hunger Games, X-Men and mother! star is flirting with that direction and loving it. No one sticks their genitalia in a warm home-baked dessert or talks about band camp in Lawrence's latest film, but it is a sex comedy about an inexperienced teenager that includes parents giving clumsy advice. It also involves getting lucky with an older woman; while Lawrence is only 32 and plays it here, an age gap — as well as the chasms between millennials and zoomers, and with the generations prior — is essential to the narrative. The spirit of Coolidge, a game Lawrence, gags about Hall & Oates' 1982 earworm 'Maneater' — a storyline that somewhat riffs on its lyrics, in fact — and battles over class, generational differences and gentrification: that's No Hard Feelings. Based on a real-life Craigslist ad, it's also the next movie from filmmaker Gene Stupnitsky, who penned Bad Teacher and made his feature directorial debut with Good Boys. Where the latter took a Superbad-esque setup but swapped 17-year-olds out for sixth graders, his second flick as a helmer tells a coming-of-age tale on two levels. Percy Becker (Andrew Barth Feldman, White Noise) is the introverted brainiac whose helicopter parents (Daybreak's Matthew Broderick and Life & Beth's Laura Benanti) want to live a little before he hits Princeton University, while Maddie Barker (Lawrence, Causeway) is the bartender and Uber driver who's been in a state of arrested development ever since giving up her plans to surf California's beaches when her mother got sick. Those taxes? Maddie owes them on her Montauk house, which she inherited from and remains in while the New York hamlet she grew up in is inundated by wealthy holidaymakers. And those tourists? Sweeping in for only part of the year, splashing around cash and causing property values to skyrocket while pushing locals out, they're the reason that Maddie's debt is so hefty. They're also why Percy and his family are in town for the summer. And, in general, those rich interlopers are a prime target for Maddie's anger, unsurprisingly. Still, usually the well-to-do influx helps boost her finances — driving folks around in a vacation town while the weather's right can be lucrative — but her car has just been repossessed, hence an advertisement offering a Buick Regal for dating and sleeping with Percy earning her attention. "These people use us, so why don't we use them?" is Maddie's pregnant pal Sara's (Natalie Morales, Dead to Me) take on the situation. Sporting that exact mindset, Maddie commits. The Beckers want her to bring their shy, reclusive and neurotic son out of his bedroom by taking him to bed — patriarch Laird fondly recalls his own first youthful fling, with Stupnitsky adding an extra layer by having Ferris Bueller's Day Off great Broderick in the role — and Percy has no idea about the deal. Whether Maddie is asking to touch his wiener at his animal-shelter volunteer job, inadvertently getting him suspecting that he's being kidnapped by offering him a lift in Sara's spouse Jim's (Scott MacArthur, Killing It) van filled with machetes and harpoons, teaching him how to drink Long Island iced teas, or taking him skinny dipping by moonlight and fighting the pranksters who try to steal their clothes in the nude, seducing the college-bound young man is far from an easy gig. Co-scripting with John Phillips (Dirty Grandpa), Stupnitsky also has both Percy and Maddie clutch onto the bonnet of speeding cars, and throws in hectic faux prom nights and eventful pre-uni parties; however, the raunchiest thing about No Hard Feelings is largely its premise. Bawdy humour still echoes, especially when Maddie is playing the libidinous part she's being paid to — but, as she genuinely starts to connect with Percy as a friend, so does earnestness. She's initially willing to slip between the sheets to get her life back on track, and pretends to be the stereotypical teen-boy fantasy to do so. He wants to talk, get to know her and build something physical out of a true emotional bond. Of course the film that results seesaws between the ribald and sweet, and of course it's never completely one or the other. That isn't a failure of nerve, but reflects the chaos that is growing up even when you're already supposed to be grown up. No Hard Feelings is rarely as consistently funny as it wants to be, but it'd be far more awkward than it's meant to be if Maddie and Percy weren't so well cast. The luminous Lawrence is a comic dream, no matter if Maddie is cringing at her own behaviour, bluntly decrying teens today and the ultra-rich always, attempting to climb stairs in rollerblades or turning on the sultriness. She serves up a physical comedy masterclass, and long may amusing movies that call upon her laugh-inducing skills keep joining her resume (well, other than the smug Don't Look Up). She's such a natural here that wanting No Hard Feelings to constantly ramp up the OTT antics stems wholly from her performance. (Also, as Coolidge keeps popping to mind, who wouldn't want to see Lawrence in The White Lotus in the future, whether in Thailand or wherever future seasons of the hit HBO series end up.) Feldman, who took time out from high school IRL to play the titular part in Dear Evan Hansen on Broadway for a spell and then from uni for this, brings nuance to what could've been a stock-standard nerdy character in other hands. The key to his performance, and to Lawrence's: amid the overtly comic moments, they each know that they're stepping into the shoes of people who are stuck and struggling in their own ways, and they're sincere about having Maddie and Percy work through that together. So, crucially, is the sunnily shot picture itself. Although it's better when Stupnitsky and Phillips put their faith the movie's central portrayals rather than getting thematically heavy-handed, and it's also gleefully formulaic, No Hard Feelings has film-stealing stark-naked brawls, Lawrence in go-for-broke comedic mode, and insight and heart.
Since April, Melbourne's Australian Centre for the Moving Image has been celebrating femininity across screen history at world-premiere showcase Goddess: Power, Glamour, Rebellion. On offer: an exhibition focusing on ladies in cinema and television, including examining how women are represented, championing standout talents, exploring how depictions and expectations have changed, and unpacking what female talents have symbolised — and been forced to deal with — about and from the society around them. Head by any time until Sunday, October 1 and that's what awaits. It's both a massive and a landmark exhibition. More than 150 original costumes, objects, artworks, props and sketches are gracing the Federation Square venue's walls and halls, all heroing oh-so-many women and their impact. Make a date between Friday, August 4–Sunday, August 13, however, and you'll get discounted entry. Across the ten days, ACMI is slinging tickets for just $10 — and cheap bookings are available online We're the country that gave the world Cate Blanchett, Nicole Kidman and Margot Robbie, to name just a few renowned Australian actresses owning the silver screen in recent years, so of course we're the country that's spearheading this exhibition. Among a lineup that spans threads that've never been displayed before, various cinematic trinkets, large-scale projections and other interactive experiences, attendees can check out odes to Marlene Dietrich in 1930's Morocco, Pam Grier's spectacular Blaxploitation career, Tilda Swinton in 1992's Orlando and the aforementioned Robbie via 2020's Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn). Plus, there's Mae West's sky-high heels from 1934's Belle of the Nineties, as well as Michelle Yeoh's fight-ready silks from 2000's Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. The list goes on, clearly, covering Anna May Wong, Marilyn Monroe, Laverne Cox and Zendaya as well. And, everything from Glenn Close's Cruella de Vil in 102 Dalmatians to the Carey Mulligan-starring Promising Young Woman also gets time to shine. Images: Eugene Hyland Photography.
Talented pooches have been barking their way to big-screen stardom since the birth of the medium, and Cannes Film Festival even gives out awards for ace pupper performances. In Australia for a few years now, we also celebrate the intersection of canines and cinema — via our very own dog-themed movie showcase. At the Top Dog Film Festival, doggos and puppers cement their status as humanity's favourite film stars in a touring program of pooch-centric shorts. For a couple of hours, dogs will leap across screens in a curated selection of heartwarming flicks about humanity's best friend. Over the last few years, the lineup has included films about dog-powered sports, dogs in space, dogs hiking through the desert, senior dogs and more — with this year's bill highlighting dolphin-spotting dogs, animal actors and mountain pups. The festival hits Melbourne's Astor Theatre on Tuesday, August 29 as part of its 2023 run, and rushing after tickets the way your best four-legged friend rushes after a frisbee is recommended. Given how much we all love watching dog videos online, not to mention attending pupper-centric shindigs in general, this event is certain to be popular. You'd be barking mad to miss it, obviously.
Old hat, new whip. No, that isn't Dr Henry Walton 'Indiana' Jones' shopping list, but a description of Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny. While the fifth film about the eponymous archaeologist is as familiar as Indy films come, it's kept somewhat snapping by the returning Harrison Ford's on-screen partnership with Fleabag's Phoebe Waller-Bridge. When this 15-years-later sequel to 2008's Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull begins — swinging into cinemas after 1981's Raiders of the Lost Ark, 1984's Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom and 1989's Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, too — Indy's trademark fedora and strip of leather have already enjoyed ample action. So has the George Lucas-created franchise's basic storyline. If you've seen one Indy outing in the past 42 years, you've seen the underlying mechanics of every other Indy outing. And yet, watching Ford flashing his crooked smile again, plus his bantering with Waller-Bridge, is almost enough to keep this new instalment whirring. Across the quintet of Indy flicks — a number contractually locked in at the outset, even if it took almost half a century to notch them all up — a trinket always needs recovering. Whether it's a relic, stone, cup, carving or, as here, a device by Ancient Greek mathematician, philosopher and inventor Archimedes that might facilitate time travel, nefarious forces (typically Nazis) always want said item as well. Also, only antics that've influenced the likes of Tomb Raider, National Treasure and Jungle Cruise can ensure that whatever whatsit is at the heart of whichever picture stays out of the wrong hands. The object in question falls into those mitts at some point, of course. Indy goes globetrotting and cave diving to save it, and skeletons and creepy-crawlies tend to get in his way. Reliably, he has female company. Frequently, there's a young offsider tagging along. A constant: the whole escapade bounding to the tune of John Williams' rousing theme, which is now acoustically synonymous with adventure. Lucas didn't come up with the story for Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, though, in a first for the saga that he conjured up as a new version of 30s and 40s movie serials. Steven Spielberg (The Fabelmans) similarly steps away from directing, which is also uncharted Indy territory. But Logan and Ford v Ferrari filmmaker James Mangold knows the drill, as do his co-screenwriters Jez Butterworth and John-Henry Butterworth (both alumni of the helmer's latter title), plus David Koepp (Kimi). To be fair, everyone knows the drill: see above. It isn't hard, then, for Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny to surpass the woeful Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, which it does. Still, it isn't easy for it avoid playing like a copy of Lucas and Spielberg at their much-earlier Indy best, something that it can't manage. Mangold and company's initial step is to start by pretending that they're making an Indy flick decades back with a younger Ford. Hollywood's digital de-aging technology gets its latest workout in Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny's opening sequence — and a more-than-passable one — where it's 1944 and Nazis lurk. World War II is waning. Hitler is in his bunker. His underlings are scrounging up all the antiquities they can. Enter Indy spying with his British friend Basil Shaw (Toby Jones, Tetris); physicist Jürgen Voller (Mads Mikkelsen, Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore) being certain that he's found part of the Archimedes Dial, aka the Antikythera; and showdowns on a loot-filled train to get the titular object away from the Third Reich. From there, Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny's bulk takes place in 1969. The film reteams with Indy as a moon-landing party wakes up the about-to-retire professor from a whisky-ushered, underwear-clad slumber in his armchair — and he isn't happy. Ford in cranky and cantankerous mode, but with tenderness inside, remains a gem to watch. It worked in TV series Shrinking earlier in 2023 (one of his two recent TV roles, alongside Yellowstone prequel 1923), and it would've been the heftiest surprise that the Indy movies have delivered if it didn't also shine in his current big-screen franchise revival of late (after Blade Runner and Star Wars, obviously). Ford bickering gruffly is equally gleaming, which is where Waller-Bridge fits in as Helena Shaw, Basil's daughter and Indy's goddaughter, who wisecracks back, can hold her own in a fray and car, and says she wants help locating the entire Antikythera. If everyone could be taken at their word, this wouldn't be an Indy entry, just like if the MacGuffin was simple to source and protect, travelling by map didn't feature and, since Raiders of the Lost Ark, well-loved faces stopped resurfacing. Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny ticks all those boxes and always feels as if it's making a show of ticking them — regularly, gleefully, less gracefully and convincingly digging into the franchise's past Star Wars: Episode VII — The Force Awakens nod-and-reuse style. There's the old hat again, no matter what's atop Ford's head. Lacking Spielberg's knack for memorable action, many of the chases and puzzles have an urgent, immediate yet been-there-done-that air (and the setpieces keep coming, involving horse-and-motorcycle pursuits, subway tunnels, tuk tuks, underwater jaunts, eels, tombs and more). Mangold tries to patch over the boilerplate plot, but those efforts are as flimsy as anything that's ever threatened Indy's world-saving goals. Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny didn't need to stretch out this latest go-around to the series' longest running time yet — 154 minutes — but with Ford and Waller-Bridge at the movie's core, understanding that choice isn't difficult. Although they're better than the material again and again, as is Short Round replacement Teddy (Ethann Isidore, Mortel), it's entertaining to bask in the pair's back-and-forth as Indy and Helena zip through the franchise-standard challenges. There's the new whip, because Ford and Waller-Bridge are that crucial to giving Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny any spark and charge. While the five-film promise is now fulfilled and this has been dubbed the saga's star's last ride, a tighter and bolder follow-up with them at the centre wouldn't be unwelcome if there have to be more Indy movies, which money dictates there'll have to be. And if not, passing the satchel and leather jacket to Everything Everywhere All At Once Oscar-winner Ke Huy Quan, marking his return after making his acting debut in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, would be one of the Indy franchise's most cracking moves.
Calling all vegans and vegan-curious folk. The annual Vegan Market is back in Williamstown on Sunday, August 6. If you haven't checked this one out before, expect wall-to-wall vegan food, locally-designed items and live music. You'll find 100 local plant-based businesses selling everything from bliss balls and cupcakes to cannabis oil and ethical clothing. Vegan cacao, vegan ice-cream, vegan DJs – they're all here. The Vegan Market actually runs events in Canberra, Adelaide and Brisbane too. Melbourne's market is taking place at Seaworks in Williamstown, right next to the waterfront. It's a great excuse to cross the West Gate and entry is 100% free. Pro tip: save some room for some chips from Off The Pier, then eat them on the grass by the rotunda. Perfect Sunday afternoon right there. Small flag: dogs aren't allowed inside the market (for obvious cupcake-stealing reasons), but assistance animals are more than welcome. You can find more info on the website. Images: supplied.
In the spirit of NAIDOC Week, which this year runs from Sunday, July 2–Sunday, July 9, Koorie Heritage Trust (KHT) in Fed Square are celebrating with a jam-packed program of special events paying homage to First Nations culture and the important role Elders have played as knowledge holders and community leaders. This year's NAIDOC Week theme is 'For Our Elders'. The program kicks off on 1 July with a Feather Flower Workshop with Waddi Waddi, Ngarrindjeri and Yorta Yorta Elder, Aunty Glenda Nicholls. This is a kid-friendly class where you can learn about the cultural significance of flowers in Koorie communities. There's also Create Your Own Murnong Daisy Necklace with Wadawurrung woman Dr Deanne Gilson, basket weaving with Yorta Yorta woman Donna Blackall, and a free KHT x NGV community tour, which includes the current KHT exhibition, Second Skin: Essence of Country. You can browse the full KHT NAIDOC Week program over here. Most events only run for one day only, and everything wraps up on Sunday, July 9. Prices vary and there are several free school holiday events, so it's a great one for families. If you haven't explored Koorie Heritage Trust before, now's the perfect time. You'll find it tucked away in the Yarra Building at Fed Square. Images: Supplied
Show a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T and head to the one-day-only Aretha — A Love Letter to the Queen of Soul at Hamer Hall this July. On Sunday, July 2, there'll be two exclusive shows, chock-full of the extraordinary star's powerful hits. This special event will showcase Aretha Franklin's wide ranging vocal talents and her timeless anthems. A diverse multigenerational cast will perform 32 of the Queen's hits, guaranteed to have you dancing in your seat and singing along to iconic tunes like 'Respect' and 'You Make Me Feel Like (A Natural Woman)'. The stellar cast includes Montaigne, the ARIA-nominated Emma Donovan, Thndo, Thandi Phoenix and Ursula Yovich — with music direction by Joe Accaria and support from a nine-piece band. The show is both narrated and directed by Jada Alberts, who weaves in the stories of the artist's public success and personal struggles — which ultimately paved the way for other female and soul artists to make their own mark on the world. This event is a spectacular opportunity to hear of the beginning of Franklin's life. It'll take you from her gospel roots and rising fame, all the way to her reaching worldwide recognition. Her talents earned her many accolades, including 18 Grammy Awards and the title of Rolling Stone's 'Greatest Singer of All Time'. She's also sold over 75 million records. Head to Hamer Hall next month to celebrate the life of a woman who broke down barriers and made a lasting impact on the world of music. 'Aretha' is taking over Hamer Hall on Sunday, July 2 for two shows only. For more information and to secure your tickets, head to the website. Images: Cybele Malinowski.
The young-gun chef behind globe-trotting restaurant concept Atlas Dining is teaming up with one of the OGs of Melbourne's Italian food scene, for a one-off feast fuelled by fire. On Tuesday, October 4, you can catch Charlie Carrington as he ventures north of the river and joins Joe Vargetto at his Kew mainstay Mister Bianco. Guests are in for a smoky, seasonal four-course spread, guided both by Carrington's affinity for cooking over flames and Vargetto's signature Sicilian flavours. The collaborative menu might feature hits like smoked goats cheese and pine nut tortellini in a smoky parmesan and pumpkin broth, duck matched with eggplant caponata and smoked capsicum sauce, and a semifreddo of smoked milk finished with grilled berries and rich chocolate ganache. Included in your $135 ticket is a series of matched sips, with Scorpo wines and cocktails crafted on Brogan's Way gin among the night's drinks curation. Top Image: Mister Bianco
If we didn't watch horror movies in cavernous darkened rooms, projected large on shimmering screens and with every noise echoing throughout the theatre, would they be as unsettling? If you've ever jumped out of your chair while staring at your TV at home, you'll already know the answer to that question: yes, yes they would. Still, there's nowhere better to see a scary flick, new or old, than at the cinema — where hopefully loud popcorn-munching is the only distraction. This Halloween, the Lido is taking that idea to heart with a Halloween Horror program. Four days, one big screen, four supremely spooky horror-movie classics: that's the bill from Friday, October 28–Monday, October 31. These aren't just any old eerie flicks. They're must-sees that've influenced almost every horror film ever made over the past five decades. In other words, if you're a movie buff, it's the perfect Halloween experience. Thanks to The Shining, you can see what happens when all work and no play help Jack Nicholson get creeped out in the Overlook Hotel — and learn why hedge mazes will always be chilling. Next, it's time for a date with a demon via The Exorcist. A word of advice: don't eat anything green beforehand. Maybe don't wear a red-and-green striped jumper, either, given that the original A Nightmare on Elm Street is also on the lineup in all of its supremely 80s glory. And, while it has spawned a heap of sequels — like almost everything in this program — nothing will ever live up to the OG The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. If you're easily frightened (and that isn't part of the fun for you), this film lineup isn't for you, clearly.
When it's claimed that Decision to Leave's Detective Hae-joon (Park Hae-il, Heaven: To the Land of Happiness) needs "murder and violence in order to be happy", it's easy to wonder if that statement similarly applies to Park Chan-wook, this stunning South Korean thriller's filmmaker. The director of Oldboy, Thirst, Stoker and The Handmaiden doesn't, surely. Still, his exceptional body of on-screen work glows when either fills its frames — which, in a career that also spans Joint Security Area, Sympathy for Mr Vengeance, Lady Vengeance and English-language TV miniseries The Little Drummer Girl, among other titles, is often. To be more accurate, perhaps Park needs to survey the grey areas that loiter around death and brutality, and surround love, lust, loss, and all matters of the brain, body and heart that bind humans together, to find cinematic fulfilment. Certainly, audiences should be glad if/that he does. In Decision to Leave, exploring such obsessions, and the entire notions of longing and obsession, brings a staggering, sinuously layered and seductively gorgeous movie to fruition — a film to obsess over if ever there was one. In this year's deserved Cannes Film Festival Best Director-winner, reserved insomniac Hae-joon is fixated from the outset, too: with his police job in Busan, where he works Monday–Friday before returning to Ipo on weekends to his wife (Lee Jung-hyun, Peninsula). That all-consuming focus sees his weekday walls plastered with grim photos from cases, and haunts the time he's meant to be spending — and having sex — with said spouse. Nonetheless, the latest dead body thrust his way isn't supposed to amplify his obsession. A businessman and experienced climber is found at the base of a mountain, and to most other cops the answer would be simple. It is to his offsider Soo-wan (Go Kyung-Pyo, Private Lives), but Hae-joon's interest is piqued when the deceased's enigmatic Chinese widow, the cool, calm but also bruised and scratched Seo-rae (Tang Wei, The Whistleblower), is brought in for questioning amid apologising for her imperfect Korean-language skills. In the precinct interrogation room, the detective and his potential suspect share a sushi dinner — and, in the lingering looks gazed each other's way even at this early stage, this may as well be a twisted first date. Hae-joon then surveils Seo-rae, including at her work caring for the elderly, which also provides her alibi. He keeps watching her at home, where her evenings involve television and ice cream. In stirring scenes of bravura and beauty, he envisages himself with her in the process, longing for the illusion he's building in his sleep-deprived mind. As for Seo-rae, she keeps stoking their chemistry, especially when she's somehow being both direct and evasive with her responses to his queries. She knows how small gestures leave an imprint, and she also knows when she and Hae-joon are both desperately hooked on each other. Every intelligently written (by Park and frequent co-scribe Chung Seo-kyung), evocatively shot (by cinematographer Kim Ji-Yong, Ashfall) moment in Decision to Leave is crucial; the film is made so meticulously, with a precision its protagonist would instantly admire, that cutting out even a second is unthinkable. Equally, every scene speaks volumes about this spellbinding movie — but here's three that help convey its simmering potency. In one, Hae-joon ascends up the victim's last cliff by rope, tied to Soo-wan, Busan looming in the background. In another, detailed blue-green wallpaper filled with mountains surrounds Seo-rae. And in yet another, she reaches into Hae-joon's pocket to grab his lip balm, then applies it to his mouth. Perspective is everything in this feature, Park stresses. Minutiae is everything, too. Intimacy is more than everything, actually, in a picture that's also grippingly, electrifying sensual. A police detective drawn to a possible murderer, a woman unable to let the married subject of her own infatuation go: if Decision to Leave was made in English in the 80s, it'd star Michael Douglas. With its tumbling fall, rock faces, thin line between observation and desire, midway twists, and mix of romance and noir, if it had been crafted even earlier back, it'd be an Alfred Hitchcock film. Basic Instinct, Fatal Attraction or Vertigo but South Korean, Park's pining, aching new jewel isn't, though. Exquisitely intricate aesthetically, emotionally, psychologically and thematically, it's one of the director's absolute best. He's never needed a hammer or live octopus to make a splash, either, even if it worked so strikingly with Oldboy nearly two decades ago; here, for example, a literal fish-eye lens is astounding. With every breathtaking visual composition and choice, including against cliffs and seas aplenty, Park keeps besting and challenging himself, and also utterly wowing his viewers. Already picked as South Korea's entry for the Best International Feature Film award at 2023's Oscars — a gong the country last won in 2020 with Parasite — Decision to Leave is as spectacular as it is sophisticated. It's an ambitious sight to behold, no matter which stylistic tricks it's pulling and deep-seated secrets it's spilling in tandem — and also as tender as it is melancholy, a swirling, yearning mood that the use of Jung Hoon Hee's 'Mist' on the soundtrack only cements. The film's core duo is deployed just as devastatingly well, so much so that it's impossible to imagine any other actors inhabiting the parts. Both Park Hae-il and Tang Wei have dazzled elsewhere, him in Bong Joon Ho's Memories of Murder and The Host, her in Ang Lee's Lust, Caution, but they're as sublime as actors can be as wearied, troubled souls bouncing towards and repelling away from each other like revolving magnets. Formidable, revelatory and bold, too, are Decision to Leave's versions of two noir staples: complicated cops and femme fatales. That duo is virtually synonymous with the genre, so much so that Park wants viewers to believe that they already know all they need about Hae-joon and Seo-rae going in — only to keep unpacking them, their motivations and their feelings, as the pair unpack each other. How exhilarating, intoxicating and all-consuming that experience is, for the movie's characters and for its audience. How powerfully it ripples and resonates. How phenomenal an addition to South Korea's national filmography, and to Park's, Decision to Leave proves. Deciding that you never want it to leave your memory is a given.
UPDATE, November 11, 2022: Fire of Love is available to stream via Disney+. Spewing fire is so hot right now, and literally always — and dragons aren't the only ones doing it. House of the Dragon and Blaze can have their flame-breathing creatures, and Fire of Love can have something that also seems fantastical but is one of the earth's raging wonders. The mix of awe, astonishment, adoration, fear, fascination and unflinching existential terror that volcanoes inspire is this documentary's playground. It was Katia and Maurice Krafft's daily mood, including before they met, became red beanie-wearing volcanologists, built a life chasing eruptions — The Life Volcanic, you could dub it — and devoted themselves to studying lava-spurting ruptures in the planet's crust. Any great doco on a topic such as this, and with subjects like these, should make viewers experience the same thrills, spills, joys and worries, and that's a radiant feat this Sundance award-winner easily achieves. What a delight it would be to trawl through the Kraffts' archives, sift through every video featuring the French duo and their work, and witness them doing their highly risky jobs against spectacular surroundings for hours, days and more. That's the task filmmaker Sara Dosa (The Seer and the Unseen) took up to make this superb film. This isn't the only such doco — legendary German director Werner Herzog has made his own, called The Fire Within: A Requiem for Katia and Maurice Krafft, after featuring the couple in 2016's Into the Inferno — but Fire of Love is a glorious, sensitive, entrancing and affecting ode to two remarkable people and their love, passion and impact. While history already dictates how the pair's tale ends, together and exactly as it seemed fated to, retracing their steps and celebrating their importance will never stop sparking new pleasures. For newcomers to the Kraffts, their lives comprised quite the adventure — one with two volcano-obsessed souls who instantly felt like they were destined to meet, bonded over a mutual love of Mount Etna, then dedicated their days afterwards to understanding the natural geological formations that filled their dreams. Early in their time together, the couple gravitated to what they called 'red volcanoes', with their enticing scarlet-hued lava flows. What a phenomenon to explore when romance beats in the air, and when geochemist Katia and geologist Maurice are beginning their life together. From there, however, they moved to analysing what they named 'grey volcanoes'. Those don't visually encapsulate the pair's relationship; they're the craggy peaks that produce masses of ash when they erupt — Iceland's Eyjafjallajokull, for instance — and often a body count. As narrated by actor and Kajillionaire filmmaker Miranda July, Fire of Love starts with blazing infatuation and devotion — between the Kraffts for each other, and for their field of interest — then establishes their legacy. Both aspects could fuel their own movies, and both linger and haunt in their own ways. And, as magnificent as this incredibly thoughtful, informative and stirring documentary is, it makes you wonder what a sci-fi flick made from the same footage would look like. The 16-millimetre imagery captured during the Kraffts' research trips around the globe, whittled down here from 200 hours to fill just 98 minutes, puts even the most state-of-the-art special effects in a different realm. Pixels can be used to paint gorgeous sights, and cinema has no shortage of movies that shimmer with that exact truth, but there really is no substitute for reality. During Fire of Love's first half, those easy visions of science fiction just keep flickering; if someone else had Dosa's access, and had July employ her dreamy voice to spin an otherworldly narrative, movie magic would likely explode. There's a particular sequence that cements that idea, set to the also-ethereal sounds of Air — layering French icons upon French icons — and featuring the Kraffts walking around against red lava in their futuristic-looking protective silver suits. They wander, they risk their lives, and pure actuality beams back. It's nothing short of extraordinary, as well as enchanting. Fittingly, the film's entire score springs from Air's Nicolas Godin, and it couldn't better set the mood; that said, these visuals and this story would prove enrapturing if nary a sound was heard, let alone a note or a word. Other segments ripple with sheer incredulity — not the several riffs on Katia and Maurice's meet-cute, though, or how he worked the publicity angles to fund their work while she pumped out their books. (In a doco stitched together from archival materials rather than contemporary talking-head interviews, those past TV chats come in handy, too). When Maurice and one of the duo's offsiders decide chalk up the first-ever sailing trip across a lake of sulphuric acid in just a rubber dinghy, floating around the crater of Java's Ijen, jaws can only drop. The footage is breathtaking, and more petrifying than any horror flick. That Katia refused to hop onto the raft also helps spell out the pair's differences. No chemist would trust their life to a bath of acid, yet the geologists are willing to take the chance. Fire of Love falls head over heels for the Kraffts' similarities and mutual fixations, but Dosa, her co-writers/editors Erin Casper (The Vow) and Jocelyne Chaput (Fractured Land), plus producer/fellow co-scribe Shane Boris (Stray), also see where they went their own ways. When Fire of Love focuses on the Kraffts' groundbreaking observations, it's even more astounding. The film covers the crucial life-or-death impact of their work on grey volcanoes, after attempting to educate towns and cities in the vicinity of such masses — so they could react appropriately and in a timely manner to avoid casualties — became a key part of their mission. Spying the fallout when the couple's warnings about potential fatalities went unheeded, including their cautions about deadly mudslides, is simply heartbreaking. Witnessing how one pyroclastic flow from Japan's Mount Unzen in 1991 forever ended the Kraffts' own narratives, albeit not for the same reason, is just as moving. What an existence Katia and Maurice shared — and what a stunningly compiled and edited tribute this is to them, the rock they called home as we all do, the land features they adored, the ash and fire those volcanoes expel into the sky, and the fragility of life, love and, well, everything.
Remember the name Rasmus King. Based on 2022's slate of Australian films and television shows, that shouldn't be hard. The Byron Bay-born newcomer hadn't graced a screen, large or small, before this year — and now he has no fewer than four projects pushing him into the spotlight before 2023 arrives. Most, including surfing TV drama Barons, capitalise upon the fact that he's a pro on the waves IRL. Two, 6 Festivals and the upcoming sci-fi featurette What If The Future Never Happened?, get his long blonde locks whipping through the Australian music scene. The latter is based on Daniel Johns' teenage years, actually, and has King playing that pivotal part. If he's half as impressive in the role as he is in father-son drama Bosch & Rockit, Silverchair fans will have plenty to look to forward to. When writer/director Tyler Atkins opens his debut feature, it's in the late 90s, along Australia's east coast, and with King as eager surfer Rockit — son to weed farmer Bosch (Luke Hemsworth, Westworld). Sometimes, the titular pair hit the surf together, which sees Rockit's eyes light up; however, Bosch is usually happy tending to his illicit business, making questionable decisions, and coping with splitting from his son's mother Elizabeth (Leeanna Walsman, Eden) with the help of other women. Then a couple of unfortunate twists of fate upend Rockit's existence, all stemming from his father. Begrudgingly, Bosch is pushed into stepping outside his drug-growing comfort zone by an old friend-turned-cop (Michael Sheasby, The Nightingale) and his corrupt partner (Martin Sacks, Buckley's Chance). When a bushfire sweeps through the region shortly afterwards, he's forced to go on the run to stay alive. Bosch & Rockit approaches Bosch's absconding from Rockit's perspective, adopting the line that the former gives his boy: that they're going to Byron for an extended holiday. Atkins doesn't feed the same idea to its audience, but ensures that viewers understand why a bright-eyed teenager would take his dad at his word — not just because he doesn't know what Bosch does for a living, which he doesn't; or he's naïve, which he is; but also because he's eager to hang onto his biggest dream. There's sorrow in King's spirited performance, with Rockit more affected by his parents' split, bullying at school and the isolation that comes with finding solace in the sea, usually alone, than Bosch has the shrewdness to spot. There's earnestness as well, because what struggling kid who's desperate for the kind of love that genuine attention signifies, as Rockit visibly is, won't blindly believe whatever fantasy their dad or mum sells them for as long as possible? King does a magnetic job of conveying Rockit's inner turmoil, and expressing his uncertainty, too. There's an effortlessness to his portrayal, whether Rockit is lapping up Bosch's presence like a plant swaying towards the sunlight, listlessly left to his own devices when his dad decides he'd rather chase Byron local Deb (Isabel Lucas, That's Not Me), or finding a kindred spirit in Ash (Savannah La Rain, Surviving Summer), another restless and yearning teen vacationing under less-than-ideal circumstances and feeling like she's alone in the world. Avoiding formulaic plotting isn't Bosch & Rockit's strong suit, however, as the film makes plain at every turn. That's evident in both of its namesakes' trajectories, for starters — with Bosch a small-time crim falling afoul of the wrong people, with help from bad luck, then trying to start anew; and Rockit an innocent kid stuck with subpar parents, forced to grow up faster than he should, but hanging onto whatever he can. When a wave tumbles over a surfer's head, crashing towards the shore, it's both a new revelation and a routine occurrence every single time — and, as well as showing that sight whenever Rockit takes to the ocean, aka frequently, that's also how Bosch & Rockit feels. The depths in its two central performances, Hemsworth's included, can't completely sweep aside the film's well-worn storyline, but the feature's sincerity goes a long way. A movie can be sentimental and still ring true, too, which this repeatedly does. Knowing that you're having your heartstrings pulled isn't just blatant, but almost instantaneous, and yet this tender tale is still easy to drift along with. While King proves Bosch & Rockit's biggest asset, Hemsworth's impact can't be underestimated — and shows why he has never just been "the other Hemsworth". Like his brothers, his early career weaved through local soaps (Neighbours in his case, which Chris and Liam also popped up on), plus other Aussie TV series (including Blue Heelers, All Saints and Tangle). As his siblings are, he's now best-known for his overseas success, with Westworld forever altering his resume as the Thor franchise has for Chris and The Hunger Games did for Liam. Here, there's a weight and texture to Luke's empathetic work as the well-meaning, perennially hapless Bosch that ranks it among his best, and is crucial to the film. Atkins also ensures that his audience understands why Rockit wants to be with his charismatic yet careening dad, even when he does know better. Indeed, scenes where Hemsworth and King banter, whether slinging the most Aussie curse-filled exchanges each other's way or bickering in public, are among Bosch & Rockit's standouts. It's lucky that its key duo bring so much to their portrayals; elsewhere, Bosch & Rockit is undeniably scenic, but never surprising. Often, Ben Nott's (How to Please a Woman) cinematography looks like a postcard — especially when the picture lingers on the obvious shots, such as the famous Cape Byron Lighthouse, or loiters on dolphins and whales while its characters frolic along the coast. Of course, those pieces of card sent from holiday spots usually come bearing heartfelt statements behind the eye-catching gloss, a trait that Bosch & Rockit also shares. Little about growing up is simple, nothing about parenting is, and love and hope can't help anyone escape either reality — all notions that resonate from this straightforward, always-familiar but also evocative film.
Between Thursday, September 8–Wednesday, September 14, Palace Cinemas is giving movie buffs in Melbourne an extra present. It's not just the gift of great flicks — that is, their daily bread and butter — but the gift of cheap great flicks. Head to the chain's Balwyn, Brighton, Brighton Bay, Como, Westgarth, Pentridge and Kino venues across the week in question, and any film at any time will only cost you a fiver. Haven't yet seen Top Gun: Maverick, Bullet Train or Elvis? Catching up will cost you $5. Keen to check out Nope, The Black Phone, Three Thousand Years of Longing, Good Luck to You, Leo Grande, Where the Crawdads Sing and Full Time? Also $5. We'd keep naming movies, but you get the picture. Booking in advance is highly recommended, given how much everyone loves going to the flicks for little more than the price of a cup of coffee. If you do nab your tickets online, you will have to add a transaction fee to the cost. You won't be able to use the $5 deal on special events and film festivals, or on two-for-one offers and other deals — and it's a Melbourne-only special — but you've now got plenty of movies to see for cheap.
Everyone could use a dose of big-screen escapism every now and then, whether you're an avid movie buff all-year-round, a casual cinemagoer or can't remember the last time you caught a flick at the pictures. That's on offer every day of the week at the Classic, Lido and Cameo cinemas, of course, but between Thursday, September 8–Wednesday, September 14 it'll only cost you $5. Yes, that's a mighty cheap price for a trip to the movies, and it means that you can even treat your bestie, date or mum to a flick and pay just ten dollars for both of you. Some of the films you'll be able to catch during the week include a few of the biggest titles around at the moment — such as Jordan Peele's creepy and clever Nope, Brad Pitt-starring action onslaught Bullet Train and the breathtaking Top Gun: Maverick (in case you haven't seen them yet). Also showing: Baz Lurhmann's stunning Elvis; Emma Thompson-starring sex comedy Good Luck To You, Leo Grande; big-screen must-see documentary Fire of Love, about a couple of volcanologists; and George Miller's Three Thousand Years of Longing. Yes, the list goes on. The $5 tickets are available at all regular sessions across the seven days — other than sneak previews, advance screenings, special events and retro films — and bookings open from Monday, September 5. To book your $5 tickets, just head to the Classic, Lido and Cameo cinema websites. And if you fancy becoming a member at the cinemas, that'll only cost you $1 across the seven days as well.
Last year's The Old Man and the Gun and Clint Eastwood's new film The Mule share three things in common. First, they both star Hollywood octogenarian greats Robert Redford (82) and Eastwood (88). Second, they're both based on real life stories of unlikely elderly criminals and the men who pursued them. Thirdly, they share a pronounced nostalgia for civility; a yearning for a bygone era where nothing, not even law-breaking, should come at the cost of common decency. But where Redford's film maintained a light and tender tone throughout, Eastwood's latest lacks consistency, veering from awkward cynicism to thin familial sentimentality. As a vehicle for Eastwood's first on-screen role in six years, The Mule seems perfect. Written by Nick Schenk, who previously worked alongside Eastwood on Gran Torino, the film tells the fascinating true tale of Leo Sharp (named Earl Stone here), a 90 year-old WWII veteran and award-winning horticulturalist who became a big-time drug runner for a Mexican cartel after his own business ran into financial trouble. Stone is grizzled, bitter, grumpy and a little bit racist. In short, Eastwood embodies the look and feel of the man immediately. When Stone agrees to run a package across the country, no questions asked, he reveals himself to be the perfect mule for Andy Garcia's cartel, and as his illicit load increases with each new run, so too does his reward. Accompanied throughout by cartel minders, the setup is perfect for a black comedy. But whilst there are a few terrific moments (a carpool karaoke version of 'Ain't That A Kick In The Head' being the best), too much of the film falls flat, lacking the full lighthearted touch but at the same time failing to follow the darker path it also could have taken. In supporting roles, Eastwood brings back some of his recent regulars, including Bradley Cooper and Michael Pêna as the DEA agents charged with tracking Stone down and bringing him to justice. As with The Old Man and the Gun, it takes some time to dawn on the authorities that they're pursuing a man in his 80s – which of course was precisely why the Cartel went that direction in the beginning. Eastwood has always been impressive in his embracing of ageing, even tabling Unforgiven for over a decade until he felt he was old enough to do the role justice. Here in The Mule, though, the age card offers so many tantalising possibilities for the story, yet is used far too sparingly and too easily, resorting to mostly tired tropes like technological dyslexia (wait, how do you text again?). Moreover, while Stone is a remorseful man insofar as his troubled family history goes, he shows none for his part in supporting a violent and brutal cartel (at least not until the film's final stages). The end result is a film that looks great (it's Eastwood in the chair, after all), but feels like a middle child of genre; funny but not a comedy, dark but not a thriller, on the road but not a road movie and moving but not fully a drama. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N_QksSzK7sI
Back at work and feeling the post-festival season blues? We've got the cure with the return of By The Meadow to regional Victoria for its sixth edition of wild music. The three-day music festival returns to the hills of Bambra, 90 minutes southwest of Melbourne, from March 29 to 31. Hit the dance floor to a lineup of soul, funk and disco, with headliners including blues and garage band The Murlocs, American indie rock artist Lucy Dacus — in her Aussie debut — indie pop trio The Goon Sax and Melbourne funk DJ Harvey Sutherland. As the festival goes for just over 24 hours, you'll be able to settle in and enjoy the tunes then spend the night camping (or glamping) under the stars. Much needed festival fodder will be available in the form of food stalls from local restaurateurs, with plenty of vegan and vegetarian options, too. To drink, there'll be craft beers from Salt Brewing and wines from across the vineyards of the Otway Hinterlands. Or, you can BYO — just make sure you adhere to the festival's booze limits (around 18 cans of beer, or 12 RTDs). So pack your camping gear and get ready for a weekend of music in the wilderness.
With its latest movie-fuelled event, Underground Cinema is hoping that you've never felt like this before — and that you love Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey dancing up a storm in a much-loved 1987 romantic drama. As part of the outfit's new Immersive Cinema spin-off, it's promising to plunge cinephiles into the world of Dirty Dancing. And give you the time of your life, presumably. Hitting Flemington Racecourse for three nights in March 2019, Dirty Dancing: The Immersive Cinema Experience won't just screen one of Swayze's biggest film roles, but will recreate the world of the popular film. That means that attendees will travel back to 1963 in spirit, check into Kellerman's Mountain House in the Catskills, and enjoy a day of painting classes, volleyball, croquet and — of course — dance lessons. You can probably also expect a stint of carrying watermelons, as well as a talent show. It all ends with a sunset screening of Dirty Dancing on the big screen. You'd be just a fool to believe that's all that's on the agenda. Actors and dancers will roam around like the wind, and, food and drink-wise, Americana-style eats and several pop-up bars slinging summery cocktails are on offer for those with hungry eyes (and stomachs). You'll also be able to wander through recreations of Kellerman's famous fictional spaces, from the staff quarters where Francis 'Baby' Houseman gets her first taste of dirty dancing, to the studios where she learns all the steps from and starts swooning over Johnny Castle, to the restaurant where nobody puts Baby in a corner. Like the film version of Kellerman's, the event is also an all-ages affair — Underground Cinema's first that'll welcome families and kids along. And everyone is encouraged to dress up like it's the 60s, although appropriate footwear for dancing is a must. Tickets are available in two tiers, with the $89.90 'Kellerman's Guest Experience' giving you access to all of the above, and the $129.90 'Time of My Life Package' (naturally) also letting you sashay in via express entry, nab a premium elevated viewing spot, explore secret spaces and take a group dance class with one of Kellerman's dance instructors.
Windsor's Singapore-inspired Hawker Hall is celebrating Chinese New Year with the return of its weekend yum cha sessions. Every Saturday and Sunday in February, diners can feast on a whole six courses of dim sum for just $38 per person. As yum cha is traditionally a breakfast or early lunch meal, the deal is available from 11am–4pm each day. You can choose six dishes from the many bamboo steamer baskets on offer — think the requisite barbecue pork buns, spring rolls and fried rice, plus five-spiced chicken ribs, shiitake mushroom mapo tofu, fried squid and seafood-stuffed Chinese doughnuts with plenty of chilli oil. Apart from the eats, the venue is slinging four cocktails ($12 each) that have been designed to drink aside dim sum. There's the Enter The Dragon — a tropical concoction of tequila, pineapple, lime, guava and mint — as well as The Green Lantern, with jasmine-infused vodka mixed with peach, lemon and cucumber. Since it's yum cha, the courses will, of course, be on the smaller side, but the price is hard to beat regardless. Hawker Hall's yum cha runs from 11am–4pm. You can book your spot via the website.
Four years ago, legendary Rock and Roll Hall of Famers Fleetwood Mac toured Australia with Christine McVie, who'd just rejoined the band after a 16-year absence. This year, when the British-American group tours the country, the lineup will look a little different. Mick Fleetwood, Stevie Nicks, John McVie and Christine McVie will be joined on stage in August by Crowded House frontman Neil Finn and Mike Campbell, from Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, with Lindsey Buckingham controversially axed from the band early last year. Despite the switch-up — it's not the band's first personnel change, and probably won't be its last — the band will be performing all its biggest hits, from 'Dreams' to 'The Chain' and 'Go Your Own Way'. The six will visit both the west and east coast, with four shows over two weeks at Melbourne's Rod Laver Arena on September 2, 4, 7 and 9. Fleetwood Mac is one of the world's best-selling bands, selling in excess of 100 million albums worldwide, with the album Rumours one of the best-selling of all time. The band's Aussie tour follows its 50-show tour of the US.
Making a powerhouse acting debut, Zain Al Rafeea carries the entire weight of Capharnaüm on his slender shoulders. Playing a young Lebanese boy also named Zain, the untrained talent puts in a raw, soulful performance that nearly bursts off of the screen, all while capturing a truth that is rarely uttered. With a weary expression where an impish smile should be, he conveys the toll of simply existing, a burden that nobody initially asks for. Indeed, when Zain is introduced in court, suing his parents for bringing him into a life of relentless hardship, Al Rafeea's exasperated face alone sells the character's existential angst. While Zain's unconventional lawsuit provides Capharnaüm's entry point, writer-director Nadine Labaki (Where Do We Go Now?) is quick to explore the basis for the 12-year-old's legal challenge. In his dismal Beirut home environment, his parents (Kawthar Al Haddad and Fadi Kamel Youssef) make him work to support the family, his baby sibling is kept in chains, and he witnesses his beloved younger sister (Cedra Izam) sold into marriage for a few chickens. More than that, his birth was never registered, so he can't get the necessary identifying paperwork to attend school or to even prove that he exists. Running away, he's soon caught in another difficult domestic situation — taken in by kindly Ethiopian immigrant Rahil (Yordanos Shiferaw), he cares for her infant son (Boluwatife Treasure Bankole) while she works, but is left stranded when she suddenly doesn't return. Scripting the film with four co-writers, Labaki puts the despairing yet resourceful Zain through even further misery — the type that'd be badged 'poverty porn' if it wasn't drawn from reality and told with such empathy. Those traits prove Capharnaüm's main strengths, aside from the highly sensitive work by the movie's non-professional actors. Much of the cast, including the mesmerising Al Rafeea and captivating toddler Bankole, have lived lives that hew much too close to the events seen on screen, while Labaki's commitment to bringing their plights to light shines through in her narrative. Ranging beyond the feel-good charm of Slumdog Millionaire and the tender reunion of Lion, Capharnaüm actively wants viewers not just to engage with its bleak story, but with the truth behind it. From crumbling shanties to overcrowded juvenile jails, this is a fictional tale wrought from the toughest type of real-life pain, and it's designed to feel that way from start to finish. The key word there is feel. Labaki wants audiences to be moved by her gritty, warts-and-all portrait — and given everything that Zain experiences, that's exactly what happens. Alas, although the actor-turned-filmmaker clearly recognises the potency of her material, she doesn't seem to trust it to get the job done alone. Every stylistic decision, from the lingering camerawork to the button-pushing score (by her husband and producer Khaled Mouzanar) to the lurching narrative structure, is calculated to poke and prod viewers. Every choice cajoles those watching not just to react with sympathy, but to respond harder and deeper, eventually to the point of overkill. There's a difference between stressing the point in an earnest and affecting way, wallowing gracefully to truly communicate the enormity of a character's struggle, and hitting people over the head. Bluntly bludgeon someone for long enough, and they might just stop feeling anything. As a result, even with a Cannes jury prize and an Academy Award nomination to its name, Carpharnaüm can't overcome its obvious contradictions. It knows that it's spinning a worthy tale, but isn't confident that anyone will care about the gruelling minutiae without applying force. It possesses two of the most authentic, endearing child performances committed to celluloid in recent times — on par with its thematic sibling, The Florida Project — and yet packages their naturalistic work with overtly manipulative storytelling. It argues that unthinkingly birthing kids into a downtrodden life is a heinous crime, while also championing a boy whose engaging persona and enduring resilience was forged through weathering immense difficulties. Although it's impossible to ignore these clashes, when Al Rafeea lights up the screen, he'll make you wish otherwise. Stirring but never self-assured enough to be subtle, Capharnaüm is a heartbreaking movie that stops well short of being a heartbreaking masterpiece. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JBecbs52Fpo
Gauchito Gil is Argentina's Robin Hood. As such, it seems fitting that Australia's own Malbec Day has been borrowed from the South American country, where the majority of the world's malbec comes from. If this day is a donation from the grape god, it's one we're happy to accept. After a successful six years, Gauchito Gil is once again bringing Malbec Day to Melbourne with a five-hour wine bonanza at North Melbourne's Meat Market on Saturday, April 13. The event comes from the organisers of the Pinot Palooza and Mould cheese festival, and mirrors the free-reign tasting set up. Your $60 ticket includes a wine glass, and from there you'll be able to move around, sampling over 60 Australian, French and Argentinian malbec varietals. Other events have been known to get a little boozy, so to soak up all that wine there will be top-notch empanadas from five local restaurateurs — who'll be vying for the prestigious Golden Empanada award. It really doesn't matter if you know everything there is about malbec or if you don't know much at all, because Malbec Day is about education and celebration of the Argentine grape. And what better way to celebrate than with an bottomless glass of wine?
Every year, runners from all over Victoria limber up for the Bendigo Bank Fun Run, a fundraiser for Bendigo Hospital. The event is split into a five-kilometre walk or run, or a ten-kilometre, 15-kilometre or half-marathon run. So, whether you're a pro who barely breaks a sweat or you can't stand running and would prefer to stroll at a leisurely pace, there's an event for you. There will also be dedicated colour stations positioned along the track to add a little more excitement to the festivities. All you have to do is register online — as either an individual or team — and then start training. All entrants who make it across the finish line will score a medallion and a free brekkie loaded with healthy goodness courtesy of The Spotless.
UPDATE, September 14, 2020: Custody is available to stream via SBS On Demand, Google Play, YouTube Movies and iTunes. If Kramer vs. Kramer met The Shining, it would look like Custody. That's filmmaker Xavier Legrand's own description of his bleak and tough domestic thriller, and it's one that firmly fits. The French writer-director initially styles his debut movie as a social realist drama, following a divorcing couple fighting over their 11-year-old son. But as courtroom arguments give way to the family's daily reality, Custody understands the devastating terror that comes from living in fear. As strained civility is replaced by deep-seeded turmoil, the film turns the trauma of a dissolving marriage and the accompanying fallout into an unwavering portrait of horror. Everyone in Custody is afraid of something and, crucially, they know it. Anxiety overwhelms the movie, with Legrand mirroring the Besson family's shattered nerves in the film's relentless mood. Miriam (Léa Drucker) is clearly frightened of her husband Antoine (Denis Ménochet), who she has left suddenly with their two children in tow. The duo's pre-teen son Julien (Thomas Gioria) and nearly 18-year-old daughter Joséphine (Mathilde Auneveux) share her concern, although Julien is also worried that he can't protect his mother from his father. An imposing figure even when he's attempting to be calm, Antoine can't face the lack of control and power that comes with his new situation. Panicked anguish and agitation radiates from his pores, gaze and stance, turning every gesture into an act of hostility. After spending its first 15 minutes scrutinising Miriam and Antoine's court battle — she claims that he's violent, he says that she has turned their kids against him — Custody charts the aftermath of the judge's decision. Julien must stay with Antoine on alternating weekends, but the boy visibly doesn't want to go. Dread and distress build with each scene, as Julien tries to stay composed while Antoine's thin facade of restraint just keeps cracking. Every moment is weaponised, be it a hug where Julien remains blank-faced and limp, a tussle over the kid's mobile phone, Antoine's bullying determination to find out where Miriam and the children are living, or the man's overbearing behaviour when he arrives unannounced on more than one occasion. Following the same characters first seen in his Oscar-nominated short Just Before Losing Everything, Legrand canvasses the whole family's reactions and perspectives — but Julien remains the film's quivering heart. In a masterstroke of casting, first-time actor Gioria conveys the internalised pain and stress of being literally caught in the middle of a parental tug-of-war. More than that, even when he's keeping silent, he shows how terror shapes Julien's entire existence. As a result, the boy's time with Ménochet is impossible to look away from, even though it's crafted to evoke maximum discomfort. Meanwhile, the disarmingly naturalistic Ménochet never plays Antoine as a simplistic villain, although he's always a threat. Legrand purposefully cast someone who physically fills the frame, and constantly uses the hulking talent to push his other stars to the edge of the image. Indeed, it's Legrand's visual approach — particularly in his depiction of his menacing antagonist — that speaks to his film's true brilliance. The director doesn't merely want to tell a brutal tale about divorce, fear and violence. He doesn't just want his actors to express their characters' complex emotions with each breath and blink, either. And he doesn't simply want to chronicle the destruction that springs from domestic abuse, although that's one of his aims. Rather, the filmmaker is intent on trapping viewers in this incredibly fraught scenario with his protagonists, and using every means at his disposal to make the audience feel that same all-encompassing horror. Sometimes, that means shooting a scene from ground level, solely focusing on feet beneath a toilet stall. At one point, Legrand lets a rare musical moment — one that should be a celebration — swell with almost-unbearable tension. Over and over again, in his placement of the camera, he makes every composition bristle with claustrophobia. Rhythmically, as things in the narrative get increasingly out of hand, his fast and abrupt takes grow looser and longer, but no less urgent. Legrand won the best director award at the 2017 Venice Film Festival for his efforts, and it's easy to see why. Every meticulous move he makes in Custody is heartbreakingly effective, in a film that's already downright heartbreaking. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A8mJT7wEtkA
If you've been struggling to defeat the winter blues, here's a little helping hand. And it won't cost you a cent. From October until the mid-November, Serotonin Eatery — an eatery and exercise centre in Burnley — is offering free exercise classes twice a week, every week. Head along to Serotonin Eatery at 7am on a Wednesday or Thursday (or both) and get ready to move your body. The 60-minute workout involved stretching, cardio and strength work and is suitable for all levels of fitness. All you need are runners and a water bottle. While you're at it, you can score a complimentary session with Serotonin's nutritionist, who'll discuss how your eating patterns could be affecting your mood. If you've time to spare afterwards, hang around for a healthy brekkie. There'll be 20 free classes all in all. Should you make it to every single one, you could save yourself $2400 in fees you'd otherwise be paying. Online registration, which you can do over here, is essential. Serotonin's free exercise classes kick off on Wednesday, October, 10 and wrap-up on Thursday, December 13.
Melbourne is known for its fine food experiences. Usually that just means eating a lot of things you would never be able to make yourself. But, on the rare occasion, we get to peek behind the culinary curtain and learn some tricks of the trade. Joining these ranks is Moro. The olive oil purveyor is launching a series of masterclasses to elevate your appreciation of the humble pantry staple. It's partnering with three top eateries — Trattoria Emilia, Epocha and Simply Spanish — to highlight the versatility of olive oil in multiple cuisines. Each class will kick off with an industry expert taking you through how to identify the characteristics of olive oil and how to prep dishes in the right way to enhance the flavour. Next, the restaurant chefs will hold a live Q&A session as they cook up authentic meals — think pasta made from scratch at Trattoria Emilia and tapas and paella at Simply Spanish. And then the fun part: you get to enjoy those dishes with matching wine. The Moro Masterclass series will run across three separate sessions. Trattoria Emilia is up first on Saturday, October 20 followed by Epocha on Thursday, October 25 and Simply Spanish on Saturday, November 3. For more details and to purchase tickets, visit the website. Image: Brook James.
February 29 only rolls around once every four years. And while the earth spins around the sun playing catch up, we want to make the most of our last day of summer. To help you do so, Melbourne's luxe boutique hotel, QT Melbourne, is offering 29 percent off all food and drinks at a number of its in-house restaurants and bars for a whole 24 hours. And you don't even have to be a hotel guest to get in on this deal. Soak up the sunshine and sweeping city views on The Rooftop at QT as you snack on tacos, pork rolls and choc tops, all for a fraction of the cost. Or, if you want to spend the end of summer sipping a cocktail, head to QT's lush The Secret Garden Bar, which uses ingredients from its own garden. The Wild Strawberries, described as 'a negroni for those with less beards and tattoos', is a concoction of gin, rosé, freshly picked strawberries and coriander. If you want something more traditional, there's the Rivermint Martini — a twist on the classic— or the sangria-style Garden Punch. [caption id="attachment_763014" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Kate Shanasy[/caption] In the evening, French-inspired bistro Pascale Bar and Grill is also offering 29 percent off everything — from champagne and red wine to oysters, tartare, cacio e pepe and wagyu steaks. Then hit up the cake shop for treats decadent enough for Marie Antoinette herself. You could also use it as an excuse to book in for a last-minute staycation and go to town on the room service. You'll be saving 29 percent on all your wining and dining, after all.
If there's one thing that cinephiles have learned after almost a quarter-century of Wes Anderson films, it's that the director's features look like nothing else on-screen. His love of symmetry is well-known. In fact, you can't miss it. But meticulous detail shines in every element of his movies — especially in the production and costume design. It's evident in the trailer for his latest movie, The French Dispatch. It made a whole heap of fans buy Team Zissou sneakers after The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. And, it's on display in The Royal Tenenbaums and The Grand Budapest Hotel, too — the two films in the spotlight at The Sartorial Splendour of Wes Anderson. For two nights, the Virgin Australia Melbourne Fashion Festival and Cinema Nova are teaming up to fill the latter's big screen with eccentric siblings and eager lobby boys — and the eye-catching outfits they all wear, of course. Catch The Grand Budapest Hotel at 6.30pm on Tuesday, March 10 and The Royal Tenenbaums at the same time on Wednesday, March 11. Each screening will be followed by a panel discussion on their costuming choices as well. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=caMgokYWboU
UPDATE, September 7, 2020: Emma is available to stream via Google Play, YouTube Movies and iTunes. Happiest when she's playing matchmaker, experienced at meddling in the affairs of others and accustomed to a comfortable level of standing in her village, Emma Woodhouse withholds judgement on no one. Since first popping up on the page 205 years ago, Jane Austen's heroine has always been a picture of youthful hubris. Case in point: the 20-year-old member of the upper class wouldn't dream of letting a friend marry a mere farmer. She eventually learns the error of her well-meaning arrogance, of course. That's the journey that Austen's Emma charts, following the titular character's evolution from unthinking snobbishness to genuine compassion. But if the fictional Miss Woodhouse was somehow asked to survey the latest film to tell her story, we're certain that her opinionated tendencies would still shine through. Renowned for eschewing the average and ordinary in the hope of a more romantic option, she'd at least arch an eyebrow at this dutifully faithful, perfectly palatable yet hardly spectacular adaptation. Emma may be stylised on its marketing materials as 'Emma.', as though it's putting a full stop on all big-screen iterations of Austen's novel; however it's unlikely to become the definitive book-to-film version of this tale. That title continues to belong to Clueless, a movie that modernised the details, played fast and loose with certain specifics, and turned Austen's comedy of manners into an even savvier delight than it already was. Devotees of the original text might consider that statement blasphemous, but Emma's musings on love, life, social status and human nature thrived under a bolder spotlight. Indeed, Clueless outshone the more traditional Gwyneth Paltrow-starring adaptation of Austen's novel that came out just a year afterwards, and did so easily. The difference a quarter-century ago, and now as well: Clueless engages with and re-interrogates the narrative and its insights, rather than just reverently recreating it. They all tell the same general story, though. For those who haven't committed the broad strokes to memory alongside Alicia Silverstone's 90s outfits, Austen's tale revolves around Emma (played in this 2020 iteration by Anya Taylor-Joy) and her current matchmaking mission. Her friend Harriet Smith (Mia Goth) receives a marriage proposal from local tenant farmer Robert Martin (Connor Swindells), with whom she's clearly besotted, but Emma is convinced that her pal can, should and must do better. So, she nudges Harriet towards seemingly kindly vicar Philip Elton (Josh O'Connor). As well as earning the disapproval of her neighbour George Knightley (Johnny Flynn), who she treats like a brother, Emma's interference causes significant ripples throughout the village. It doesn't help that the rich, handsome and vain Frank Churchhill (Callum Turner) has just returned to town, and the quietly accomplished Jane Fairfax (Amber Anderson), too — with the former considered a potential match for Emma herself, and the latter the target of her palpable jealousy. Well-heeled chaos ensues — as much chaos that can ensue within stately and sprawling country manors, while compliant, silent servants are always on hand, and amidst polite conversation constantly tinted with gossip (although as Downton Abbey keeps demonstrating, that's plenty). Emma circa 2020 does everything it's supposed to, including using its sumptuous production and costume design to paint a vivid picture of Regency-era England, but it adds little of its own personality. Austen's prose, here shaped into a screenplay by The Luminaries' author Eleanor Catton, still sparkles with wit. Making her feature filmmaking debut, photographer and music video director Autumn de Wilde retains the novel's playful mood, and pairs it with a sweeping sense of visual symmetry that'd do Wes Anderson proud. And yet, this adaptation feels mostly indistinguishable from the many other unchallenging film and TV versions of literary classics that've reached screens over the years. In fact, the end result is fine, but in the passable rather than excellent sense of the word. It can be a strange sensation, watching a movie that hits plenty of marks and still feels just standard, but that's this iteration of Emma. The film's various parts boast a variety of charms, and yet they never manage to leave much of an imprint. The main outlier: The Witch, Split and Glass' Taylor-Joy. There's little in the way of purposeful contemporary parallels in this take on Austen's tale but, in Taylor-Joy's hands, Emma herself seems like she could easily be passing judgement on her peers and their love lives via Instagram. As the overly chatty, far less wealthy Miss Bates, Miranda Hart (Call the Midwife) also stands out, especially when her character becomes the target of Emma's withering comments. But it might be Bill Nighy, playing Mr Woodhouse, that encapsulates the movie best. He's as reliable as ever, trots out all his usual moves, and inspires more than a few laughs and smiles — but you always know exactly what you're in for. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=llt7-EQP6dg
If you've ever had the urge to rummage through someone else's suitcase, here's your chance. Suitcase Rummage is coming back to Melbourne, and luckily for you it'll be less old socks and more vintage treasures. Next happening between 10am–3pm on Saturday, February 15 at the South Melbourne Town Hall — and then again on March 14 — the mini-scale market will bring together numerous trunks that aren't just filled with clothing. The suitcases will contain everything from art to records, shoes and jewellery — so, come and bargain, buy or swap to score that old Joni Mitchell vinyl you've been wanting. [caption id="attachment_760661" align="aligncenter" width="1920"] Suitcase Rummage[/caption] Those who wanting to sell their wares must register — and it'll cost $25 for a 'stall'. You can bring up to three suitcases, so you can lug in all those shoes you've been promising to wear but certainly will not. Top image: Yan Chen via Suitcase Rummage.
It has only been three short years since Call Me By Your Name first hit cinemas; however the yearning romance instantly cemented itself as an all-time great. Adapting André Aciman's novel of the same name, every element of the film hit exactly the right note — including the tender love story, charting a summer dalliance between Elio (Timothée Chalamet) and Oliver (Armie Hammer), as well as director Luca Guadagnino's gorgeous use of the story's Italian Riveria setting. Hammer's awkward dance moves, Michael Stuhlbarg playing the dad everyone wishes they had, the use of peaches — you can remember this heartwrenching movie for any or all of the above. Actually, because there's never a bad time to revisit Call Me By Your Name, you can also re-experience it all again on the big screen on Valentine's Day. The Astor Theatre is doing the honours, kicking off at 7.30pm on Friday, February 14 — and tickets cost $18.50. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z9AYPxH5NTM
The public pool is fun and all, but spending the afternoon throwing down some moves on a giant inflatable water slide? That's how we want to cool down this summer. Luckily, you've got just a few more days left to tick off that little summer bucket-list item, at The District Docklands' supersized pop-up Slip 'n' Slide. Making its home beneath the soaring Melbourne Observation Wheel, the Astroturfed water park will be sticking around to offer some sweet heat relief until Sunday, January 26. The leafy pop-up is decked out with garden games and a water mist zone, though the star of the show is the elevated, 25-metre-long blow-up water slide. This bright yellow monster is free to ride and fitted out with two lanes, so you can even challenge your mates to a few cheeky races. It might be mostly for kids, but as long as you're over the age of four and taller than 110 centimetres, anyone's allowed to have a go. It's open from 11am until 5pm each day.
In response to COVID-19, film festivals around the world have been making the shift to online programs for 2020 — and Australia's fests are no different. Sydney Film Festival is doing just that, as is the Melbourne International Film Festival. Also going virtual: the Human Rights Arts and Film Festival. HRAFF's addition to the digital fold is called Humankind, and it runs between Monday, May 18–Sunday, May 24. Each day, it'll screen a different film online. And yes, while that means that the fest's lineup is quite small, it's also mostly free. Although registering for tickets is still required, six of the seven movies on the program will be made available to viewers without paying a cent. You can opt to donate, though, if you can spare $2, $10 or $50. On the bill: poignant New Zealand drama Whale Rider; documentary No Time for Quiet, about the Girls Rock! camp in Melbourne; and fellow music-focused doco Her Sound, Her Story, which explores the experiences of women in the industry. Or, you can check out environmental documentary Tomorrow, which is co-directed by Inglourious Basterds star Melanie Laurent; Maya Angelou: And Still I Rise, about the African American poet and activist; and Backtrack Boys, which dives into a jackaroo-led youth program. Humankind is also screening excellent Aussie doco In My Blood It Runs, which tells the tale of 10-year-old Northern Territory resident Dujuan — and tickets to watch it online cost $15. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dmahNqD3Dvw&feature=youtu.be
The offering at Balaclava's newest wellness studio Upstate is a supercharged one, with a schedule that runs from reformer pilates to meditation, all the way through to Bikram And you can get a taste of it all for free, when the venue welcomes the public for a jam-packed open house weekend on April 27 and 28. Punters keen to kick-start their post-Easter fitness regime will be able to experience a swag of those classes first-hand, with 22 free sessions happening across the weekend. Start your Saturday with a hot yoga or reformer class, or work up a sweat at a pilates HIIT class. Finish off the weekend with a yin yoga class and sound bath meditation on Sunday night. You'll just need to book in via the website. As well as joining a class or two, you'll get the chance to meet the founders — Lululemon Ambassador Gail Asbell and sister Charelle Cuolahan — and find out more about becoming a member. This is their third studio — the two also run studios in Geelong and Torquay, which will also being doing free classes over the weekend. The studio will also provide post-workout treats and kombucha, and there'll be chances to win activewear and three-month memberships. Images: Ed Sloane Photography.
What starts with a widespread look at how we could radically address climate change using existing technologies, ends with a moving coming-of-age story, and features everything from Aussie rom-coms to documentaries about the country's refugee policies in-between? Thanks to films 2040, Giant Little Ones, Top End Wedding and Stop the Boats, that'd be Melbourne's showcase of human rights-focused movies, art and performances. Yes, the Human Rights Arts and Film Festival returns for another year, running from Thursday, May 9 to Thursday, May 23. Also on the 15-day festival lineup: a showcase of Indigenous short films, a deep dive into child labour and its use in everyday products, the story of a young woman who escaped ISIS and the life of an octogenarian trans woman. Plus, if you'd like to take a look at the biggest global corruption scandal in history, aka the Panama Papers, you can — and the doco is directed by Alex Winter, who is perhaps better known as the William 'Bill' S. Preston, Esq to Keanu Reeves' Theodore 'Ted' Logan in the Bill and Ted movies. As well as screening at the Australian Centre for the Moving Image, Cinema Nova and Lido Cinemas, HRAFF includes an exhibition component at a number of galleries around town. Whether you like your creativity on a canvas or on the big screen, this fest has the answer — and the topical content.
Most people head to Healesville to get a taste of the Yarra Valley's famous wine, but those in the know always make sure to include a stop at the TarraWarra Museum of Art for an arts and culture fix. And throughout the gallery's Open Weekend 2019 showcase on Saturday, March 30 and Sunday, March 31, you'll get to experience all of it and more for free. Welcoming newcomers and locals alike onto its lush grounds, the out-of-town museum will play host to a Makers' Market — featuring the arts and crafts of 25 local designers and creative — and popular Melbourne painter Ash Keating, who'll drop-by to create a colourful 10-metre artwork live. You'll also get free access to the TarraWarra's latest exhibitions by Tracey Moffatt and Katie West, and have a chance to attend free landscape sketching sessions, creative workshops. A selection of food trucks and drinks to enjoy if you forgot to pack to the picnic basket. Open Weekend runs from 11am–5pm each day.
Following an extensive 18 months of consultation and collaboration with the Dja Dja Wurrung community, Bangarang artist Peta Clancy has debuted her latest exhibition, Undercurrent, at Fed Square's Koorie Heritage Trust. Clancy worked closely with the Dja Dja Wurrung community to explore numerous massacre sites and areas of Bendigo and central Victoria that saw extensive frontier violence to create this major series of landscape photographs. To create these large images, Clancy revisited the sites numerous times over a period of months, experiencing them at different times of day and in disparate weather conditions. She has also used a specific cutting and layering technique, which gives the photographs a unique look. More importantly, however, it also serves as a visual motif for the emotional and cultural scars left on the landscape by frontier violence and colonial occupation. Exploring themes of history, memory and place, Undercurrent features eight new works and a 30-metre wallpaper installation, plus a soundscape and audio interviews from the region's Traditional Owners. Images: Christian Capurro.
