"I'm not pessimistic" filmmaker Josh Fox says in his opening line of narration. Just how on earth he can remain so in the face of the devastating realities he uncovers in his debut documentary GasLand is anyone's guess. Having been approached by a natural gas company willing to pay $100,000 to drill on his family's land, Fox started asking around; his questioning taking him on the most surprising and downright outrageous journey across America and into the dark heart of the natural gas industry. The situation really needs to be seen to be believed — and in that vein, GasLand is absolutely required viewing, especially as there are drilling plans here in Australia. But here are a couple of pearlers to get your ire on the rise: the American natural gas industry does not have to abide by environmental legislation including the Clean Water Act or the Safe Drinking Water Act. And considering the process of hydraulic fracturing (or fracking*) used to release underground gas reserves requires a secret concoction of 596 chemicals and millions of litres of water, this is a diabolical state of affairs indeed. GasLand chronicles the damning results: sick families, poisoned wells and flammable tap water. Wielding a banjo and a lyrical sensibility, Fox transforms his documentary into more than a provocative call to arms; this is documentary as poetry. Sure The Rime of the Ancient Mariner is evoked, but with his beautifully subjective camera and measured, poignant narration, Fox proves himself as much an artist as an important and powerful voice that joins the choir of filmmakers daring to declare such inconvenient environmental truths. So how precious is water to you? And even if you're a glass-half-full kind of person, does it count if the water is flammable? Ahead of GasLand's release on November 18, Josh Fox is in Australia for a series of Q&A screenings, so don't miss the opportunity to see this fantastic documentary and talk to the man who demands to protect the water everywhere, especially the drops we drink. *Anyone who has seen Battlestar Galactica will no doubt agree the situation is fracked in both senses of the term. Sydney Q&A screenings: Wednesday 10 November at Palace Verona Thursday 11 November at the Chauvel Friday 12 November at Palace Norton Street https://youtube.com/watch?v=BYEBwbB6xuA
It's almost that time of year again. With our leg of the tour set again at the Sydney College of the Arts (SCA) in Rozelle, Laneway's rolling around the country once more with some of the biggest current independent acts. From Les Savy Fav to Holy Fuck, Foals to Yeasayer and Warpaint to Menomena, it's gonna be amazing. Check out the full lineup. And while you wait for the day to arrive, check out the Feature Album Series to whet your appetite, starting with Warpaint's The Fool. Laneway is sold out, but keep your eyes on the interwebs and you may just get lucky.
Clint Eastwood is getting sentimental in his old age. The laudable director and gritty actor, who only last year seethed, "Get off my lawn," is now all about the group-hug, rugby style. Taking the true story of Nelson Mandela's reunification aspirations for the 1995 Rugby World Cup, Eastwood somehow manages to sit on the sidelines; serving up neither a political thriller nor a sports drama. The premise is intriguing. Based on John Carlin's book Playing with the Enemy, South African screenwriter Anthony Peckham chronicles the story of Nelson Mandela (Morgan Freeman – surely born to play this role), freed from prison after 27 years and rising to the presidency of a divided nation. A potent symbol of this schism is the Springbok rugby team, captained by Francois Pienaar (a beefy Matt Damon); their green and gold jerseys hated by the new 'rainbow nation.' With South Africa hosting the World Cup, Mandela calls on Pienaar to lead his team and with it the nation, to victory, glory and unification. 'Invictus' refers to the poem by William Ernest Henley, which inspired Mandela and translates to the powerful meaning, 'unconquered'. Alas Eastwood hasn't managed to conquer this profound historical moment; instead he seems at pains to tell us how important this is, be it through exhaustive pontificating by Freeman, hokey scenes (such as a black boy refusing to take a Springbok jersey) or spelling it out through an entirely unnecessary song, "Colourblind." And yet, despite being at risk of drowning in sentimental symbolism, Invictus is still worth a look. It's a thought-provoking and at times compelling tribute to an astounding event in South Africa's history. If only Eastwood had been more ambitious with the drama, and more imaginative with the rugby scenes (be prepared to see a lot of scrums). Then again, a scrum is just the kind of aggressive, impassioned and symbolic group hug that Eastwood was after. https://youtube.com/watch?v=Cq19ASZP-Rc
It was a bit of a sad time for funk for a while there. In the noughties cool was poached from the genre by those dastardly New York indie bands - The Strokes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs et al. But wait! Groovers of the world need not fret... There has been a funk resurgence lately – with folks like Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings, Mayer Hawthorne, Amy Winehouse etc. – and it seems Sydney Fest's new Artistic Director Lindy Hume still dons the flares and afro wig sometimes too, as she's programmed a whole bunch of funk/soul/hip hop artists this year. Becks Bar has a lineup heavy with beat driven tunes including Los Angeles 8 piece funk band The Breakestra. These guys play authentic groove laden funk/soul with an emphasis on getting booties to shake. J Rocc (of beat Junkies fame - not the pro wrestler, sorry to disappoint) and our own soul/dub outfit Space Invadas are set to open the proceedings.
Known for their "angular", "clean", "repetitive", "art rock", "experimental noise rock" sound, when I caught My Disco live a few months ago at the Melbourne International Arts Festival (they headlined and sold out the same enormous venue Fischerspooner played the night before), I was pleasantly shocked to hear a bit of... shall we say, cosmic calypso in the air. It sounded totally right, absolutely natural, and the aforementioned sell-out crowd went pretty wild. I'm eagerly anticipating the launch of their new 12" Young which is rumoured to be inspired by their interests in German minimalism. Cosmic Kraut? The traveling tour party of My Disco, Qua and New War pulls up in Sydney this February. Invest now in a ticket, high quality ear plugs (they get loud) and a new stylus for your record player to play their new offering when you get home.
If you’re thinking of naming your latest single after vermin and their plight for fresh produce during the festive season - sorry, it’s taken. With officially the weirdest song title in history (ok maybe second only to Constipation Blues by Screaming Jay Hawkins) Sydney band The Danimals are set to launch their double A-side Hornets nest/Christmas worms quest for fresh apples at Spectrum his month. Founded by South-African born Jonti Danilewitz, The Danimals began as a solo act before attracting gifted artists from the likes of Sherlocks Daughter, Mercy Arms, Phrase and I like Cats, to form a genre defying super band whose tunes “focus on undulating rhythms and the deconstruction of traditional song structures.” Since hopping off a Boeing onto US soil, The Danimals have worked with some exceptional artists weighted in cool-cred, including Mark Ronson, Santigold and Sean Lennon and have been nominated for TED: The Lab winners and SMAC awards. Now the boys are back on home turf and will be joined by Sydney group Fashion Launches/Rocket Launches and other special guests for a “brain exploding, psychedelic live experience” on January 15th. TO WIN A DOUBLE PASS TO SEE DANIMALS EMAIL US AT HELLO@CONCRETEPLAYGROUND.COM.AU
These Byron transplants are the kind of people who give you the shits: classicaly trained musicians who write great songs, are years younger than you, and still manage to be really lovely people who will lend you their guitar amp if you need it. Lots of Sydneysiders who are worth their musical salt are tipping The Jezabels to be one of the next bands that blow up from our pretty harbour city. Completely devoid of irony, their music is built around the mingling of piano and guitar over strong driving rhythms whilst singer Hayley Mary manages to channel bits of Kate Bush and Patti Smith, really wearing her lyrical heart on her young sleeve. They are great live, so why the hell not go and see them with the Sydney upstarts Papa Vs Pretty.
St Jerome's Laneway Festival has a knack of bringing out people we might otherwise miss in our backwater down here in 'Straya, and Wild Beasts definitely fit into that camp with their (ahem) camp, verbose, literary penmanship and sonic approach. Their sound takes from the great pompous artists of pop music; they toe the line of pretensios, only narrowly saving themselves with melodies and rhythms that are both vital and gorgeously simple. With their heavily alliterated and poetic songs like Brave Buoyant Bulging Clairvoyant and Hooting and Howling, you never quite know if they are taking themselves too seriously or taking the piss. The main singer Tom Fleming sounds like a mix of Morrisey and Antony; with one of those voices that people either love or hate. Britain certainly loves them with the Sunday Times calling Two Dancers "one of 2009's indisputable masterpieces". Let's see if 'Straya loves them too.
When Toumani Diabaté was five years old he picked up the Kora (a 21 string hybrid between a harp and a lute) and taught himself to play. His father Sidiki Diabaté was a renowned Kora musician in Mali, and Toumani found that he could educate himself simply by listening. A child prodigy, Toumani was born a Griot (a class of travelling poets, musicians and storytellers who maintain an oral history in various parts of Western Africa), and his music both reflects and extends from this inheritance. Influenced not only by family tradition, Toumani engrossed himself in American soul music, as well as acts such as Jimi Hendrix and those British heaven climbers Led Zeppelin. The combination makes his music one of both gentle sway and energetic flutter, immediate and stimulating - the kind of sound that sooths an impatient ear and seduces the most stubborn of hips. Apart from performing his Grammy nominated album The Mandé Variations at State Theatre, Mr. Diabaté will also stage a free performance with his Symmetric Orchestra on January 16 in The Domain at 8.00PM.
Arts Mobile Sydney is a free love-in at a secret location - kind of like that rave you went to in 1992 except this time you won't get stuck sharing lolly pops with the guy dressed as Sailor Moon who thinks he is Donald Trump hasn't slept for 11 days and has lost his tennis racquet. Because he'll be too busy participating in the live interactive artworks based on office therapy, Chinese whispers, balloon painting or park bench wrapping to even notice you. Setting out to intervene people's daily routines in the CBD and to encourage community participation in contemporary art outside the gallery context, Arts Mobile in mid-January will have ten emerging artists on site inviting passers by "to watch, play, create and take home works of art." Register at www.artsmobilesydney.com to receive the location by text on the day. BYO glow sticks and PLUR. Image: Ascent by Arts Mobile participating artists MamaDada. Photo by Alex Wisser.
"The only thing more terrifying than the last 12 minutes of this film are the first 92", so states the tagline of the Dario Argento film Suspiria, and, unlike the tagline of 2006's Wicker Man remake ("some sacrifices must be made"), it's true. Speaking of sacrificial lambs, Suspiria will be remade in 2010, but please don't shoot the messenger! As Argento demonstrates, there are far more dramatic ways to be killed, and I for one will be at the Chauvel's Argento Festival this February and March to bask in the giallo gory glory. Teaming Argento films with horror classics from the same era is an interesting idea, much more suitable than the double bill I saw aged nine in an outdoor cinema in Illawarra. Turner & Hooch followed by Dead Poet's Society (I laughed, I cried). The beauty of Argento's films isn't just in their sheer bloodiness (see image above); they're beautifully shot, particularly Suspiria and its 70s-does-art-deco production design. Blood! Guts! Witches! Zombies! Udo Kier (briefly)! It's all here for you to enjoy. That is, if you are over 18 and don't have a weak stomach. Friday 26th February Suspiria (1977) Dir. Dario Argento Ancient witchcraft at a dancing academy, all set to an incredible Goblin score. One of the very best horror films ever made. Dawn of the Dead (1978) Dir. George A. Romero No flesh is too big or...mall for these zombies! Friday 5th March Tenebrae (1982) Dir. Dario Argento Murdery mystery mimicry! I would have put this on a double bill with The Eyes of Laura Mars, but I am not the curator, and so... The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) Dir. Tobe Hooper The ultimate midnight movie, hard not to get all cut up over this one. Friday 12th March Phenomena (1985) Dir. Dario Argento Jennifer Connolly talks to bugs, extreme boarding school creepiness ensues. Last House on the Left (1972) Dir. Wes Craven Extreme rape/sexual torture scenes, be warned. It was based on the same Swedish folk tale as Bergman's beautiful film The Virgin Spring but you'd never know it. Friday 19th March Deep Red (1975) Dir. Dario Argento A psychic is killed, then, well, so is everyone else. One of his best, with a fantastic Goblin score. Eaten Alive (1976) Dir. Tobe Hooper The ultimate in crocsploitation (here I refer to the giant reptile, not the horror that is the shoe brand).
Apparently this show is a fundraiser for Sounds In Motion but details are sketchy - I've tried researching what Sounds In Motion is, but not much comes up. Anyway, charity aside, two great bands are playing: Belles Will Ring, the Blue Mountainer psych rockers, and Songs, the newly ubiquitous Sydney via NZ popsters. Belles have been a little quiet on the live scene lately; they've been focusing on recording in a big old house behind the Blue Mountains, and this show should be a chance to hear some of their new songs. These tunes will be probably see the light of day on the the follow up to their last release, the mini LP Broader Than Broadway. Songs (above) released their self titled debut LP in November, and it has received a whole load of praise, especially from the Aus Blogosphere - all of it deserved, with their smart songwriting and melodies sure to keep haunting you long after listening. Silver Moon and Mucky Fingers are also playing, so this is a fundraiser you want to support.
Like some exploding parasite egg stash, the St Jerome Laneway Festival has outgrown its original venues and is busy spraying its seed into new hosts. Circular Quay just doesn't cut it anymore for the Sydney crowds, so now the SCA will be incubating a brilliant line-up amongst its sandstone, artists and asylum patients out in Rozelle. Oh god, the line-up for 2010 is good, with plenty of grit to differentiate this festival from the candy-glitter electro of most summer music bashes. Amongst the puking-good thrash of the Black Lips and Florence's lungasms is the wunderkind of outsider alternative, Daniel Johnston, who is shucking off the devil for his first Australian tour. And the local acts aren't to be forgotten either, such as Dappled Cities, Eddy Current Suppression Ring and Danimals, who all seem to capture the perfect sonic embodiment of SCA's eclectic grounds.
Polemical, political satirist Bill Maher is a man on a mission… against God. Taking the stance that religion is a hiding to the end of the world; Maher is not so much peddling nihilism as his is doubt. Doubt about the historical validity and exclusive strictures of organised religion. Evolution, homosexuality, fundamentalism and the afterlife are all levelled by Maher’s caustic wit as he interrogates members of major religious institutions, as well as Jesus (from a Christian theme park), while still making time to poke fun at the ‘Church’ of Scientology. Maher adheres to the Michael Moore school of documentary, grounding his film in personal experience and peppering his interviews with pop culture clips and amusing subtitles. Theirs has a heavier, brasher touch than Andrew Denton, Louis Theroux or even John Safran, all of who have undertaken similar steps towards Enlightenment. Maher frequently uses his subjects as punch lines, and though his holier than thou approach can grate; you can’t fault his comic timing. Religion and comedy are certainly a combustible mix, particularly with Borat and Brüno director Larry Charles at the helm; you know nothing is sacred. But although Maher and Charles clearly don’t have God on their side, with final cut, they definitely get the last laugh. https://youtube.com/watch?v=-Gxc0XEoQpQ https://youtube.com/watch?v=yXdwTlByZFo https://youtube.com/watch?v=vp_NbI8Gdio https://youtube.com/watch?v=0ghIU_tlX0k
January 1st is a bit of a doozy when it comes to a party (it's always either a really bad idea or a really bad idea), but by January 2nd, things are on the mend (a little). By then, you're up and walking, feeling a little disheveled perhaps but fine, just a little sloppy. The folks at Popfrenzy Records know this limbo state all too well, which is why they're throwing a party called Slopfrenzy to help ease your pain. If your New Years Resolutions for 2010 involve going to a party with truly incredible international acts that aren't doing any other non-festival shows in Sydney in the form of Telepathe (NYC) and Micachu & the Shapes (UK), as well as local faves Seekae (winners of this year's best live act at the SMAC awards!), Canvas Kites, Shady Lane + more to be announced AND dancing to the sultry sounds of DJs Radge, Smart Casual and Enari, why, you're in luck because Slopfrenzy makes that seemingly impossible list quite plausible. May as well just tick that accomplishment off now.One of the headline bands Micachu & The Shapes are making their very first visit to Australia this January, and their debut album Jewellery is a near perfect party soundtrack. Live, they're lots of fun. I've seen them play in tiny warehouses and underground clubs, and each time the crowd (and me) just could not get enough of they're rough, loud and suprising pop. Telepathe are a two lady duo, who make haunting dance beats that make you contort your body into funny shapes in response (in a good way). In their hometown of New York, it's pretty tough to nab a ticket to see them and here they're playing live and also DJing.Slopfrenzy is all taking place at the Civic Hotel in the city's CBD, on Cuba Gooding Jr's birthday, January 2nd. Tickets are available through Moshtix and Incu Clothing stores.https://youtube.com/watch?v=8TRkZpFgJcI https://youtube.com/watch?v=_Un5SJ1aAGM
You could spend the weekend wondering where summer has gone, venturing a timid toe into the cold ocean, savouring the sun as it manages to still heat but not with the January boil that we all enjoyed, be dragged along to a picnic with the relos. OR, you could go to CarriageWorks and experience Sydney hip hop at its absolute best. This Friday and Saturday, CarriageWorks sheds its So You Think You Can Dance boring, contemporary shackles and embraces the full spectrum of hip hop culture. Friday sees the spectacular talents of the one and only SistaNative in an awesome hip hop theatre performance. You'll also be greeted by the hottest DJs spinning up tracks in the foyer and you can check out the Flexing Skillz Freestyle Jam where MCs, DJs, breakers, and vocalists bust out a rhyme in an improv comp based on topics from the audience. Saturday is a full day of free hip hop fun, including graffiti and tagging demos, a hip hop film exhibition and artist talks, kids breaking battles, MC showcase and beatbox battles — and that's just in the daytime. When evening sets in, the best breakers in Australia come out and battle for the Platform 3 title judged by international stars Ill Will, B*Boy Blonde, and Versastyle. The night also features Mathmatics, Brotha Black and Class A and Nikkita. Top that off with the premiere of Stalker Theatre Co's Elevate which will blow your mind with a fusion of hip hop dance styles, stilt acrobatics and aerial artistry. Celebrate Platform 3's third year and make Nacho Pop proud by breaking down and popping out to the bitchin' beats this weekend.
Three men of different, but easily identified, nationalities walk into a bar and in the space of one sentence demonstrate a well-established stereotype of their culture. Go on, laugh. But, after the punchline, those three men leave the bar, walk their separate ways and are kidnapped by unknowns. When they come to, all three are chained at the feet and abandoned in some hidden, dark prison cell. Perhaps they'll die here. B'dum tish. Frank McGuinness' Someone Who'll Watch Over Me undermines the countless jokes and cliches by pinning three men to one another in a Lebanese prison cell; cut off from time, their homes and the blessing of privacy, they have only their personalities and imagination to stave off the collapse of sanity. Nikola Amanovic, directing for new company Ion Nibiru, has taken this tough script and worked it into an engaging tour of the fragile components that make up human beings. All three of the performers — Rod Byrnes (English Michael), James Elliot (American Adam) and Ray Sullivan (Irish Edward) — turn out energised and well-crafted performances, holding the attention of the audience when the course of McGuinness' script delves into absurdism. Especially notable is the ability of these three men to induct the audience into their world, at times transforming passive viewers into observing captors without any theatrical jarring. Nevena Mrdjenovic's design is both simple and playful. The stage is a rectangle of bright blue surrounded by the black abyss of the PACT floor, and is furnished by two comfortable chairs that would've been fought over in any sharehouse. Under Amanovic's direction, Byrnes, Elliot and Sullivan make great use of these two objects, creating cars, racing horses, a bed and a bar throughout the course of the show. Such a basic stage world successfully brings out the child-like imagination of the three captives, adding a deeper sting of tragedy to their bleak situation. Confusingly, however, the performers often leave the boundary of their blue rectangle and run into the real corners of the PACT theatre space. This seems to break the illusion of their confinement and masks the reason for having such a clearly demarcated stage space at all. Likewise, the national accents of the three characters occasionally blurred, slipping between regions and even into other countries, which at times became distracting. These though are only two quibbles against an otherwise sophisticated, intriguing and worthy theatrical production. In their mission statement, Ion Nibiru point at their desire for offering an alternative perspective through both their own stories and existing stories. Someone Who'll Watch Over Me is a successful example of the latter, and I'm certainly looking forward to seeing this company reveal their own stories in the future. Image by John Ma.
Did you see The Bats on their sold out Australian tour last year? If you did, please don't get in touch to tell me how incredible they were. I know, I know, one of the best shows you've ever seen. As vibrant as ever, you say. I geddit! Zip the lip already. I missed out and have been kicking myself ever since. The reviews for this most beloved New Zealand band of the Dunedin (though they're from Christchurch)/Flying Nun scene were bordering on religious in their praise and I'm excited for my own chance to speak in tongues about their show this April. The key to the 28-year success of this band appears to be that they've never been through one of those difficult breakups, and thus the lineup hasn't changed for an unusually long time. No awkward flowers sent the next day, no flustered Facebook messages. Instead they took a little break here and there and have over a quarter of a century of glorious indie pop to show for it. Not content to rest on their iconic NZ pop status, or to play in other beloved bands (guitarist and vocalist Robert Scott is also a member of the Clean), they continue to play and record. Their last full length was the widely acclaimed The Guilty Office followed by a split seven-inch with Sydney's own (by way of New Zealand) Songs in 2009. Supporting on the night will be kindred popniks from a new generation of janglers, Richard In Your Mind. To win one of five double passes to see The Bats just visit our Facebook page, click 'Suggest to Friends' and tell your mates about Concrete Playground, then confirm your entry on our wall. https://youtube.com/watch?v=QBvnxWNNlfc
France's illegal immigrant population is given an earnest, charming face in Philippe Lioret's affecting portrait, Welcome. The irony of the title is only the beginning of Lioret's stirring, incisive look at the physical and emotional realities of illegal immigrants, personified by a 17-year-old Kurdish boy, Bilal (Firat Ayverdi). Bilal is desperate to reach England to be with his love, Mina (Derya Ayverdi) and, after a failed attempt hiding in a truck, enlists the begrudging assistance of swimming coach Simon (Vincent Lindon) in order to chance the English Channel. Couched within this 'odd-couple' dynamic, Lioret confronts his audience with Bilal's plight. Aggressive policemen, apathetic judges and mistrustful locals all compound his sense of alienation. And after traveling some 4000 kilometers to Calais, Bilal can literally see his promised land; the shores of England where asylum, welfare, love and Manchester United await this devastatingly naïve, hopeful youth. Simon's story outwardly adheres to the conventions of a dejected, lost soul re-engaging with life though this unlikely friendship. An ex-Olympian and, more recently, an ex-husband, Simon marvels at Bilal's passion and devotion to Mina. "I couldn't even cross the road to get you back," he says to his ex-wife, Marion (Audrey Dana). And yet Simon also represents the willful blindness of the French public, as well as highlighting the maddening illegality of assisting such immigrants. Here Lioret has a strident Marion (a teacher and aid volunteer) make more than one allusion to Vichy France and the ghettoising of the Jews. Unsurprisingly, such provocative comparisons stirred much debate in France, as well as criticism of President Sarkozy's policies that prosecute those offering aid to illegal aliens. For Australian audiences, the response may not be quite so polarising, though Welcome should resonate profoundly with our own, checkered handling of asylum seekers. Michael James Roland's under-appreciated Lucky Miles may have gone for more laughs, but both he and Lioret sought to utilise cinematic convention to convey their uncomfortable, oft-ignored truths. Nuanced performances and assured direction make Lioret's political fable a joy to experience. Welcome is a beautifully realised call-to-arms, that also manages to share a bit of love and hope with the world. Welcome is screening at the French Film Festival (with Philippe Lioret taking part in a Q&A screening on March 15) prior to the film's theatrical release on April 1st. https://youtube.com/watch?v=t40ANH4Pe14
Tara Marynowsky’s faint, whispering watercolors appear to float within the canvas like nebulous snapshots of REM-state imaginings, their pale delicacy unencumbered by the volumes of idea, history and myth of which they speak. With a gentle hand and a playful touch, Marynowsky explores the sinister, surreal, spiritual and supernatural realm of magic and mythology. Based on her mothers collection of Man, Myth and Magic encyclopedia magazines (c.1970), Gods and Monsters, Marynowskys first solo exhibition, depicts both specific and loose interpretations of characters from Slavic folklore, like Baba Yaga — a witch-like figure who makes cuisine of small children. What is unique in Marynowsky’s work is the subtle way she imbues her almost translucent images with these larger themes, so it’s only after a sustained gaze that the layers begin to peel away and a rich, fantastical dimension reveals itself. In contrast, Linda Ngitjanka Napurrula presents a selection of large scale, vibrant and earthy depictions of the landscape and flora of her home country, Alkipi, in Northern Territory, Australia. Bold and striking, Napurrula’s work tells a story of the land with reverence to its raw beauty and simplicity. Dots, shapes and sprays of colour represent the artists detailed observations of nature, such as the way moisture gathers in cracks after it rains and varieties of ‘bush tucker’ native to the region. Astoundingly, Napurrula works with only six percent vision, navigating the canvas with intuition and her “natural sense of colour and design.” Napurrula and Marynowsky's work is shown side by side at the Chalk Horse Gallery. Image by Linda Ngitjanka Napurrula.
It's time to sharpen your jabbing elbows, the Big Fashion Sale is back. All of your discount fashion dreams are about to come true, even the ones you've never had! Prepare for rack upon rack of reduced designer threads including seconds, samples, excess stock and vintage from the best Australian labels. Both men and women will be catered for with oodles of accessories, swimwear and shoes as well. Representing will be Marnie Skillings, Rittenhouse, Jemma Jube and about a large room full of other local stars and up-and-comers. The mayhem officially starts on March 4, but we suggest you go early because by Saturday evening the only things left will be the mystery garments that you don't know whether to put on your nose or on your toes. Better yet, you can sneaky sneak in a day early by registering online for the V.I.P. night, where you can fight it out to the death with the fierce and fiercely stylish. (While we don't condone violence, a switchblade might be handy purely for intimidation purposes.) Oh, I forgot to mention the financial crisis argument. Here it is: Financial crisis + can't afford stuff = go to this instead! https://youtube.com/watch?v=wCF3ywukQYA
If fashion is your passion, as the great Henry Roth said (often) throughout the highly addictive Project Runway, then best get those obscure designer boots down to the Powerhouse Museum from February 27. As evidenced by the spectacular creation by Gabriel Lee (pictured), this exhibition will open eyes to the historical and cultural milieu that inspires the works of these uber-talented designers. Lee draws attention to the tragic story of the impact of colonisation on Japan's indigenous Ainu people by weaving their story into his delicate creations. Meanwhile, Talia Shuvalov will demonstrate her particular interest in the early 1900s Futurist Movement, her works infused with a sense of cyborg chic. Elle Wesseling perhaps saw Her Majesty, Mrs Brown one too many times — either way the cult of mourning created around England's longest serving queen, Victoria, gave this young designer a tragically romantic aesthetic to her designs. Elliot Ward-Fear aims to take you to revolutionary Russia and witness a mix of East and West in his designs based on the fleeing aristocrats from the mother country. The Powerhouse is known for fostering the creative talent of young designers, and this annual exhibition is no exception. Offer your support to this talented bunch and be prepared to see their wears rock the runways from Milan to New York and revolutionary Moscow to Victorian London. Image by Josephine Rozman
There’s a large amount of large stuff out there. Houses, shopping centres, cities, steaks, ocean liners, corporations, human bodies/egos … big just keeps getting bigger. Tiny Stadiums offers a retreat to the downsized. A (mostly) free live art festival centred around charming little Erskineville, the program offers baldness examinations, up-do consultations, public crying, sexy new possibilities urban design, and other big ideas crammed into little spaces. Highlights include Parachutes for Ladies with their Dance of Death (pictured above), Bababa International’s Park For Planet Earth where the public park is treated as a microcosm of social imagination, Tiger Two Times’ 20-hour performance in a greenhouse and The Wasteland, an experimental music and new media performance based on the five parts of T.S. Eliot’s poem. For the duration of the festival there will be a DVD library at the Erskineville Town Hall with video art, experimental films and documentation of live performances, and on Saturday afternoon the Tiny guys are also hosting a symposium on the Future of Art where local thinkers and artists will consider ideas such as sustainability, failure, new frontiers, public space, live performance and the audience. Curated by Quarterbred in residence at PACT, the Tiny Stadiums Festival is launching Tuesday 23 February on the steps of Erskineville Town Hall. It’s going to be huge. Full program here.
War is a drug. Or so Kathryn Bigelow (Point Break) and journalist turned screenwriter Mark Boal (In the Valley of Elah) would have us believe. After being embedded with an Explosive Ordinance Disposal team, Boal has written an incisive character study of bomb technician SSG William James (Jeremy Renner), who chases a very different dragon across the streets of Baghdad. Throwing audiences straight into the mix, Bigelow focuses on James joining a new team as the days tick down on the final weeks of their rotation. Already frayed by loss, Sgt. JT Sanborn (Anthony Mackie) and Spc. Owen Eldridge (Brian Geraghty) are immediately affronted by James' cowboy, cocksure antics. Dismissing the (relative) safety of the bomb robot, James instead opts to suit up — into the weighty, claustrophobic pretence of a protective suit — and come face-to-face with the devices of his would-be killers. His courage borders too close to nihilism for the comfort of his team, who seem as impressed with his skills as they are sure that he'll be the death of them all. However, for all this tension, and all the bombs, The Hurt Locker is an evocatively sparse film. Bigelow is unafraid of silence, letting her characters breathe in the uncertainty of their surroundings. Superb cameos by Guy Pierce and Ralph Fiennes further underscore the razor-sharp precipice on which they all teeter, while Barry Ackroyd's (United 93) athletic cinematography adds a further layer of subjectivity to a reality that resonates very differently with each soldier. It's quite remarkable spending over two hours in the midst of Bigelow's taut procedural. While she and Boal are less successful with some of their other character arcs, their portrait of adrenaline addiction and James' confounding call to arms is a singular cinematic experience. https://youtube.com/watch?v=Nk8SdagXPis
Wayang Kulit is a type of Indonesian shadow puppet theatre where, in its traditional form, the 'goodies' and the 'baddies' are easily identifiable by their shape. If only life were that easy. For artist Sangeeta Sandrasegar, shadows are just as revealing as they are in Wayang Kulit. In her own masterful way, she explores the formation of self and the details of our identity through shadow, casting a long low light over the societal roles we live in. With sculptures and silhouettes, Sandrasegar's exhibition may rely on specific light sources, but it's this that gives each one of her exhibitions their own unique flavour, adapting to the space and allowing for creative interpretation of the surroundings. So no need to be scared of the shadows, step into them and see what is illuminated.Image: The Shadow Class--Untitled (Carpet weaver), 2007-2008
If you've been wanting to take a hot, young museum out for a few sneaky bevvies, now's your chance. This weekend sees the MCA celebrating its 18th birthday and, rather than choke on a yardstick of fermented portraits, the now-legal gallery will transform its front lawn into a winter wonderland. Old enough to vote, old enough to dismantle the laws of nature, or so the saying goes.Sydney artist Michaela Gleave will use her powers of meteorological illusion to conjure up a warped snowfield in the middle of summer, and the first 1000 visitors to join the celebration will be rewarded with a birthday snowcone. Afterwards, continue the season-hopping by stepping inside to inspect the Primavera '09 collection, an exhibition of nine talented Australian artists aged 35 years and under.Image: Michaela Gleave Snowtest 2009 Cinematic snow, shovel. Installation dimensions variable. Courtesy and copyright the artist. Photo: Michaela GleaveVideo: Four Seasons - Winter by Antonio Vivaldi. Animation by Ferenc Cakó https://youtube.com/watch?v=MGS6uSPGqvo
By the sounds of things, the whole time Adrian Deutsch was a member of Sydney's tight jeaned indie afficionados Red Riders, he was hard at study. His topic of choice was clean and sparkly pop, learning from the masters on his ipod, or tuning discreetly into 101.7 FM's "Classic Hits" between wowing the masses of teenagers at Red RIders shows. Since leaving the band he has put down an album of solo pop gems, headed to the tailor and traded the stovepipes for a well fitting suit, reinventing himself for a smarter and more studied audience that would appreciate his hooks and cheese (and we are talking the aged Parmigiano, not the Kraft singles). Help You! is the title of his solo debut, and judging from the few songs on his myspace, it will be full of crafted pop, with leanings into easy listening and Bacharach-esque horns, with shouts to Gainsbourg, Elvis Costello and even some of Jarvis Cocker's work. I insist you listen to the title track Help You! as it is a real gem of a pop tune, with a smooth croon and smart arrangement with the production of Deutsch and Berkfinger (Philadelphia Grand Jury) pushing the pop hooks to the fore. It will be interesting to see how he pulls it off live â€" the horns, pianos, layered vocals â€" but I'm sure with his capable band he will do a fine job of interpreting the songs.https://youtube.com/watch?v=EMeA9tfaF6M
The American Dream stretches far beyond its country’s borders. And yet in looking to trade in the Israeli wall for an Illinois white-picket fence, Palestinian Muna (Nisreen Faour) and her teenage son, Fadi (Melkar Muallem) find the dream elusive in 2003 Iraq war America. Writer/director Cherien Dabis’ debut feature Amreeka illuminates the modern immigrant experience to heart warming, pointed effect. Born of Palestinian/Jordanian immigrant parents, Dabis seems keen to tackle the presumptions and pretensions attendant to the migrant experience; not only the rampant racism of Americans towards Arabs, but also the romantic assumptions held of ‘home’ by the Palestinian diaspora. However what sounds like a potential diatribe is actually a lovely, funny film. Carried by Faour’s infectiously enthusiastic performance, whatever ‘messages’ Amreeka seeks to communicate are well couched in authentically written characters. Muna’s rocky American assimilation is balanced by her sister’s (Hiam Abbass) mortgage woes, now patients are abstaining from her husband’s (Yussef Abu-Warda) medical practice. While the teenage experience also features, with Fadi’s plight plotted alongside his cousin’s (Alia Shawkat) rebellion. Only the kindly, Polish-Jew headmaster (Joseph Ziegler) rings a bit false, though it does lead to an edifying discussion about chess. With advanced screenings this week, which marks the 20th Anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall, perhaps Armeeka will hold a special significance. In capturing the wall that envelops the West Bank, Dabis’ vérité-style camera includes a shot of graffiti reading Ich bin ein Berliner...if only JFK’s famously inaccurate pledge of solidarity still translated for those coming to Amreeka.To win a double pass to see Amreeka just email us at hello@concreteplayground.com.au with your name, address and 'Amreeka' in the subject line.https://youtube.com/watch?v=0luS4IWZJrQ https://youtube.com/watch?v=_Pjn5E6yOKo
Plundering the depths of Martin Sharp's personal collection, rumoured to be labyrinthian in its documentation, the Museum of Sydney has unveiled an exhibition comprised of some of Sharp's most iconic works. Martin Sharp Sydney artist is a retrospective that spans the artist's life to date through imagery, much gathered from his own archives.With well-known interests in recurring subjects that tend to combine both elements of Pop iconography and a certain kind of sobriety such as Luna Park, Ginger Meggs and his friend Tiny Tim, Sharp's work is instantly recognisable. Having forged a career as an art director and co-founder of the truly incredible "magazine of dissent" Oz with Richard Neville in 1963 (launched on April Fool's Day, no less), Sharp rose to notoriety through both obscenity trials and the prodigious output of idiosyncratic work.Much has been made of the artist's gaggle of friends at that time, the psychedelic offspring of the Sydney Push perhaps, but it's the art that Sharp has continued on with that is the core of this exhibition. It extends further than a simple retrospective of the work of an artist, it is also a retrospective of Sydney and the artist's role in its once counterculture history that is so often overlooked or forgotten.There is also a series of talks to coincide with the exhibition throughout November:Sunday 1: Ace Bourke, exhibition coordinatorSunday 8: Albie Thoms, filmmaker, speaking about his life withMartin Sharp in the Yellow HouseSunday 15: Luke Scriberras, artist and friend of Martin SharpSunday 22: Richard Neville, former editor, Oz Magazine,futurist and writerImage: Film Strip (detail), Martin Sharp
One would be hard-pressed to find an outing more quintessentially 'Sydney' than the Bondi-to-Bronte Coast Walk, its length punctuated by winding markers that give the impression that it may well be endless. Instead, it is merely endlessly beautiful, particularly now that the decking has been extended and refurbished.There is perhaps one time of the year when this coastal stroll manages to outdo itself, during the much loved Sculpture by the Sea which stretches from Tamarama to Bondi. If you can overlook the conservatism of this year's Waverley Council decency police, there are many delights to see. Each sculpture responds to the landscape in which it is situated, offering a kind of site specificity that one doesn't often get to engage with in such numbers.Sculpture by the Sea has been steadily growing in each of its twelve years, and this year features 107 works to consider. So winning is this event, that it needs to be prefaced with a warning: it gets BUSY. Go early!Image: Winner of this years Balnavas Foundation Sculpture Prize, May Barrie with her work 'time and tide granite monolith II'
Bliss is the new play on right now at Downstairs Belvoir. It's not, as I actually thought, a theatrical re-imagining of the awesome 1985 Australian movie classic Bliss based on Peter Carey's novel. That was the one where Barry Otto was stuck in a surreal suburban nightmare full of Freudian fish birthing and rampant incest. This is totally different. It's a new play from Quebec about a check-out chick stuck in a surreal supermarket nightmare full of Freudian frog birthing and rampant incest.The play is an examination into the cult of celebrity and consumerism. It's full of bizarre twists that are kind of hard to get your head around. The team make the best of what they've been given — with uniformly solid acting and some clever lighting and sound ideas — but the play sort of buckles under the weight of its own ambition.Krew Boylan is the show's standout. She plays Celine Dion, a check-out chick and "a woman on the brink of despair".Photo: Brett Boardman
Back in 1978, Jim Jones took his followers, the Peoples Temple, from the USA down to Guyana in a bid to start a new community, based on social ideals and free from what he perceived to be the tyranny of the capitalist system. This act resulted in the death of 909 people, poisoned by an infamous barrel of cyanide-laced Kool-Aid.Cut to 44 BC, Rome as seen through the lens of Shakespeare, and we find a republic collapsing as fiery, charismatic personalities clash in an effort to wrest control from the self-proclaimed demigod, Julius Caesar. In an act of reinvigoration, director Kate Revz has combined these two apocalyptic communities in her production of Julius Caesar, drawing her audience's attention to the wars that are waged for souls and minds, rather than dirt and oil. Her vision is secure for the most part, with the Republic's death rattles mapping neatly onto the sweaty jungle of Jonestown. Lucilla Smith's set design, as well as Caitlin Porter's maddening jungle soundscape, play a strong role in creating this desperate world.Populating Revz's Rome is a cast filled with the talent to both traumatise and inspire. James Mackay's Marc Anthony is a stellar orator, able to turn the tide of revolution in his favour all while mourning his beloved Caesar. Opposing Anthony is lead conspirator Cassius (Brent Hill), whose downward spiral is greatly portrayed in the second half of the show. However, it is the people that matter in Rome, and Revz's production rewards her audience for looking away from the speakers: the dark corners of the stage are constantly alive with shivering and weeping forms, which adds greatly to the atmosphere of the play. One striking moment is the silent interchange between Megan O'Connell and Aimee Horne across the body of Brutus' wife, Portia (Gemma Pranita).There is only one jarring flaw in this production, and that is the annoying presence of a pole immediately in front of the audience. Sadly this pole seems to cover an arc that contains many key moments of the play, tearing what might have been affecting images right through the middle. Aside from this, the other faults are only minor quibbles â€" a common tendency to fall back into traditional Shakespearean voice against the grain of the Jonestown setting, as well as pockets of overacting that rub raw amongst the subtler performances. As far as debuts go, Julius Caesar is a mighty birth for Revz's theatrical co-operative, Cry Havoc, and certainly marks this as a creative ensemble to keep watching.https://youtube.com/watch?v=SSRKWb4LO3w
New Years Eve. It's still two months away but the pressure has started to build. Falls Fest has sold out, the Opera House is selling tickets to their $895 party, and a few people I know have already discussed "just having a quiet one", knowing full well they'll panic on the day. The best option in Sydney if you want to drink and dance and not have the police knock on your door about noise complaints at 2am is definitely the Purple Sneakers party. Held at Sydney University's Manning House (as in, not just the bar but the whole three levels), the festival long line-up is verging on ridiculously good. Playing live are The Grates, The Boxer Rebellion (UK), Ponytail (USA), Baddies (UK), Red Riders, Philadelphia Grand Jury, DZ + more, more, more more to be announced.Early-bird priced tickets are now on sale, and FYI, it sold out last year.https://youtube.com/watch?v=yGpuC5I3jB4
Yes, Newtown, we know all about you. Op shops, music, food, terraces, hairdressers, art, retro furniture, pubs, experimental locals... And oh how we love you. So much so that we will sacrifice a whole day of our time to wander, celebrate and bathe in your atmosphere. Our ears will happily submit themselves to the selection of music you have to offer: we'll get romantically Romani with the Crooked Fiddle Band, shoegaze with Seekae, and tango along to the Barons of Tang. We'll wade through your numerous stalls, armed with all the delicious foodstuffs that you have to offer, and discuss eco-friendly lifestyle tips. Suspending our usually sophisticated exterior, we will watch the dog show and barrack loudly for our favourites. We even promise not to BYO any alcohol in glass bottles. We will offer you the respect and love you truly deserve. And we will even leave a generous donation to thank you, and the Newtown Neighbourhood Centre, for your troubles.Photo by Amy Mergard
Hubble, bubble, toil and trouble, can you do the mutant shuffle? Duke Magazine are giving their annual dance-off a macabre makeover this Friday with the most swingin’ Halloween party in town â€" Duke's Mutant Dance-Off. Slip into your deadliest dancing shoes and do the smashed potato, the jittery jitterbug, the ooga boogaloo or the king conga… pull enough tricks on the dance floor and you could be crowned King or Queen of the mutant monster mash! Dress code is, of course, mutant, so think along the lines of a footloose Frankenstein. DJs Mike Tyson, National Treasure, Sirens and Sex Azza Weapon are on the decks, with cool prizes from Converse, Levis and more up for grabs. You can enter with a partner or go solo… just make sure you’re there by 8pm sharp. https://youtube.com/watch?v=0thH3qnHTbI
Now in it's ninth year, the Audi Festival of German Films returns to Sydney with 30 features to thoroughly sate your Deutsch-longing while you wait for Oktoberfest to roll around again. Ever more successful each year (last year's drew record crowds), the festival is the kind of two-week event where one really needs to go through the guide with a highlighter (preferably orange). You'll be thankful, then, that the program is split into five threads for easy location: Berlin Based, German Currents, Culinary Comedies and films by Fatih Akin and Sonke Wortmann. Highlights of Berlin Based include the three-part miniseries (originally made for TV) The Wolves of Berlin, which follows a group of teenagers in 1948 over the next 50 years, focusing on the years 1948, 1961 and 1989, all times of upheaval. Another is the new film starring Mads Mikkelsen (also appearing in Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky at cinemas now), The Door, the kind of film that comes with a "don't read too much before you see it" synopsis. In the German Currents section, there's My Words, My Lies for lovers, The Crocodiles for families and The Day Will Come for revolutionaries/terrorists. Also in this section is Michael Haneke's 2009 Cannes Palme d'Or winning beauty The White Ribbon. For those that like to mix food and film, Culinary Comedies boasts Kebab Connection and Tandoori Love, the first European Bollywood production. And then, for the completists, there is curatorial devotion to the films of Fatih Akin and Sonke Wortmann, the latter featuring Pope Joan starring Johanna Wakalek (Baader Meinhof Complex), John Goodman and David Wenham in a film about a woman who disguises herself as a man in the ninth century to rise through the Catholic Ranks (that old chestnut). To win one of six double passes to the festival just visit our Facebook page, click 'Suggest to Friends' and tell your mates about Concrete Playground, then confirm your entry on our wall. https://youtube.com/watch?v=46u7E4DAqkk
Farce: a light, humorous play in which the plot depends upon a skilfully exploited situation rather than upon the development of character. By this definition alone, the Druid Ireland theatre company’s production of The Walworth Farce would not have the intricately nuanced, highly developed characters and rich layers of subtext that it does. More than simply a two-dimensional farce, this play within a play is like watching the World Cup final then being pulled in from the sidelines to run alongside the panting, sweating players. From the outset the performance sets a relentlessly challenging pace, with thick Irish dialogue pelted about with the force and precision of an M15 rifle. Light and frivolous, yes, but stacked with dimensions of light and shade that an impeccably composed script and three highly skilled actors oscillate frantically between. Written by award-winning playwright Enda Walsh and directed by actor-turned-director Mikel Murfi, The Walworth Farce utilises elements of farce, melodrama and black comedy to explore the strange and sinister world of a father (Michael Glenn Murphy) and his two adult sons (Raymond Scannell and Tadhg Murphy). The play opens with the opening of another play, their play, performed not for us but for each other, with the utmost commitment. Throughout the first act we witness the unfolding of what we later discover is the warped story of their obscure past. What at first seems like nothing more than an absurd kind of lighthearted romp, later becomes darkly disturbing with the arrival of a stranger, checkout-chick Hayley (Mercy Ojelade), who unwittingly becomes entangled in the madness. Having toured the world from Europe to the US, one would expect no less than a seamlessly performed, polished production, and these seasoned players don’t disappoint. From the set design to the directorial choices, the details are approached with expert finesse and the material handled with veteran skill that begs the question: how the hell are they doing this? So if you like theatre for the same reasons you like roller-coasters and/or pseudoephedrine, you wont be left wanting with this technically brilliant but stark raving mad production of The Walworth Farce.
For those of us who aren't anthropologists, a 'cargo cult' is a kind of ritual practice that emerges in some tribal societies following contact with a 'technologically advanced' culture. Participants, believing that the 'cargo' (or materials possessed by the foreigners) is actually intended for them by their gods or ancestors, invent rituals to ensure that this cargo is properly delivered to them. Possibly the most famous of these is the John Frum Movement, which is still alive and kicking on Tanna island in Vanuatu. In response to American presence on the island, in the '40s the cult built imitation landing strips and control towers from available materials (wood, tin, bamboo and rope). These were manned and 'operated' in the same way that locals had observed American officers doing and were intended to lure the planes which would deliver their cargo to them. February 15 in Vanuatu is still John Frum Day and religious practices involve (among other things) an enaction of American history through music and dance. All this is rich material for Mike Daisey, the theatrical version of Michael Moore, who recounts his experience of John Frum Day in monologue format. Playing on a looser definition of a cargo cult as an imitation of superficial elements without comprehension of deeper meaning, Daisey links these seemingly bizarre practices with our own 'technologically advanced' faith in a financial system which most of us have little or no understanding of.
"Every day, she works in a man's world. Every night, she dances through the universe that is her dream." -Flashdance 'She' can be 'you' and while 'every night' will become a more manageable 'one night', 'her dream' is now 'your dream'! … Oh and 'dances' becomes 'dance'… And get rid of the 'man's world' part completely. Wait, what? Wrong Prom! That's what! After giddying success last year, Wrong Prom is back in 2010 with four new, dance-infested nights. Each evening is themed around a film and this year the heart and leg-warming classic Flashdance is up first, followed by evenings of Blues Brothers, Grease and Chicago. If your shape throwing is lacking, you can turn your lopsided triangles into dodecahedrons of power with an hour-long dance class at 8pm. Afterward, the instructor will step aside to watch with grim satisfaction the Lycra-ridden inferno of their handiwork. I suggest you get your favourite leotard washed and ironed because it is so on that your brain would explode if you actually knew exactly how on it is. The time has come to finally dispel all doubts about your commitment to Sparkle Motion once and for all. The time for your friends to exclaim, "she/he is a maniac, maniac on the floor and she/he is dancing like she/he's never danced before." So, Wrong Prom or So Right Prom? It's up to you, gentle friend. https://youtube.com/watch?v=ILWSp0m9G2U
One must admit that when it comes to our import/export trade-off with Britain, we trump them every time. I mean, we’ve donated Neighbours, Violet Crumbles, the Minogue sisters, and the list goes on. Meanwhile, what have they given us in return? The Queen? And what has she done for us lately? But now, in what can only be considered a noble attempt at evening out the score, the UK brings us the iconic international electro music festival Creamfields. A virgin to our shores, Creamfields, coupled with the Totem Onelove Group, will be pulling out all stops for this inaugural affair, with a lineup to rival any inflated superclub in the peak of European summer. Headliners include the Bloody Beetroots, who will debut their live show; one third of Swedish House Mafia group Steve Angello; MSTRKRFT, who we all know from their nifty remixes of other peoples music; and oh so many more. Now in its 12th consecutive year, the Creamfields mothership docks in over 17 countries around the world and will commence its tour of Oz on Saturday, May 1, at Sydney’s Hordern Pavilion and surrounds, before jetting off to Perth, Brisbane and Melbourne. With the first and second release tickets already hoovered up by hungry festival fanatics, be sure to jump on the third and final opportunity to revel in the frothy fields of cream for what promises to be a first-class fiesta.
The first thing you need to know about the A Night of Horror Film Festival is that it goes for nine days, so don't go letting the name confuse you. In four years, the festival has grown from its original one-night spectacular, with punters now able to take up residence at the Dendy Newtown for multiple evenings of blood and gore. Like its spooky sci-fi sister festival Fantastic Planet, the line-up this year is a heady mix of homegrown titles and international fare. The program is premiering three Australian features, with Q&A screenings for Damned By Dawn, The Dark Lurking and Steven Kastrissios' critically acclaimed revenge thriller, The Horseman. Also hotly anticipated is The Descent double bill, with Neil Marshall's 2005 hit about a girly caving expedition gone wrong (is there any other kind?) screening before the nightmare continues with the NSW premiere of The Descent 2. Home & Away alum Melissa George will close the festival, getting her fright on as a soul stranded at sea in the Australian/UK co-production Triangle. With some 16 bloody features and 50 shorts on offer, the trick will be deciding how many nights of horror your psyche will withstand and trying not to choke on your popcorn as the genre claims its quota of screams. https://youtube.com/watch?v=s3Csyt6CJo8
Design in Australia is exciting and enlightening for the myriad of forms it takes. From functional furniture to meticulous modelling and innovative ideas, all manner of contemporary design is on show this month in DesignNow! 2010 at Sydney’s Object Gallery. This year’s exhibition brings together graduate students from design schools across New South Wales, Victoria and the Australian Capital Territory and is impeccably displayed in the main gallery space. Emi Fukuda, for her playful jewellery, and Zaki Arif, for his geographically relevant firefighter’s mask, received the Object Award for Creative Innovation, while Amy Carr-Bottomley received the Living Edge Travelling Scholarship for her dynamic Origamic Textiles. Other striking entries to the competition are Jessica Benhar’s Behind the Stuff, Michaela Bruton’s delicate filigree jewellery, Alina McConnochie and Erik Escalante’s hypothetical extension of Beirut and Hannah Ritchie Young’s quirky exploration into how humans react to built environments. Broaden your definition of design this month with DesignNow! Emi Fukuda, ring from the Childhood Habitat series, 2009. Image by Saskia Wilson.
A vampire should be staked through the heart, decapitated, cooked on a skewer and then served up with garlic bulbs. At least that's the way it was done in the old country. But since infiltrating Hollywood, those bloodsuckers have us salivating for their brooding, glitter-covered cheekbones and six-packs. F.W. Murnau, German expressionist filmmaker and gleeful copyright flaunter, knew the truth. And now, 88 years after its original release, a remastered version of his classic, Nosferatu, is coming to the Opera House. Coming with it is Count Orlok, a filthy, skeletal, bug-eyed freak that would have pretty boys like Edward, Lestat and Angel clawing their dreamy eyes out. Adding sound to this silent masterpiece are chaotic septet Darth Vegas and the aptly monikered Miss Death, of Mu Meson fame. Those afraid of vampiric retribution on the night need not worry: Jay Katz will be introducing the screening and it's usually the guy with the mike that gets taken out first. https://youtube.com/watch?v=lwKIc8kNkRQ
If you’re struggling to make sense of our world after the Easter long weekend, or are simply recovering from overindulgence, check out Satanism by what at Gallery 9. With the statement “I do not work for God, directly. I work for God in mysterious ways. I work for God in the same way that I might work for Satan”, the intriguing artist known as what unwraps the point behind his current solo show. In his exploration of the boundaries of the light and dark sides, and the symbiotic relationship between them, what uses Bach’s Chaconne in D Minor as a framework. Originally written for the violin, the chaconne (the last part of a larger piece of music) was seen as one of the most difficult pieces to play — in its fifteen or so minutes it covers all facets of the violin, as known to Bach at the time. It’s these variations that become a study on Satanism. Small, white, inverted crosses on black backgrounds reveal that one tone is nothing if not undefined without the other.
From the opening frame of this starkly elegant familial drama, there is a sense that we are being steered along a fastidiously calculated course by a team of highly trained navigators. Each extravagantly stylised shot is defined by a purpose, each sweeping metaphor glaringly apparent and each subtle nuance carved into a meticulous performance by Tilda Swinton is decidedly done. We first meet Emma (Swinton) gracefully directing the proceedings of an opulent dinner party for her ageing father-in-law, the patriarch of the Recchi clan and founder of an exceedingly successful textile company in Milan. Clearly Emma is well versed in such things, coordinating the event with seamless, almost mechanical ease. We immediately get the sense that this is how she conducts her life and has done since leaving her native Russia to marry Tancredi (Pippo Delbono), who shares heirship to the Recchi throne with his eldest son Edoardo (Flavio Parenti). She is skillfully playing the role required of her as a "Recchi woman" — dutiful wife, mother and honorary Italian — yet nothing seems to land. Her life, like the immaculate art deco villa she and her family inhabit, is a beautifully designed, gilded cage that engulfs her entirely. When Emma is introduced to Edoardo’s new friend and talented young chef Antonio (Edoardo Gabbriellini), we see in her the first spark of what will later become a monstrous flame of passion and the beginnings of a familiar, Shakespearean tragedy-like course of action. I am Love (Io sono l’amore) has been more than seven years in the making and is the collaborative effort of Swinton and Sicilian-born director/co-writer/producer Luca Guadagnino. Its lengthy gestation period is evident throughout the highly polished finished product — each cinematic choice seeming at times a little too deliberate, from the dramatic operatic score by esteemed composer David Adam to the lush, expansive cinematography by Yorick Le Saux (Swimming Pool). The painstaking attention to aesthetic certainly makes for a stunning visual feast — with lingering shots of the seductive European countryside, architecture and cuisine — but, unfortunately, tends to swallow the intimacy between characters and overwhelm the narrative. However, the intrigue and complexity of this film does not lie within the storyline itself, which follows an obvious course and indulges a little too often in bloated metaphor; rather, it is etched into Swinton's delicately nuanced performance. The result: a powerful portrayal of a woman caught between the constraints of societal expectation and an innate desire for freedom and self-expression.
On a recent visit to Paris, I attempted to speak French to a group of locals. Despite the fact I could barely string a sentence together, the males in the group were enchanted and asked me to repeat "je ne sais pas" and "enchanté" over and over again. Apparently, a foreign accent is incredibly sexy to the French, as long as you're not attempting to order an Italian "latte" from an impatient waiter who presumes you're a British tourist. So, this got me thinking: if I were to record an album of French covers in my sexy Australian accent, would it have the same effect on the French as Nouvelle Vague's covers of Depeche Mode's 'Just Can't Get Enough' and the Undertones' 'Teenage Kicks' have on us? Most likely not. Truth be told, no musician has ever quite pulled off a cover version as spectacularly as Nouvelle Vague. This collective of French artists is made up of past and current members including Anais Croze, Camille Dalmais, Phoebe Killdeer, Melanie Pain, Marina Celeste and Gerald Toto. The magnifique news is that Nouvelle Vague are heading to Sydney on June 16 to host So Frenchy So Chic at the Factory Theatre, where they will be performing covers new and old in their unique post-punk-meets-bossanova style. They are supported by Bardot-esque French singer-songwriter Berry, who performs only in her native tongue. https://youtube.com/watch?v=rt8vRmp9iMs
Who hasn't thought about spending an evening with Stephen Fry? Certainly he seems more intelligent than you, dear reader, and me, too. Probably far more charming at least. What would you do that night? Have him discuss how a love of Oscar Wilde helped him attune to this sexuality, or let him tell you about the time he single-handedly saved the only copy of Emma Thompson's Sense and Sensibility screenplay which would later win her an Oscar? No matter what, I'd be hoping at least for a glass of sherry and a couple of in-jokes about his pal Prince Charles. One half of Fry and Laurie (guess which), Stephen rose through the Cambridge comedic ranks and has since turned his dapper hand to film, television and print. He appeared as Lord Snot in The Young Ones, toured America in a London cab (even I thought that was a bit much), panels the quiz show QI currently on ABC1 and appears on that show with Angel and Zooey Deschanel's sister. Just two weeks ago, he schooled me via his television show on the fact that I had been pronouncing Evelyn Waugh incorrectly all this time (Eve-a-lyn not Ev-a-lyn) — and he should know, given that he adapted and directed Waugh's Vile Bodies into Bright Young Things in 2003. If I kept digging through his biography, we'd be here until he promenades onto the stage at the Sydney Opera House on July 27 and 28. That will never do; I must find something to wear. https://youtube.com/watch?v=s_osQvkeNRM
Andrea Arnold may currently be adapting Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights, but the Academy Award-winning director has already etched her own canonical cinematic work. Thematically, visually and viscerally, Fish Tank is a remarkable achievement; a coming-of-age story that puts a contemporary and gendered twist on the Angry Young Men oeuvre of 1960s British Cinema. Fish Tank is the story of Mia (Katie Jarvis), a 15-year-old tearaway rattling around the rusty cage of council estate Essex. A powder keg of attitude and hormones, the only thing that keeps Mia sane is hip hop dancing and drinking cider. But when her pretty young mum Joanne (Kierston Wareing) brings home Connor (Michael Fassbender), Mia is soon warily enamoured of his kindly consideration and driven to distraction by his beautiful physique. In what is tantamount to a dance of young lust and devastating naïveté, Arnold's camera bears witness to Mia's transformation as well as her entrapment. While the symbols of her captivity are perhaps a little overplayed, with Jarvis, Fassbender and Wareing Arnold achieves an utterly mesmerising pas de trois. Indeed, Jarvis is a force of nature in her debut role, while Fassbender effortlessly balances a palpable sexuality with warm, fatherly concern. Combined, it's a potent, unforgettable mix and one that Arnold corrals into her striking and seductive crucible, the fish tank. https://youtube.com/watch?v=a7BFZqQ4ruA
A typically bland, clean-cut suburban family this motley crew ain't. Within the walls of a deceptively serene weatherboard house in the quaint fishing village of City Island on the outskirts of Manhattan dwell a working-class family engaged in a perpetual game of emotional hide-and-seek. Vince Rizzo (Andy Garcia) is a prison guard leading a comfortable but mundane life who harbours a niggling desire to be an actor, a shameful secret he doesn’t dare reveal to his wife (Julianna Margulies). Meanwhile, his wayward daughter Vivian (Dominik Garcia-Lorido), who’s visiting on spring break, keeps sneaking off to her job as a stripper, while the teenage Vince Junior (Ezra Miller) is struggling with an all-consuming fat-girl fetish. But the real secret lies with Tony (Steven Strait), a charismatic ex-inmate whom Vince Snr brings home to stay with the family for reasons that threaten to dismantle his quiet existence. A random but essential ingredient to season the mix is Emily Mortimer, who plays Molly, a fellow aspiring actor who acts as a catalyst and muse for Vince’s pursuit of his true calling and the revelation of his darkest secrets. In keeping with the recent slew of kooky indie films about the contemporary, dysfunctional nuclear family, writer/director Raymond De Felitta revels in the oddness of his characters. An endearingly idiosyncratic bunch, the chemistry between these mottled players and exceptional performances by all create an engaging, entirely watchable 100 minutes of cinema. It’s these detailed characterisations that also give the film its originality and save it from the hackneyed tricks of its genre. City Island is a simple story well told, and like the place itself, holds its own as a jagged little gem beside the billowing force of a larger landscape.
There's a moment in Jane Campion's (The Piano, In the Cut) latest film Bright Star, wherein Fanny Brawne (Abbie Cornish) lays on the bed, light streaming through the window, a summer breeze gently rushing up her long voluminous skirt. The camera lingers almost a little too long, and one is left feeling slightly dizzy from Fanny's romantic and rather chaste, adolescent longing. It's a nice summation of the relationship that carries the film.Written and directed by Campion, Bright Star tells the too-short story of an all enveloping love found between the eighteen year old Fanny and her penniless poet and neighbour, John Keats (Ben Wishaw). We know Keats today as one of the foremost of the literary Romantics, a renowned and beloved poet, but as the film unfurls in the 1818 Regency period in England, Keats is, at twenty-three, receiving ill reviews for his work, slaving away in dire shabbiness. As much, however, as Keats or the idea of him is found lingering in every frame, this is the film of Fanny, eldest sister to a younger brother and sister, and daughter to a widowed mother (Kerry Fox). Strong-willed and creative though her love and talent with dress design, Fanny is immediately drawn to Keats and his slightly brooding, troubled artist persona. Their romance takes a long time to take hold, and continues to burn slowly throughout the film, as it did in life. Likewise, it is constantly fraught with danger, threatening to be unhinged by Keats' best friend and writing partner, Brown (the excellent Paul Schneider) and the underlying knowledge that Keats' financial situation does not allow him to pursue Fanny in a respectable fashion. Though Fanny speaks of and defends the importance of amusement, she is a muse to Keats, whose writing flourishes when she is near. Brown, who occupies some of the best scenes, mistakes Fanny's ardent distaste for him as flirty banter, and seeks to both elevate the work of his friend whom he sees (rightfully) as a genius and keep him confined, but is ultimately unable to do so.A languid tale of love and intimacy found within inspiration and affection, it unfolds slowly and beautifully, much like Keats' very prose, and Fanny's burgeoning feminine sexuality (a common thread throughout many of Campion's films). The new, suffocatingly tender feelings of romance are tempered by formal restraint. Kerry Fox as Fanny's mother is both nervous and understanding, knowing of the relationship that is building and its slim chance of survival. Keats, as history states, died criminally young for such a tremendous talent, aged just twenty five. Equal parts a lovely daydream and heaving, lovelorn sobs, Bright Star is something of an intimate masterpiece. Though there seems too few scenes of Fanny and John alone together â€" at least, enough for the viewer to be able to understand the devastating gravity of their feelings as written in their letters â€" it's a sad thing to realise that their time together was actually that scant, away from prying, concerned eyes. As if pulled from the very poem the film is named for, Bright Star is almost "in lone splendour" at the tail end of the year's cinematic releases. The only other film to capture the life and habits of an artist so accurately in recent years was the French film Seraphine from earlier in 2009, both with their moments of ecstasy and tragedy. With Bright Star, it is that rather precise ratio and the combined talent of Wishaw and Cornish, that makes the film such a lingering, resonant delight.https://youtube.com/watch?v=EP4Kn1P8CFw
