He's an accountant. But he's also a hitman. But he's also a high-functioning autistic. But he's also a martial arts expert. And a marksman. Oh, and he's an art lover. He has a Renoir, but he prefers the Pollack. Man, it would've been a fun room to be in when they pitched The Accountant. And yet, the pitch worked, with the film they ended up making turning out like the lovechild of A Beautiful Mind and Jason Bourne. If that sounds somewhat genre bending, it is. There's even a bunch of quirky comedy in there to really mix things up. Ultimately, the premise of The Accountant, by director Gavin O'Connor (Warrior), is as out there as it sounds: Christian Wolff (Ben Affleck) is a genius mathematician whose autism saw his mother abandon the family during his childhood, and his military father apply psy-ops (psychological operations) training to inure both Christian and his brother to the world of hardship that awaited them as adults. 20 years later and all grown up, Christian now operates as an accountant to the international worst of the worst: mafia, drug cartels and gun runners, oh my! The Treasury wants to know who he is, while a cutting-edge robotics company wants his services to track down missing millions from its accounts. Wild as they sound, the opening stages of this movie actually hold up pretty well. Affleck plays Wolff very much like his recent portrayal of Bruce Wayne: hulking, detached and extremely socially awkward. There are the clichéd maths montages featuring blinking-eyed number crunching and frenzied writing on walls, but on the whole his depiction of a misunderstood neurological conditions is impressively understated. But the film takes a sudden turn for the worse about an hour in. Its determination to throw in plot twist after plot twist results in some excruciating exposition-heavy scenes. The violence, meanwhile, is extreme and comic-booky (think John Wick with a tick), and the characters' lives all end up being far more intertwined than necessary. The supporting cast is strong, featuring the likes of Anna Kendrick, J.K. Simmons, Jeffrey Tambor and Jon Bernthal. Sadly, none are given the kind of material needed to properly showcase their talents. The result is a film adrift, floating from one genre to the next without ever properly settling. It has some touching (and much needed) language about 'different, not worse' when it comes to non-neurotypicals, but the constant limb-cracking and blood-smattering that surround it means the message is fast muddled and forgotten. One suspects the film itself may suffer a similar and disappointing fate. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DBfsgcswlYQ
Sydney minimalist chill house trio Movement have fired a flare, significantly showing up on All The Radars in the last year. Following a hugely successful run of shows supporting Solange and Nicolas Jaar's Darkside with their self-titled EP, Jesse Ward, Lewis Wade and Sean Walker will embark on their own national headliner tour to herald their shiny new offering, Like Lust, out today via Modular and streaming below. The lads from Movement were kind enough to share their EP celebrations with Concrete Playground, fixing us up with a solid playlist of their go-to tracks right now to kickstart the listening party. We figure you've now got enough beats and smooth vocals to keep you going for the next hour or so, cheers dudes. 1. Earn — Childish Gambino (Violet Frosted Remix) "Somebody on YouTube has pitched shifted Childish Gambino's tracks — got a lot of hate for doing so — but we love it." https://youtube.com/watch?v=gQpMJwpOV9A 2. Kelela — Send Me Out "Quality production and songwriting." 3. Kwabs — Pray for Love "We really value the vocals." 4. Zoo Kid — Out Getting Ribs "Real track with a real sound." https://youtube.com/watch?v=L9wLrAtcd6Y 5. Nathan Adams & Black Coffee — Afraid of the Dark "The harmonies... we adore." https://youtube.com/watch?v=_OlIBzIir6k After that generous dose of influence, Movement's hugely anticipated new EP Like Lust is out today via Modular — and was seriously worth the wait. Just be sure to find a significant pair of cans to crank it with, this is some straight-up smooth production — recorded at home and optimized by Canadian producer and The Weeknd foil Illangelo. Four tracks of laidback chill house with some seriously silky vocals, Like Lust is full of wonderfully unexpected moments (most notably the face-melting guitar solo at the end of 'Ivory'). Take a listen below. CATCH MOVEMENT ON TOUR: 22 May - Shebeen, Melbourne - Tickets available via Shebeen. 23 May - Cats @ Rocket Bar, Adelaide 30 May - Spectrum, Sydney - Tickets available via Oztix. 5 June - Black Bear Lodge, Brisbane - Tickets available via Oztix. 6 June - Beach Hotel, Byron Bay
After three years without sugar, Damon Gameau has come off the wagon in a big, bad way. Intent on uncovering amount of processed sugar in an average Australian diet, the actor-turned-documentary filmmaker puts his own health on the line, consuming the equivalent of roughly 40 teaspoons of sugar a day. The result is a lively and eye-opening documentary on a subject that needs as much attention as it can get. Gameau’s most obvious compatriot is Morgan Spurlock, who likewise put his own health on the line back in 2004 with the Oscar nominated Supersize Me. The comparison is an obvious one, and you’d be right in thinking that That Sugar Film seems suspiciously similar. But where Gameau has an edge is that his focus is on so-called health food. When a man dines on McDonalds for a month, of course he packs on the pounds. But when you get the same results with vitamin water and low-fat yogurt, the story is suddenly very different. Behind the camera, Gameau does everything he can to keep his viewers entertained. Music and colourful graphics are in plentiful supply, giving the film an at times hyperactive quality that fits the subject matter to a tee. Information often comes delivered with the aid of unexpected celebrity cameos, including appearances by Hugh Jackman, Isabel Lucas and Stephen Fry. There’s an initial temptation to dismiss the movie out of hand; after all, Gameau’s diet doesn’t exactly constitute sound scientific method. Yet despite the film’s gloss and gimmickry, Gameau could never be accused of sugar coating the facts. That Sugar Film attacks its subject from every conceivable angle, including sugar’s effect on children’s learning habits, the correlation between high sugar diets and poverty, and perhaps most unsettling of all, the lobbying efforts of billion-dollar food corporations, whose strategies seem frighteningly similar to those of big tobacco. Still, the scariest thing about this doco is the way in which it confronts us with just how much sugar we all consume. In one of the movie's most memorable sequences, rather than eating a day’s worth of sugary food, Gameau simply eats the equivalent amount in white sugar crystals, providing viewers with a visual reference point that’s both funny and revolting. While its message can seem obvious at times, That Sugar Film has the potential to change the way people think and behave. What higher compliment can a documentary film be given?
Now that title's got your attention, let's talk. The year 2015 was a tough 365 days for artist Bryony Kimmings — she broke up with her fiancé, experienced post-natal depression and her son was diagnosed with a rare form of epilepsy. Most people wouldn't go on to create a musical theatre piece based on those events, but then most people aren't Bryony Kimmings. I'm a Phoenix, Bitch earned rave reviews at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival earlier in the year and was called "an exhilarating ride" by The Guardian. Guaranteed to inspire as much as entertain, Kimmings shows us all how we can triumph over adversity.
A few people have told me about Wim, you know those "you should toootally go see Wim" kind of comments you get from people. And this could be our chance to see them — for free at the Beach Road Hotel, Bondi. The one song on their MySpace, 'John', is a laidback number with lovely lead and heavily arranged backing vocals over a tune that makes you want to drink red wine and fall over dancing slowly, then pick up the pace towards the end and maybe flail your arms a bit. They are currently finishing off their debut record, which they made in Bob Clearmountain's studio (ah, let's see: Bruce Springsteen, Chic, Simple Minds, et al) in LA with Tony Buchen on the production boards. Joining them on the night will be Sticky Fingers from the inner west (not to be confused with the world's premier Rolling Stones tribute band), who take root in reggae and then go off in unexpected directions, which sometimes reach really lovely pop. Not quite sure how these two bands will go together, but it should be an interesting night.
Films about the holocaust will never be considered easy viewing. Revisiting one of the darkest chapters of human history is a confronting experience, as is facing the specific details of the atrocious deeds committed. Some movies try to temper their bleakness by honing in on unlikely heroism, like Schindler's List, or the comedy of tragedy, like Life is Beautiful, or offering a child’s view of events, like The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas. Hungarian filmmaker László Nemes does none of this. Son of Saul doesn’t just contemplate challenging material — it is designed to immerse viewers in the horrific ordeal that was life in a concentration camp. While charting the daily misery of Jewish prisoners might sound familiar, it's the inner workings of the Sonderkommando that are thrust into the spotlight here. Those unacquainted with the term may be startled to discover its meaning, referring to a unit of detainees that assisted the Nazis with the very worst aspects of their final solution. Sonderkommando workers escorted their fellow inmates into the gas chamber, then cleaned up the aftermath. Their compliance was coerced, unsurprisingly; by hastening the deaths of others, they avoided their own for a few months. In a film fictional in its specifics but inspired by actual testimonies in the book The Scrolls of Auschwitz, Saul Ausländer (Géza Röhrig) is one of many men caught in this unfortunate situation — but when he tries to help a boy that crosses his path, he stands out from the rest of the group. Over the course of a turbulent 24 hours in 1944, he attempts to find a rabbi to give the child a proper burial. As he's searching, endeavouring to evade the camp's guards in the process, other members of the Sonderkommando plot their own larger acts of rebellion. Though there's no doubting the powerful nature of this story, Nemes' stylistic choices prove just as potent as the predicament he explores. It is impossible not to notice the feature's boxed-in aesthetics and constrained atmosphere, nor its concerted efforts to ensure the audience feels as trapped and claustrophobic as the on-screen characters. The filmmaker shoots in the Academy aspect ratio of 1.375:1, and keeps the camera as close as possible to his protagonist. The parallels he's trying to cultivate might be obvious, but that doesn't lessen their intensity. For viewers and Saul alike, there is simply no escape. Nemes isn't the feature's only standout, however — and while the writer-director is forceful in his approach, his leading man offers an understated counterpart. In his first film role, and in a performance conveyed through mannerisms more than dialogue, Röhrig makes Saul's struggle seethe beyond its historical context. Striving to aid another, even in difficult circumstances; putting someone else's needs before our own; choosing empathy, not just endurance. Ultimately, aren't these the things that make us human?
UPDATE, December 18, 2020: Long Shot is available to stream via Amazon Prime Video, Binge, Foxtel Now, Google Play, YouTube Movies and iTunes. Kick arse in huge action franchises. Steal scenes in beloved sitcoms. Find dark humour in different stages of womanhood. Is there anything that Charlize Theron can't do? A decade and a half ago, she rightfully won an Oscar for transforming into a serial killer in Monster, but the biggest coup of her career just might be her ability to keep evolving on-screen. After a five-year stretch that's included Mad Max: Fury Road, Atomic Blonde and Tully, Long Shot is the latest example of Theron's chameleonic talents — a political rom-com that's as irreverent (and often inappropriate) as you'd expect of a flick that also stars Seth Rogen, and genuinely heartfelt and hilarious as well. Charlize Theron, romantic-comedy standout? You'd better believe it. With an accessible air of elegance and a can-do attitude but zero sharp edges, Theron plays US Secretary of State Charlotte Field, the youngest person to ever hold that position. When the current TV star-turned-"dumb-fuck president" (Bob Odenkirk) — the film's exact words — decides not to seek re-election because he'd rather move into movies, Charlotte secures his endorsement to run for the top job. But first, she has to win over the public. Her strategists warn that her wave is a problem, that she might want to cosy up to the attractive Canadian Prime Minister (Alexander Skarsgard), and that she should spearhead a new "bees, trees and seas" environmental initiative around the globe. Also, she needs to be funnier. Thanks to a chance reunion with Fred Flarsky (Rogen), a recently unemployed investigative journalist who she used to babysit when they were kids, she soon has a new speechwriter. He makes her laugh and this is a rom-com, so it's not long until more than jokes start flying, obviously. As well as referencing one of the film's climactic gags, Long Shot's title calls out both a cliche and a fantasy, as does its casting. Based on aesthetics alone, society has primed audiences to believe that this chalk-and-cheese pairing shouldn't work — although decades of movies have made the opposite case. As directed by Jonathan Levine (The Night Before) and written by Dan Sterling (The Interview) and Liz Hannah (The Post), Long Shot knows the status quo, but finds middle ground on a character level. There's plenty about the film's plot that's exaggerated for the sake of comedy, to make amusingly astute political parallels and even to bask in an idealised rom-com glow. However the importance of simply carving out engaging, multifaceted characters who complement each other in a messy and realistic way can't be underestimated. There's something else that can't be overlooked, and it's a pivotal factor in making Long Shot's protagonists work so well: chemistry. Forget all of the awkwardness that blights badly cast love stories, in which romantic leads gel about as well as the real-life US president and the truth — that's never the case here. The rapport between Theron and Rogen is loose and easy, and both the film and its characters are all the better for it. Theron brings depth (and grace, vulnerability, determination and humour) to her role, Rogen ensures that his part is never just a schlubby stoner stereotype, and they bounce off of each other from start to finish. They're surrounded by stellar comic talent, too, from obvious candidates such as Odenkirk, Andy Serkis (as a slimy Murdoch-like media mogul) and June Diane Raphael (as Charlotte's chief advisor), to Skarsgard's amusing turn (as a Trudeau-like figure) and an excellent O'Shea Jackson Jr (as Fred's best pal). Levine, who also worked with Rogen on poignant cancer comedy 50/50, deserves his own dose of credit — specifically for the snappy, outrageously funny film's pace and tone. While a two-hour rom-com might seem like a stretch, Long Shot never lags. And even with a Boyz II Men live performance, a drug-addled hostage negotiation in the situation room, a female-empowerment vibe, topical jokes and a Roxette-scored dance scene to fit in, the movie has room to breathe as well. With the latter sequence, the film gives an overt nod to the song's first big-screen appearance in 90s romance Pretty Woman. The Julia Roberts and Richard Gere vehicle mightn't be the best role model, but Long Shot gestures in its direction with more than nostalgia in mind. All rom-coms come with a dash of fairytale, however this refreshing flick saves its daydreams for making over (and making fun of) parts of the political sphere, while serving up its opposites-attract central pairing with relatable chaos and charm. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wQ5X75F1YJw
Send in the clowns, Stephen King must have thought to himself back in the '80s at he put pen to paper on It. The prolific horror author wasn't the first to turn makeup-caked comic performers into nightmare fodder, but boy oh boy did he help make the concept stick. One glance at Pennywise — the white-faced, flame-haired figure who jumped from the novel to a '90s mini-series and now a feature film — and it's easy to see why the character has become so iconic. Even for those who don't suffer from coulrophobia, he's a terrifying sight that no one would want to spy peering out at them from a storm drain. As such, It is at its best when it embraces Pennywise's frightening presence and runs with it, whether he's roaming around a crumbling old house, splattering blood all over a bathroom or crawling out of a screen. It knows which buttons to push, and when to have the sinister villain appear suddenly to ratchet up the scares. That's to say nothing of the fact that, in addition to just being an inherently upsetting concept, an evil clown makes for a potent symbol of innocence corrupted. Indeed, when it comes to watching kids get spooked by not only a shape-shifting monster, but by a spate of dramatic and everyday childhood traumas, the film delivers. We first meet Pennywise (Bill Skarsgård) on a rainy 1988 afternoon in Derry, Maine, as pre-schooler Georgie Denbrough (Jackson Robert Scott) floats a paper boat in the gutter. Needless to say, it doesn't end well for the curious boy. The next summer, his 13-year-old brother Bill (Jaeden Lieberher) still holds out hope that Georgie is alive, and enlists his pals to help in the search. From the outspoken Richie (Finn Wolfhard) and mama's boy Eddie (Jack Dylan Grazer), to the overweight Ben (Jeremy Ray Taylor) and rumour-plagued Beverly (Sophia Lillis), they're the picked-upon, self-named Losers Club of the school, each with their own set of troubles. Before long they all start seeing Pennywise — along with the unfriendly entity's various other guises — as they delve deeper into their small-town's death-ridden past. In a considerable step up for Mama director Andy Muschietti, It assembles a clown car full of effective elements: horrific imagery aplenty, the skills to make it stick, and the smarts to show that supernatural bogeymen and real-life bullies aren't all that different. Each does the trick, even when viewers can guess what's coming. It helps, too, that it's all paired with an impressive cast. Skarsgård, brother of True Blood's Alexander, is an unease-inducing delight as the murderous Pennywise, which might be the only acceptable way to say something nice about a character who's most definitely not. The kids all play their parts well, though relative newcomer Lillis steals the show from the teenage boys she finds herself sharing the screen with. Ironically, the inclusion of Stranger Things' Wolfhard draws attention to the film's main weakness: the demogorgon that is nostalgia. Swapping the book's '50s setting for the decade in which it was written smacks of jumping on the current '80s-loving bandwagon. It's a cycle as vicious as Pennywise feeding off the fear he creates: the Netflix series was influenced by King's body of work, and the new movie in turn tries to ape its success. Ultimately, it leaves It feeling suitably unsettling, yet all-too-familiar in its eagerness to copy recent retro-styled hits and era-appropriate horror fare. Even so, you'll probably still have clown-filled dreams after you finish watching. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulSJ1yQmZ5Q
UPDATE, September 24, 2020: True History of the Kelly Gang is available to stream via Stan. Parched bushland. Roaring flames. Irate Australians rebelling against the status quo. It's a tragic coincidence rather than a case of making a purposeful statement, but True History of the Kelly Gang's bold, blazing imagery is timelier than director Justin Kurzel could've ever dreamed. It fits, though. It fits perfectly. Adapting Peter Carey's Booker Prize-winning novel via a sharp script by Kurzel's Snowtown screenwriter Shaun Grant, this a work of agitation. Made for a world where 'such is life' tattoos commit Ned Kelly's purported last words to slabs of Aussie flesh, this gritty, galvanising film sets fire to Australia's national identity and stares at the ashes of the country's troubled history — all by re-interrogating a man inescapably engrained in our iconography over the past century and a half. Australia came of age in thrall to Kelly, with the notorious bushranger's Robin Hood-esque story known by everyone. Accordingly, True History of the Kelly Gang needn't wonder what type of nation evolves as a result, because that's the Australia that we already live in. But what has the country mythologised about Kelly, and why — and what does that say about us today? They're questions that Kurzel, Grant and a first-rate cast led by soaring British talent George MacKay (1917) all ponder. Carey's literary work doesn't just excavate the past but toys and tinkers with it, mixing reality and fiction to mirror the present — a task that this wild and daring feature eagerly continues. "Nothing you are about to see is true," True History of the Kelly Gang announces at the outset. Reflecting the film's irreverent, impudent vibe, that's not strictly accurate. But the opening statement sets a playful mood and smashes any expectations of historical accuracy — because, here, anything can happen. So it is that Kurzel begins by peering through a letterbox-style slit in corrugated iron, as pre-teen Ned (excellent newcomer Orlando Schwerdt) watches his mother Ellen (Essie Davis) pay off local Sergeant O'Neil (Charlie Hunnam) by getting intimate. As lensed by cinematographer Ari Wegner (In Fabric, Lady Macbeth), shots recalling Kelly's famous armour keep recurring, peeking through gaps and offering rich and potent visual symbolism. In his boyhood, Ned adores yet also fears his Irish settler mum, who'll do anything for her family — including putting her husband Red (Ben Corbett) in his place. The Kelly patriarch is considered a disappointment by his wife, with Ned dubbed the man of the house instead. Indeed, Ellen has plans for her eldest son. When, through an act of heroism, Ned receives the chance to attend boarding school, his mother refuses. Rather, she gives him to bushranger Harry Power (Russell Crowe) as an apprentice. Learning he's been sold into a life of crime severely shapes Ned's perspective, understandably. Returning home a decade later following a stint in jail, Ned (now played by MacKay) makes a living through bare-knuckle boxing. He fights to entertain the law — such as the suspiciously friendly Constable Fitzpatrick (Nicholas Hoult) — and the upper classes, in a winking inversion of his future path. But his now-grown younger brother Dan (Earl Cave, son of Nick) has taken to horse-rustling, and soon crime is a family business. As their father previously did, they wreak havoc in the bush adorned in dresses, breaking both the law and societal conventions. Immortalised in the first feature-length movie ever made back in 1906, in a Mick Jagger-starring 1970 flick and with Heath Ledger donning the bandit's helmet in 2003, the nuts and bolts of Kelly's story have already been given the cinematic treatment — the Jerilderie letter, the Glenrowan siege and his 1880 hanging among them. While the same minutiae remains here, it's reshaped, reinterpreted and recontextualised, with Kurzel's uncompromising 2015 reworking of Macbeth the best reference point. Think equally ferocious and poetic imagery, an intensity bordering on operatic, a score that's both sparse and jittery, and an all-round punk-ish attitude. Framed through letters penned by Kelly, retelling an oft-told tale isn't True History of the Kelly Gang's main motivation, but rather re-evaluating the legend that's sprung up around him. In stripping bare the bushranger's story, Australia's colonial history and the nation we've become in the shadow of each, two other filmic frames of reference spring to mind: 2018's Sweet Country and 2019's The Nightingale. Ignoring the misstep that was Assassin's Creed, Kurzel's adds True History of the Kelly Gang to a resume already marked by Snowtown and Macbeth — and what an audacious and propulsive trio they make. All three also boast spectacular casts, with MacKay brawny, angry, anarchic and simply brilliant to watch here. Although he's well-supported by the formidable Davis, sly Hoult and raucous Crowe, he's nothing short of electrifying in this brutal yet utterly bewitching picture. The verve and spark in his performance is the same blistering energy that Kurzel burns into every frame of the film — a visually, emotionally, thematically searing movie that strides across the screen like an outlaw, aptly. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RE7YVZA5YVc
Starting a restaurant is a daunting task at the best of times, but even more so during a pandemic. Luckily for the residents of Surry Hills, Daniel Hanssen took the plunge and quit his corporate job in order to share his love of Mexican food with the masses. In partnership with a Mexican chef, Hanssen has started a taco pop-up called Tacos Muchachos on Crown Street and hopes to see it evolve from here. Opened in early June and serving inner city dwellers from 6pm Thursday–Saturday, the Mexican food pop-up offers up housemade tortillas topped with taqueria guacamole, onion, coriander and your choice of chicken, beef or cauliflower. On the specials menu you'll find burritos, nachos and Tacos Muchachos signature quesabirria tacos. Completing the menu is margaritas, beer and boozy agua fresca. Weekly surprises will pop up throughout the run of the pop-up restaurant, like beer marinated steak, cheese and guac tortas. Be quick though, the pop-up was originally only scheduled to run until the end of June but has been extended until the end of August due to the positive response from the Surry Hills community.
In Stuber, Uber driver Stu (Kumail Nanjiani) is obsessed with his all-important rating. He's hardly living the dream — selling sporting goods by day and ferrying around fellow Los Angelenos in your spare time is no one's fantasy — but if his score drops below four, he'll lose his side hustle. Here's hoping that the folks telling his tale don't share the same fixation with numbers, or a similar need to meet a certain ranking. As much as this tired ride of a movie can't stop mentioning stars (in conversation, on Stu's license plate, in his pleas to his customers and in the feedback he pores over after each trip), it doesn't earn many itself. Even worse — the few flesh-and-blood stars that Stuber does have, it thoroughly wastes. There's obvious odd-couple appeal in teaming up Nanjiani with Dave Bautista, especially with the former in awkward nice-guy mode and the latter playing it gruff and gritty. And yet, even when they're leaning into their clear-cut character traits to an exaggerated extreme, the duo remain on autopilot. If director Michael Dowse (Goon) merely asked his actors to channel their respective vibes in The Big Sick and Guardians of the Galaxy, just in a less-convincing manner, that's what he's received. Unsurprisingly, pairing a watered-down version of Nanjiani and Bautista's best-known roles with a grating attempt to revive 80s and 90s action-comedies proves as pedestrian as it sounds. Bautista's determined detective Vic hops into Stu's Uber on an already-eventful day. Hours after undergoing laser eye surgery, the hardened cop receives a tip about the elusive drug dealer (Iko Uwais) who killed his partner (Karen Gillan) six months earlier. Vic can't see, let alone drive, which is where Stu comes in. Vic also hasn't used a ride-sharing app before, so as he tracks his lead from a warehouse to a male strip club, and then zigzags from an animal hospital to his daughter's (Natalie Morales) art show, he keeps the protesting Stu behind the wheel. Every time that the reluctant sidekick tries to flee, with his best friend and secret crush (Betty Gilpin) continually calling in a drunk and vulnerable state, Vic plays his trump card: the threat of giving Stu a bad rating. Although it might initially appear otherwise, this isn't a comic reimagining of Michael Mann's Collateral, swapping a hitman and a cabbie for a police officer and an Uber driver. And, while the scenario is rife with potential commentary about the plague of insecurity that has become normalised in today's gig economy, screenwriter Tripper Clancy doesn't take that path either. The fact that an ordinary guy is basically held hostage not just by a gun-toting symbol of law and order, but by the need to retain a near-exploitative second job that relies heavily upon keeping privileged customers happy, should serve up a potent, insightful and searing statement about modern-day life. But in Stuber, it's just an excuse for an onslaught of outdated Lethal Weapon and Rush Hour-style antics, plenty of routine violence, and an escalating body count. To be fair, Dowse and Clancy don't just play up the buddy-cop angle, although Bautista always seems seconds away from declaring that he's too old for this shit. Taking the clown car approach — aka trying to stuff in as many possible sources of humour as it can, even if they don't fit — Stuber also attempts to wring laughs out of physical comedy, and find affectionate chuckles in Stu and Vic's mismatched interpretations of masculinity. Alas, watching someone stumble around with a visual impairment, even a temporary one, isn't funny. Nor is seeing paper-thin archetypes realise that being a man requires the right balance of sensitivity and courage, particularly when the supposedly heartwarming situation is completely one-note. That the movie's best joke stems from a throwaway line about plural nouns, and its second best from calling Vic "Douche Lundgren", says a lot. Add Dowse's visuals to Stuber's pile of misguided choices, with the film careening and chaotic in both its look and feel. The only time that it boasts any real spark is when the under-utilised Uwais (The Raid) unleashes his martial arts skills. That said, the picture's dull, commercial-style appearance does underscore its blatant core as a virtual Uber ad. Showing just how outlandishly messy a drive with the ride-sharing service could be isn't likely to entice new car-owners or customers, but that's not the point. Instead, Stuber mentions the company's name more times than a jingle, explains how it operates and even references its other various services. It's product placement packaged as a movie, and only the first part of that equation — the wrong part — works. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wMCUWR5ODkY
To look at John Shipton is to see the obvious, even if you've never laid eyes upon him before. The family resemblance is immediately clear, and the traits that've likely been passed down from father to son — determination and persistence, blatantly — become apparent within minutes. Shipton needs to be resolute for the battle that documentary Ithaka captures. It's a fight that's been waged for a decade now, publicly, and not just in embassies and courtrooms but across news headlines worldwide. He's visibly Julian Assange's dad, and he's been helping spearhead the campaign for the WikiLeaks founder's release. Assange fell afoul of US authorities in 2010, when his non-profit whistleblower organisation published documents about the American military's war crimes leaked by army intelligence analyst Chelsea Manning. As Ithaka makes plain, The Guardian, The New York Times and Der Spiegel revealed the same information at the same time; however, only Assange now sits in London's Belmarsh prison. Plenty about the past 12 years since Manning's leaks were exposed to the world is filled with numbers. Plenty about the ten years this June since Assange first took refuge in the Embassy of Ecuador in London is as well. The Australian editor and publisher spent almost seven years in that diplomatic space, seeking political asylum from sexual misconduct allegations in Sweden that he contended would be used to extradite him to America. If the US succeeds in its efforts, and in its espionage charges against him, he faces up to 175 years in incarceration. The list of figures goes on, but filmmaker Ben Lawrence (Hearts and Bones) makes two pivotal choices. Firstly, he surveys Assange's current struggle not through the Aussie himself, but through both Shipton and Stella Moris, his South African-born lawyer and now wife. Secondly, although those aforementioned numbers are inescapable, the riveting and affecting Ithaka brings humanity to this well-publicised plight. Moris herself sums up the movie's position best at the unveiling of a statue of Assange in Geneva. "I'm here to remind you that Julian isn't a name, he isn't a symbol; he's a man and he's suffering," she says. It's a reminder that Ithaka's audience might need, given how ubiquitous Assange's tale has become, including on-screen — in fellow docos We Steal Secrets: The Story of WikiLeaks and Risk, and in dramas Underground: The Julian Assange Story and The Fifth Estate — and how polarising he has proven. Risk attempted to grapple with his contradictions, but Ithaka almost deems them irrelevant. Lawrence doesn't dismiss, excuse or pander; rather, he knows that Shipton and Moris' point remains regardless: that how Assange has been treated for receiving and publishing information is a human rights abuse, as well as an attack on the freedom of the press. That notion echoes again and again in Ithaka alongside its rousing soundtrack by Brian Eno, and with passion; to look at both Shipton and Moris is to see the fervour blazing tirelessly in their eyes, too. Making his second documentary after 2018's Ghosthunter, Lawrence fills the bulk of his naturalistically shot frames with the pair working against Assange's possible extradition, and for justice, with that avid gleam given ample opportunities to keep burning. Again, among the litany of opinions that he's evoked over the years, the idea that the Australian deserves life in prison for distributing Manning's intel to the world — or that anyone does — shouldn't have a place. Ithaka's allegiances are never in doubt, even without knowing that Assange's brother Gabriel Shipton is one of its producers, but giving time to the WikiLeaks creator's critics wouldn't and couldn't have changed its core position. Lawrence knows what everyone watching knows, though: that the mantra behind the movie isn't a new one. Accordingly, the film shows as much as it tells — leaving the telling to Shipton, Moris and talking-head interviewees; and having cinematographer Niels Ladefoged (an assistant editor on the original Swedish The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo) deeply and carefully observe the minutiae around Ithaka's core duo. The documentary can veer towards the procedural as a result, including when Moris works through a desperate and ultimately unsuccessful plan to get then-US President Donald Trump to issue a pardon. It's always personal, of course; that Assange is primarily present as a voice on the phone, aka exactly how his father and wife have interacted with him during his time at Belmarsh, especially after the pandemic hit, only makes that feeling all the more evident. Shipton and Moris have long stressed the stakes for Assange — Moris' Geneva remarks are just one such instance captured in the feature — but Ithaka is equally concerned with the impact upon the pair. It doesn't just use the two as a different access point into this now-familiar story, but to illustrate the emotional and psychological burden that falls upon them as they crusade, lobby and also worry. As Assange's legal battles are prolonged, septuagenarian Shipton loses time with his five-year-old daughter in Australia, while Moris raises her two children with Assange alone. Alongside tenacity, weariness lingers in their eyes as well. It's there, noticeably, when Shipton rankles against pointless or ill-thought-out questions, and when he's ceaselessly direct in response. Assange's case continues; he awaits the latest ruling in his efforts to avoid extradition, a matter that's been before the courts for years now. Previously, it was decreed that his mental health would suffer, and he'd be a suicide risk in the conditions that'd greet him in America; however, the US government has kept pressing, winning a High Court judgement in its favour in late 2021, while Assange's team keeps fighting back. Ithaka overtly aims to raise awareness; the documentary is an act of activism as much as a portrait of Shipton and Moris. It's engrossing and fascinating, too, plus powerful viewing on a subject, and a person, that's rarely been far from the media's gaze for the bulk of this century — but not like this.
Cast Kate Winslet and Idris Elba in a survivalist drama, and you'd expect tension, thrills and impressive performances to follow. Cast them in a romance, and you'd expect hearts to melt like snow. Unfortunately, if you throw the pair into a combination of the two, the results are as mixed as the blend of genres. The actors are great in The Mountain Between Us, of course, but there's no mistaking the feeling that they're stuck in a marginally classier Nicholas Sparks-style flick. While Charles Martin actually wrote the book that this survivalist romance is based on, all of Sparks' basic elements are present. The diversity that Elba's involvement represents isn't something the author behind The Notebook is known for, but characters meeting in unlikely circumstances, struggling through tough times, and finding love while overcoming obstacles are Sparks' bread and butter. With The Mountain Between Us sticking closely to that formula, you know where the movie is going from the moment you sit down in the cinema. As such, only one question remains: can Winslet and Elba make it all worth it? The duo play Alex, a photojournalist heading from an assignment to her own wedding, and Ben, a neurosurgeon due to usher a sick boy into his operating theatre the next day. When bad weather strands them in Idaho at the last minute, Alex introduces herself and her plan to Ben. They'll charter a plane, beat the oncoming storm and get to their Denver destination in no time — and that might've worked out just fine if their pilot (Beau Bridges) hadn't had a stroke over Utah's white-topped mountains, causing them to crash. Soon, they're in the icy middle of nowhere with no phone reception, little food and an unnamed dog as their only other company. Prior to shooting, The Mountain Between Us went through a number of casting changes, from Michael Fassbender and Charlie Hunnam to Margot Robbie and Rosamund Pike. Given the end product, you can't help but feel that they all dodged a bullet. That Winslet and Elba are the best things about the movie is evident from the outset. Screenwriters Chris Weitz and J. Mills Goodloe don't do nearly enough to make Alex and Ben seem like well-rounded characters, while director Hany Abu-Assad does little more than make them look attractive. Even so, the pair manage to bring some much-needed nuance to their paper-thin parts. Bland dialogue, routine backstories and cliched plot developments can't frost over their natural charms or rapport entirely. As much as the actors do with the material, however, they can't quite lift the film beyond standard sappy romance territory. That's primarily because the movie isn't trying to be anything different — although it's not eager to be seen as disposable fluff, either. Accordingly, Abu-Assad is saddled with a juggling act that he just can't manage to master, asked to both show the stressful, solemn side of his characters' plight, while offering up warmth and hope as his protagonists slowly discover their affection for each other. Ultimately, he doesn't come close to succeeding. Still, at least the scenery looks great, as shot by Australian cinematographer Mandy Walker of Lantana, Tracks and Hidden Figures fame. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3jyzGKXBOxA
After bringing Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire back to the big screen with a live orchestra soundtrack, the Sydney Symphony Orchestra is giving the fifth film in the franchise the same movie-and-music showcase. Across four sessions between Wednesday, April 10 and Saturday, April 13, the Sydney Opera House will come to life with the sights and sounds of the Ministry of Magic, 12 Grimmauld Place and the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, because JK Rowling's boy-who-lived and his pals are never far away from a theatre — or a concert hall. And tickets are now on sale. This time around, viewers can expect something a little different. While the event will run as usual, it's the score itself that'll stand out. After doing the honours on the first three HP flicks, veteran composer John Williams stood aside, with two-time Oscar nominee Patrick Doyle (Hamlet, Sense and Sensibility) in charge of the fourth, and Nicholas Hooper whipping up wondrous wizarding soundtracks for the final three.
It might be hard to imagine how Australia's contentious immigration and asylum seeker policies could be fodder for comedy, but Tom Ballard has somehow managed to produce a 'comedy lecture' that is at once moving, thought-provoking, and piss-your-pants funny. The award-winning comedian's latest show Boundless Plains to Share (which takes its title from that oft-forgotten line in our national anthem) tackles the history, inhumanity, and hypocrisy of Australia's immigration policies. It's that rare kind of performance that will leave you both furious and introspective, and also belly-sore from all the laughter. This is one comedy event you definitely don't want to miss.
If you're keen to learn how to say a few words in Sydney's indigenous language, don't miss Bayala. Named after the word for "speak" in local language, this annual series includes a free one-hour introductory language class taught by Darug woman Aunty Jacinta Tobin and Gadigal man Joel Davison. In under 60 minutes, you'll learn basic greetings, place names, and songs. Not a bad way to spend an hour. History and language buffs can also check out the Out of the Vaults show at the State Library of NSW, where a rarely-exhibited collection of items relating to the history of Sydney language will be available for public viewing. Image: Jamie Williams
Greater Sydney, including the Central Coast, Blue Mountains, Wollongong and Shellhabour, is currently under stay at home orders, while the rest of NSW has some restrictions. You can stay up to date with the developing COVID-19 situation in NSW, as well as current restrictions, at NSW Health. While international borders remain (mostly) shut, there's no better time to explore our regional areas — especially when there's a festival bursting with arts, eats and beats to lure you there. So, it's time to fire up the group chat and figure out whose car to take on a road trip because we're heading to Wagga Wagga for Lost Lanes Festival at the end of the month. Now in its third year, Lost Lanes returns to light up multiple locations across Wagga Wagga's CBD on Saturday, June 26 with a program centred around the theme Gloww (two w's, get it?) — and it's well worth hitting the Hume Highway for. We're talking light projections, interactive artworks that you can literally get on top of and live tunes galore across eight locations including Victory Memorial Gardens, Wollundry Lagoon and the Civic Centre Precints. Catch performances from Creature Fear and Eastbound Buzz as well as internationally renowned DJ and former Wagga Wagga resident Nina Las Vegas on the decks. Or, have a crack at ice skating at Wagga Wagga's first pop-up outdoor ice skating rink. There'll be street food and boozy winter drinks to keep you warm as you cruise around town checking out the art and activations, too — think, spicy mulled wine, fluffy paella, gooey cheese toasties and more. Lost Lanes is a free community event by Wagga Wagga City Council happening on Saturday, June 26, but you can get your skates on at the ice rink until July 11. For more information and to book tickets to an ice-skating session, visit the website. Images: By Jack of Hearts Studio, Lean Timms and Pineapple Design Studio courtesy of Wagga Wagga City Council.
Masters of late night snack fuel Ben & Jerry's have been dishing out pop culture-riffing flavours like Liz Lemon Greek Frozen Yoghurt, Stephen Colbert's AmeriCone Dream and, of course, Schweddy Balls for years. Then the masters of frozen confection go and create something called 'Free Cone Day', an annual event which defies haters. You can score an ice cream on the house, as part of the company's yearly, worldwide tradition thanking its fanbase for all the gluttonous support. On Tuesday, April 10, Ben & Jerry's Scoop Shops around Australia are hosting the seventh annual Free Cone Day — scooping out free ice cream from 12pm until 8pm. Suss out your nearest Scoop Shop purveyor of frozen dairy heaven here, and rock up on April 10 to claim your cone. Check out Ben & Jerry's Facebook page for updates.
From the opening (rather pointed) intertitles, this tagline is made abundantly clear. Debut feature film director Marc Webb and his two stars Joseph-Gordon Levitt and Zooey Deschanel charmingly translate screenwriters Scott Neustadter and Michael H. Weber's wonderfully comic tale of the 500-day lifespan of an infatuation. Webb an established music video director brings a definite musicality and cracking soundtrack to the film. He even has Gordon-Levitt celebrate his love in an hilarious dance sequence, reminiscent of by-gone musicals and Amy Adam's romp through Central Park in Enchanted (or even this flash-mob ad for T-Mobile). The musical fun continues even after (500) Days of Summer, with Webb reuniting with his stars to release the Bank Heist short, as well as a spoof on Sid & Nancy (an in-joke from the film). See both videos, as well as the trailer below. Great performances, witty repartee and crackling chemistry between the two leads makes for an entirely enjoyable cinematic experience. In keeping with its indie sensibility, the film is steeped in reflexivity, film and music references, as well as a definite nod to The Graduate. All the ironic banter, jumping around in time and winking at the camera could well grate on some nerves. However, those willing to bask in the warmth of a wonderfully fresh take on boy-meets-girl, (500) Days of Summer will fast become a film favourite.
If a certain bespectacled boy wizard and two best friends have taught us anything, it's that life really is magical sometimes. Take the latest Harry Potter-themed event, which we're certain is going to become the next big pop culture/fitness craze craze. Who doesn't want to bend and stretch in a HP yoga class? Yep, on October 30, the folks at Circle Brewing Co in Austin, Texas did something even more wonderful than make delicious alcoholic beverages; they made many a Harry Potter fan's dreams come true. It's part of their Pints & Poses series (which seriously sounds like our kind of exercise), and was held as both a fun Halloween and Dia de los Muertos-esque shindig, and a celebration of the life of Lily and James Potter on the eve of the anniversary of their passing. Attendees worked Slytherin cobra and Whomping Willow poses, wielded wands to summon a Patronus and cast off Dementors, and were told to "imagine you're sitting on the Hogwarts Express," according to Cosmopolitan in the US. They also ate sorting hat-shaped cookies, visited a potion station, and, afterwards, everyone had a pint of Circle (non-butter)beer. Of course they did. The class was so popular that two more are now slated for November, should you happen to be in the vicinity this month. Given that we already have silent yoga, silent disco yoga, cat yoga, blindfolded yoga, hip hop yoga, brewhouse yoga, rooftop yoga, Beyonce yoga, Drake yoga and stand-up paddleboard yoga on our fair shores, it really is the kind of thing that someone in Australia ought to conjure up, and fast. Accio fitness, and all that. Images: Circle Brewing Co.
There's nothing quite like seeing a movie at the State Theatre during the Sydney Film Festival. The grand site doesn't operate as a cinema year-round, which makes the experience extra special — and then there's the decor, the history, the three tiers of seating, the knowledge that you're surrounded by a hefty crowd of people and just the general buzzing atmosphere. Of course, given that SFF had to go virtual in 2020 due to the pandemic, Sydney cinephiles didn't get a stint at the State this year. And you won't before 2021; however, you will be able to watch five movies there in January. For the first time ever, SFF is teaming up with Sydney Festival to screen a summer season — over one weekend, between Friday, January 15–Sunday, January 17, and all at the State. You can pick one or two flicks to go to, or book in for the entire five. And it'll be socially distanced, of course, but the venue is mighty cavernous as it is. The lineup might be compact, but it's powerful. Firestarter — The Story of Bangarra is a compelling and moving documentary about the dance theatre that provides its name, particularly focusing on the Page brothers. Also on the homegrown front, outback western High Ground has had audiences talking — and rightfully so — since it premiered at the Berlinale. And then there's Aussie doco Girls Can't Surf, about the female surfers who made their mark on the sport. Rounding out the lineup are two festival faves from other parts of the globe. Minari stars Steven Yeun as the patriarch of a Korean American family, while Another Round features the great Mads Mikkelsen as a teacher who, with his pals, decides to test the theory that humans actually need more alcohol in their blood. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=40X5EX6Us7c
There are plenty of ways to explore the Snowy Mountains, no matter what time of year you visit — from overnight horse treks to taking a dip in a thermal, spring-fed pool. If you want to see the region from above, though, Snowy Mountain Helicopters has you covered. Flights range from a speedy zoom over Lake Jindabyne ($110 for ten minutes) to extended flights to some of the region's highlights, including Valentine Falls, Mt Jagungal and the ski resorts ($570 for 60 minutes). To combine a few itinerary must-dos in one trip, sign up to one of the more immersive helicopter experiences. Each starts with a scenic flight over Kosciuszko National Park before taking you to the activity of your choice — you might wish to enjoy a gourmet picnic at a remote cabin, go fishing for trout, or sample locally made tipples at Wild Brumby Distillery or Snowy Vineyard and Microbrewery.
Monster movies have their place. Slasher films, and every horror flick about fiendish foes, too. But features about real-life atrocities — events such as the Port Arthur massacre, where 35 people were murdered and 23 others wounded — should never share the same notions of evil. Director Justin Kurzel and screenwriter Shaun Grant understand this, and demonstrate a canniness so astute that it's unnerving. They make movies that take this notion as a given, unpacking dark chapters of Australia's history guided with it as their guiding principle. That's clear in Nitram, their new film about the events preceding that tragic incident in Tasmania in 1996, just as it was in their 2011 debut Snowtown. Both movies dive into loathsome true crimes. Both films are difficult, distressing, disquieting and disturbing, understandably. Both features are also brilliant for many reasons, the fact that they're about people rather than monsters high among them. It's terrifying to contemplate something so gut-wrenchingly abominable as the bodies-in-barrels murders, which Snowtown depicts, and to face the fact that people rather than evil were behind them. Nitram courts and provokes the same response as it focuses on something equally as ghastly, and similarly refuses to see the perpetrator in shades of black and white. In their third collaboration — with 2019's bold and blazing True History of the Kelly Gang in the middle — Kurzel and Grant don't excuse their protagonist. They don't try to justify the unjustifiable, explain it, exploit it, or provide neat answers to a near-unfathomable crime. Rather, they're exactingly careful in depicting the lone gunman responsible for Australia's worst single-shooter mass killing, right down to refusing to name him. (The movie's title comes from his moniker backwards, and it's all he's ever called on-screen.) Nitram does depict its eponymous figure's mental health issues and medication, and his status as an outcast, but not as reasons for what's to come. It shows his complicated relationships, mentions his struggles as a boy and sees how he's teased as an adult, yet never deems these motives. All such things can be part of someone's life, or not, and that person can commit heinous deeds, or not — and Nitram doesn't ever even dream of seeing that as a straightforward cause-and-effect equation. In his fifth stint behind the lens — 2015's blistering Macbeth and 2016's abysmal Assassin's Creed are also on his resume — Kurzel does adopt a hazy aesthetic, though. The film isn't dreamy, instead resembling anxious memories worn and frayed from too much time looping in someone's mind. Its imagery is boxed in within a constricted frame, heightening that sensation; however, cinematographer Germain McMicking (Acute Misfortune) shoots Nitram (Caleb Landry Jones, The Outpost) as if he's roving around the space to test the boundaries. The character does just that narrative-wise. He earns his wearied mother's (Judy Davis, Mystery Road) constant exasperation, and almost everyone else's dismay. His father (Anthony LaPaglia, Below) expresses more warmth, but is just as affected. After knocking on her door attempting to start a lawn-mowing business, eccentric lottery heiress Helen (Essie Davis, Babyteeth) shows Nitram kindness and showers him with gifts, but even with her he's still pushing limits. When she sees him shooting at an old car with an air rifle in her sprawling backyard, she forbids it. It's her sternest moment. She also asks him not to lunge at the steering wheel as she's driving and, as turbulent as ever, Nitram keeps doing it. Crucially, Nitram anchors its namesake's notions of right and wrong in a childhood interview with the real-life gunman, with the archival footage opening the film. In hospital after frolicking with fireworks, the boy who'll grow up to blight Australian history forever is asked if he has learned from the experience. "Yes" is his answer, "but I'm still playing with 'em," he continues. Nitram isn't ever so overt as to echo those words throughout the movie, and it also doesn't need to. The idea ripples through every scene anyway, whether its central figure is later trifling with firecrackers at a school as an adult, lapping up Helen's affection amid her beloved brood of dogs and the constant sound of Gilbert and Sullivan show tunes, or slapping his dad out of an emotional low. Another scene — a powerhouse due to the inimitable Judy Davis, and a searing monologue delivered with festering pain — cements the idea that Nitram is cognisant of how his actions affect others, but that truth also resounds in Jones' Cannes Film Festival Best Actor-winning performance. He plays the part like Nitram knows he's testing boundaries, and knows the effect he frequently has on others. While even later still, the character tells his mother that when he watches himself on camcorder footage, he's not certain who he sees, there's never any doubt he's cognisant of how the world perceives him. Jones' work here is fragile but weighty, volatile but lived-in, boisterous but anguished, and petulant but intimidating. It's all these things at once and, even with other menacing roles in his on-screen past, it's phenomenal. Davis, LaPaglia and Davis make as much of an impression, one stiffened by time, one stripped bare through denial, one lonely and generous, and Kurzel shows that his winning way with actors is just as masterful here as in almost everything (Assassin's Creed aside) on his filmography. His love of sound and fury remains intact here as well, and it certainly signifies plenty. Every second of Nitram is designed to keep unpacking not only the lead-up to the Port Arthur tragedy — an event that's purposefully never shown itself, but inherently tints the film with foreboding, tension, horror and unease — but also the views of masculinity that've become as baked into Australia as the ochre-hued soil. Every moment is meticulously crafted to unsettle, to challenge, and to confront the reality that something this abhorrent happened at the hands of this man. Nitram doesn't trade in answers, but it does come with a message. Its gun scenes haunt, including when amassing weapons proves effortless if you have the cash and inclination. These sequences also help explain why Kurzel and Grant have taken on a clearly nerve-wracking endeavour, as the movie's post-script underscores. Australia's response to April 1996, in enacting tough gun legislation and buybacks, helped console a grieving country, but those laws have since been watered down. Now, more firearms exist across the nation than did then. That too is blood-curdling and traumatic, and making sure it resonates is another of this tremendous film's achievements.
"My plan was to die before the money ran out, but I kept and keep not dying — and here I am." When asked about her strategy as she faces financial ruin, that's Manhattan socialite Frances Price's (Michelle Pfeiffer, Maleficent: Mistress of Evil) frank response. Her fortune has dwindled, the banks are about to repossess everything she owns and she doesn't know what her now-precarious future holds; however, she's most annoyed about having to answer her financial advisor's exasperated questions. Conveying Frances' reply with little else but spikiness otherwise, Pfeiffer turns this early French Exit scene into a deadpan masterclass. The character's candour, irritation and sharp edges are all personality traits, rather than specific reactions to her current predicament, and Pfeiffer makes it clear that she'd still be spitting out acerbic retorts with the same poker face if Frances had been queried about absolutely anything else. She frequently does just that afterwards, in fact, and she's a caustic delight in this wry exploration of a familiar topic: weathering life's many disappointments. Widowed for a decade, and happy to keep cultivating an eccentric reputation as the years go on, Frances hasn't dedicated even a second to tangibly preparing for her present lack of funds. That said, she soon has another plan. Surreptitiously selling off her belongings as her accountant advises — and viciously haggling over commission rates in the process — she rustles up what cash she can and absconds to Paris, where a friend's empty apartment awaits rent-free. There, she reverts to her old approach. Once her remaining money has been frittered away on wine, coffee, and oversized tips to anyone and everyone, she doesn't see the point of going on. But her dysfunctionally codependent relationship with her twentysomething son Malcolm (Lucas Hedges, Waves), his on-and-off romance with his secret fiancée Susan (Imogen Poots, Black Christmas), and a new friendship with the lonely and besotted Madame Reynard (Valerie Mahaffey, Dead to Me) all add unexpected chaos to Frances' scheme, as does a cruise ship fortune teller (Danielle Macdonald, Unbelievable) and a runaway cat who just might be her reincarnated husband. French Exit doesn't watch on as Frances tries to live a modest life and adjust her extravagant ways. It doesn't follow the unapologetically venomous woman as she learns to reassess her choices and attitude, either. Rather, it unfurls a keenly observed character study that's wrapped up in an oddball comedy — and while mining the loss of extreme wealth for chuckles has served Schitt's Creek well, too, French Exit proves as distinctive as its protagonist. It's a film about a woman called Frances who was once married to Franklin, owns a cat called Small Frank and relocates to France, after all. She leaves suddenly and without informing New York high society of her departure, of course, as the movie's title suggests. That's the type of humour pulsating through this light yet still probing picture, as directed with a fluid touch by Azazel Jacobs (The Lovers), and scripted by author Patrick deWitt from his own 2018 novel. Indeed, the fact that Frances' son isn't called Frankie, and that no one called Fran also pops up, is actually disappointing once French Exit establishes its absurdist wavelength. A haunted sensation hovers over this portrait of privilege undone, though, and not just because of Small Frank's possible backstory. Casting Pfeiffer is the movie's best choice, and must've been far too delicious to pass up — seeing the former Catwoman chase a mouser around Paris is amusing, naturally — but it's easy to see how French Exit could've and probably would've crumbled without her. Finding the perfect person for a part that no one else would've done justice can do that. This film belongs to its equally slinky and scathing star, who adds another commanding performance to a resume filled with them, but she's the overwhelming reason that Frances' wounding one-liners, larger-than-life demeanour and all-round cattishness strike a chord. Equally icy and vulnerable even when she's playing for laughs, she also ensures that Frances never feels like a caricature, or as if she has simply stepped out of a Wes Anderson or Noah Baumbach picture. (In its pithy dialogue and idiosyncratic family dynamics, French Exit overtly resembles both The Royal Tenenbaums and The Meyerowitz Stories (New and Selected), and even offers a gender-flipped accompaniment to Sofia Coppola's On the Rocks as well). Thankfully, Pfeiffer is truly magnificent and magnetic, and the film's embrace of farce is just as compelling. The latter is refreshing, too, ignoring the usual poignant life lessons, and instead embracing the mess and mania Frances seems to cultivate every time she opens her mouth. Jacobs and deWitt haven't starved their feature of canny insights, especially in Pfeiffer's barbed words. A trace of unshakeable melancholy lingers over every sentence as her character tries to do what everyone must: figure out how to go on. But, paired with a lively pace, scenic but never gratuitously touristy Parisian cinematography, and a willingness to get silly and whimsical, French Exit bubbles rather than wallows — and while it doesn't quite find its mark consistently enough, it's a gem whenever it does. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W0UbkJD2KDY
If your new year's resolutions included more live theatre, you probably can't beat the visionary one-person show that is the Sydney Theatre Company's blockbuster production of The Picture of Dorian Gray. Following a run of shows last year and a trip to Melbourne, Kip Williams' groundbreaking adaptation of the Oscar Wilde novel is returning to Sydney for a limited run of shows. The brilliant Eryn Jean Norvill also returns to own the stage, playing all 26 of the show's characters in a mind-blowing performance. The immense response to the production's consistently sold out runs should tell you just how dazzling an achievement that Norvill manages to carry off. If you're wondering how it's even possible to convert this storied tale into a one-woman show, the play is brought to life using a clever mix of staging tricks, live camera work, projections, recordings and stage acting. Audiences will find themselves drawn into the witty world of Wilde's Dorian Gray as the story dives into society's relentless obsession with youth and beauty. If you have so far missed out on experiencing this production, it returns to the Roslyn Packer Theatre for just 14 shows between Friday, February 3–Saturday, February 18. Tickets are available for $70–133, with discounted prices available to theatregoers under 30. Act quick because these will continue to be among the hottest tickets in town. [caption id="attachment_856346" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Dan Boud[/caption] Images: Dan Boud
"This is the captain…brace for impact". Of all the awful things you could hear while flying – crying babies, drunken tourists, Adam Sandler Movie Marathons – none come close to those seven simple words uttered by US Airways pilot Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger on January 15, 2009. After hitting a flock of birds mere moments after takeoff that caused in a catastrophic and unprecedented dual engine failure, Sully and his co-pilot Jeff Skiles were forced to execute a note-perfect ditching of their aircraft on the Hudson River. Their heroics saved all 155 souls on board and turned Sully into an overnight sensation. Directed by Clint Eastwood, Sully is an examination of the man behind the so-called Miracle on the Hudson. As such, the film opts to focus almost entirely on the days that followed Sully's astounding water landing – including with the National Transportation Safety Board investigations and media frenzy it precipitated – rather than honing in on the crash itself. That's not to say Eastwood omits it entirely. The harrowing sequence, when it finally comes, is a gripping and well crafted as any seen in film. But by prolonging its delivery and focussing on the lesser known story, the veteran filmmaker delivers a far more engaging and balanced tale than the more conventional drama Sully might easily have become. In the title role, Tom Hanks brings understated grace and dignity , albeit in a performance far more clinical (even analytical) than we're used to. The style befits the protagonist, a man whose impossible levels of composure enabled him to do what had never been done before, and all with a calmness of voice that defies belief (if you've not heard the official cockpit recording, try to imagine saying "We may end up in the Hudson" with the same level of poise most people evince when ordering a pizza). Aaron Eckhart, meanwhile, puts in an endearing turn as Sully's faithful co-pilot, while a solid supporting cast including Laura Linney, Mike O'Malley, Anna Gunn and Jamey Sheridan ensure the script by Todd Komarnicki stays on the right side of schmaltz – no matter how close Eastwood veers towards its limits. There's no question that Sully is unashamedly sincere in its portrayal not just of the extraordinary pilots, but also their crew, the passengers, the air-traffic controllers and the selfless New Yorkers who raced to their rescue without a moment's hesitation. Thankfully, Eastwood is the master of underplayed tributes to everyday heroes, especially those who shy away from the very notion of their own valour. Few could be more humble, or deserving of such a treatment, than the man who gives this remarkable movie its name https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mjKEXxO2KNE
Forget the idea that you can only be a dog person or a cat person. Kedi puts that theory to rest once and for all. Even if you wouldn't be willing to share your home with a purring companion, there's no chance you won't fall in love with the feisty felines in this Turkish documentary and the contemplative take on life their happy existence provides. That's the beauty of Ceyda Torun's film: its meowing mousers don't come from YouTube, but from the streets of Istanbul, where cats have roamed for thousands of years. They're pets to no one but beloved by all; strays stalking the pavements in a place refreshingly hospitable to their free-wandering lifestyle. As opening narration from one of the city's two-legged residents describes, here, "the cat is more than just a cat. The cat embodies the indescribable chaos, the culture and the uniqueness that is the essence of Istanbul." That may sound like a bold claim, but it soon proves right on the money. Graceful cinematography gets up close and personal with the film's adorable protagonists, while at the same time offering a sweeping view of how they're positioned within the hustle and bustle of their surroundings. Sari searches for food for her new kittens, often successfully begging for scraps at cafes. Bengü has her own hungry mouths to feed, and gets jealous when her favoured humans give their attention to others. Deniz flits around a marketplace making friends with customers, while Duman pursues his refined taste for delicatessen food. Aslan Parçasi is often found by the seashore, soaking up the view near a famous local fish restaurant. Gamsiz hops between apartments. As for Psikopat, she rules her neighbourhood, enforcing her will upon animals and people alike. If they all sound like distinctive characters with their own stories, personalities and behaviours, then it's no less than they deserve. Indeed, that's part of the point of Kedi, which fittingly means 'cat' in Turkish. Boosted by interviews with the humans who know and love these kitties best, Torun treats each animal's journey as she would a person's. In fact, her care and dedication truly lays bare life at street level, her film flitting from bustling eateries to overcrowded areas just like her subjects. Their travels around the city provide a portrait of Istanbul in a microcosm. Finding the ordinary in the extraordinary is a common aim in documentary filmmaking, with the best non-fiction efforts making viewers reassess everything they thought they knew about something regular and routine. With the aid of deft editing and a whimsy tinged soundtrack, the observational and enlightening Kedi couldn't provide a finer example. It wears its affection on its sleeves — or, perhaps its collar — but pairs that obvious love with thoughtful insights. After watching this film, you'll never come across a cat (or watch a cute cat video on the internet) without wondering what stories it might have to tell. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lKq7UqplcL8
There’s something very telling about what happens when you type ‘Point Break’ into Google. The first result is the Wiki for Kathryn Bigelow’s iconic action crime thriller starring Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze, whereas the second one is ‘Point Break (2015 Film)’. The order alone says much about its place in the filmic world order, but the name is the real giveaway: Point Break...2015 Film. Yes it’s still technically Point Break, but of the Degrassi: The Next Generation variety — related, yet unworthy of the original title. This remake, starring nobody, is slated for release on December 25 and is hence the most unwanted Christmas present since that clay ashtray your nephew Declan made. It’s one thing to re-do a film that didn’t get it right the first time — or even several times round (*cough* The HULK) — but when you stray so heavily into ‘unnecessary remake’, you come perilously close to not just making a bad movie, but somehow tarnishing the original too. Consider, then, 2008’s Man on Wire. This outstanding documentary by James Marsh won all manner of accolades for its gripping, diligent and wildly entertaining retelling of Philippe Petit’s astounding high-wire walk between the two towers of the World Trade Centre in 1974. Combining interviews, real-life footage and the occasional re-enactment, it captures every bit of the energy, ebullience and foolishness that defines both Petit and his iconic feat. It is, in short, an outstanding film and a definitive account, making it almost inevitable then that Hollywood should promptly designate it prime material for a retelling. So it is that we have The Walk, perhaps tellingly presented by Google as 'The Walk (2015 Film)’ despite there being no predecessor of the same name. Directed by Robert Zemeckis, the bulk of the movie is presented as a something of a comedic, carefree caper with almost clowning levels of performance and dialogue. In the lead, Joseph Gordon-Levitt is at once excellent and terrible. His spoken French and Fred Astaire-esque lightness sparkle, but his to-camera narration and ‘English with zee accent’ scenes are cringeworthy, bordering on parody. With the jazzy soundtrack, nifty editing and whacky cast of accomplices, the majority of the film seems almost desperate to let you know it’s having fun, oftentimes more than you, and it’s not until we first arrive at the Towers that the seriousness sinks in. Thankfully, too, that's when The Walk undergoes a swift and marked transformation, and where its use of 3D finds a welcome home. 3D cinema has, to date, been almost exclusively an unnecessary gimmick and unwelcome expense, but that’s not to say it doesn’t have its place. When employed correctly it can be a powerful storytelling device, drawing the viewer deeper into a moment and sharing the experience with you rather than just showing it. As Petit finally arrives in New York and beholds the Towers for the first time, the sensation is deeply unsettling — a sort of vertigo from the ground up — and you absolutely participate in his sudden fear and uncertainty. The sensation then compounds exponentially as he travels to the top and peers down over the edge, at which point you’ll be hard pressed not to tightly grip the arms of your chair. As such, it is ‘the walk’ within The Walk where the film is at its best, and the exhilaration of experiencing the moment from Petit’s perspective almost exonerates all that precedes it.
If humanity ever managed to cure or circumvent death — or even just stop being despairingly afraid of our own mortality — the horror genre would immediately feel the difference. Lives are frequently in peril in films that are meant to spook and frighten. Fears of dying underscore everything from serial killer thrillers and body horror flicks to stories of zombies, ghosts and vampires, too. Indeed, if a scary movie isn't pondering the fact that our days are inescapably finite, it's often contemplating our easily damaged and destroyed anatomy. Or, it's recognising that our species' darkest urges can bring about brutal and fatal repercussions, or noting that the desperation to avoid our expiration dates can even spark our demise. Accordingly, Saint Maud's obsession with death isn't a rarity in an ever-growing genre that routinely serves it up, muses on it and makes audiences do the same whether they always realise it or not. In an immensely crowded realm, this striking, instantly unsettling feature debut by British writer/director Rose Glass definitely stands out, though. Bumps, jumps, shocks and scares come in all manner of shapes and sizes, as do worries and anxieties about the end that awaits us all. In Saint Maud, they're a matter of faith. The eponymous in-home nurse (Dracula and His Dark Materials' Morfydd Clark) has it. She has enough to share, actually, which she's keen to do daily. Maud is devoted to three things: Christianity, helping those in her care physically and saving them spiritually. Alas, her latest cancer-stricken patient doesn't hold the same convictions, or appreciate them. Amanda (Jennifer Ehle, Vox Lux) isn't fond of Maud's fixation on her salvation or her strict judgements about her lifestyle. She knows her time is waning, her body is failing and that she needs Maud's help, but the celebrated ex-dancer and choreographer does not want to go gently or faithfully in that good night. Instead, she'd much prefer the solace that sex and alcohol brings over her palliative care nurse's intensely devout zeal. Playing out in a hilltop house near the British seaside that could host any number of gothic horror tales, Saint Maud directs plenty of attention towards the push and pull between its two central characters. But Glass isn't solely interested in an adversarial relationship between a pious young woman with her whole life seemingly ahead of her and the ailing hedonist who'll soon have hers cut far too short. The ideological, psychological and emotional dance that Maud forces Amanda into is gripping to watch — and shrewdly and potently handled — but that's just one of the movie's two key clashes. The other: the war raging within Maud herself. Despite her fervour, as well as the stern but feverish way in which she pushes her devotion to her faith upon others, her own story isn't straightforward. Flashes to her past, and to her previous job in a hospital, make it plain that pain, trauma and tragedy all linger in her recent history. That Maud has changed her name from Kate in the aftermath also colours her backstory, as does her alarm when she's approached by a former colleague, and the fact that her sanity just might be fraying. Set to star in the upcoming Lord of the Rings TV series, Clark also has Love & Friendship, Crawl and The Personal History of David Copperfield on her resume; however, her performance in Saint Maud is career-defining. It's one of the best of recent years by any actor, and it isn't easily forgotten. She's subtle but also severe, two traits that can co-exist in a portrayal this exceptional. She wears Maud's devoutness like a second skin, but also conveys how it itches when anything conflicts with the character's forceful but also fragile status quo. Ehle, who is perhaps presently best-known for Contagion despite boasting three decades of credits to her name, is similarly stellar in a vastly dissimilar way. Amanda isn't an object of pity, or meant to get audiences weeping for her misfortune. Her personality, warts and all, remains steadfastly intact even as illness visibly takes its toll. And, she isn't willing to simply nod, smile and acquiesce to Maud's religious zest out of gratitude, either. Most filmmakers can only dream of guiding such powerful and delicately layered performances out of their two stars — and in their very first stint as a writer and director — but again, Glass isn't willing to rest easy. In its narrative, Saint Maud is about control on several levels, as its titular figure attempts to use her faith to keep her own life and her patient's impending death in check. Behind the lens, Glass has crafted a work of supreme mastery, including in its vivid imagery and sinister mood. Whether the film is sinking into realism, embracing horror or getting surreal, the cinematography (by The End of the F***ing World's Ben Fordesman) and production design can't be faulted. As the movie steps further inside Maud's precarious existence, nor can the score, which conjures up as much unease as the overall feature. They each contribute to a swirling sea of tension, culminating in a thunderous final shot that really couldn't be more fitting, affecting, astonishing or memorable. Part of being a horror fan is spotting the genre's webs and threads, and seeing how the best and the worst examples — and everything in-between — build upon all that's come before. Glass evokes Hereditary and Midsommar-esque levels of dread as her anti-heroine is slowly forced to reckon with her beliefs spiritually, emotionally and physically. Focusing on a young woman seen differently by the world around her, her feature recalls The Witch, too. Both as a character study and as a part-religious thriller, part-body horror flick, it also feels like the product of a 70s binge. That said, Saint Maud is firmly its own movie. Awful and average films make you wish you were watching their influences, while excellent pictures leave you ecstatic that their sources of inspiration have given rise to something so stirring — and, as it haunts from start to finish, demanding viewers' reverence, this revelatory feature falls into the latter category. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OP2MlPwflX4
Kevin Rudd can rest easy in his political grave (at least, for one thing), because the Asian-Australian connections continue to be cultivated. Amidst the Chinese New Year celebrations comes Crossing Boundaries, an exhibition that applauds the artistic exchange between Asian and Australian worlds. Everything from sculpture, installation, ceramics, performance and forums will be on offer as the unique cultural works of more than 20 Asian-Australian artists are presented. Curated by Catherine Croll, Crossing Boundaries includes renowned artists Hu Ming, Guan Wei, Lindy Lee, William Yang, High Tea with Mrs Woo and more at the Town Hall event that'll run from January 22 until February 9. Gotta zip.
Who knew ballet and rock music make such a beautiful team? The newest production from the Australian Ballet, Chroma, features four contemporary works and proves that ballet is not just classical orchestration and frou-frou. The White Stripes combine with contemporary costume and minimalist set design to make this not your mum’s ballet. The quadruple bill takes its title from one of the works within, Chroma, a legendary piece originally created by Wayne McGregor for The Royal Ballet of London and using the aforementioned music from the Whites. McGregor’s ballet differentiates itself from the classical style, with jerky movements meant to push the limits of the dancers’ bodies. “The movement can be freaky at times and shows off every joint our bodies have, sometimes all at once," says Daniel Gaudiello, the male lead in Chroma. "The body is such an amazing instrument and you witness it at its limits." Also slated for performance are twin pieces choreographed by Jirí Kylián, Petite Mort (also featuring Gaudiello) and Sechs Tanze, as well as a new original work, Art to Sky, by the Australian Ballet's resident choreographer Stephen Baynes. The contemporary dances by Kylián and Baynes are paired with the classical music of Mozart and Tchaikovsky, creating a blend of old and new ballet styles. Both Chroma and Kylián's works will feature dancers in all white or neutral costumes, highlighting the motions of the dancers. “We are in these little camisole-like chiffon outfits that are designed to complement our skin tones," says Gaudiello. "The result I think is an inside-out view of ballet through an androgynous lens.” The intensity of ballet, particularly when paired with the music of The White Stripes, shows off the pure athleticism of the dancers. “I feel Australia is such an athletic country and so is the ballet," says Gaudiello. "We all feel so lucky to have the chance to try such a coveted work and I really believe we will strive in every show to put in the raw intention, attack and groove that such a difficult piece like Chroma demands." As for the stories the choreography conveys, Gaudiello tries not to sway us. “That is the beauty of contemporary ballet, sometimes the ending is up to you,” he says. Chroma is on at the Sydney Opera House from May 2-17. Tickets can be purchased through the Sydney Opera House website.
Got a nerf gun? And not quite sure of an appropriate context to use it (without your friends/family members getting slightly annoyed)? Well, look no further, because Verge Festival at Sydney University is bringing Zedtown to, well, town. And what is Zedtown? It's a huge Humans vs Zombies game. Up to 200 peeps can play (so it’s twice the size of last year’s game). There are prizes, ammo dumps and even multiple endings. A chance to run around like a crazy person. The rules? Most players start out as a human and become a zombie after being tagged. Yup, just like in the playground, but without the cooties. Oh, and you can try to stop the zombies from tagging you by nerf gunning them. Perfect for the slightly aggressive type. But remember, you can only use nerf guns. Be careful you don’t get too caught up in it. Dress for the end of the world (open to interpretation) and bring your nerf blaster down to uni. Check out last year's efforts to get inspired. Earn your right to live! Registration will be held at the ACCESS office at Sydney University on Thursday, September 12, at 9am. No more than four registrations may be filled out per registrant. ACCESS holders must be present and carrying their card for the discount.
In 2013, at London's Alexandra Palace, filmmakers Nick Fenton and Peter Strickland followed Bjork as she performed every single track on 2011 album Biophilia. What emerged was a rather dazzling doco that, to be fully appreciated, should most definitely be seen on the big screen. To that end, Palace Cinemas are hosting two screenings of Biophilia Live in two locations on the same night: one at Norton Street and the other in Paddington. Bjork and her band give the tunes spectacular treatment, drawing not only on traditional instruments but also on all manner of non-traditional ones, including those of the digital variety. There's even a few that haven't been invented yet. The Guardian described the film as "utterly bonkers yet moving", while the Hollywood Reporter got poetic. "Heavenly constellations billow across dark sections of screen above the stage," the review reads, "sometimes engulfing Bjork like she is some kind of gargantuan space goddess."
When a café is owned and operated by a chef, you expect the food to be exceptional. And at De'Assis Café, a joint founded by Flavio Assis who previously worked for The Boathouse Group, your expectations will be met. The menu features seasonal and local produce designed to be enjoyed with friends. If you've got a sweet tooth, try the ricotta hotcakes with mascarpone, banana and berries. Or, for something savoury yet equally as indulgent, the croque madame, with double smoked ham, gruyere cheese and dijon mustard on sourdough (topped with a fried egg and more cheese) is top-notch, too. Coffee wise, De'Assis use beans from specialty coffee roasters Seven Miles, who are locally based in Manly Vale — perfect after an early morning swim. Images: Mel Koutchavlis
Those without easy access to a yia yia insisting she "make you lamb" or who didn't quite make it Milos for a European summer are invited to Sunday roast at The Apollo. Because, as well as taking pity on Sydney-siders shivering through single-digit temps, the Potts Point restaurant with a reputation as one best for hearty-yet-hip Hellenic food, will also be bringing authentic Greek Granny vibes to the table, serving up a traditional spread every Sunday in July from 12pm-3pm. The Let's Roast Menu will dish up all of The Apollo favourites including marinated olives, pickled purslane, and the split pea dip with village crusty bread. But the superstar of the show will be Chef Marcello's roast porchetta, served with classic lemon rice, crispy roast potatoes and bitter greens (pictured above). Those who like to finish off strong with something sweet, should save some room for the semolina cake with blood orange and shaved halva for dessert. With a glass of house Greek red or white wine also included in the $70pp price, we think you'll find plenty of reasons to say Opa! to this meal. Walk-ins are welcome, however, due to limited availability booking are highly recommend. Visit the Apollo website to secure your seat at the Sunday Roast today.
The self-deprecating not-humour humour of Sydney artist Christopher Hanrahan's work makes it the kind that continues to resonate long after you've encountered it. If you saw his sculpture Endless Holes (four decanters for CB) which was part of his solo exhibition Table of Knowledge last year, you'll know what I mean.If I could get the artist to write something about his new show, he might write something exactly like this:The Seeker is Christopher Hanrahan's second solo exhibition at Sarah Cottier Gallery. Utilising a variety of media from traditional drawing through to casting, aerosol art and neon, Hanrahan examines pretty much nothing. That said — it's pretty good. Pretty, pretty good.Go and see it.Image courtesy of the artist and Sarah Cottier Gallery
To celebrate the Queen's birthday Chopdog Promotions, The Brag and Dyingscene.com are bringing together a bundle of sexy, loud and raucous talent from across Australia, New Zealand and the rest of the world for what is set to be one hell of a party. The festival will hit Sydney with Chris Duke & The Royals, Dan Potthast, God God Dammit Dammit, The Bennies, Kujo Kings, Sublime With Billy, Roofdog, Phat Meegz, The Me Tys, Steel City Allstars, Jobstopper and Handball Death Match, with The Ska Boss DJing. Better known for his vocals with legendary ska punk band MU330, Dan Potthast is bound to drive the crowd crazy with his solo material. Returning for the second year running, The Bennies will be playing at all three of the festival's stops with fast high-hats, bouncing bass lines and face melting leads. https://youtube.com/watch?v=gbB-KLcV3kg
The team from World Movies Secret Cinema — where everything is secret, including the movie, including the location — have got in touch with some tips. Some frustratingly cryptic tips. What does it mean, guys? What does it mean???? 1. You won’t even know the place exists – but you might have strolled by. 2. Water is scarce but exists in some form. 3. Death sounds imminent, but you’ve never been safer. 4. You’ll be under surveillance the entire time, so you must ALWAYS be on your best behaviour. 5. For those who can’t do two things at once, no translator is required; the film is in English.
Sometimes a hankering for dumplings can only be satisfied by a trip to your local favourite spot, but if you've ever wanted to take your dumpling destiny into your own hands, Lotus is offering up the chance to learn the skill of making them yourself. Starting from Saturday, July 30, Lotus Dining Group's Double Bay outpost is hosting a monthly dumpling masterclass. Over two hours, attendees will learn to create lamb spring rolls, chicken and mushroom sui mai and crispy prawn wontons. Included in the $120 price point is a complimentary cocktail on arrival, your own Lotus apron, a dumpling-making kit, recipe cards and the invaluable knowledge of how to make your own Lotus goodies. Classes will be popping up going forward in Double Bay on the last Saturday of each month. Make sure you head to the Lotus website to reserve your spot beforehand. Images: Alana Dimou
Is your wardrobe overflowing with clothes that you don't wear? We've all been there, and we've all been too busy to do anything about it. Through its op shops, Australian Red Cross finds a new home for your pre-loved outfits, shoes and accessories, with proceeds going towards its charity efforts — but we all know that wanting to donate your old threads is one thing and finding the time to do it is another. That's why Australian Red Cross has once again partnered with Uber for its annual Uber x Red Cross Clothing Drive. When it launched in 2018, it collected over 43,500 kilograms of clothing in that first year alone, which saw clothing items worth an estimated $800,000 donated. And you'd best take the drive part literally, as the ride-sharing service will actually drive to your house, pick up your unwanted clothes and accessories, and deliver them to Red Cross Shops. Even better: it's not only super easy to take part, but it's free as well. Sydneysiders just make sure you're ready between 9am–4pm on Saturday, October 21. Once you've bagged up all of your old bits and pieces (items you'd happily give your best friend, and no toys, books, furniture or electrical objects) into a bundle that weighs no more than 20 kilograms, it's all incredibly simple. Open the Uber app during that seven-hour window, then find the 'package' option. After that, you need to click 'send a package', enter "Red Cross Shop" as the destination, and select one of the Red Cross Clothing Drive locations displayed An Uber driver will then stop outside your house, meaning that you just need to take your preloved goods out to their car. Voila, you've cleared out your closet and you've helped folks in need, all with the tap of a button.
Kitchen-Studio is the next Black Box Projects exhibition at MAY SPACE. Curated by Megan Fizell and featuring artists Nina Ross, Miku Sato, Hana Hoogedeure and Luke O'Donnell, Kawita Vatanajyankur, Hanne Nielsen and Birgit Johnsen, and Ana Prvački, the show turns the domestic kitchen into a performance space. Exploring themes such as the divide between public and private, female labour, collaboration, language, the body, and physical beauty, each artist takes inspiration from the everyday domestic gesture of preparing food. Underneath it all is the echo of Judith Butler's argument for gender as a cultural construction established through a 'stylized repetition of acts' — in this case, the repeated domestic gestures enacted day after day by women in their kitchens. What is the relationship between the kitchen, food preparation and the solidification of gender norms? And if an artist takes a space that is normally private and brings it into the realm of public performance? What happens then? Video artist Kawita Vatanajyankur in particularly is sure to capture your attention — her vibrantly hued staged performances explore the female body, its connection to domesticity, and most of all its capacity for strength and endurance. Image: Kawita Vatanajyankur, The Ice Shaver (2013).
When your Thursday is dragging a little, perk yourself right back up with a lunchtime excursion to cutting-edge gallery Firstdraft. One of our favourite galleries in the city, this democratic and daring artist-led initiative is all about experimental, ambitious and challenging art. The constantly rotating series of exhibitions includes works in a wide-variety of media, ranging from contemporary sculpture to video installations and everything in between. Spend 45 minutes here during your lunch hour discovering the December exhibitions, and you'll leave feeling all inspired, energised and ready to breeze through the rest of the afternoon at work.
Scouring the shelves, searching through piles of pre-loved reading material or records, then finding an absolute gem: it's one of the best feelings in the world. Maybe it's a book you love, and have always wanted to get your fingers on an old copy to call your own. Perhaps it's an old-school vinyl release that hasn't been re-pressed lately. Either way, this is the kind of experience you're likely to have at Grand Days Books & Records. Plus, this William Street spot sells vintage fashion as well — so you can dress the part. Images: Kitti Smallbone
How many people does it take for peace to be kept? Sydney Festival looks to answer this question with the installation of Keeping Peace, an inflatable sculpture that relies on the kindness and cooperation of the public to make sure it stays full of air throughout the festival's duration. The brainchild of New Zealand collective LGOP (Looks Good on Paper), Keeping Peace stands to act as a reminder that we can achieve more when we work together. So, if you see a bright purple peace sign in Barangaroo Reserve that's looking a little deflated and in need of some love, you know what to do.
Here's a great way to program a film series: pick movies starring all the leading men that graced teenage bedroom walls in the 80s, 90s and 00s. That mightn't have been how Golden Age Cinema and Bar actually put its latest season together, but the resulting lineup is called Heartthrobs — and Leo, Brad, Heath, Keanu and River are all accounted for. Wherefore art thou Baz Luhrmann's Romeo + Juliet? Here, starring Leonardo DiCaprio, and kicking off the season on Saturday, March 12. Come back two weeks later to swoon over a young Brad Pitt in Thelma and Louise, then fall head over heels for Heath Ledger in Two Hands the following week. The Saturday, April 9 session truly is something special, even within this 100-percent ace selection of flicks — because the Keanu Reeves and River Phoenix-starring My Own Private Idaho, aka one of the best movies either has ever made, is on the bill. Then, wrapping things up is the 80s heartthrob fest that is The Outsiders on Saturday, April 23, with a stacked cast that includes Matt Dillon, Rob Lowe, Emilio Estevez, Patrick Swayze, Tom Cruise, Ralph Macchio and C Thomas Howell.
Been a while since you cut some shapes on a dance floor? COVID-19 sure brought some Footloose energy, with dancing off the cards for quite some time. So, if you're looking to get your groove back, be sure to head to Wanna Dance — an art installation and street party in the streets of Haymarket. Taking over Parker Lane from June 8–26, you can expect disco lights and dance-inducing tracks coming from top local DJs, spinning everything from C-Pop, K-Pop and bangers from other corners of the globe. And, come June 11–13 and June 17–19, there'll be dance performances and demos, showcasing styles such as street dance, contemporary and hip hop. It's time to live out your wildest Kevin Bacon dreams. Image: Anna Kucera
This summer, imaginations young and old will run wild, as the interactive Future Park arrives at the Powerhouse Museum. Developed by teamLab, a collective of 'ultratechnologists' whose cutting-edge installations are currently captivating audiences in Beijing, Singapore, Tokyo, San Francisco and more, this immersive exhibition will see visitors build a huge collective artwork, inspired by the future. Across eight different interactive installations, Future Park is fuelled by human interaction, evolving in real time as visitors engage and leave their own mark on the artworks. Collaboration is nurtured and shared experiences are encouraged — and it's meant for kidults as well as kids. The Light Ball Orchestra installation invites visitors to manipulate a series of moveable balls to create music and light shows, while Sketch Town is a dynamic world populated by vehicles, buildings and townscapes visitors have drawn themselves. Sketch Town Papercraft will even see your drawings scanned into 3D sketches that can later be printed in 3D.
Lacking a little fizz in your life lately? Thankfully, a crew of local booze legends are teaming up to deliver a drinks festival with a serious amount of sparkle to see you safely through to summer. P&V Wine + Liquor Merchants and Mary's are joining forces with The Unicorn, taking over the pub on December 8, for the What A Fizzer tasting party dedicated to their favourite bubbly beverages. Head along to quaff your way through an expert curation of over 50 beers, wines and ciders — from Champagnes and small-batch local sparklings to pét-nats and wild-ferment brews. Tickets are an easy $50, which will score you tastings of everything on show, as well as a snack pack of Mary's goodness, starring a burger or fried chicken (with vegan options available). If you're looking to invest in some take-home fizz, you'll also find a pop-up P&V bottle store, stocked full of fizzy drops at discounted prices. The main event runs until 5pm, though the fun will continue well into the night, thanks to a special Unicorn x Mary's collaboration menu, secret cellar list and a swag of entertainment.
It's the news Sydney burger lovers have been waiting for, even if they didn't know it yet. After setting up shop in Burleigh Heads and recently branching out to Brisbane, Queensland's Ze Pickle is forging ahead with their expansion plans. Next stop: Surry Hills. Foveaux Street will be your new go-to burger locale — or it will be on a yet-to-be announced date in February next year. Sure, you can't quite start counting down the days until you can lock your chops around a Pablo Escoburger (that's ground wagyu beef, cheese, guacamole, queso, smoked jalapeños, corn chips and optional pulled pork), but you can make trying every one of their meat and bread combos your new year's resolution. Ze Pickle's mouthwatering menu also includes the crispy chicken and mac 'n' cheese waffle mayhem that is the 4.20AM, as well as the Triple Loco: an infamous tower of beef, cheese, bacon and pork in-between grilled cheese sandwiches. If your tastebuds aren't already trembling with excitement, a quick squiz at their Instagram feed will do the trick. Case in point: A photo posted by zepickle (@zepickle) on Jul 10, 2015 at 6:41pm PDT When it comes to Queensland's favourite greasy treats making inroads into New South Wales, Ze Pickle follows in the footsteps of Doughnut Time, which has just started opening stores around Sydney. However, that's not the only thing they have in common, with the two about to join forces to unleash the ultimate sweet and savoury mashup. The word you're looking for? It's yum. Ze Pickle's Sydney store will be opening at Shop 6, 17-51 Foveaux Street, Surry Hills sometime in February 2016. For more information, keep an eye on their Facebook page.
When an exhibition comes with a content warning, you know it's going to be thought-provoking. It's not like we haven't seen naked bodies in the Art Gallery of New South Wales before, so what makes Australian artist Pat Larter's work worthy of such advice? Frankly put, it's because Pat sets out to challenge us. The New South Wales artist questions the male gaze and the stereotypes of female desire and sexuality. And, in a practice spanning nearly three decades, the artist provokes reactions for her humorous and critical artworks across photography, film, video performance, collage and printmaking. [caption id="attachment_791297" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Pat Larter, Still from 'Get arted' (1981), from the Pat Larter archive. National Art Archive | Art Gallery of New South Wales, gift of Richard Larter 1999. Photo: Richard Larter. Copyright: Estate of Pat Larter / Richard Larter[/caption] This is her first solo exhibition in a public art museum, and the exhibition celebrates Pat as an artist drawing from her extensive archive. Expect to find joyful, cheeky, fiercely anti-establishment artworks that — yes — contain sexually explicit imagery, but also a lot of zest for life. Top images: 1. Pat Larter, 'Pat's anger' (1992). Art Gallery of New South Wales, gift of Frank Watters 2018. Donated through the Australian Government's Cultural Gifts Program. Copyright: Estate of Pat Larter. 2. Pat Larter, still from 'Artart Actions: Stock Exchange Crash' (1987), from the Pat Larter archive. National Art Archive | Art Gallery of New South Wales, gift of Richard Larter 1999. Photo: Richard Larter. Copyright: Estate of Pat Larter / Richard Larter.
