Something delightful has been happening in cinemas across the country. After months spent empty, with projectors silent, theatres bare and the smell of popcorn fading, Australian picture palaces are back in business — spanning both big chains and smaller independent sites in Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane. During COVID-19 lockdowns, no one was short on things to watch, of course. In fact, you probably feel like you've streamed every movie ever made, including new releases, comedies, music documentaries, Studio Ghibli's animated fare and Nicolas Cage-starring flicks. But, even if you've spent all your time of late glued to your small screen, we're betting you just can't wait to sit in a darkened room and soak up the splendour of the bigger version. Thankfully, plenty of new films are hitting cinemas so that you can do just that — and we've rounded up, watched and reviewed everything on offer this week. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1SEoi8r1Z4Y SUPERNOVA Stanley Tucci and Colin Firth aren't lazy, bad or bland actors. The former has an Oscar nomination for The Lovely Bones, the latter won for The King's Speech, and neither can be accused of merely playing the same character again and again. And yet, whenever either pops up on-screen, they bring a set of expectations with them — or, perhaps more accurately, they each instantly remind viewers of the traits that have served them so well over their respective four-decade careers. In features as diverse as The Devil Wears Prada and the Hunger Games films, Tucci has given a distinctive sense of flair and presence to his many parts, as well as his innate ability to appear bemused and sarcastic about life in general. Whether as Mr Darcy in Pride and Prejudice or as Mark Darcy in the Bridget Jones movies, Firth has enjoyed immense success playing reserved, introverted, dry-witted men who are more likely to ruminate stoically than to outwardly show much emotion. Teaming up in Supernova, both talents draw upon these characteristics once more, as writer/director Harry Macqueen (Hinterland) wants them to. But here's the thing about this pair of stars, who shine particularly bright in this affecting drama: far from ever settling into their own comfortable niches, they're frequently delving deeper, twisting in different directions and offering up untold surprises. A famed novelist less interested in putting pen to paper than in peering up at the stars, Tucci's Tusker knows how to defuse any scenario with his charm in Supernova, but it's apparent that he often uses that canny ability to avoid facing a number of difficulties. An acclaimed musician with an eagerly anticipated concert in the works, Firth's Sam often says little; however, the fact that he's grappling internally with feelings he can't quite do justice to in words always remains evident. Travelling around England's Lakes District, they're not just on an ordinary campervan holiday. Neither man has simply been whiling away their time before their long-awaited returns to performing and writing, either. With stops to see Sam's sister (Pippa Haywood, Four Kids and It) and her family, and to reunite with old friends, the couple are making the most of what time they have left together. Tusker is unwell, with early-onset dementia increasingly having an impact on not only his everyday life, but upon the shared existence they've treasured for decades. Read our full review. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ilNHPfOOeIs GUNDA Move over Babe, Piglet, Porky and Peppa. Thanks to monochrome-hued documentary Gunda, cinema has a brand new porcine star. Or several, to be exact; however, other than the eponymous sow, none of the attention-grabbing pigs in this movie are given names. If that feels jarring, that's because it breaks from film and television's usual treatment of animals. Typically on-screen, we see and understand the zoological beings we share this planet with as only humans can, filtering them through our own experience, perception and needs. We regard them as companions who become our trustiest and most reliable friends; as creatures who play important roles in our lives emotionally, physically and functionally; as anthropomorphised critters with feelings and traits so much like ours that it seems uncanny; and as worthy targets of deep observation or study. We almost never just let them be, though. Whether they're four-legged, furry, feathered or scaly, animals that grace screens big and small rarely allowed to exist free from our two-legged interference — or from our emotions, expectations or gaze. Gunda isn't like any other movie you've seen about all creatures great and small, but it can't ignore the shadow that humanity casts over its titular figure, her piglets, and the one-legged chicken and paired-off cows it also watches, either. It's shot on working farms, so it really doesn't have that luxury. Still, surveying these critters and their lives without narration or explanation, this quickly involving, supremely moving and deeply haunting feature is happy to let the minutiae of these creatures' existence say everything that it needs to. The delights and devastation alike are in the details, and the entire movie is filled with both. Filmmaker Victor Kossakovsky (Aquarela) looks on as Gunda's namesake gives birth, and as her offspring crawl hungrily towards her before they've even properly realised that they're now breathing. His film keeps peering their way as they squeal, explore and grow, and as they display their inquisitive, curious and sometimes mischievous personalities, too. Sometimes, this little family rolls around in the mud. At other times, they simply sleep, or Gunda takes the opportunity to enjoy some shut-eye while her piglets play. Whatever they're doing, and whenever and where, these pigs just going about their business, which the feature takes in frame by frame. In one of the documentary's interludes away from its porcine points of focus, the aforementioned chook hops about. Whether logs or twigs are involved, it too is just navigating its ordinary days. In the second of the movie's glimpses elsewhere, cattle trot and stand, and their routine couldn't seem more commonplace as well. Read our full review. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hbn8-Tpa3no AALTO Sometimes, a documentary doesn't need words, as Gunda wholeheartedly demonstrates. Aalto features plenty, all spoken as voiceover and delving into the life of great Finnish modernist architects Alvar and Aino Aalto; however, the film's visuals would've still kept viewers glued to the screen if not even a single syllable was uttered. For the bulk of the doco's duration, savvy director Virpi Suutari (Entrepreneur) fills the screen with the couple's handiwork. Furniture from the 1930s onwards and buildings up until the 1970s are seen in loving detail, with the feature's imagery zooming in on the former and walking through and soaring above the latter. Some might be familiar, especially on the homewares side — IKEA has taken a few cues from some of their designs over the years — but viewers new and well-acquainted alike will find much to catch their eye. With its smooth bends and sculptural look, the bentwood Paimio Chair is a thing of unshakeable beauty. The unpredictable curves in the pair's various wavy vases are just as vivid to behold. Combining an undulating appearance with rough bricks that Alvar complimented as "the lousiest in the world", Baker House at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology is far more striking than any other college dormitory. And there's minimalistic grace in the buildings at the University of Jyväskylä, which are among the few sites seen in the feature with people in them. To see these pieces and places, and others like them, is to be submerged into the Aaltos' way of viewing the world. Aalto doesn't just stare at the marvellous items designed by its namesakes, though. Suutari also draws upon home videos to tell their story, uses multiple unseen narrators to unfurl and comment upon their tale, and gives voice to letters penned between the pair whenever one travelled away from the other. Indeed, this isn't just a professional portrait, but a personal one, too — and a film made with admiration but not devotion. While Alvar became a world-renowned star, he isn't the sole reason that Aalto remains a famous design name. He also wasn't without his flaws. Accordingly, Aalto doesn't blindly sing his praises, peddle stock-standard male genius tropes or solely peer his way. Yes, the documentary's title mirrors its focus. Aino was a pivotal part of his architectural practice; "regardless of how the drawings are signed, they clearly worked as a team," the film's narration offers. After Aino's death, Alvar's second wife Elissa, another architect, also proved just as crucial. It would've been easy to simply worship Alvar, but Suutari cannily broadens the story around his work — and makes a better, and more interesting and engaging doco as a result. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzvwJiBFhSg CREATION STORIES Whenever someone gets 'Wonderwall' stuck in their head, they partly have Alan McGee to thank. The Scottish music industry executive and Creation Records co-founder happened to be at the same Glasgow bar as Oasis in 1993, and saw the band being turned away by management despite their claim that they were booked to play a gig. When the Manchester-based group was eventually allowed in, McGee checked out their set. He quickly offered them a recording contract and, yes, history was made. His impact upon the music world doesn't end there, either, with McGee managing The Jesus and Mary Chain, putting out records by Primal Scream and My Bloody Valentine, and getting involved in the acid house scene as well. That means that Creation Stories has much to cover. The lively biopic initially frames its episodic jumps through McGee's life via a chat between the exec (Ewen Bremner, T2: Trainspotting) and a journalist (Suki Waterhouse, The Broken Hearts Gallery), but that's just an excuse to leap back into his memories. From there, the film pinballs from his unhappy teenage years with his doting mother (Siobhan Redmond, Alice Through the Looking Glass) and stern father (Richard Jobson, Tube Tales), and his early attempts to soar to music stardom in London, to Creation's many financial ups and downs and his involvement in politics. Creation Stories is adapted from McGee's autobiography of the same name, with Trainspotting author Irvine Welsh and playwright Dean Cavanagh penning the script; however, it often feels as if McGee himself saw Rocketman and asked for his own version. That sensation comes through stylistically, thanks to the frenetic pace, vibrant splashes of colour and ample scenes of drug-fuelled partying. It's also evident in the impressionistic approach applied to McGee's life, telling a tale that mightn't always be 100-percent accurate in every minute detail but is wholly designed to capture the wild mood and vibe perfectly. Both movies boast Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrel stars as their directors, too, with Nick Moran (The Kid) jumping behind the lens here. And, the two films also benefit from standout lead performances, with Bremner as stellar as he's ever been on-screen. Indeed, the actor best known as hapless heroin addict Spud couldn't be more important in Creation Stories. So much of the film's chaotic ride through McGee's highlights and lowlights rests upon Bremner's larger-than-life portrayal, peppy presence, mile-a-minute gift of the gab and deceptive charisma, so its central talent was always going to make or break the film. There's no shaking its general adherence to the rock biopic genre, though, but there's also no doubting its alluring energy. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LLg86R4Ay-Y THE UNHOLY The Exorcist was not an easy movie to make, as exceptional documentary Leap of Faith: William Friedkin on The Exorcist made clear. But over the past four decades, the horror masterpiece has proven a very easy film to emulate again and again — or, to try to ape in anything that pairs religion and scares, at least. Copying it is nowhere near the same as matching it, of course. That's especially the case when most one-note flicks that attempt the feat simply think that crosses, creepy females and stilted, unnatural body movements are all that it takes. The Unholy is the latest example, to uninspired, unengaging, unoriginal, unconvincing and thoroughly unsurprising results. Adapted from the 1983 James Herbert novel Shrine by seasoned screenwriter turned first-time feature director Evan Spiliotopoulos (Charlie's Angels, Beauty and the Beast, The Huntsman: Winter's War), the movie's premise has promise: what if a site of a supposed vision of the Virgin Mary and subsequent claimed miracles, such as Lourdes in France and Fatima in Portugal, was targeted by a sinister spirit instead? But, despite also boasting the always-charismatic Jeffrey Dean Morgan (The Walking Dead) as its lead, all that eventuates here is a dull, derivative and not even remotely unsettling shocker of a horror flick. The fact that The Evil Dead and Drag Me to Hell's Sam Raimi is one of its producers delivers The Unholy's biggest scare. Looking constantly perplexed but still proving one of the best things about the film, Morgan plays disgraced journalist Gerry Fenn. After losing his fame and acclaim when he was caught fabricating stories, he now makes $150 per assignment chasing the slightest of flimsy supernatural leads. His current line of work brings him to the small Massachusetts town inhabited by Father Hagan (William Sadler, Bill & Ted Face the Music) and his niece Alice (Cricket Brown, Dukeland), the latter of whom is deaf. Thanks to a barren tree, a creepy doll, an eerie chapter of history and a strange run-in with Gerry, however, she can soon suddenly hear and speak. She says that can see the Virgin Mary, too. Swiftly, word about her story catches the church, media and public's attention. Even if Spiliotopoulos had kept the novel's title, it'd remain obvious that all isn't what it seems — the film starts nearly two centuries ago with a woman being burned alive at the aforementioned tree, so nothing here is subtle. But instead of pairing an exploration of the dangers of having faith without question with demonic bumps and jumps, The Unholy embraces cliches with the same passion that satan stereotypically has for fire. The cheap-looking visuals, Cary Elwes' (Black Christmas) wavering accent and the bored look on co-star Katie Aselton's (Synchronic) face hardly help, either. If you're wondering what else is currently screening in cinemas — or has been lately — check out our rundown of new films released in Australia on January 1, January 7, January 14, January 21 and January 28; February 4, February 11, February 18 and February 25; and March 4, March 11, March 18 and March 25; and April 1 and April 8. You can also read our full reviews of a heap of recent movies, such as Nomadland, Pieces of a Woman, The Dry, Promising Young Woman, Summerland, Ammonite, The Dig, The White Tiger, Only the Animals, Malcolm & Marie, News of the World, High Ground, Earwig and the Witch, The Nest, Assassins, Synchronic, Another Round, Minari, Firestarter — The Story of Bangarra, The Truffle Hunters, The Little Things, Chaos Walking, Raya and the Last Dragon, Max Richter's Sleep, Judas and the Black Messiah, Girls Can't Surf, French Exit, Saint Maud, Godzilla vs Kong, The Painter and the Thief, Nobody, The Father, Willy's Wonderland, Collective and Voyagers.
UPDATE, January 27, 2021: Savage is available to stream via Stan and Amazon Video. Tattoos covering his cheeks, nose and forehead, a scowl affixed almost as permanently, but raw sorrow lurking in his eyes, Jake Ryan cuts a striking sight in Savage. He's a walking, drinking, growling, hammer-swinging advertisement for toxic masculinity — how it looks at its most stereotypical extreme, and how it often masks pain and struggle — and the performance is the clear highlight of the Home and Away, Wolf Creek and Underbelly actor's resume to-date. Playing a character named Danny but also known as Damage, Ryan also perfectly epitomises the New Zealand gang drama he's in, which similarly wraps in-your-face packaging around a softer, richer core. Savage's protagonist and plot have had plenty of predecessors over the years in various ways, from Once Were Warriors' exploration of violence, to Mean Streets' chronicle of crime-driven youth, plus the bikie warfare of TV's Sons of Anarchy and even Aussie film 1%, but there's a weightiness on display here that can't just be wrung from a formula. That said, although first-time feature director and screenwriter Sam Kelly takes inspiration from NZ's real-life gangs, and from true tales from within their ranks spanning three decades, Savage does noticeably follow a predictable narrative path. Viewers first meet Danny in 1989, when he's the second-in-charge of the Savages, which is overseen by his lifelong best friend Moses (John Tui, Fast & Furious: Hobbs & Shaw, Solo: A Star Wars Story) but is also under threat by rank-and-file members agitating for a leadership challenge. In-fighting, and Moses' sheer desperation to remain on top, aren't Danny's biggest issues, however. Whether imposing the ramifications of being disloyal upon a younger colleague or being unable to relinquish control in an intimate situation, he's both tightly wound and silently aching, and he's also unable to shake the cumulative effect of all the factors and decisions that have led him to this testosterone-saturated point. A series of flashbacks, each fittingly moody and tense, explain why Danny is in his current situation physically, mentally and emotionally. The film first jumps to 1965, when he's nine (played by Pete's Dragon's Olly Presling), victimised by his overbearing father and sent to juvenile detention, where he initially meets and befriends a young, wild-haired Moses (Lotima Pome'e). The circumstances leading to Danny's stint in custody and his treatment while he's there each leave an imprint, with Moses swiftly becoming the only person that he can count on. Skipping forward to 1972, when the pair are in their late teens (played by James Matamua and Haanz Fa'avae-Jackson), they establish the Savages — and, although it gives them a sense of belonging that's absent elsewhere, they're soon caught in a Wellington turf war with a rival gang. Yes, all of the above narrative elements have a well-worn feel to them, but a blandly, routinely by-the-numbers flick isn't the end result here. Aided by suitably gritty and restless camerawork that mirrors Danny's inner turmoil, the film packs a punch when it lets that unease fester in quiet moments. It's also particularly astute when honing in on Danny and Moses's complicated friendship, and how pivotal it is throughout their constantly marginalised lives. There's never any doubting that Savage is a movie about family, including the traumas they can inflict, the hurt that comes with being torn away from loved ones at a young age, the kinship found in understanding pals and the concept of brotherhood in gangs, and the feature is at its most affecting when it lets these truths emanate naturally. Kelly does like to stress the point, though, and to do overtly. Indeed, the clunkiest parts of Savage involve Danny's yearning to see his mother and his tussles with his older brother Liam (played by Jack William Parker as a teen and Seth Flynn as an adult). Every year Danny, stands outside his childhood home, looks on at his parents and siblings and, unable to step into the yard, notches a mark on the fence outside — and it's an instantly and repeatedly overdone touch. When he's reunited with Liam, it's because the two brothers are in opposing crews, another obvious, template-esque inclusion that's far less effective or moving than seeing how Danny navigates the gang he has chosen as his new family. Unsurprisingly, Danny's gang life is brutal and violent, which Savage doesn't shy away from in a visual sense. Tonally, the film aims for Shakespearian levels of tragedy, too, as Sons of Anarchy did before it. But while most of the feature hits its marks, draws viewers in and keeps them interested, the movie's biggest force and asset is always Ryan. Tui also proves a commanding screen presence, as does first-timer Alex Raivaru as the latter's nemesis, while young Presling and Pome'e share a convincing rapport. When an actor plays the kind of immediately imposing role that Ryan is tasked with, however, how they handle the subtler side of the character is pivotal — and audiences can feel Danny's bubbling distress even when he's the most formidable figure figure in the room. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NK3eDfkXBzg Top image: Domino Films, Matt Grace.
Exclaiming "I'm already a star. You don't become a star: you either are one or you aren't. I am!" to get into the hottest party in Los Angeles, aspiring 1920s actor Nellie LaRoy (Margot Robbie, Amsterdam) has ambition. Gracing the same Golden Age soirée after ending his latest marriage with an overplayed joke that could've sprung from Inglourious Basterds, veteran leading man Jack Conrad (Brad Pitt, Bullet Train) wouldn't have gotten where he is without the same drive and determination. And, helping the shindig be the only place to be, including wrangling an elephant for the night's entertainment (a pachyderm that empties its bowels on everyone pushing it up a hill no less), Manny Torres (Diego Calva, Narcos: Mexico) has the eagerness to do something — anything — in show business. Meet Babylon's zeal-dripping on-screen threesome, a trio matched only in their quest to rocket sky-high as the man conjuring them up: jazz-loving, La La Land Oscar-winning, Tinseltown-adoring writer/director Damien Chazelle. As Babylon unfurls across its hefty 189-minute running time, it takes a colossal heap of ambition — perhaps as immense as the pile of cocaine that Nellie gravitates towards inside the party — to make it or even fake it in the film industry. For his fifth feature, and first since 2018's First Man, Chazelle waves around his own as enthusiastically as he possibly can. Even just considering his hefty list of conspicuous influences makes that clear, with the filmmaker unshackling his inner Baz Luhrmann, Martin Scorsese, Paul Thomas Anderson and David Lynch, to name a mere few overt nods. The Great Gatsby, Goodfellas, The Wolf of Wall Street, Boogie Nights, Magnolia, Mulholland Drive: swirl them together with Kenneth Anger's 1959 publication Hollywood Babylon, plus everything from Sunset Boulevard to Hail, Caesar!, and that's just the beginning of Chazelle's plans. The end result also makes for a relentless and ravenous movie that's always a lot, not just in length, but is dazzling (and also very funny) when it clicks. That elephant crap doesn't just make quite the opening, as splattered from a visible opening. Beneath the glitz and glamour, and aiding all things shiny and starry to appear that way, lurks something far less seductive — so Babylon posits from the outset, then keeps pulling back the curtain like it's The Wizard of Oz. Before the film's first 15 minutes are up, it has also sprayed urine, waded through orgies, thrown around furniture, thrust about drugs and danced frenzied dances (Robbie does an entrancing one, No Time to Die cinematographer Linus Sandgren does another with his soaring and swooping camerawork, and Chazelle's usual composer Justin Hurwitz sets the bouncy tone with his Golden Globe-winning score, then keeps doing so). Also, before the initial revelry recedes, Manny is smitten with Nellie, while she has an acting job the next day. Hollywood: it's where shit explodes and snakes are wrestled literally and metaphorically, and where enough wishes are granted on-screen and behind the scenes to keep everyone returning for more. In the rest of its first act, Babylon is a filmmaking western; to spend time on a silent-era set here is to gallop across cinema's frontier. Nellie is a natural, and feted for crying on cue (that she's getting her start when big gestures and performances are a necessity also assists). Manny nabs an opportunity as well, his efforts to secure a replacement camera for a pivotal epic shot before a moody director loses his light instantly one of the film's most hilarious stretches. While the preceding party was a vibe, Babylon's best bursts through this madcap on-the-lot day. Simply surveying the packed-together sets, movies made next to movies upon movies, is a delight — and the pacing, zippily juggling Nellie, Manny and Jack's exploits, is among the picture's tightest. With the feature kicking off in 1926, though, the noisy, frenzied chaos that buzzes in this sequence has a talkie-sparked expiration date. For the fools who dream, Chazelle worships stories of artists chasing lifelong fantasies and meeting stark realities, with Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench, Whiplash, La La Land and streaming series The Eddy all leading to Babylon. He's equally fond of Tinseltown's favourite tales about Tinseltown: the path-crossing of new starlets and established players as change reshapes the business forever, as a couple of A Star Is Born versions, The Artist and the masterpiece that is Singin' in the Rain have all covered. It's the boldest of moves that any director can make to fashion a film as a copy or an origin story to the latter, or both, but that's where Chazelle's ambition brilliantly heads. So, with the advent of synchronised sound, and as Manny keeps working his way up, cue Jack striving to maintain his fame and Nellie struggling with her New Jersey voice. Babylon doesn't say anything new — when you're openly going where so many flicks and filmmakers have gone before, is there anything much new to say? — but it does pull off the Luhrmann-esque feat of making its style part of its substance. This has to be a flashy, energetic, excess-laden affair, selling the allure that draws Nellie, Jack and Manny in, plus the emptiness behind it. Babylon has to be slick but messy, decadent but corrosive, and affectionate but clear-eyed about Hollywood's ills, and a heady, hectic experience. It has to be jam-packed at the same time, but it could've been that and given Li Jun Li (Devils) and Jovan Adepo (The Stand) more to do. Their characters, Anna May Wong clone Lady Fay Zhu and talented trumpeter Sidney Palmer, traverse a rise-and-fall trajectory as well. They're exuberant, fascinating, and meant to demonstrate how Asian, Black and queer figures were pushed aside. To genuinely address that point, though, they're deserving of greater focus and a weightier part in Babylon's narrative. Among the trio receiving the bulk of Chazelle's attention, Robbie is exhilarating; understanding how Nellie demands the eyeballs of everyone in her orbit is easy. Nuanced layers of pain and sorrow also linger in her non-stop portrayal when she does slow down, or sometimes glistens in her eyes alone. Her Once Upon a Time in Hollywood co-star Pitt remains in that movie's mode, happily and fittingly so — and relative newcomer Calva is terrific as Manny. Add in a well-cast Jean Smart (Hacks) as a Louella Parsons- and Hedda Hopper-inspired gossip queen, plus Tobey Maguire getting villainous and channelling Alfred Molina, and Babylon keeps stacking in moving pieces as much as moving pictures. On that, this flick doesn't end subtly. But, ambition splashing heavily again, it also has its big finale work as an ode as much as a lament.
You'd think at some point, Sydneysiders would ease up on the insatiable hunt for top notch American nosh. There's plenty around — from Black Betty BBQ to Two and Twenty, Hartsyard to Cheekyburger, Hinky Dinks to Brooklyn Standard. But there's a new kid on the block taking shaking things up with a more southern approach, a la Miss Peaches. Surly's barbecue joint and Americana bar has opened in Surry Hills, ready to serve up all the fried chicken and cornbread you could eat without unbuttoning your pants. Sitting pretty on Campbell Street beside Zoo Emporium's vintage fashion haven, Surly's is taking over the space formerly inhabited by unconventional BYO-and-set menu eatery Table for 20 and their summer Sticky Bar upstairs. It's the brainchild of Parlour Group director Brody Petersen (Riley Street Garage, The Stuffed Beaver, The Flying Squirrel) and chef Brendhan Bennison. With wooden benches, rock and roll music, Americana apparel and sports playing all night long on big screens aplenty, Surly's could be one of the most authentic looking American dive bars in Sydney so bar. Nosh-wise, this is set to be some straight-forward, like-Mama-makes southern grub here. There are four types of fries (crinkle cut, surly spicy, bacon cheese, chilli cheese), alongside Buffalo hot wings, chili con queso dip and jalapeno nachos. There's beef, veggie and Cajun chicken burgers, and some kind of deep fried onion on the menu. But the real big guns sure to draw curious Americana enthusiasts will be the fried chicken served with either mac n' cheese, southern green beans, red potato salad, coleslaw or fries; and the American barbecue plates with your choice of pulled pork, pork spare ribs, beef ribs, beef brisket or chicken thigh — served with two sides of homemade cornbread. What's on tap to wash this all down? American beers aplenty, alongside local go-tos, and enough bourbon to grow hairs on any chest. Cocktails range from your standard Margarita (served salty and on the rocks) to Bloody Caesars, Dark and Stormies, an old version of the Arnie Palmer, the John Daly ("ciggy gut and golf club not included") and something called The Dish-Licker (a classic Greyhound but with an Aussie twist). Surly's opens April 14. Maybe hold back on a big lunch before you roll on in. Find Surly's at 182 Campbell Street, Surry Hills.
Glittering Sydney Harbour views, stellar cocktails containing long pours of a delight-inducing tipple and Client Liaison maintaining sky-high vibes with their phenomenal pop tunes — all just the starters at Glenmorangie's upcoming Delicious and Wonderful World. On Friday, August 26, the award-winning liquor-maker is inviting you to explore the world through its honey-coloured glasses. After a 200-metre ascent from the Sydney Tower lobby, guests will be welcomed to Bar 83's style-heavy altitude. Glenmorangie's stand-out drops will take centre place in three cocktails (a mission led by Moët Hennesy's spirit specialist Kurtis Bosley) and creatively charged desserts by Reynold Poernomo (of KOI Dessert Bar, pictured below) will circulate the room. TLDR? You're invited to a bespoke coming together of bright lights, magic musicality and gastronomic wonder — set to deliver a delicious and wonderful night to remember. Tickets are limited, so consider yourself warned. The sips include one spotlighting X by Glenmorangie — the single malt crafted especially for mixing — and another that sees Glenmorangie's Original shaken with fresh passionfruit and lime. A sneak peek of what's alongside? Pear of Honey, Poernomo's dessert that marries honeyed maple cream with pear-ginger gel and roasted milk chocolate ganache. We hear that specific sweet treat will be available long after the night of nights. Delicious and Wonderful is taking over Bar 83 on Friday, August 26. For more information and to grab your tickets, head to the website. Images: Tanya Zouev
Imitation may be considered the sincerest form of flattery, but when one movie spends its duration seemingly trying to ape another, it also proves one of the most grating methods of filmmaking. Staring at its grey colour scheme, listening to its moody score, jumping along with its shifting timeline and unpacking its narration-heavy, twist-filled story, there's little doubt that The Girl on the Train is trying to follow in the footsteps of another recent adaptation of a page-turning novel. Alas, this movie is no Gone Girl — although thanks to its own stylistic choices, the comparison isn't going to go away any time soon. Working from Paula Hawkins' best-selling book, The Girl on the Train intertwines the plights of three women in a whodunnit thriller, while attempting to dissect — and find commonality within — the many roles women are forced to play in life. Sadly, with a flimsy script by Erin Cressida Wilson doing the source material few favours, director Tate Taylor fails to live up to expectations with this hotly anticipated adaptation. Instead, the film alternates between serious and trashy, without finding the right balance between the two. So it is that alcoholic divorcee and New York-based Englishwoman Rachel (Emily Blunt) rides the train every day, staring out the window at people she assumes are happier than she is. In the case of her ex-husband Tom (Justin Theroux), his new wife Anna (Rebecca Ferguson) and their baby, she knows that's the case. When it comes to their neighbours Megan (Haley Bennett) and Scott (Luke Evans), she's just guessing. But when Megan goes missing on the very same day that Rachel spots her on her porch with another man, questions start being asked. Before long, some of the hardest ones are directed at Rachel herself, who was seen drunk in the area but can't piece her memory together. Characters peering into the seemingly perfect lives of others is a concept that has fuelled many a movie in years gone by. And yet, you can add a distinctive lack of Hitchcockian intrigue to the list of ways that The Girl on the Train disappointments. Narrative developments are clearly foreshadowed, clichés fly thick and fast, and attempts to bust gender stereotypes remain superficial at best. In this light, even appreciating the film's place in voyeurism-obsessed cinema history offers little solace. Thank goodness for the quality cast. Whether acting erratic like Blunt, suspicious like Ferguson or furtive and discontent like Bennett, none of the picture's lead actors are quite at their best, but at least they're reliable, which makes them the best thing the film has going for it. That said, when paying close attention to how Blunt plays boozy becomes more interesting than the story itself, you know something has gone seriously wrong. There's an interesting-enough thriller at the heart of The Girl on the Train. Unfortunately, we never get to see it.
As everyone takes on paleo diets and embraces kale and cacao like they're going out of style, it can be easy to forget the real purpose of good nutrition. No, it's not to impress people with buzzwords or nom on superfoods as a fashion statement — it's about your health and happiness. In an effort to bring this message back to the fore, Australia's first "happiness restaurant" has opened in Melbourne. With chemicals on their mind and delicious fruit on their plates, Serotonin Dealer has swung open the doors of their Madden Grove establishment, Serotonin Eatery, in Richmond. In case you missed that class in high school biology, serotonin is a chemical released by your body that produces the feeling of happiness. There a number of ways you can increase your serotonin levels — get a good night's sleep, maybe grab a little sunlight, cut down on your coffee and booze — but it's also got a lot to do with your food. Despite what you may secretly hope, a big binge at Maccas isn't going to make your body very happy. What we really crave is raw, chemical-free, plant-based foods. This is what Serotonin Eatery will be focusing on. "I don't believe in diets," says founder Emily Arundel. "I believe that everyone should just be aware of what they are putting into their bodies and make the right choices to lead a healthy life." Accordingly, Arundel's cafe will serve fresh juices, smoothies and fibre-rich treats for breakfast, lunch and weekly set dinners. But it won't stop there. With personal trainers and yoga instructors on site for daily morning classes, Serotonin Eatery will be an interactive, inclusive one-stop health shop — a welcome effort to curb Australia's climbing rates of obesity, depression and anxiety. Find Serotonin Eatery at 52 Madden Grove, Burnley. Open Wed-Fri 7am-4pm and Sat-Sun 8am-4pm. Images: Didriks via photopin cc, Serotonin Dealer.
Something delightful has been happening in cinemas in some parts of the country. After numerous periods spent empty during the pandemic, with projectors silent, theatres bare and the smell of popcorn fading, picture palaces in many Australian regions are back in business — including both big chains and smaller independent sites in Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane. During COVID-19 lockdowns, no one was short on things to watch, of course. In fact, you probably feel like you've streamed every movie ever made, including new releases, Studio Ghibli's animated fare and Nicolas Cage-starring flicks. But, even if you've spent all your time of late glued to your small screen, we're betting you just can't wait to sit in a darkened room and soak up the splendour of the bigger version. Thankfully, plenty of new films are hitting cinemas so that you can do just that — and we've rounded up, watched and reviewed everything on offer this week. YOU WON'T BE ALONE What's more terrifying: knowing that death is inevitable, because our fragile flesh will fail us all eventually and inescapably, or accepting that little we ever sense can truly be trusted given that everything in life changes and evolves? In horror movies, both notions stalk through the genre like whichever slasher/killer/malevolent force any filmmaker feels like conjuring up in any particular flick — and in You Won't Be Alone, the two ideas shudder through one helluva feature debut by Macedonian Australian writer/director Goran Stolevski. An expiration date isn't just a certainty within this film's frames. It's part of a non-stop cycle that sees transformation as just as much of a constant. You Won't Be Alone is a poetically shot, persistently potent picture about witches but, as the best unsettling movies are, it's also about so much that thrums through the existence we all know. Viewers mightn't be living two centuries back and dancing with a sorceress, but they should still feel the film's truths in their bones. First, however, a comparison. Sometimes a resemblance is so obvious that it simply has to be uttered and acknowledged, and that's the case here. Stolevski's film, the first of two by him in 2022 — MIFF's opening-night pick Of an Age is the other — boasts lyrical visuals, especially of nature, that instantly bring the famously rhapsodic aesthetics favoured by Terrence Malick (The Tree of Life, A Hidden Life) to mind. Its musings on the nature of life, and human nature as well, easily do the same. Set long ago, lingering in villages wracked by superstition and exploring a myth about a witch, You Won't Be Alone conjures up thoughts of Robert Eggers' The Witch, too. Indeed, if Malick had directed that recent favourite, the end product might've come close to this entrancing effort. Consider Stolevski's feature the result of dreams conjured up with those two touchstones in his head, though, rather than an imitator. The place: Macedonia. The time: the 19th century. The focus: a baby chosen by the Wolf-Eateress (Anamaria Marinca, The Old Guard) to be her offsider. Actually, that's not the real beginning of anyone's tale here in the broader scheme of things — and this is a movie that understands that all of life feeds into an ongoing bigger picture, as it always has and always will — but the infant's plight is as good an entry point as any. The child's distraught mother Yoana (Kamka Tocinovski, Angels Fallen) pleads for any other result than losing her newborn. You Won't Be Alone's feared figure has the ability to select one protege, then to bestow them with her otherworldly skills, and she's determined to secure her pick. That said, she does agree to a bargain. She'll let the little one reach the age of 16 first, but Old Maid Maria, as the Wolf-Eateress is also known, won't forget to claim her prize when the years pass. Nevena (Sara Klimoska, Black Sun) lives out that formative period in a cave, in her mum's attempt to stave off her fate — and with all that resides beyond her hiding spot's walls glimpsed only through a hole up high. Then the Wolf-Eateress comes calling, as she promised she would. From there, Nevena's initiation into the world — of humans, and of her physically and emotionally scarred mentor — is unsurprisingly jarring. Her transition from the care and protection of her "whisper-mama" to the kill-to-survive ruthlessness of her new "witch-mama" disappoints the latter, soon leaving the girl on her own. Still, the need to hunt, devour and mutate has already taken hold, even if Nevena is left fending for herself as she shapeshifts between animals and other humans. With Noomi Rapace (Lamb), Alice Englert (The Power of the Dog) and Carloto Cotta (The Tsugua Diaries) also among the cast, You Won't Be Alone turns Nevena's curiosity-driven experiences of life, love, loss, identity, desire, pain, envy and power into an unforgettable, mesmerising and thoughtful gothic horror fable — charting switches and the stories that come with them with each metamorphosis. Read our full review. If you're wondering what else is currently screening in Australian cinemas — or has been lately — check out our rundown of new films released in Australia on June 2, June 9, June 16, June 23 and June 30; and July 7, July 14, July 21 and July 28; August 4, August 11, August 18 and August 25; and September 1, September 8 and September 15. You can also read our full reviews of a heap of recent movies, such as Mothering Sunday, Jurassic World Dominion, A Hero, Benediction, Lightyear, Men, Elvis, Lost Illusions, Nude Tuesday, Ali & Ava, Thor: Love and Thunder, Compartment No. 6, Sundown, The Gray Man, The Phantom of the Open, The Black Phone, Where the Crawdads Sing, Official Competition, The Forgiven, Full Time, Murder Party, Bullet Train, Nope, The Princess, 6 Festivals, Good Luck to You, Leo Grande, Crimes of the Future, Bosch & Rockit, Fire of Love, Beast, Blaze, Hit the Road, Three Thousand Years of Longing, Orphan: First Kill, The Quiet Girl, Flux Gourmet, Bodies Bodies Bodies, Moonage Daydream, Ticket to Paradise and Clean.
One of the world's best chefs has teamed up with the legends at OzHarvest to convert a 100-year-old Surry Hills home into Refettorio OzHarvest Sydney, an eatery with the goal of feeding those in need. Massimo Bottura is the culinary powerhouse behind three Michelin-starred restaurant Osteria Francescana, which has previously claimed the top spot on the prestigious World's 50 Best Restaurants list. Bottura has set up Refettorios in cities across Europe, North America and South America in collaboration with his not-for-profit organisation Food for Soul. Refettorio OzHarvest Sydney is his first venture in Australia and is set to open on Crown Street from Thursday, February 24, providing free-of-charge lunches to Sydneysiders in need of food assistance Tuesday to Friday. The restaurant was initially teased in 2019, but was delayed due to COVID-19 according to OzHarvest Founder and CEO Ronni Kahn AO. "It has always been my dream to open a venue where vulnerable people can enjoy good food in exquisite surroundings and be treated with dignity and respect," Kahn said. "When I first met Massimo, it was like two meteors colliding and the result has helped this dream come true!" Bottura mirrored this sentiment, "When I met Ronni, I knew OzHarvest was the perfect partner for the first Refettorio in Australia — we have the same passion, determination and goodwill which you need to get a project like this off the ground!" The Surry Hills eatery will apply OzHarvest's zero-waste policy to its lunches, rescuing ingredients that may have gone to waste and using them to create gourmet meals. The venue can seat up to 50 diners and will offer up a continually changing menu based on the produce available that week. "It's a warm hug we give our guests," Bottura says. "When people ask what a Refettorio is, I describe it as a cultural project that shares beauty and hospitality in a different way, where we treat our guests like we do at our restaurants." When the restaurant is not being used to serve patrons, the space will be used to run education programs through OzHarvest and will be offered to local charities. The wider Sydney community will also have the chance to experience the restaurant later in the year through a series of events and neighbourhood dinners. If you'd like to lend a helping hand to Refettorio OzHarvest Sydney you can apply to volunteer or donate to OzHarvest via the organisation's website. Refettorio OzHarvest Sydney will open at 481 Crown Street, Surry Hills on Thursday, February 24. It will be open to anyone facing food insecurity midday–2.30pm Tuesday–Friday. Images: Nikki To
If an early 20th-century Jewish immigrant found himself walking around in 2019, what would he think of the world? That question comes with a flipside, of course, because it's equally valid to wonder how today's folks would react in response. With Seth Rogen starring as a ditch-digging, rat-catching new arrival from Eastern Europe to Brooklyn, these are a couple of the queries pondered by An American Pickle. It's the latest in a long line of comedies that trifle with time while doubling as time capsules, and it falls firmly from a familiar mould. Some such flicks send teens to the past via Deloreans and phone booths, as seen in the Back to the Future and Bill & Ted franchises. Others focus on people from another era grappling with modern living, as the likes of Encino Man and Blast From the Past demonstrated. Yes, these concepts were particularly popular in the 80s and 90s — but no matter when they flicker across our screens, they do two things: serve up a snapshot of the attitudes and norms prevalent when they're made, and explore how current perspectives intersect with those gone by. That's true of An American Pickle, and overtly so, with seeing, examining and giggling at the contrast between century-old ways and contemporary ideas a considerable part of the film. Not only that, but this Simon Rich-penned adaptation of his own short story Sell Out does all of the above broadly and blatantly — pointing out that big, bushy beards have become hipster beacons, for example, and that much has progressed since the 1900s. Consequently, there's no avoiding just how slight An American Pickle is. Its protagonist might fall into a vat of brine, get sealed in, then emerge in a new millennium, but this movie isn't diving deep. Thankfully, mixed up with all the obvious jokes are two thoughtful performances, both by Rogen, that help the film interrogate the push and pull between the past and the present in a moving fashion. Rogen plays Herschel Greenbaum, a new arrival to US with his wife Sarah (Succession's Sarah Snook), after the pair leave their home of Schlupsk to escape Russian Cossacks and chase a better life. Rogen also steps into the shoes of app developer Ben Greenbaum, Herschel's great-grandson and only living descendant when he awakens in his preserved (and presumably extra salty) state. The two men are the same age, and look alike. That said, they sport differences beyond Herschel's facial hair and Ben's technological know-how. It's the usual generational divide, as instantly recognisable to everyone watching. The elder Greenbaum is devoted to his family and faith, and is horrified that his sole remaining relative doesn't appear as fussed about either, while Ben gets increasingly frustrated with his great-grandpa's know-it-all-approach, bluntness and incessant meddling. Rich gives the two men more reasons to argue, and for Ben to start plotting Herschel's downfall. An app that rates companies on their ethics, an artisanal pickle business that becomes a viral hit and a towering billboard for vodka all factor into their feud. So too does Ben's willingness to capitalise upon Herschel's inherent ignorance of 21st-century minutiae, and the proud and stubborn Herschel's insistence upon staying set in his ways. The details are almost superfluous and, as the narrative keeps picking low-hanging comic fruit, they feel that way in the movie as well. Herschel upends Ben's business plans with some unethical behaviour, and Ben tricks Herschel into spouting his dated and offensive opinions on social media, but there's never any doubt that it'll all eventually work out. As a result, even though An American Pickle delivers plenty of conflict, there's no real drama here — and no real investment in Herschel and Ben's spat. Instead, the movie deploys over-the-top clashes in the service of clearcut gags and satirical observations, and to drum up easy laughs. Well that, and a product placement-driven fondness for Soda Stream that's the one thing Herschel and Ben always agree on. But, despite how straightforward it all proves, the film still boasts heart, sweetness, and an understanding of how the past always leaves an imprint, the future needn't fastidiously be chained to tradition, and that everything old and all things new have a symbiotic relationship. Yes, watching Rogen battle with himself manages to convey those notions. Luckily, too, given that the latest feature from The FP's Brandon Trost is rather standard otherwise. Generally, everything about An American Pickle takes the expected option — including switching aspect ratios to distinguish between 1919 and 2019, and using varying colour palettes to differentiate between Eastern Europe and America — but that description doesn't fit Rogen. If you've seen him in everything from Freaks and Geeks and Knocked Up to the Bad Neighbours movies and Long Shot, you've probably started predicting how he plays his parts here. And yet Herschel and Ben feel grounded and textured in a way that little else in this flick does. Rogen offers up two convincingly melancholy visions of two men cartoonishly wrapped up in their own needs and ideas, and his dual performances are consistently anchored in relatable emotions instead of merely self-evident jokes. And, in an affable but also mostly forgettable film, he's the only aspect that doesn't feel like it's been pulled straight from a jar that's been sitting on the shelf for quite some time. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RC2dsAGvGy0 Top image: Hopper Stone. © 2020 Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. All Rights Reserved.
The Oxford Tavern is about to be stripped of its scantily clad reputation, with influential new owners Drink 'n' Dine planning to breathe some fresh (and fully clothed) air into the Petersham pub. The infamous inner-west drinking hole has been known for its topless barmaids, cheap booze and lunchtime strip shows since the 1970s, and its transformation is expected to help gentrify the area. Sydney's Drink 'n' Dine company, who have rejuvenated pubs like Surry Hills' The Forresters, The Norfolk and The Carrington, plan to to turn the risque dive bar into an American BBQ beer house. Drink 'n' Dine CEO Jamie Wirth told the Sydney Morning Herald they'll be mixing Aussie pub classics with an American BBQ menu. There’ll be craft beer on tap and a leafy beer garden replacing the current pokie lair. Wirth plans on keeping some of the Oxford Tavern’s exotic charm by reworking the existing interior, including the neon signs and stripper pole. The new venue will be taken over next month with doors set to open in November this year. Via Sydney Morning Herald. Image: The Norfolk.
It is well and truly holiday season and as things heat up (literally and figuratively), Black Star Pastry has come in with the ultimate way to elevate your Christmas gathering. Enter the brand-new White Strawberry Watermelon Cake — a limited-edition Christmas version of its famous Strawberry Watermelon Cake aka the "world's most Instagrammed cake". The cake is crowned with white strawberries — rare variants originally from Japan — known as 'hatsukoi no kaori' or 'scent of first love', which have limited availability in Australia. Also included: layers of fresh watermelon and almond dacquoise enveloped in a rose- and strawberry-scented cream, then topped with white strawberries, pink cream, hand-carved snowflakes and a dusting of sweet snow — the closest thing we'll get to a white Christmas Down Under. The four-portion White Strawberry Watermelon Cake, priced at $80, is currently available for preorder. You'll want to get in quick, as this baby is available in strictly limited numbers due to the elusive nature of the white strawberry. Once ordered, collection will be available on Saturday, December 23–Sunday, December 24. In its 2023 Christmas range, Black Star Pastry is also offering a Gingerbread Chiffon Cake ($70). This take on the classic chiffon includes a gingerbread-spiced base, molasses buttercream layers, a white chocolate and lemon drizzle, then mini ginger ninjas and handmade white and strawberry chocolate candy canes on top. It serves 12 portions, with pre-orders are available now — as is collection, which will end on Sunday, December 24. For those looking to grab a slice of the festive action, individual slices of the Gingerbread Chiffon Cake are available in Sydney's Rosebery and Chatswood stores, as well as Melbourne's St Kilda store. So, if you're in Sydney or Melbourne this holiday season, why not treat yourself? After all, what's Christmas without a little indulgence? Head to the Black Star Pastry website to order the White Strawberry Watermelon Cake and the Gingerbread Chiffon Cake before Sunday, December 24.
We all wish we'd said certain things at certain times. This play explores what happens when we don't: we short-change ourselves, professionally and personally. We short-circuit our long-term happiness and run the risk of forgetting what we wanted to say in the first place and why it mattered. The newest resident of the Foggadieu Retirement Village, Joe Bleakley has had a life of lost opportunities, both on stage and off stage. A "has-been" actor who was never successful enough to be recognised and hailed as a "will-be," Joe's unpublished memoirs are entitled How I Clawed and Struggled to the Middle. Like Shakespeare's King Lear, who he quotes, Joe has "ta'en too little care" of serious matters; now he is faced with his age, his invisibility, and a hard-hearted daughter. Life's not funny anymore, but Joe has never let the truth get in the way of a good show. He is putting on a one-man show for his fellow inmates; a show that will enable him to play all the great roles he never got to perform. Motivated by ego and his compulsion to draw attention to the difference between him and the "old folks," Joe has lovingly prepared a selection of great speeches, famous quotes and stirring soliloquies. All his life, Joe has played the showman, but the mask he has made for himself is a false and increasingly fragile one. He freely admits to being a failure both as an actor and as a father, but Joe's self-deprecation is defiant. His insistance that he fully understands the ironies and absurdities of human nature shows us how oblivious comedy can all too easily slide into tragic oblivion. Joe can't come to terms with his deepest regrets and reconcile his relationship with his daughter because as an actor he necessarily avoids — and, in his case, denies — his true feelings. Even now that the show is nearly over, he finds it virtually impossible to say what he means, never mind what he feels. The clear message of Wish I'd Said That again comes from King Lear: to speak what we feel, not what will please the crowd. To value dialogue, not monologue, and to say what needs to be said when it needs to be said.
The Annandale Hotel, the beloved Parramatta Road music venue, is bringing primary school back by pitching the boys against the girls in a showcase of some of Australia's most exciting male and female talent. With an epic lineup of six bands, and evoking lunchtime kisschasey games, Boys vs Girls is a night sure to provide you with your musical money's worth and a minimal amount of playground hair-pulling and name-calling. Headlining are one of Sydney's finest up and coming bands Ghostwood, who you should in all seriousness check out, because if things in the world are fair they deserve to get very big. The female half of the headline is represented by Laura Imbruglia's witty, folk-inspired tunes, and bringing up the rear are the jangly guitars of Young Revelry, the grungy pop of The Betty Airs, as well as Creepers and Bonney Read. The first fifty pre-sale tickets will receive a limited edition cassette single of Ghostwood's incredibly catchy single 'Sunset Mirage.' A friend of mine has been trying to get his hands on one of these for a couple of months now, so I'm guessing there has to be something pretty awesome about them, aside from the novelty of owning pieces of dead technology gradually being revived by hipsters and nerds.
Every now and then a movie comes out that proves surprisingly different from what its name or trailer led us to believe. Three Kings, from 1999, for example, looked like a B-grade action movie but actually turned out to be one of the more poignant anti-war movies of the past few decades. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, too, was a beautiful love story that most people assumed was simply another martial arts film. The Raid, by director Gareth Evans, is not one of those movies. It looks like an action movie, it sounds like an action movie, and holy crap does it deliver as an action movie. The title alone tells you absolutely everything you need to know about the plot: this is a film about a raid. It's a raid on a building. People are raided. Under no circumstances should you trick yourself into thinking it's actually referring to a spiritual or metaphoric raid by a disabled orphan upon a grumpy old man's heart (though somebody write that down). Instead, The Raid is a simple but fantastic movie for people with simple and fantastically violent tastes. The film takes place entirely within the confines of a dilapidated high-rise building in Jakarta's slums. An elite team of police officers are sent in after a crime boss living on the tower's top floor, but when their plans fall apart, they soon find themselves isolated, trapped inside and battling dozens of enraged henchmen. From that moment forth the action is utterly relentless, both narratively and physically, with violence at times so extreme the stuntmen probably asked for stuntmen. The dialogue is also pretty thin, even for an action movie, and it's a fair bet that of the 90 or so pages in The Raid's screenplay, 89 of them just said, "Aaaaaaaaargh!!!" Even so, Evans has put together a truly heart-pumping grindhouse feature here that will appeal to fans of action movies ranging from Die Hard to Ong Bak. The direction is slick and self-assured, the choreography simply mind-blowing and the action quite literally nonstop. Yippee ki-yay, mothers... https://youtube.com/watch?v=7KJ0N7ik3yI
A boy scampers through the woods, happy in his natural surroundings. He runs, jumps, climbs and scurries, far away from the human world, with a very unusual creature for a companion. Such tales keep popping up in cinemas this year, particularly as far as modern-day, CGI-enhanced remakes of decades-old family fare are concerned. If The Jungle Book wowed you with not only its impressive visuals, but also its tender heart, then prepare for Pete's Dragon to do the same. Just don't expect a scary presence in this gentle effort – regardless of what the title seems to promise. Instead, the eponymous critter, named Elliott by the orphaned Pete (Oakes Fegley), is more like friendly, flying family. For five years after a car accident that leaves the boy stranded in the forest, the pair are inseparable. But when loggers venture into their turf, Pete is spotted by local girl Natalie (Oona Laurence), and taken in by park ranger Grace (Bryce Dallas Howard). Neither Pete nor Elliott cope well with their separation, especially when the townsfolk, led by sawmill owner Gavin (Karl Urban), start trying to track the dragon down. Be it a dragon, a giant robot or an extraterrestrial hoping to phone home, there's a reason that movies about kids connecting with unlikely buddies keep capturing hearts and minds. As demonstrated here by bookend narration offered by Grace's father (Robert Redford), the childlike need to find a kindred spirit doesn't fade with age. With that idea firmly in writer-director David Lowery's mind, his take on Pete's Dragon has more in common, tone-wise, with E.T. and The Iron Giant than it does the 1977 musical film it's based on. His movie is big on sentiment, belief and awe — though it's purposefully small and straightforward in its story. With his regular producer turned co-scribe Toby Halbrooks, the filmmaker best known for the lyrical western Ain't Them Bodies Saints once again opts to evoke emotion and wonder above all else. Accordingly, as much as the earnest feature explores yearning desires, it's also simply about letting audiences experience a world in which a boy can pal around with a dragon that looks like a giant, green, winged puppy. That's an inherently magical concept, made all the more so by Elliott's ability to turn invisible. So it is that for 103 patient, precisely paced minutes, the film invites viewers to not only dare to see the dragon, but to believe that he's actually real. The charming Fegley certainly goes along for the ride, as do his adult costars. But the most crucial figure is the digitally rendered Elliott, who Lowery, his team of Weta animators, and cinematographer Bojan Bazelli bring to the screen with a glow that matches the movie's warm heart. Just be warned: if you're prone to being moved by such sweet stories, you'd best bring a whole heap of tissues.
Sydney's Museum of Contemporary Art is celebrating the 25th anniversary of Primavera, the gallery's annual exhibition dedicated to showcasing the work of Australian artists under the age of 35. Featuring pieces selected from the MCA collection, Primavera at 25 will be exhibiting both established and emerging artists working across a range of disciplines from painting, sculpture, video, performance, kinetic and installation art. Many of the works in the exhibition explore the concept of transformation: moving, twirling, shimmering and spinning to create new forms. Others examine the notion of time, with pieces keeping track of or recording time, and deliberating ageing and degrading right in front of your eyes. Many of these works draw on the idea of personal and shared memories. So if you're interested in reviewing the past and possible future of Australian contemporary art and are keen to discover young artists, make your way down to the MCA from December 19 to amble through the works of these talented creatives.
A familiar face on panel shows like Would I Lie To You? and Never Mind the Buzzcocks, Paul Foot is one of the most unique voices on the stand-up circuit today. His strange, ranty, stream-of-consciousness comedy has made him a favourite with festival audiences around the world. An Evening With Mr Paul Foot features highlights from some of his best shows in years gone by, making it a perfect primer for those unfamiliar with his work, and a must-see trip down memory lane for his fans.
Mad Max: Fury Road for kids. That’s how PAN ought to have been billed, but instead the studios went with “Every legend has a beginning”. Bit of a truism, but whatever. At least it sets us up with the expectation that PAN will give us the gritty, untold Peter Pan backstory, and — true to its word — on that point it does deliver. Curiously, though, it then leaves much of the remaining (and arguably more interesting) information untouched, rendering PAN more like the ‘beginning of the beginning of the legend’. So who is Peter? Well, in this latest version by director Joe Wright (Atonement), he’s an English orphan enduring the worst of the Nazis’ WWII blitz campaign over London. We learn his ninja-like mother lovingly deposited him at the orphanage as a baby, along with a pan flute necklace and a mysterious letter speaking of hopeful reunions in a far away land. Now as a 12-year-old (played by Aussie newcomer and definite star of the future Levi Miller), Peter discovers the letter but has scarcely a moment to process the information before he’s whisked away by pirates in the middle of the night and transported to Neverland, where his true story begins. The thing is, Neverland isn’t as we remember it. Here in Wright’s version, it’s a colossal mining pit populated by hundreds of thousands of orphan workers all searching for a rare mineral called Pixum — essentially the raw form of pixie dust. Their overseer is a deliciously evil and charismatic pirate named Blackbeard (Hugh Jackman), who we first meet amid a bizarre rendition of ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’. As he addresses his bedraggled slaves and enforcers from up high and promises them untold riches (or at the very least, confectionary), the comparisons to Fury Road’s Immortan Joe are hard to ignore, particularly when PAN then descends into something of an extended chase scene for the remainder of the film. Still, in this pit we meet all but one of the future figures who’ll feature prominently in the Peter Pan legend, most notably Smee (Adeel Akhtar) and Hook (Garrett Hedlund, turning in what represents a solid audition piece for the next Indiana Jones film, albeit with an accent borrowed straight from There Will Be Blood’s Daniel Plainview). Together, the trio escapes the pit into Neverland’s untamed jungle and goes in search of Pan’s mother with Blackbeard giving relentless pursuit. PAN is the very definition of ‘family-friendly movie’, what with its non-stop action pieces, colourful costumes and entirely palatable violence (when the friendly ‘savages’ are killed, they explode into puffs of brilliantly coloured powder, much like the ‘how it works’ section of a detergent commercial). The special effects are extensive but first-rate, remaining impressively clutter free in that you can always identify the focal point of any scene (compared to the epilepsy-inducing offerings of films like Transformers). Performance wise, the leads (including Rooney Mara as Tiger Lily) all do their best with what’s a regrettably threadbare script, and Jackman probably finds the most out of his character, switching back and forth between homicidal and nurturing so effortlessly that it’s unsettling. There are really only two major shortcomings in PAN, but combined they do a lot to detract from what could have been something truly special. Firstly, it’s all very dour for something that’s set in Neverland, a place where fun is not just a pastime but a mantra and an obligation. Secondly, for a backstory on the Pan legend, we not only end up with very little new information, but — if anything — more questions than before. Case in point: the relationship between Peter and Hook. PAN’s prologue explains “sometimes friends begin as enemies, and enemies begin as friends”, but by the film's finale we see the two characters as close as any two friends could be, even going so far as to laugh about anything to the contrary. How and why such allies become mortal enemies would have made for an excellent plot progression, and it’s hard not to think this was excluded for the presumptive 'prequel sequel’. Still, it’s a wonderful visual experience that’s sure to delight young and old alike.
Guillermo del Toro hasn't yet directed a version of Frankenstein, except that he now has in a way. Officially, he's chosen another much-adapted, widely beloved story — one usually considered less dark — but there's no missing the similarities between the Nightmare Alley and The Shape of Water filmmaker's stop-motion Pinocchio and Mary Shelley's ever-influential horror masterpiece. Both carve out tales about creations made by grief-stricken men consumed by loss. Both see those tinkerers help give life to things that don't usually have it, gifting existence to the inanimate because they can't cope with mortality's reality. Both notch up the fallout when those central humans struggles with the results of their handiwork, even though all that the beings that spring from their efforts want is pure and simple love and acceptance. Del Toro's take on Pinocchio still has a talking cricket, a blue-hued source of magic and songs, too, but it clearly and definitely isn't a Disney movie. Instead, Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio is an enchanting iteration of a story that everyone knows, and that's graced screens so many times that this is the third flick in 2022 alone. Yes, the director's name is officially in the film's title. Yes, it's likely there to stop the movie getting confused with that array of other page-to-screen adaptations, all springing from Carlo Collodi's 19th-century Italian children's novel The Adventures of Pinocchio. That said, even if the list of features about the timber puppet wasn't longer than said critter's nose when he's lying, del Toro would earn the possessory credit anyway. No matter which narrative he's unfurling — including this one about a boy fashioned out of pine (voiced by Gregory Mann, Victoria) by master woodcarver Geppetto (David Bradley, Catherine Called Birdy) after the death of his son — the Mexican Oscar-winner's distinctive fingerprints are always as welcomely apparent as his gothic-loving sensibilities. In del Toro's third release Down Under this year, following Nightmare Alley and horror anthology series Guillermo del Toro's Cabinet of Curiosities — something else that unswervingly deserved his name in the moniker — the Pinocchio basics are all accounted for. This isn't an ordinary edition of the story, though, or a wooden one (for that, see: the recent Mouse House live-action remake of its 1940 animated hit). Co-helming with feature first-timer Mark Gustafson, co-writing with Patrick McHale (Adventure Time), using character designs by author and illustrator Gris Grimly, and boasting The Jim Henson Company among its producers, this Pinocchio still takes liberties with the original plot, without being beholden to Disney as its guide. Two big leaps: using wartime Italy under Mussolini as the movie's setting, and reinterpreting what it truly means to be "a real boy". Also a visible departure: how Pinocchio himself looks, with his forest origins never sanded or polished away, or clothed over like a doll (or a flesh-and-blood child, for that matter). He cuts a rustic, thorny and whittled figure, complete with stick-thin legs, twisted nails protruding from his back, swinging joints and a branch-like nose with leaves snaking in all directions whenever he fails to tell the truth. No doubt aided by Gustafson's stop-motion background, including working as animation director on Wes Anderson's Fantastic Mr Fox, the end result looks so knotty, gnarled and textured that wanting to touch it is a natural reaction. Pinocchio's entire visuals do, as lensed by cinematographer Frank Passingham (Kubo and the Two Strings) — and as befitting a story that's inherently tactile anyway. (Being about a hand-carved puppet that comes alive will naturally do that.) Sebastian J Cricket narrates, putting Ewan McGregor's (Obi-Wan Kenobi) melodious voice to good use as the talkative insect, and starting the film's star-studded cast. He chats through Gepetto's bliss with Carlo (also voiced by Mann), the recklessly dropped World War One bomb that took the boy's life and the booze-fuelled desolation that festers during the woodcarver's decades of mourning. It's while drunk that the latter whips up Pinocchio, who is then visited by the Wood Sprite (Tilda Swinton, Three Thousand Years of Longing), and embraces the next morning walking, talking and being thoroughly mischievous. Alas, the puppet isn't quite embraced in return to begin with — with his shocked papa constantly comparing him to his lost boy, the village priest (Burn Gorman, The Offer) demanding he's sent to school and the local Podestà (Ron Perlman, Don't Look Up) seeing military uses, wanting to ship Pinocchio to war with his own son Candlewick (Finn Wolfhard, Stranger Things). Telling the curious, cheeky, chaotic and selfish timber tot what to do at all is a tricky task anyway, but he listens to one person: Count Volpe (Christoph Waltz, No Time to Die). The carnival master entices Pinocchio to his circus with help from his monkey sidekick Spazzatura (Cate Blanchett, Tár), promising treats and fun, but only really seeing lira and adoration for himself. Del Toro's choice of period gives not just this but the whole tale a grimmer spin, with never being afraid to confront history's horrors — and life's — even when getting fantastical always one of the director's great moves. As in The Devil's Backbone, Pan's Labyrinth and Hellboy, it works beautifully; Pinocchio is as tinged with personal and universal sorrow and violence as it is gleefully sprouting with eccentricities. (On the page, too, Collodi's creation has always been weirder and more wondrous than Disney gave it credit for, as the 2019 version by Gomorrah's Matteo Garrone also recognised.) Surreal, tinged with sadness, bittersweet, beautiful: that's the film that del Toro has chiseled. It's also caught between a stunning dream and a macabre nightmare, and oh-so-aware that life is only as remarkable and precious as it is because death casts a shadow over every moment for all of us. The usual moral flutters at its heart as well, like this movie's cricket inside Pinocchio's cavernous wooden chest, but the added darkness and pain gives the idea of becoming a genuine person through kindness, love and connection extra weight and depth. This iteration tinkers with the mechanics and meaning behind that 'real boy' quest, however, to utterly heartwarmingly results. In fact, the only less-than-glorious move del Toro makes in his Pinocchio-by-way-of-Frankenstein is keeping in songs — his movie is magical enough without them. Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio screens in cinemas from Thursday, November 24, then streams via Netflix from Friday, December 9.
On the first Tuesday in November back in 2015, history was made. When Michelle Payne rode Prince of Penzance to victory at the Melbourne Cup, she became the first female jockey to win the race that stops the nation since it was first held back in 1861. That she beat 100-to-one odds made the story even sweeter. Payne's post-race statement, telling the world to "get stuffed if they think women aren't strong enough", rightfully became an empowering soundbite as well. Among not only track-goers and punters, but also folks who couldn't care less for the sport, hers instantly became a household name. Payne's win was a universal feel-good moment — a rare feat at an event and in an industry that are both saddled with multiple controversies. She didn't just fulfil her own wildest dreams, of course, with her victory having an aspirational effect. In addition to sending an uplifting message to girls, reminding them that they can do anything, the trailblazing achievement captured the broader public imagination. And, as usually happens whenever that's the case, cameras started rolling in response. While a schmaltzy Hollywood flick wouldn't have felt out of place, it was the wheels of the Australian cinema that started moving — helped by funding from several racing-affiliated bodies, plus a gambling agency. Whether made for television or playing in cinemas, a movie about Payne's success was always going to happen. Alas, while Ride Like a Girl is now racing across the big screen, it'd also suit a smaller canvas. The directorial debut of actor-turned-filmmaker Rachel Griffiths, it spins a well-known true tale in an overly familiar and straightforward fashion, including visually. Its aim: to simply warm hearts and spark cheers as it champions its real-life inspiration. If you've seen one rousing underdog movie, however — the kind where characters overcome rocky beginnings, suffer and toil, then follow their passions in a difficult field — then you've basically already seen this. Screenwriters Andrew Knight (Ali's Wedding) and Elise McCredie (Jack Irish) couldn't have come up with a more film-friendly story, not only spanning Payne's big moment but her background. Her family name was synonymous with horse racing long before she won the Melbourne Cup, with her father Paddy a veteran trainer, and eight of her nine older siblings all also working in the industry. But, despite her burning desire to race and her formidable work ethic, she was continually told that she'd never claim the sport's most glittering prize — or get the opportunity to try. Convincing her dad to support her dream was hard enough, let alone earning a decent run on the track or being treated fairly by her male colleagues. The fact she lost her mother as baby, the death of her sister during a race and her own bout of serious injuries all complicated matters, too. As nice as it might be to live a life that resembles a fantasy — or, not to downplay Payne's struggles, to navigate the kind of upward path that's usually the domain of crowd-pleasing fiction — where biopics are involved, it can make for flat viewing. Detail, texture and chaos all help a story resonate, as do intimate moments that feel inescapably specific to the real events at hand. Unsurprisingly, a broad overview doesn't have the same impact, especially one that seems as if it could apply to any number of similar tales. That's among Ride Like a Girl's chief troubles. Even when it serves up tidbits that could've only come from Payne's life, it takes such a light and breezy touch that it all still comes across as simplistic and routine. Indeed, if this was a book, it wouldn't be the mass of pages filled with meaty minutiae — it'd be the generic synopsis, designed to sweep readers in, on the back cover. Payne's feat will always echo throughout history, and so will the fortitude it took to get there, but Ride Like a Girl doesn't quite do her justice. That's not a criticism of Teresa Palmer, though, who puts in a performance not quite on par with her excellent work in Berlin Syndrome, but one filled with depths that the script doesn't match. As Payne's dad, a suitably stoic Sam Neill falls in step with with movie rather than his co-star; however the jockey's real-life brother Stevie, who plays himself, is an engaging delight. His casting feels real, a sensation that's missing from Ride Like a Girl elsewhere — for an inspiring true tale, it generally just feels manufactured. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gLn7UOw-tF8
Something delightful is happening in cinemas across the country. After months spent empty, with projectors silent, theatres bare and the smell of popcorn fading, Australian picture palaces are back in business — spanning both big chains and smaller independent sites in Sydney and Brisbane. During COVID-19 lockdowns, no one was short on things to watch, of course. In fact, you probably feel like you've streamed every movie ever made over the past three months, including new releases, comedies, music documentaries, Studio Ghibli's animated fare and Nicolas Cage-starring flicks. But, even if you've spent all your time of late glued to your small screen, we're betting you just can't wait to sit in a darkened room and soak up the splendour of the bigger version. Thankfully, plenty of new films are hitting cinemas so that you can do just that — and we've rounded up, watched and reviewed everything on offer this week. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aSfX-nrg-lI MANK In 2010's The Social Network, David Fincher surveyed the story of an outsider and upstart who would become a business magnate, wield significant influence and have an immense impact upon the world. The applauded and astute film tells the tale of Mark Zuckerberg and of Facebook's development — but it's also the perfect precursor to Fincher's latest movie, Mank. This time around, the filmmaker focuses on a man who once spun a similar narrative. A drama critic turned screenwriter, Herman J Mankiewicz scored the gig of his lifetime when he was hired to pen Orson Welles' first feature, and he drew upon someone from his own life to do so. Citizen Kane is famous for many things, but its central character of Charles Foster Kane is also famously partially based on US media mogul William Randolph Hearst, who Mankiewicz knew personally. Accordingly, Mank sees Fincher step behind the scenes of an iconic movie that his own work has already paralleled — to ponder how fact influences fiction, how stories that blaze across screens silver and small respond to the world around them, and how one man's best-known achievement speaks volumes about both in a plethora of ways. Mank is a slice-of-life biopic about Mankiewicz's (Gary Oldman) time writing Citizen Kane's screenplay, as well as his career around it. It's catnip for the iconic feature's multitudes of fans, in fact. But it also peers at a bigger picture, because that's classic Fincher. When the film introduces its eponymous scribe, it's 1940, and he's recovering from a car accident. In a cast and confined to bed due to a broken leg, he has been dispatched to a Mojave Desert ranch by Welles (Tom Burke, The Souvenir) and his colleague John Houseman (Sam Troughton, Chernobyl), all so he can work his word-slinging mastery. As Mankiewicz toils, the movie wanders back to times, places and people that inspire his prose, especially from the decade prior. Dictating his text to British secretary Rita Alexander (Lily Collins), he draws upon his friendships with Hearst (Charles Dance, Game of Thrones) and the news baron's starlet mistress Marion Davies (Amanda Seyfried) in particular. And yes, as anyone who has seen Citizen Kane will spot, Mank's nonlinear structure apes the script that Mankiewicz pens. Many of the latter film's glimmering black-and-white shots do as well, although you won't spot a sled called Rosebud here. In a script by Jack Fincher — father of David, who wrote the screenplay in the 90s before passing away in 2003 — Mank suggests other factors that made Mankiewicz the person he was, and that shaped Citizen Kane's script as well. Combine all of the above, and a dense and detailed movie results. That's Fincher's wheelhouse, after all. Mank is also visually ravishing and textured, and tonally cutting and icy — which, along with weighty performances, are all Fincher hallmarks. But there's both depth and distance to Mank. It peers in and pokes about, but it never wholly lures the audience in. Watching Oldman and Seyfried's rich scenes together, viewers will wish it did, though. Read our full review. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ETK0fOKwJNQ MONSOON Home may mean different things to different people but, in Monsoon, Vietnam doesn't mean home to Kit (Henry Golding). He was born there, in the aftermath of the war. He spent his earliest years in the Asian nation, with his parents caught up in the aftermath of the conflict. But when he was still a child, his family left for a refugee camp in Hong Kong and then moved permanently to London. Now, as an adult who has lived the bulk of his existence far away, he returns for the first time to bring back his mother's and father's ashes. He's instantly thrown off balance upon his arrival, whether he's driving through moped-filled streets or walking around crowded markets. Little of what he remembers is the same — his old house and his neighbourhood stomping grounds, particularly — and he doesn't recall as much as his childhood best friend Lee (David Tran), who stayed behind, would clearly like. Of what he does recollect, some crucial details clash with Lee's versions, too. Consequently, as Kit roves around Saigon and then Hanoi (his place of birth and his parents' original home, respectively), he's searching for a connection. He'll make one, but not in the way he expects. Monsoon tells a noticeably slight tale, but Cambodian-born Chinese British writer/director Hong Khaou (Lilting) is keenly and overwhelmingly aware that a sense of belonging doesn't simply come with one's birth certificate. He's also a minimalistic filmmaker, in a sense. He delves into straightforward scenarios, and knows that he needn't layer them with too many external complicating factors. In other words, he's cognisant that merely examining how a person copes — even in a very commonplace situation — can deliver several lifetimes worth of complexity without a wealth of other narrative roadblocks or setbacks. As a result, both Khaou and Monsoon ask a significant amount of Golding; they demand more than his previous charisma-driven roles in Crazy Rich Asians, A Simple Favour and Last Christmas have combined, actually. Viewers of those three films already know that he can radiate charm like few other actors currently appearing on-screen, but Monsoon requires Golding's soulful best. At every moment, he's tasked with conveying the potent thoughts and jumbled emotions swelling inside Kit, and with doing so largely without dialogue. It's a quietly powerful performance, and it's one that the movie steadfastly needs. It's one that Monsoon depends upon, kin fact. Thanks in no small part to his efforts, Monsoon feels comfortable and intimate and eye-opening and new all at once — and proves immensely affecting viewing. Read our full review. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xq1F1opr_FE&t=2s ELLIE AND ABBIE (AND ELLIE'S DEAD AUNT) As a teen rom-com about two high schoolers working through their attraction for each other as they're also trying to work out what to do with their lives and how to simply be themselves, there's a strong sense of familiarity about Ellie and Abbie (and Ellie's Dead Aunt). That isn't a sign of laziness, however, because first-time feature writer/director Monica Zanetti wants you to register how much her film resembles other entries in its genre — and to notice what it's doing differently. There's a purposeful sense of clumsiness about the Sydney-set movie, too. Again, that's by design. Studious school captain Ellie (Sophie Hawkshaw, Love Child) has a simmering crush on the far cooler, calmer and more collected Abbie (Zoe Terakes, Janet King), but is struggling to stump up the courage to ask her to the school formal. When the pair do slowly start becoming closer, Ellie doesn't know exactly what to do, or what's expected, or how to be the person she wants to be in her first relationship. Complicating matters is the distance she feels from her mother, Erica (Marta Dusseldorp, Stateless), as she navigates such new emotional terrain — oh, and the fact that, as the title gives away, Ellie's dead aunt Tara (Julia Billington) suddenly starts hovering around and dispensing advice about following her feelings. So far, so sweet. Of course, unfurling a queer romance within such well-worn confines shouldn't be such a remarkable act (and an Australian teen queer romance at that), but it still currently is. Ellie and Abbie (and Ellie's Dead Aunt) isn't just entertaining and understanding, cute and creative with its teen romance, and proudly celebratory of LGBTQIA+ perspectives, though. It's all those things, but Zanetti's decision to open the door to a deeper contemplation of Australia's historical treatment of the queer community gives considerable depth and weight to a movie that mightn't have earned those terms otherwise. The brightly shot feature has a strong sense of place, but without including all of the usual landmark shots that make many features feel like tourism campaigns. More importantly, it has a clear understanding of what LGBTQIA+ Sydneysiders have weathered in past decades. That activism is layered throughout the film in an overt subplot and, while it's hardly treated with nuance (an observation that applies to much of the picture), it's a powerful inclusion. Simply by reaching local cinema screens, Ellie and Abbie (and Ellie's Dead Aunt) makes a statement, but it also pays tribute to all the statements made in big and bold ways — and with tragic and painful outcomes, too — to get to this point in Australian queer history. Read our full review. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-rIcXgMx7hU PINOCCHIO It has been 80 years since Disney's Pinocchio unleashed a wooden puppet and the woodcarver who made him upon animation-loving audiences, adapting Carlo Collodi's 1883 Italian children's novel The Adventures of Pinocchio in the process. And, over that period, that film has remained the version of record. Indeed, it's the reason that generations of viewers are familiar with the story. Matteo Garrone's (Gomorrah) new live-action movie of the same name earns a place alongside it, however. It's one of three new and upcoming features tackling the narrative, ahead of a stop-motion flick co-directed by The Shape of Water's Guillermo del Toro that's due to hit Netflix next year and Disney's own flesh-and-blood iteration that's slated to be helmed by The Witches' Robert Zemeckis — and it serves up a tender and sumptuous take on the fairytale. In relaying how the kindly Geppetto (Life Is Beautiful Oscar-winner Roberto Benigni) shaped a lively log into a boy-sized puppet (Federico Ielapi), who then decides to see the world and strive to become a real child, it also hews far closer to the source material than its animated predecessor. This is a movie clearly made with an abundance of affection for its inspiration, too, and that love and devotion shines through in every frame. In fact, the feature's visuals prove its strongest element, including in bringing Pinocchio to life. He's a detailed marvel who appears oh-so realistic and yet also looks uncanny as well, as intended, and the decision to use a child actor wearing prosthetics rather than relying heavily upon CGI works a charm. The world that Garrone spins around the eponymous puppet is similarly rich and fantastical — and whimsical, although the latter is overdone. Pinocchio is far more resonant when it's letting its central figure discover that being human involves weathering all the cruelties that the earth's population has in store for each other, and watching him learn that Geppetto's unconditional fondness and acceptance is sadly rare. It's much less involving when it's leaning overtly into quirkiness, although that should probably be expected with Benigni involved. Where eccentricity is concerned, this tale already has plenty baked in, as the Fox (Massimo Ceccherini), the Cat (Rocco Papaleo) and the Fairy with Turquoise Hair (Marine Vacth, If You Saw His Heart) all make plain. But even if the whole movie is a little overstated, Garrone has still made a beautiful movie — and one that feels like the natural next step after 2015's Tale of Tales and even 2018's Dogman. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxWfz5hRt94 MORGANA Many a big-screen drama has stepped through the plight of a middle-aged woman unhappy with the state of her life, constrained by the path she's been forced to take, and uncertain about her next steps or committed to do whatever it takes to leave the existence she hates behind. Indeed, it's a list too long to detail; however, the entire history of fiction on celluloid couldn't conjure up anything as distinctive, empowering and intriguing as Morgana Muses' tale — or the wealth of literary narratives about the same idea, either. After charting the course expected of her when she grew up, she found herself not just unhappily married, but despondent in her domestic trappings. Accordingly, the Albury housewife decided to leave her husband and the small town she called home, initially in a tragic fashion. But, as perceptive Australian documentary Morgana shows, Muses thankfully only achieved the first two parts of that equation in her quest to regain control and agency over her choices. From there, she decided to step into the world of feminist pornography, resulting in an acclaimed career that has earned her accolades, applause and attention from Melbourne to Berlin and back again (and, obviously, that has resulted in her journey being immortalised in this movie). It's no wonder that filmmakers Isabel Peppard and Josie Hess were eager to document Muses' story and share it with the world, because it's quite the tale. This isn't likely to be the last film made about Muses, actually, because she instantly screams for several documentaries dedicated to her exploits — and will likely one day inspire a fictionalised drama as well. There's much to unpack, including Muses' resolute determination to bravely put herself first, express her own desires, and create both sex-positive and age-positive erotica. Every one of those decisions isn't just revelatory, but also proves revolutionary in their own way. Candid and complex, Muses is the type of subject that all filmmakers wish they could stumble across, as Peppard and Hess continually show in their engaging film. Morgana isn't just a celebration, though, because even Muses' new life has had its ups, downs, highs and lows — all of which are captured with help from the documentary's willing point of focus, with the help of both talking-head interviews and fly-on-the-wall-style footage, and with glimpses of the work that's transformed Muses' existence. https://vimeo.com/469681168 LOVE OPERA Australia's performing arts scene has been shuttered for much of 2020 due to the COVID-19 pandemic. But documentary Love Opera lets viewers peer behind the scenes of a production that hit the stage long before anyone had ever heard of the novel coronavirus that changed life as we know it this year — and to spend time with the talented folks who toiled to make the show in question happen, too. The opera: Carmen. The bodies responsible: the Lisa Gasteen National Opera Program (LGNOP) and the Queensland Symphony Orchestra. The year: 2017. Established by internationally renowned Australian soprano Lisa Gasteen, the intensive program trains Australian and New Zealand opera singers, and has put on a semi-staged production at the end of each year since 2017. Accordingly, Love Opera follows LGNOP's first attempt to do just that, from the casting through until the final product. Gasteen features prominently, understandably, chatting not just about the show at hand and the process of bringing it to fruition, but also running through her career, its ups and downs, the reality of getting to the top of the industry and her decisions for embarking upon her current path. Also lending the film their thoughts, feelings and observations are the program's cofounder Nancy Underhill, plus conductors Alondra de la Parra and Simone Young, as well as singers such as Rachel Pines and Morgan England-Jones. There's much to cover, as filmmaker Liselle Mei recognises, with the film quickly flitting through a wealth of material — and touching upon a plethora of topics in the process. The physicality required to be an opera singer, the passion that drives it, the difficulty of being a younger talent when many roles are written for older characters, the way the art form has been changing over the years, the treatment of queer creatives: all of this earns the documentary's attention, and each could've received more screen time if there wasn't so much to cover. But Love Opera never feels slight on any area of interest. It doesn't break the behind-the-scenes doco mould, either, but it delivers a broad rather than shallow snapshot of everything required to make the LGNOP's version of Carmen happen. Brisbanites will notice all of the drone shots of the movie's setting, which can border on intrusive; however, both opera lovers and newcomers alike receive an insightful glimpse at the ins and outs of the medium, its homegrown stars both established and emerging, and the hard work behind crooning its tunes in such a resonant fashion. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sS9AYlUfp0A FATMAN When a film or TV show fills one of its roles in a gimmicky way that's obviously designed to garner publicity, it's called stunt casting. The term wholeheartedly applies to Fatman, a flimsy action-comedy that features Mel Gibson as Santa (and delivers his second big-screen release of 2020 after the abysmal Force of Nature). Even just reading about the premise, you can probably see the light bulbs going off in casting executives and other filmmaking powers-that-be's heads when they came up with the idea — because enlisting the American-born, Australian-raised actor as the symbol of all things wholesome and jolly sits in stark contrast to the far-from-jovial string of controversies that have popped up in his personal life, especially over the past decade. But a movie needs more than a blatant stunt to actually serve up something worth watching. And as far as shameless attempts to grab attention go, getting Gibson to play the red-suited figure just proves ill-advised and uncomfortable rather than provocative. Writer/directors Eshom Nelms and Ian Nelms (Small Town Crime) must feel otherwise, though, because there's very little else to this festive-themed movie. 'Tis the season for dull and muddled movies that aren't anywhere near as edgy as its makers think, and aren't funny or entertaining at all, it seems. Three male characters drive Fatman's narrative, starting with Chris Cringle (Gibson), who oversees a Canadian workshop that's forced to take a military contract to get by. Kids just aren't behaving themselves enough these days, so he's delivering more lumps of coal than presents — and the stipend he receives from the US government to cover the elf-made gifts has decreased as a result. One of those bratty children, 12-year-old rich kid Billy Wenan (Chance Hurstfield, Good Boys), decides he isn't happy with his haul one Christmas. His solution: enlisting an assassin to bump off Santa as payback. Said hitman, who is just called Skinny Man (Walton Goggins), has been harbouring a lifelong grudge against the titular character anyway and doesn't take much convincing. Ant-Man and the Wasp and Them That Follow star Goggins is the best thing about a movie that has very little going for it, which speaks volumes about the one-note plot points. But given the distinct lack of jokes, the clumsy attempts to satirise today's supposedly uncaring times and the routine feel that infuses even its frenzied scenes of violence, he can't turn the film into a gift for anyone. Fatman wants to be an action-packed take on a Bad Santa-esque comedy, but ends up faring even worse than that beloved movie's awful sequel Bad Santa 2. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tdce40rfRbk ALL MY LIFE No one with cancer would wish for their experience with the horrific disease to be turned into a schmaltzy movie about how hard their illness was for their partner. Based on the true story of digital marketer-turned-chef Solomon Chau and his psychology masters student girlfriend and later wife Jennifer Carter, that's what All My Life serves up — and while it feigns to focus on both of them, this overt attempt at tugging on viewers' heartstrings makes it clear that it's really about the latter. The title refers to Jenn (Jessica Rothe, Happy Death Day) and the 'make every moment count' wisdom she discovers watching Sol (Harry Shum Jr, Crazy Rich Asians) battle liver cancer. Over and over again, especially in tough and devastating situations, the film's visuals focus on her rather than him, too. It cuts away from him when he's explaining how difficult it all is, to follow her anger about their changed wedding plans instead. It literally foregrounds her in a shot when he's just received a big blow, and is understandably failing to cope. And it gives her time to scream in anguish in her car after yet more unpleasant news comes his way, in case viewers weren't certain who the movie thinks is the real victim. All My Life may be shot in the soft and sunny hues of a trite Nicholas Sparks-penned romance — and clearly aspire to sit in their company — but it's insidious in the way it uses one real-life person's sickness to make its preferred protagonist seem more interesting. It's a gender-flipped, illness-driven variation on the dead wife trope, as seen in the likes of Inception and Shutter Island, where the male lead is given a sob story to make his tale more dramatic. It's firmly in line with the way that cinema routinely sidelines those dealing with cancer over those standing by their sides, as seen far too often (when a movie about cancer or featuring a cancer-stricken character doesn't stick to the template, such as Babyteeth earlier this year, it stands out). The narrative details that All My Life chronicles may stem from reality, but they're ground down to a formula: girl meets boy, sparks fly, their future sprawls out before them, then cancer gets in the way and she can't have her dream nuptials. There's also never any doubt that this movie wouldn't exist if the GoFundMe campaign set up for Sol and Jenn's initially postponed wedding didn't garner significant media attention, as if some level of fame makes one cancer story more important than the rest. But it's the choice of focus that transforms this film from an expectedly cliched addition to the weepie genre and into overt slush. Director Marc Meyers' My Friend Dahmer also struggled with a similar approach, also choosing to spin a story around someone other than the obvious point of interest — and the fact that Shum puts in All My Life's best performance makes the tactic all the more galling and grating here. If you're wondering what else is currently screening in cinemas — or has been lately — check out our rundown of new films released in Australia on July 2, July 9, July 16, July 23 and July 30; August 6, August 13, August 20 and August 27; September 3, September 10, September 17 and September 24; October 1, October 8, October 15, October 22 and October 29; and November 5 and November 12. You can also read our full reviews of a heap of recent movies, such as The Personal History of David Copperfield, Waves, The King of Staten Island, Babyteeth, Deerskin, Peninsula, Tenet, Les Misérables, The New Mutants, Bill & Ted Face the Music, The Translators, An American Pickle, The High Note, On the Rocks, The Trial of the Chicago 7, Antebellum, Miss Juneteenth, Savage, I Am Greta, Rebecca, Kajillionaire, Baby Done, Corpus Christi, Never Rarely Sometimes Always, The Craft: Legacy, Radioactive, Brazen Hussies and Freaky. Top image: Mank, Nikolai Loveikis/Netflix; Monsoon, Dat Vu.
Alright chinas, we need to have a rabbit and pork about Guy Ritchie's new $175 million rattle and clank buster: Kin Arfur: Jackanory of the Drum and Fife – an altogether pony and trap reimagining of the classic weep and wail that's light on the brass tacks, sore on the mince pies and pretty much tom tit. If you struggled to understand that, consider it our version of the "you must be this tall to get on the ride" sign for Guy Ritchie's calamitous take on the famous Arthurian tale. As with every Ritchie flick (see: Snatch, RocknRolla and Sherlock Holmes, among others), cockney banter flies thick and fast between Arthur's merry band of streetwise vagabonds, all of whom sport names like Goose-fat Bill, Wet Stick, Back Lack and Chinese George. Unlike Ritchie's previous outings, however, there's little wit or charm to back up the slang. Instead, we're given in King Arthur: Legend of the Sword a CGI-heavy romp that moves at such a frantic and disjointed pace that simply keeping up with the story feels like a greater test of character and strength than actually pulling Excalibur from the stone. Worse still, there's nothing new about any of it. Between the giant elephants (Return of the King), the 'bullet-time' slow motion (The Matrix) and an enormous killer snake (Harry Potter), it's all far too much like a video game we've played many times before and know exactly how to beat. There are, at least, a few notable highlights. Charlie Hunnam and Jude Law both put in commendable performances as Arthur and his evil uncle Vortigern, with Law in particular ensnaring the eye for every second he's on screen. Villainy suits the actor, whose charm and cheekiness take on a decidedly darker turn when given the right material with which to play. There's also a neat little twist on the sword/stone component itself, which – at least for a time – raises King Arthur: Legend of the Sword to a level worthy of its storied subject matter. Unfortunately, there's far too much style and not nearly enough substance to hold the film's loose narrative threads together. Snap cuts and fancy editing helped put Guy Ritchie on the map, but in King Arthur: Legend of the Sword there's no duck and diving the fact that it's all gone proper pete and tong. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jIM4-HLtUM0
Summer's coming to our fine city — Sydney Festival is back in 2017 with a characteristically eclectic program. One day ahead of the full program announcement, the Western Sydney program has been released, starting with a sprawling Circus City precinct. What's Circus City you ask? Four huge shows (running over ten days), 34 workshops, 55 free events (including talks, films and exhibitions) and a casual flying trapeze all happening in and around Prince Alfred Square. Some of the world's best circus troupes are converging to perform epic feature shows in The Spaghetti Circus Big Top and Riverside Theatres. Canada's Cirque Elioze will perform (complemented by a video projection show) their urban dance show iD. The UK's Ockham's Razor will perform their acrobatic show (on five-metre long metal poles) Tipping Point high above the audience. Brisbane's Circa will perform their dance/theatre show HUMANS. And Company 2 will perform their fascinating show Kaleidoscope, which is about and starring a young performer, Ethan Hugh, who lives with Asperger's Syndrome. But it's not all fun and games. At Campbelltown Arts Centre, you'll find the very first posthumous exhibition by Myuran Sukumaran, Another Day In Paradise, a collection of over 100 works painted while incarcerated in both Bali's Kerobokan jail and before his execution at Nusa Kambangan in 2015. The show has been curated by close friend and mentor Ben Quilty. Not content with a regular theatre space this Sydney Festival? Head along to El-Phoenician restaurant in Parramatta for Hakawati to feast on ancient Middle-Eastern traditions of story-telling and breaking bread with the National Theatre of Parramatta. Or pop over to a multi-level carpark in Blacktown for Home Country, Urban Theatre Projects' world premiere show taking you on a journey through place and identity. Want to learn another language? Sign up for a free Indigenous language class taught by Darug women Aunty Jaacinta Tobin and Gadigal man Joel Davidson. That's just the tip of the iceberg for Sydney Festival in Western Sydney, not to mention the whole program, which drops Wednesday, October 25 at midday. Sydney Festival runs from January 7 to 29, 2017. Check the website for more info.
How do you remember your childhood? For Abdul-Rahman Abdullah, making sense of his Muslim Australian upbringing has come through the medium of art. In the Name, showing for three weeks at the Alaska Projects space, explores life, death and dinner. Taking a walk down memory lane, Abdullah's installations offer a raw insight into suburban animal slaughter brought about from a lack of halal meat in typical Australian supermarkets. This West Australian artist tackles tough issues of identity and social difference with a refreshing touch. Straddling two cultural worlds, his work draws audiences into memories of youth tinged with bewilderment, curiosity and confusion. With art on display at the Islamic Museum of Australia, Artbank, Campbelltown Art Centre and a string of national awards under his belt, Abdullah is making a serious mark. Head along to the opening night on April 8 from 6pm to see this thought-provoking collection for yourself.
If you were after any confirmation of Bruce Munro's talents, you need only look at the roaring success of his spectacular Red Centre installation, Field of Light. Experienced by more than 450,000 visitors during its first three years lighting up Uluru, the large-scale work's stay was extended twice, before it was confirmed it would be sticking around indefinitely. Now, the internationally acclaimed visual artist is bringing some of that luminous magic down south, by way of two new site-specific outdoor art installations set to grace the banks of the Murray River. Comprising one work on the Victorian side of the border and another in New South Wales, Light/State is a multimillion-dollar, two-part project that's anticipated to have visitors flocking in their hundreds of thousands. First up will be the Victorian phase of the production, known as Trail of Light. Making its home on the western banks of Lake Cullulleraine, this one takes the form of an immersive walking trail, guiding audiences through a stunning landscape featuring 12,550 glowing 'fireflies'. Work has already begun on the installation, which will feature a total of more than 301,200 flickering points of light once it's completed in late 2023. Across the river, the town of Wentworth will play host to sibling work, Munro's Fibre Optic Symphony Orchestra. Set to clock in at around 220 metres wide, the installation is made up of 108 fibre optic light columns, each arranged around a classic Hill's Hoist clothesline. The colour-changing lights will pulse and glow in time to the accompanying soundscape, translating music into a rainbow of hues. The work is slated for completion in mid 2024. Bruce Munro has created more than 45 large-scale installations worldwide, often pulling inspiration from the shared human experience and responding to the natural landscape. [caption id="attachment_744632" align="alignnone" width="1920"] 'Field of Light', by Mark Pickthall[/caption] Bruce Munro's 'Light/State' will comprise two parts — 'Trail of Light' is set to open at Lake Cullulleraine from late 2023, while 'Fibre Optic Symphony Orchestra' will launch in Wentworth in mid 2024. Top image: 'Field of Light', Tourism Central Australia
Trust a mockumentary about the undead to keep coming back in new guises. Taika Waititi and Jemaine Clement's What We Do in the Shadows first came to light as a short film in 2005, then made its way to cinemas in rib-tickling feature-length form in 2014, and currently has both a werewolf-focused sequel and a US television remake in the works. As first announced back in 2016, it's also getting a Cops-style TV spinoff named Wellington Paranormal — and SBS has just announced that it will air on Australian TV later this month. The first two episodes of the much-anticipated series will air on SBS Viceland (and be available on SBS On Demand) on Tuesday, July 31, with episodes airing weekly after that. We don't even have to wait too much longer than New Zealand audiences, either — it will air on TVNZ tonight. If you haven't watched the trailer, here's a little background info. Wellington Paranormal doesn't spend more time with everyone's favourite Wellington-dwelling bloodsuckers, even though Waititi and Clement conceived the six-part series. Instead, it follows police officers Karen O'Leary and Mike Minogue, who WWDITS fans might remember came knocking at the vampire share house's door. With the help of Sergeant Maaka (Maaka Pohatu), the cop duo will keep trying to keep the city safe from supernatural happenings — and we're sure viewers will keep watching. When Wellington Paranormal's existence was first revealed, Waititi described the show as "Mulder & Scully but in a country where nothing happens" on Twitter, should you need any more reason to get excited. https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=2&v=WRO2QfESbEI
While a leisurely night of making your way through a feast of pasta and wine is an absolute treat, who doesn't love a quick, affordable bite? After nailing the former for the past decade with his restaurant group Totti's and the beloved Pinbone before that, chef Mike Eggert is turning his attention to the latter with his new CBD restaurant Oti'. Set to open on Wednesday, May 10 in the former Lorraine's Patisserie shop just off George Street, Oti' will specialise in two beloved staples of the quick, no-fuss culinary experience — pizza by the slice and sandwiches. Sambos will start from $15, while pizza will be available from $12 a slice. It will also be the latest addition to the CBD's late-night feed options, keeping the kitchen firing until midnight Thursday–Saturday each week. This corner of the Ivy Precinct will operate as a weekend hub for after-hours eats, with the recently revamped Jimmy's Falafel just a few doors down from Oti'. The menu will be ever-changing but what you can expect is plenty of classic Italian ingredients loaded between slices of schiacciata or piled on top of the thick, fluffy Roman-style pizza basses. Prosciutto, salami, mortadella, olives, capers and plenty of vegetarian-friendly fillings will be making appearances, as well as eight different kinds of cheese including Totti's signature burrata. "When Lorraine [Godsmark of Lorraine's Patisserie] retired I was given the enviable position of coming up with a new concept for the space. This concept of a pizza-by-the-slice and Italian sandwich shop is a passion project that Justin [Hemmes] and I had been talking about for years, so it's surreal that we're finally doing it," says Eggert. "We love the vibe of Jimmy's Falafel and how people line up down George Street for the takeaway offering, so we hope to have a similar success with Oti'." To celebrate the opening, all pizza slices and sandwiches will be half price all day on the opening day. From then on, you can check the Oti' Instagram page for the daily specials. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Oti' (@oti.slice) Oti' will open at Shop 5, Palings Lane, Sydney on Wednesday, May 10. It'll be open 11am–8pm Sunday–Wednesday and 11am–midnight Thursday–Saturday.
UPDATED, Friday, March 15, 2024: Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour (Taylor's Version) is available to stream via Disney+. Just like a great music documentary, an excellent concert film isn't solely about existing fans. That's still true when a movie arrives in a sea of friendship bracelets, focuses on one of the biggest current singers in the world, and perhaps the largest and most devoted fandom there is can be seen screaming, dancing and crying joyfully in its frames in a 70,000-plus drove. As the shows that it lenses were, Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour was a financial success before any Swifties experienced their version of heaven. Swift's onstage journey through 17 years of tunes sparked ticketing mayhem both as a concert and a cinema release that captures close to every moment. The Eras tour is a billion-dollar entity, with the self-produced film that's spreading it further than packed stadiums a box-office bonanza since it was announced. The 169-minute-long movie is also a dazzling spectacle that neither dedicated Swifties nor casual viewers will be able to easily shake off. When Swift told the world that she never misses a beat and she's lightning on her feet in possibly her best-known pop song, everyone should've believed her. Long before 2014 earworm 'Shake It Off' gets a spin in the 1989 segment of The Eras Tour, she's proven those words true in an indefatigable onstage effort. "Can't stop, won't stop moving" describes her efforts and the film, which is as energetically directed by Sam Wrench (Billie Eilish Live at the O2) and edited by a six-person team (with Max Richter's Sleep's Dom Whitworth as its lead) as it is performed. And, for anyone that's sat through Valentine's Day and Cats and found them hardly purring, it gives Swift the cinema presence that she's been trying to amass here and there — The Giver and Amsterdam are also on her resume — for over than a decade. Watching The Eras Tour doesn't just feel like watching a concert, but a musical spectacular in its vast grandeur, complete with the lead to match. Filmed over three concerts at Los Angeles' SoFi Stadium in August — closing out the first US leg on a global excursion that'll have notched up nearly two years of performances when it finishes in Toronto in November 2024 — The Eras Tour goes for both scale and intimacy, the holy duo of the genre. Concert flicks can't just passively watch on. One of their biggest aims: gifting audiences perspectives on the show that they can't see in-person, including spanning far and wide plus near and close. So, this one takes in the massive crowd and the just-as-enormous stage design from above. It also gives Swift's dancers and band their due. And, it, sees the star herself get sweaty, and the changing gleam in her eye depending on what which track calls for. As bouncily spliced together, each image reinforces an inescapable takeaway: everything about this tour is huge, from the cast and crystal-clad costumes to the sets and setlist, and also Swift's own stamina and chameleonic showmanship. Live and as recorded for posterity, nine of the singer's ten studio albums earn their own era (the one that doesn't, her 2006 self-titled debut, receives a track during the late acoustic section). Cue pinballing between records and styles, appearances and themes, and ballads and pop. Accordingly, songs from 2019's bright Lover sung in a bejewelled bodysuit give way to gold fringing to go all country-pop with 2008's Fearless, then orange cottagecore and witchy black cloaks for 2020's Evermore, a one-legged and snake-clad black-and-red catsuit for 2017's Reputation, and so on. Eras onstage has been exhaustively documented since opening in Arizona in March, making knowing which tracks Swift will sing, outfits she'll wear, moss-covered cabins she'll sit atop and glistening pools she'll seem to dive into scarcely a surprise not only to the Swiftiest of Swifties, but to anyone who hasn't been able to avoid the tour coverage — but in a production this immense and evolving, a "what'll happen next?" vibe still pulsates. Sans accompanying footage — interviews, behind-the-scenes glimpses and commentary are absent, with just snippets of bloopers dotted through the closing credits — The Eras Tour lets the show and tunes do the talking, plus Swift's chatter when she addresses the adoring crowd. By the time that she mentions how fun it is to segue through sounds and looks, and how it's made possible due to her fans (so: popularity and sales), the film has already made that plain, too. An ode to reinvention sits at the centre of Eras onstage and on-screen, and to longevity as well. When 'Look What You Made Me Do' enlists Swift's dancers in clear boxes, each decked out like various versions of the superstar across the years, the Barbie nods aren't subtle. 2023 is clearly the year of cinema celebrating women being everything that they want to be, which thrums at the heart of two key Swift details: why she's kept striking a chord, including with her youngest aficionados who see her as an array of role models, and her savvy knack for transformation. To the delight of The Bear's Cousin (Ebon Moss-Bachrach, No Hard Feelings), 'Love Story' gets a whirl early. Usually Swift-agnostic The Eras Tour viewers can consider the hit TV dramedy's fictional character their spirit animal while watching. This presentation is as shiny and shimmering as everything that its star wears, and as irresistible as the catchy 'We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together' refrain and slinky 'Vigilante Shit' beat as a result. Getting to the why of it all, Swift briefly explains the tour's concept; "what are you gonna do, play for three hours?" she says she was asked about touring post-pandemic after not yet taking Lover, Evermore, fellow 2020 release Folklore and 2022's Midnights on the road. The swarm of phone-wielding concertgoers before her cheer, of course. Understanding why Eras has had everyone talking since is as simple as letting The Eras Tour wash over you. A music film veteran with movies about everyone from Mary J Blige and Blur to Brandi Carlile and Lizzo on his resume, director Wrench knows that his task with The Eras Tour is multifaceted. His latest concert flick needs to spy the macro and the micro; to feel like it's on the ground and unveiling a money-can't-buy experience; and to see its star as everything and an everywoman whether she's singing about falling in love, searching for a soulmate, heartbreak, revenge, empowerment and identity — and playing guitar or piano. That it does this so seamlessly is no minor feat. Swift isn't a stranger to bringing her shows to the screen, as seen with The 1989 World Tour Live and Taylor Swift: Reputation Stadium Tour, but Swifties will consider The Eras Tour their Stop Making Sense, The Last Waltz and Amazing Grace. For everyone else, all almost three hours of the film is still enchanting to meet. Top image: TAS Rights Management, Trafalgar Releasing.
One of Sydney's best dog walking arenas is the 40-hectare Bicentennial Park. The scenic parkland encourages pups to accompany your day. Drinking alcohol is permitted, so you're welcome to sip a few brews while your dog-child runs around with his friends — there's a designated off-leash area near P5a car park for that purpose. Your doggo is also welcomed (on a leash) around much of the park (except the Badu Mangroves) — so you can hike up to Treillage Tower for expansive views of the wetlands, stroll along Homebush Bay or check out the boardwalks. If you're hungry, you can grab a snack at Cafe at Waterview, or pre-pack a feast and enjoy it one of the barbecue or picnic areas.
Set amongst the rolling hills above Orange, you'll find luxury cabins planted in the heart of a cherry orchard: Basalt. It's named for the volcanic rock of the now-dormant volcano Gaanha-bule (Mount Canobolas) that enriches the soil of said cherry orchard. Basalt has three secluded studios which sleep two people, each with its own unique design and backstory. The Chaser Studio — a homage to those who chase their dreams as the orchard operators did in the 1970s when they turned the neglected piece of land into the fruitful orchard it came to be — is perched atop the hill overlooking the cherry trees, enjoying 180-degree views to the north, east and south. The Drifter Studio is named for fruit pickers from all walks of life who have passed through the orchard over the years. Finally, the Yonder Studio is situated 80 metres from the nearest studio and is the most secluded of the three — it is grafted into the hillside and looks out over the neighbouring eucalypts. Each studio is fitted out with a king-sized bed, kitchenette, bath (with views), internal wood fire and outdoor firepit, telescope for land- and stargazing, aircon and continental breakfast for your first morning. You may feel like you're a world away while staying at Basalt, but it's only a short 11 kilometres from the town of Orange and offers numerous add-ons — including winery tours, stargazing sessions and Indigenous cultural experiences — as well as recommendations for experiences visitors can take while in the Orange region. Be entranced by the seasonality of the natural surroundings, no matter what time of the year you plan to visit — enjoy lush bountiful summer days, auburn autumnal leaves, frosted bare branches in winter or budding blossoms in spring. It's an excellent hub from which to explore the Orange region. Images: Monique Lovick
Not content with boasting Nigella Lawson's touch on its culinary program, Vivid Sydney 2025 has enlisted another huge name in the world of food and television: Martha Stewart. The Harbour City's winter festival is bringing the businesswoman and TV personality Down Under for a one-night-only in-conversation session, where she's taking to the stage to chat about her career. On the agenda: discussing everything from her start as a stockbroker, her 101 books and winning Emmys to becoming the first self-made female billionaire — and likely her 2024 Netflix documentary as well. How did Stewart become a globally known name in all things home and hospitality, and in design and TV, too? Expect to take that journey from her first book in 1982, through her Martha Stewart Living days and since with her at the International Convention Centre Sydney on Wednesday, May 28. How has she remained a pop-culture figure for four decades — and relevant as well? That'll also be discussed, so you can probably also expect to hear about her friendship and collaboration with Snoop Dogg, plus her 2023 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue cover at the age of 81. Stewart heads to Vivid Sydney as part of its Global Storyteller series, which has seen Parks and Recreation's Amy Poehler, The White Lotus' Jennifer Coolidge and Mike White, filmmakers Baz Luhrmann (Elvis) and Spike Lee (Da 5 Bloods), and Australia singer Troye Sivan get chatting in previous years. Stewart also joins a 2025 Vivid program that includes Lawson curating the Vivid Sydney Dinners series in Martin Place's lit-up Muru Giligu pedestrian tunnel, Tangerine Dream and Anohni and the Johnsons on the music lineup alongside Sigur Rós performing with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra and Portishead's Beth Gibbons , an immersive Stranger Things experience at Luna Park, lighting up Sydney Opera House's sails with work by the late David McDiarmid, Vincent Namatjira taking over the Museum of Contemporary Art Australia's facade and plenty more. [caption id="attachment_998032" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Gage Skidmore via Wikimedia Commons[/caption] Top image: Gage Skidmore via Wikimedia Commons.
Bridget bloody Jones is back and, frankly, we couldn't be happier. No, Bridget Jones's Baby is not the most cohesive narrative of the year, and no, it's not going to spur any radical political movements. Still, hardcore Bridget fans can breathe a sigh of relief, because this threequel is still pretty damn good. Fans of Helen Fielding's book series may have already deduced that Baby is not based on the third Bridget Jones novel Mad About The Boy, in which (*mega spoiler alert*) Mark Darcy dies. It's devastating, v sad and not at all Hollywood. Thankfully this is not this story. Instead, this tale is about BJ (Renée Zellweger) getting knocked up, and the antics that ensue as she tries to figure out the identity of the father. Is it quintessentially British barrister Mark Darcy (Colin Firth) or the OTT American love professor Jack Qwant (Patrick Dempsey)? It literally doesn't matter, that's not the point. The point is enjoying the face-palming situations that Bridget creates for herself as she tries to negotiate between the two maybe-baby daddies. The film guns for the same mix of stuffy British and slapstick humour that fans of the series all know and love – but this time around, Bridget is actually doing things that will make you fist pump. She's more like us than ever before: shagging randos at music festivals, looking fierce, texting with emojis, being surgically attached to her phone, kicking ass at work, telling her mother to sod off and best of all, deciding to have a baby on her own. Like a fine wine, modern day Bridget has undoubtedly gotten better with age. The writers have stayed true to the quirks of the original films without being slaves to them, for which we give great thanks. The red PJ pants are back, as are the lonely apartment dance routines and awkward speeches, but as homage rather than easy imitation. The plot doesn't just lazily redo all the bits that worked from the last films, like we're idiots who won't notice. There's no Hugh Grant, although Emma Thompson as a put-upon obstetrician more than makes up for his absence. On the other hand (unfortunately, there's always another hand waiting to slap you down), Patrick Dempsey is completely outclassed by his costars – although to be honest, it doesn't really seem fair to put a very American American in the middle of the most British comedy ever and expect it to go down smoothly. Also the actual plot, which isn't super-duper to begin with, kind of…entirely falls over at the half way mark. When the jokes stop rolling in and the sappy emotional routine starts around the third trimester, things get incredibly cringey. This may be the biggest difference between the decidedly British and smaller budget originals and this rather more shiny update. We expect a few sappy moments from Bridge, made bearable by the presence of a large pair of granny panties or a stripper's bunny outfit, but the saccharine sweetness of this film's final act does get a bit off-putting. Then again, by that point you're already well and truly invested. So it's fine. Or as BJ would say, v good. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0nhGGQ_PYyE
The diverse and highly acclaimed British troubadour Elvis Costello, whose career spans three decades, is back in Australia this year to perform from his back catalogue, which plays like a one-man pop encyclopedia. Costello last graced Australia's shores in 2009 when he was here performing solo shows, and is now here as part of the headlining bill for Byron Bay's Bluesfest this coming Easter. In 2010 Costello released, National Ransom, with The Imposters, who join him on tour for what is anticipated to be a spectacular concert experience, in what is surely the prettiest of Sydney's theatres. Almost completely impossible to classify into a musical genre, Costello might have been relegated completely to the underground if his tunes weren't so damn catchy. And in this sense, he's actually a bit of a punk. Not the stereotypical 'ripped jeans down with Thatcher' kind of punk, but in the attitude of not caring what anybody else thinks. Elvis Costello has always been unique and demonstrated that he's never cared what's playing on the radio. He just wants to make whatever music he wants to make. A punk in thick-rimmed glasses and a dapper suit. https://youtube.com/watch?v=tpprOGsLWUo
What had Amy Schumer advising that her hosting plan was "to stay present until I black out" and Troy Kotsur promising not to sign any profanity? Where did Timothée Chalamet opt not to wear a shirt, Tiffany Haddish declare that she's a superhero just for being herself, and anniversary tributes to everything from The Godfather, Pulp Fiction and Bond toWhite Men Can't Jump and Juno take place like an entertainment website had somehow come to life? That'd be the 2022 Academy Awards. Back in a March time slot, Hollywood's night of nights just handed out its gongs for this year — recognising films from last year — and plenty happened. Where did the first-ever live performance of Encanto's 'We Don't Talk About Bruno' occur, too? At the Oscars today, obviously. (We won't talk about a certain outburst that also took place, because it doesn't deserve any further oxygen.) While the ceremony always sparks conversation — great, bad or fine, the latter of which fits here apart from its violent interlude — the Academy Awards are always about celebrating top-notch movies. The body behind them made some incredibly questionable choices with its live event this year, including taking eight categories it didn't deem sexy enough out of the televised broadcast (including the one that none other than Hans Zimmer won, and understandably decided not to attend to collect), but a heap of worthy flicks still just picked up shiny trophies. As a result, CODA is now the reigning Best Picture winner, Jane Campion became just the third woman ever to win Best Director and Dune nabbed almost every technical award it could — and they're just some of this year's crop of recipients. From Drive My Car earning some Best International Feature love to Cruella's costumes getting the nod, if you're wondering what else emerged victorious, the full rundown is below. You can also check out our picks for the 11 winners you should watch right now as well — and our full lists of where most of this year's contenders are screening or streaming in both Australia and New Zealand. OSCAR NOMINEES AND WINNERS 2022 BEST MOTION PICTURE The Power of the Dog West Side Story Belfast Dune Licorice Pizza King Richard CODA — WINNER Don't Look Up Drive My Car Nightmare Alley BEST DIRECTOR Jane Campion, The Power of the Dog — WINNER Paul Thomas Anderson, Licorice Pizza Steven Spielberg, West Side Story Kenneth Branagh, Belfast Ryusuke Hamaguchi, Drive My Car PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE Olivia Colman, The Lost Daughter Nicole Kidman, Being the Ricardos Jessica Chastain, The Eyes of Tammy Faye — WINNER Kristen Stewart, Spencer Penélope Cruz, Parallel Mothers PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE Will Smith, King Richard — WINNER Benedict Cumberbatch, The Power of the Dog Andrew Garfield, Tick, Tick... Boom! Denzel Washington, The Tragedy of Macbeth Javier Bardem, Being the Ricardos PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE Ariana DeBose, West Side Story — WINNER Kirsten Dunst, The Power of the Dog Aunjanue Ellis, King Richard Judi Dench, Belfast Jessie Buckley, The Lost Daughter PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE Kodi Smit-McPhee, The Power of the Dog Ciarán Hinds, Belfast Troy Kotsur, CODA — WINNER Jesse Plemons, The Power of the Dog JK Simmons, Being the Ricardos BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY Licorice Pizza, Paul Thomas Anderson Belfast, Kenneth Branagh — WINNER King Richard, Zach Baylin Don't Look Up, Adam McKay (story by McKay and David Sirota) The Worst Person in the World, Joachim Trier and Eskil Vogt BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY The Power of the Dog, Jane Campion The Lost Daughter, Maggie Gyllenhaal CODA, Sian Heder — WINNER Dune, Jon Spaihts, Denis Villeneuve and Eric Roth Drive My Car, Ryusuke Hamaguchi and Takamasa Oe BEST INTERNATIONAL FEATURE FILM Drive My Car (Japan) — WINNER The Worst Person in the World (Norway) Flee (Denmark) The Hand of God (Italy) Lunana: A Yak in the Classroom (Bhutan) BEST ANIMATED FEATURE Encanto — WINNER Luca The Mitchells vs the Machines Flee Raya and the Last Dragon BEST DOCUMENTARY FEATURE Summer of Soul (…Or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised) — WINNER Flee Ascension Attica Writing with Fire BEST ORIGINAL SCORE The Power of the Dog, Jonny Greenwood Dune, Hans Zimmer — WINNER Don't Look Up, Nicholas Britell Encanto, Germaine Franco Parallel Mothers, Alberto Iglesias BEST ORIGINAL SONG 'No Time to Die', No Time to Die (Billie Eilish and Finneas O'Connell) — WINNER 'Dos Oruguitas', Encanto (Lin-Manuel Miranda) 'Be Alive', King Richard (Beyoncé Knowles-Carter and Dixson) 'Down to Joy' Belfast (Van Morrison) 'Somehow You Do', Four Good Days (Diane Warren) BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY Dune, Greig Fraser — WINNER The Power of the Dog, Ari Wegner The Tragedy of Macbeth, Bruno Delbonnel Nightmare Alley, Dan Laustsen West Side Story, Janusz Kaminski BEST FILM EDITING Dune, Joe Walker — WINNER The Power of the Dog, Peter Sciberras Don't Look Up, Hank Corwin King Richard, Pamela Martin Tick, Tick... Boom!, Myron Kerstein and Andrew Weisblum BEST PRODUCTION DESIGN Dune, Patrice Vermette and Zsuzsanna Sipos — WINNER Nightmare Alley, Tamara Deverell and Shane Vieau West Side Story, Adam Stockhausen and Rena DeAngelo The Tragedy of Macbeth, Stefan Dechant and Nancy Haigh The Power of the Dog, Grant Major and Amber Richards BEST VISUAL EFFECTS Dune, Paul Lambert, Tristan Myles, Brian Connor, Gerd Nefzer — WINNER Free Guy, Swen Gillberg, Bryan Grill, Nikos Kalaitzidis, Dan Sudick Spider-Man: No Way Home, Kelly Port, Chris Waegner, Scott Edelstein and Dan Sudick Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, Christopher Townsend, Joe Farrell, Sean Noel Walker and Dan Oliver No Time to Die, Charlie Noble, Joel Green, Jonathan Fawkner, Chris Corbould BEST COSTUME DESIGN Cruella, Jenny Beavan — WINNER Dune, Jacqueline West and Bob Morgan West Side Story, Paul Tazewell Nightmare Alley, Luis Sequeira Cyrano, Massimo Cantini Parrini and Jacqueline Durran BEST MAKEUP AND HAIRSTYLING The Eyes of Tammy Faye, Linda Dowds, Stephanie Ingram and Justin Raleigh — WINNER Dune, Donald Mowat, Love Larson and Eva von Bahr Cruella, Nadia Stacey, Naomi Donne and Julia Vernon Coming 2 America, Mike Marino, Stacey Morris and Carla Farmer House of Gucci, Goran Lundstrom, Anna Carin Lock and Frederic Aspiras BEST SOUND Dune, Mac Ruth, Mark Mangini, Theo Green, Doug Hemphill and Ron Bartlett — WINNER West Side Story, Tod A Maitland, Gary Rydstrom, Brian Chumney, Andy Nelson and Shawn Murphy No Time to Die, Simon Hayes, Oliver Tarney, James Harrison, Paul Massey and Mark Taylor Belfast, Denise Yarde, Simon Chase, James Mather and Niv Adiri The Power of the Dog, Richard Flynn, Robert Mackenzie and Tara Webb BEST DOCUMENTARY SHORT SUBJECT Audible Lead Me Home The Queen of Basketball — WINNER Three Songs for Benazir When We Were Bullies BEST ANIMATED SHORT FILM Affairs of the Art Bestia Boxballet Robin Robin The Windshield Wiper — WINNER BEST LIVE ACTION SHORT FILM Ala Kachuu — Take and Run The Dress The Long Goodbye — WINNER On My Mind Please Hold Top image: Netflix.
Sydney is arguably the sporting capital of Australia. It’s where the Socceroos won the Asian Cup last year, it’s the home of rugby league in Australia and who could forget that John Aloisi penalty at Sydney’s ANZ Stadium against Uruguay to take us to the World Cup? This February, Sydney's the centre of global sport action once again, with the Harbour city’s debut Rugby 7s event, Sydney 7s. Not across the Rugby 7s? This isn’t your average game of rugby. If you’re familiar with rugby union, then you’ve got a good head start, but don’t fret if you’ve forgotten everything that punter at the pub told you during last year’s World Cup — or if you have no knowledge whatsoever of the sport. We’re going to start from scratch, compare the two where necessary and get you up-to-speed so you can act like quite the expert come game day. So here’s seven things you need to know for the Sydney 7s, arriving on February 6 and 7. THE RULES As you might have guessed, the number seven is pretty fundamental to the whole shebang. Let's break it down: There are two seven-a-side teams — consisting of three forwards and four backs. They'll play a 14-minute match made up of two seven-minute halves on a full-size Rugby Union field. Players can only pass the ball backwards or kick the ball to move downfield, with the aim of the game being to get over the opposition’s tryline at the other end of the field. Do this and you score a try, worth five points. After every try, the scoring team attempts a drop kick conversion through the uprights to earn two more points — totalling seven points for a converted try. Teams can also score three points with a drop goal or a penalty kicked between the goalposts. After each score, the scoring team kicks off to the opposition to make sure the other team has an equal opportunity to return serve. Penalties result in either a scrum or kick for goal, depending on the offence committed. Scrums consist of three forwards versus another three. The scrum half feeds the ball into the channel between the interlocked forwards and retrieves the ball from the back of the scrum and play continues. If the ball goes out of bounds then a lineout occurs. Lineouts take place between two or three players and a player throws the ball back in to play. Finally, each team is only allowed to make three substitutions during the course of the game out of their five available reserves. If you’re familiar with the rules of rugby, you can see that 7s borrows a lot from the game played in heaven but adds its own laws that serve one purpose: to keep the game fast and free flowing. IT’S FAST AND FUN Rugby 7s is all about entertainment. With only seven players defending a full size field, side steppers, speed merchants and fitness freaks tear down the field and punish the slightest gap in a defence. The game is designed to allow scoring and demands it happens quickly. In fact, Sevens sees a try scored roughly every 70 seconds. Also, with matches being only 15 minutes in duration, you’ll see over 20 games on each day of the Sydney 7s. We’ve done the math and you’ll see around 240 tries on each day of the tournament! That is some serious bang for your buck. Plus you’ll get to see some of the fastest athletes in the world like Carlin Isles of the United States, who runs 100m in 10.13 seconds. Check out his highlights above. One thing's for sure, you won’t be caught twiddling your thumbs at the Sydney 7s. EVERYONE DRESSES UP Whilst there is plenty of action on the field, there’s just as much for you to do off it. For you see, 7s is a global party famous for its mix of party and rugby action. And like all good parties, there’s a fancy dress theme. Sydney 7s’ theme: 'go global'. To celebrate the international flavour of 7s, get into the spirit and dress as your favourite nation, no matter whether they are competing or not. Pull out your kilts or your Statue of Liberty costume but if you feel that’s too much, you can always wear your country’s jersey. Make sure you wear something comfortable to dance around in though as there’s live music each night. Saturday sees The Veronicas perform live before The Hoodoo Gurus bust out their classics on the Sunday. Forgotten about The Veronicas? How could you, they’re 4ever. [caption id="attachment_556948" align="alignnone" width="1280"] Image: Alistairjh, Wikicommons.[/caption] IT'S NOT YOUR REGULAR RUGBY CAST One of the great things about 7s that contributes to the sport being such a worldwide phenomenon is that it doesn’t feature your regular cast of rugby heavyweights. I mean sure, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa and England feature. But there’s also Kenya, Portugal and the United States of America. Joining these seven nations in Sydney are the current world champions Fiji, alongside Argentina, Canada, Fiji, France, Japan, Russia, Samoa, Scotland and Wales. Importantly, Australia and England have never had their hands on the World Series trophy (there's a lovely little fact that'll really piss off hardcore Aussie and UK supporters, use at your own peril). So why are Kenya suited to playing 7s when you never hear about them in rugby union spheres? Well remember, 7s is tailor made for fit and speedy athletes. If you get a bit of open space to run into, well, just look at the winners of most long-distance events at the Olympics and you’ll understand why Kenya are involved in 7s. [caption id="attachment_556949" align="alignnone" width="1280"] Image: Jesús Gorriti, Wikicommons.[/caption] SEVENS IS AN OLYMPIC SPORT IN 2016 That’s right, 7s is heading to Rio for both men and women and with the Olympics just over six months away, Sydney 7s has become an audition to become an Olympian, with all but one of the qualified nations playing in this tournament. This Olympic carrot has been crucial for the growth of the sport, with a 120 percent increase in global rugby participation since 2009 (when the IOC announced it was returning as an Olympic sport). This rise in competition for spots has resulted in the skills skyrocketing and also attracted some of the big names of world rugby — Sonny Bill Williams has signed on for 2016 and already claimed that it’s the toughest training he’s ever undertaken. THE PLAYERS NEVER SAY DIE With an average of just 70 seconds between each try, you can’t turn away from the field for a second. For example, in 2013 with three minutes to go in the match, the United States led New Zealand 19-5. The All Blacks then marched down the field three times for three converted tries inside three minutes, scoring after the siren to overrun the US and win 26-19. They were incredible scenes and hopefully they’re replicated a few times across the Sydney 7s tournament. THE LOGISTICS Sydney 7s will light up Allianz Stadium, Moore Park on Saturday, February 6 and Sunday, February 7. Tickets are available on the official website in one- or two-day packages. Check out the schedule for each day and pick how much party you want across the weekend. Tickets are selling fast, so grab yours soon else you’ll miss out. See you at the 7s!
UPDATE, November 20, 2020: Cargo is available to stream via Netflix, Google Play, YouTube Movies and iTunes. The ravenous undead have been chomping their way across screens for decades. Still, if it seems like their appetite has kicked into higher gear in recent years, that's because it has. Or, perhaps more accurately, the viewing public's hunger for zombie fare has ramped up considerably. Undead thrillers, zombie comedies, long-running TV shows about the brain-eating hordes — we just can't get enough. It's a zombie feast, not a zombie famine, although don't go thinking that you've seen it all before. Australian film Cargo sinks its teeth into the undead basics, and yet still manages to carve out its own territory rather than mindlessly following the masses. With people scarce and zombies shuffling, the movie begins in a standard-enough fashion, plunging into an outbreak that transforms the living into the living dead in 48 hours. Andy (Martin Freeman) and Kay's (Susie Porter) solution is to stick to their houseboat and float down an outback river, which is the best thing they can do to keep their infant Rosie safe. Unfortunately, their sense of security is short-lived, leaving Andy scrambling across the dusty landscape to protect his baby. Also trying to cope with the new dystopian status quo is young Indigenous girl Thoomi (Simone Landers), with Cargo examining more than one fraught father-daughter relationship. Updating their 2013 Tropfest short of the same name to feature length, co-directors Ben Howling and Yolanda Ramke know that less is more. A good zombie film doesn't need complicated scenarios or elaborate explanations, so the duo keep things simple. A great example of the genre puts more focus on the humans than the undead, so that's how the filmmakers approach their movie. You won't find heaving throngs of walking corpses here — but you will find a variety of folks handling the life-or-death crisis in different ways. Andy desperately searches for someone to look after Rosie. Ex-fracking worker Vic (Anthony Hayes) plans for the future in a far more insidious manner. And while Thoomi has managed to keep her zombified dad (Bruce R. Carter) around, her elders, lead by their cleverman Daku (David Gulpilil), have their own methods — and their own ideas about the source of the pandemic. If it's rare for a zombie flick to dive so deeply and thoughtfully into its characters, then it is rarer still for such a film to also ponder various kinds of death and destruction. Writing as well as co-helming, Ramke weaves both humanity's impact upon the environment and white settlers' treatment of Australia's aboriginal people into the narrative — and Cargo is all the better for it. While there's plenty that's familiar, especially if you're an undead connoisseur, the movie smartly and astutely plays up the many real-life parallels that come with its premise. These days, contemplating the end of existence as we know it goes hand-in-hand with contemplating our ecological footprint. Similarly, exploring a world where one part of the population terrorises another provides a timely exploration of race relations. Previous zombie stories have also drawn comparable conclusions, but where George A. Romero highlighted racism in Night of the Living Dead half a century ago, Cargo reclaims a space for Indigenous culture in the fight for survival. Amongst all of the above, and amidst the gorgeously shot South Australian backdrop, Freeman and Landers stand front and centre. The former might be a veteran and the latter a newcomer, but the movie wouldn't work quite as well without either. Freeman's recognisable everyman persona comes in handy, even if it makes you remember his trek across greener terrain in The Hobbit trilogy. Landers' naturalism couldn't be more buoyant, even in such a bleak film. One gets more screen time than the other, but together they embody Cargo's distinctive take on its well-worn genre. This involving, moving zombie drama initially ambles along a reliable path, yet isn't afraid to find its own direction — and isn't shy about blending the expected and the fresh in the process. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_SiHPtwQ7s
It's not every comedian who would take a nonchalant detour from her LA stand-up set to announce to the audience she'd just been diagnosed with breast cancer. That day. "With humour, the equation is tragedy plus time equals comedy," said Tig Notaro that night. "I am just at tragedy right now." A brave, matter of fact Grammy-nominee who did something instantly legendary in 2012, Notaro has just announced she's coming back to Australia. One of the US's biggest stand-up comedians, Notaro is heading to our shores from December 6 – 13 for a limited run of dates presented by Melbourne International. Stopping by Perth, Melbourne, Brisbane and Sydney, Notaro's Boyish Girl Interrupted tour is sure sell out venues within an inch of their capacity — having sold out her wildly successful Edinburg Fringe run last year and sold a casual 100,000+ copies of her Grammy-nominated, second comedy album Live, the follow up to her 2011 debut Good One. Notaro's blend of humour and real life truth bombs have earned her serious high fives from some significantly kickass people — Louis CK tweeted after her LA show, "In my 27 years doing this I have seen a handful of truly masterful performances. One was Tig Notaro last night." Then This American Life's Ira Glass went and praised his frequent TAL contributor, "Tig is now in the heads of hundreds of thousands of people who don’t see her as a comic, she’s now their favourite person." Throw in some kickass guest appearances on The Office, The Sarah Silverman Program, Inside Amy Schumer and Community and you've got yourself one truly applauseworthy comedian. Tig Notaro's Boyish Girl Interrupted 2014 Dates: Perth: Saturday 6 Dec, 8pm — Regal Theatre. Tickets via Ticketek. Melbourne: Tuesday 9 Dec, 8pm — Athenaeum Theatre. Tickets via Ticketek. Brisbane: Thursday 11 Dec, 8pm — Tivoli Theatre. Tickets via Ticketmaster. Sydney: Saturday 13 Dec, 8pm — Enmore Theatre. Tickets via Ticketek. Tickets on sale on Wednesday 17 September. Image: Ruthie Watt.
Another week, another cookie pie. That's how it feels sometimes thanks to Gelato Messina's beloved desserts — and no, we're not complaining. After the gelato chain first introduced its cookie pies to the world in 2020, it has kept bringing the OTT dessert back. We all need an extra dose of sweetness every now and then, obviously, including while both Sydney and Melbourne are in lockdown. So, it should come as no surprise that Messina is serving up the decadent dessert yet again. This time, though, it's quite the Frankenstein's monster of a dessert. This version is also a returning favourite — and, if you like fairy bread, cookie pies and Messina's gelato, prepare to get excited. Hang on, a cookie pie? Yes, it's a pie, but a pie made of cookie dough. And it serves two-to-six people — or just you. You bake it yourself, too, so you get to enjoy that oh-so-amazing smell of freshly baked cookies wafting through your kitchen. Now that you're onboard with the overall cookie pie concept, the fairy bread version really is exactly what it sounds like. That crunchy, crumbly cookie dough is filled with milk and dark Messina chocolate chunks, as well as vanilla custard. It's then topped with more 100s and 1000s than you've probably seen since your childhood birthday parties. It wouldn't be a fairy bread version otherwise, of course. You can only buy this pie in kits, which means that you'll get some of the cult ice creamery's famed gelato along with it. You can opt for a 500-millilitre tub for $38, a one-litre tub for $44 or a 1.5-litre tub for $48. If you're keen to get yourself a piece of the pie, they're available to preorder from 9am on Monday, July 19 — with pick up between Friday, July 23–Sunday, July 25 from your chosen Messina store. Once you've got the pie safely home, you just need to whack it in the oven for 30 minutes at 160 degrees and voila. You can preorder a Messina fairy bread cookie pie from Monday, July 19, to pick up from all NSW, Vic and Queensland Gelato Messina stores except The Star.
The enthralling showcase of aerialists, acrobats, jugglers and circus performers is back once again this Easter long weekend to dazzle audiences at the Hoopla Festival at Darling Harbour. With a range of incredible skills and talents on display for 2013, this year's crew will provide a weekend of exceptional entertainment for all ages and backgrounds. With a Tumble Circus all the way from Ireland, the Barolosolo Cirkus Company revealing some of most hilarious and entertaining acts France has to offer, as well as performers straight from Cirque du Soleil, Legs on the Wall and Circus Oz, the high calibre of the artists on show will have you gasping, laughing and wanting much, much more. The acts on offer range from tricky magicians, bendy contortionists, burly handbalancers and saucy burlesque performers to hilarious comedians. Most of the performances are free or $5, ranging up to only $25, and they are all easily located on the ideal backdrop of our very own Darling Harbour. Check out the program to plan the most compelling Easter weekend (and probably cheapest) you would've and will have in a while.
By the beard of Zeus, everyone's favourite TV newsman is back — in podcast form. Not content with his regular job at KVWN Channel 4, or with being the star of Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy and Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues, Ron Burgundy is giving another medium a whirl. Announced late in 2018, The Ron Burgundy Podcast is now staying classy on the iHeartRadio platform. His new show released its first episode on February 7, and will drop new instalments each Thursday. In total, two 12-episode seasons on their way, with the second batch due to hit mid-year. Yes, it's kind of a big deal, as is the fact that Will Ferrell reprises his role as the fictional San Diego newscaster. The entire show is co-produced by Funny or Die, which Ferrell co-founded, so it was always likely that he was going to be involved. While The Ron Burgundy Podcast could've just featured the anchorman chatting while sipping scotchy scotch scotch and talking over his beloved dog Baxter, that's not the finished product. Rather, the character tackles a different topic each week, starting with a subject that no one can get enough of: true crime. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0u_jcTy3JHM Serial, this isn't — but If you've ever wanted to unlock Burgundy's glass case of emotion about the Zodiac Killer, all of your favourite true crime binges and whether obsessing over the genre is a little bit creepy, now you can. In true Ron Burgundy style, he had some words about his new venture. "Listen, I don't know what a podcast is, but I currently have a lot of time on my hands and a lot to talk about. I am also broke. Therefore, I am very excited to do this podcast. It is literally saving my life." The first episode of The Ron Burgundy Podcast is now available on iHeartRadio, with new episodes dropping every Thursday.
Let's see what's behind door number one. Or how about door number 1000? After blowing our minds in 2017 with the incredible House of Mirrors, Australian installation artists Christian Wagstaff and Keith Courtney unveiled their follow-up at Melbourne Festival with the fittingly named 1000 Doors. And in April, it's popping up in Bendigo's town centre, thanks to Bendigo Art Gallery. Visitors will choose their own adventure, cutting a path through an endless labyrinth of doors, screens, portals and gateways in Rosalind Park. No two people will experience the work in quite the same way once they step across the threshold. While there's no word yet on what you'll encounter on the way — hopefully no deathly four-guard, two-door riddle à la Labyrinth — the artists have hinted to ghosts, time-travelling and 'inhabitants past'. We suggest you have your wits about you. 1000 Doors will be open daily from 2–9pm (last entry 8.30pm). You can purchase tickets at the on-site box office. Images: James Morgan
Do you wanna know the latest big Australian tour news? Yes, if you're an Arctic Monkeys fan, you do. Already slated to head Down Under for Falls Festival and Lost Paradise, the Sheffield rockers have just gone and added three huge standalone — and outdoor — gigs to their tour itinerary. We bet you'll look good on the dance floor when January 2023 rolls around, obviously. 2022 marks two decades since the band first formed in their Yorkshire home town, and they'll see out the year in Australia, then start next year here as well. For their solo shows, Alex Turner, Jamie Cook, Nick O'Malley and Matt Helders will hit Melbourne's Sidney Myer Music Bowl and Brisbane's Riverstage, both with Mildlife in support, before heading to The Domain in Sydney with DMA's & The Buoys. Arctic Monkeys' last tour to come our way, 2019's Tranquility Base Hotel + Casino World Tour, was massive. Actually, every tour they've brought Down Under has been. Given their career to-date — including scoring the fastest-selling debut album in UK chart history when Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not released in 2006 — that's hardly surprising. (Nor are the Sheffield United and Sheffield Wednesday shirts always spotted in the crowd whenever the band makes the trip Down Under, with Aussie supporters of the group's two hometown soccer teams routinely coming out in force.) It's been four years since the Monkeys' last album, the aforementioned Tranquility Base Hotel + Casino — but they won't be short of hits to play. Expect plenty of fun when the sun goes down, and not just a number-one party anthem on the set list. And if you're somehow not already excited, snap out of it. ARCTIC MONKEYS 2023 AUSTRALIAN TOUR DATES — STANDALONE SHOWS: Wednesday, January 4 — Sidney Myer Music Bowl, Melbourne, with Mildlife Wednesday, January 11 — Riverstage, Brisbane, with Mildlife Saturday, January 14 — The Domain, Sydney, with DMA's & The Buoys Arctic Monkeys are touring Australia in January 2023. Tickets go on sale online at 12pm local time on Friday, June 17, with pre-sales via the band from 10am AEST on Wednesday, June 15 and through Frontier from 10am AEST on Thursday, June 16. For more information, head to the tour website. Top image: Raph_PH via Flickr.
Autumn's here, which means less time at the beach and more time doing indoorsy things like art and theatre and music. Luckily, a stack of bands and singer-songwriters are gearing up to tour the east coast during the next few months, helping to ease your transition into cooler weather. Narrowing them down into a top five has been no mean feat, but, in partnership with JBL Link Speakers, we've come up with these recommendations to kickstart your gigging adventures. And while you're waiting for the gigs to roll around, we curated a handy Spotify list to get you pumped. Listen to it on some JBL Link 10s — anywhere you like because these babies are portable and last you five hours — and you'll feel as if you're almost (we said almost) at the gig already. Here they are, the five gigs to add to your calendar this autumn. All shows are likely to sell out quickly, so don't dilly-dally: get your mitts on tix as soon as your wallet will allow. CAMP COPE This year, Camp Cope's second album, How to Socialise and Make Friends, nabbed a coveted 7.8 review on Pitchfork. A follow-up to their 2016 self-titled debut, the sophomore continues to address misogyny, sexual assault and sexism in the music industry via songwriter Georgia Maq's clever blending of the personal and the political. Lead single 'The Opener', with its quotable lines like "Yeah, just get a female opener, that'll fill the quota", came in at number 58 on the 2017 triple j Hottest 100. On the back of this commercial and critical success, the outspoken Melbourne-based folk-punk-rock trio is gearing up to take its fierce live act across Australia. WHERE AND WHEN — Thursday, March 15 and Friday, March 16: Thornbury Theatre, Melbourne — Saturday, March 17: The Tivoli, Brisbane — Friday, March 23: Metro Theatre, Sydney — SOLD OUT ALEX THE ASTRONAUT AND STELLA DONNELLY Two young Aussie songwriters who aren't afraid of tackling the big issues are teaming up for a joint tour this April. One is Sydney-born, Alex The Astronaut, whose single 'Not Worth Hiding', about openly owning your sexuality, became a bit of an anthem for the 'yes' campaign in the lead-up to the same-sex marriage postal survey. The other is Perth's Stella Donnelly, whose 'Boys Will Be Boys' deals with victim blaming following sexual assault and rape. WHERE AND WHEN — Saturday, April 14: Festival 2018 in South Bank, Brisbane (free) — Wednesday, April 18: Oxford Art Factory, Sydney — Wednesday, April 25: The Corner Hotel, Melbourne THE SMITH STREET BAND It's been almost a year since Melbourne's The Smith Street Band treated us to a national headline tour. But that's not to say they've been resting on their laurels. In 2017, the boys rocked out at several major festivals, including Groovin' the Moo and Splendour in the Grass, supported Midnight Oil and gigged all over the US and Europe. Plus, their new album More Scared of You Than You Are of Me entered the ARIA Charts at number three. Over the next few months, they'll be appearing pretty much everywhere in Australia with support from Bec Sandridge, who toured the UK and Europe last year on the back of new single 'I'll Never Want A BF', and Press Club, who've been basking in big love following the release of their debut single 'Headwreck'. WHERE AND WHEN — Saturday, March 24: Enmore Theatre, Sydney — Monday, April 16: The Tivoli, Brisbane — Saturday, May 12: Hawthorn Arts Centre, Melbourne — SOLD OUT ALEX LAHEY Alex Lahey's catchy melodies and honest lyrics have been scoring airplay ever since she released 'You Don't Think You Like People Like Me' in 2016. Last year, she followed up with debut album I Love You Like a Brother — which made the 2017 Triple J Listeners' Album of the Year list — before touring the UK and the US (including an appearance on Late Night with Seth Myers) and returning home to scoop up the Levi's Music Prize. She's spending March gigging around the UK and Europe, before kicking off the Huge and True tour here in Australia. WHERE AND WHEN — Friday, April 6: Factory Theatre, Sydney — Saturday, April 7: The Triffid, Brisbane — Wednesday, April 17: 170 Russell, Melbourne DZ DEATHRAYS If you're keen to thrash your way through autumn, then get along to one of DZ Deathrays' shows. The Queensland-based duo, who cut their teeth at house parties around Brisbane, are heading out on the road to launch their newest album Bloody Lovely, which is all about solid, old-fashioned party rock songs. Providing support will be up and coming bands Clowns, These New South Whales and Boat Show. Several gigs have already sold out, but new dates have been added, so you've still got a chance if you get onboard and grab a ticket ASAP. WHERE AND WHEN — Wednesday, May 9: Metro Theatre, Sydney — Wednesday, May 23: 170 Russell, Melbourne — Thursday, May 24: The Triffid, Brisbane Get your tix and amp yourself up for the gig with our Spotify playlist — played on some swish JBL Link speakers, of course. And if you don't have wifi and Bluetooth-enabled, voice-activated, durable, long-lasting and, most importantly, high-quality speakers in your possession, we've got some to give away here. https://open.spotify.com/user/concreteplayground/playlist/2k4LuQ65AP4xn0ekGTH1qM
Sometimes it festers in the hearts of killers. Sometimes it's the reason that villains keep stalking heroes. Sometimes, otherworldly forces are at play. However it graces the big screen, evil is a complicated concept — but cinema also frequently handles it in a muddled and simplistic fashion. Increasingly, as seen in origin stories like Joker and Cruella, profound wickedness has a relatable, almost-excusable reason. Acknowledging that bad things can just happen and unpleasant people can just exist without explanation (so, opting for something far more sinister and also much more realistic) is becoming rare. The other frequently deployed movie rationale, especially in horror, sits at the heart of one of the biggest cash-earning current franchises there is. In The Conjuring films and their spinoffs, evil lurks because literal demons also lurk. Different tactic, same result. Starting in 2013 with The Conjuring, expanding with 2014's Annabelle, and also including The Conjuring 2, both terrible and much better sequels to Annabelle, the dismal The Nun and the formulaic The Curse of the Weeping Woman, The Conjuring Universe now spans eight evil-fighting flicks — and they're all as straightforward as it gets regarding battling the nefarious. Circling around real-life paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren, the franchise posits that the supernatural exists, darkness preys upon the innocent and its central couple usually has the tools to combat everything untoward. That template remains firmly in place in The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It. That said, the third Conjuring flick within the broader Conjuring realm does attempt a few changes. Rather than getting creeped out by haunted houses, it gets spooked by a kid and then a teenager who are both possessed. True to form, bone-shakingly horrific things can't simply occur without some kind of excuse and entity at play. The Warrens (Patrick Wilson, Aquaman, and Vera Farmiga, Godzilla: King of the Monsters) are first tasked with saving eight-year-old David Glatzel (Julian Hilliard, WandaVision) from a demon after his family moves to stereotypically sleepy Brookfield, Connecticut. Their efforts seem successful, even if Ed has a heart attack mid-exorcism, but the evil force they're fighting has really just jumped ship. Arne Johnson (Ruairi O'Connor, The Spanish Princess), the boyfriend of David's sister Debbie (Sarah Catherine Hook, NOS4A2), is quickly besieged by strange occurrences. He's soon also covered in blood after stabbing his landlord to Blondie's 'Call Me'. The death penalty beckons; however, the Warrens convince Arne's lawyer to plead not guilty by reason of demonic possession — the first time that ever happened in the US — and then commit to unearthing whatever paranormal details they can to save his life. The trailer for The Devil Made Me Do It teases legal thrills, but in a bait-and-switch way — because this film is barely concerned with Arne's court case. The true tale, which was previously dramatised in a 1983 TV movie starring Kevin Bacon, merely provides an easy setup here. Sticking to the facts hardly bothers director Michael Chaves (The Curse of the Weeping Woman) and screenwriter David Leslie Johnson-McGoldrick (Aquaman). Instead, the pair focus on the usual bumps, jumps and scares that have haunted this franchise since day one. Taking their cues from James Wan, the Australian Saw and Insidious co-creator who helmed the first two Conjuring flicks, The Devil Made Me Do It has all the eerie noises and sudden frights down pat, in fact. More of them are just splashed across the screen, attempting to unnerve the movie's audience with the gusto of a well-oiled machine. As the series' creator and producer, if Wan had opted to call this one The Conjuring 3: Conjuring Harder, the title would've fit. There's a difference between nailing the technical basics and making them engaging, though. This many movies in, The Conjuring Universe should be aiming for more than the former. It definitely shouldn't be cribbing from The Exorcist as gleefully as The Devil Made Me Do It does. Chaves and Johnson-McGoldrick — and Wan, who has a story credit — also forget that if you repeat something too often, it stops being unsettling. In comedy, some gags grow the more they go on, such as The Simpsons' classic Sideshow Bob rake sequence, but the same doesn't prove true in horror when shadowy figures loiter, things keep moving that shouldn't and sounds blast suddenly. All three use the element of surprise, and yet there's no chance anyone watching will be caught unawares by the The Devil Made Me Do It's souped-up demonic antics. And, don't go expecting a meaningful examination of satanic panic, or the way that conservative sections of society need something to blame for life's ills. In this movie, it's just a given that some folks stray from faith, become evil occultists and commit dastardly deeds. As this series has done over and over, it's also a given that femininity draws the short straw. An accused witch, a Raggedy Ann doll, a nun and the ghost of a mother have all symbolised evil in The Conjuring Universe's eyes, but the franchise does look fondly at one woman: Lorraine Warren. As played by Farmiga, she's depicted as the unwavering maternal presence always by Ed's side, and almost the clairvoyant Scully to his demonologist Mulder. It's that dynamic, and the investment that Farmiga and Wilson put into their roles, that keeps prolonging the series. It gives the Conjuring films, including this one, a centre to clutch onto — no matter how much Hollywood sheen has been buffed over the real-life figures, which is plenty. The Devil Made Me Do It needs them, even emphasising their love story, but that feels as standard as everything in the movie. Nonetheless, alongside Australian actor John Noble (Fringe) as a priest, Farmiga and Wilson are the best things about this routine, happily by-the-numbers, never remotely terrifying threequel. Indeed, the fact that more flicks will undoubtably still follow is the scariest thing about the film.
UPDATE: FEBRUARY 12, 2019 — This winter, we'll be able to return to Margaret Atwood's unsettling dystopian realm, with the announcement that the third series of The Handmaid's Tale will hit SBS and SBS On Demand at 8.30pm on Thursday, June 6. Lucky for us Down Under, this is the same time as it'll be dropping on Hulu in the States, so hopefully no spoilers will crop up. The 13-episode series will follow June's (Offred's) continued struggle against the controlling regime. While details are scarce, a teaser was dropped during this month's Super Bowl — which you can watch below. Under his eye. Praise be, Handmaid's Tale fans. The series' third season is due to hit the small screen sometime this year, and US streaming platform Hulu has just released the first sneak peek during the Super Bowl. Blessed be not only the fruit but the football, we guess. If you've been immersed in this world from the absolute beginning and can remember the show's first trailer, then this initial look at the next season will feel somewhat familiar. Of course, that's by design. How better to show just how creepy the fictional society of Gilead is than to start with a dose of recognisable propaganda — and then dive deep into the chaos that awaits Offred/June (Elisabeth Moss) and her fellow subjugated women? As the fiery clip tells us, it's time to wake up. Otherwise, details about the third season are about as scarce as a happy woman in red. The series' regulars are expected to return, and given how the second season wrapped up, expect the story to get even darker, too. While the current trailer may be brief, there's plenty more Handmaid's Tale bleakness to enjoy this year (well, not that enjoy is necessarily the right term). Margaret Atwood, author of the original 1985 novel that started it all, is coming to Sydney next month. And, she's also releasing a long-awaited sequel, called The Testaments, which'll hit bookshelves comes September. https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=11&v=PuWg6AyzETg The Handmaid's Tale's third season will screen on SBS in Australia at 8.30pm on Thursday, June 6.
Sixty years after his death in a car accident at the age of 24, James Dean remains both an icon and an enigma. Much about him, including his hair and stare, have become instantly recognisable and commonly copied. Just as much about him, such as the contrast between his rebellious attitude and his evident shyness, still defies proper description. In Life, writer Luke Davies and director Anton Corbijn attempt to replicate what was seen on the outside and unpack what lurked on the inside of James Dean. That Davies wrote the novel and co-wrote the script of Australian drug drama Candy gives an indication of the intimacy of the storytelling. That Corbijn made his leap from photographs to music videos to movies with Control, a portrait of Joy Division's Ian Curtis, shows the style, patience and perceptiveness so keenly needed in such a biopic. Their approach to the smouldering Dean (as played by Dane DeHaan) is to show rather than tell the essence of the moody star, as seen in a snapshot spanning the lead up to the world premiere of his first film, East of Eden, plus his attempt to secure a role in his second, Rebel Without a Cause. Their entryway into his tragic narrative comes via 26-year-old Dennis Stock (Robert Pattinson), then an aspiring but struggling photographer looking to turn paparazzi gigs into acclaim, art and ongoing work. History already dictates that one of Stock's big breaks came courtesy of the series of candid images he snapped of Dean; however, they only eventuated after much convincing. From first meeting at a Hollywood party to exploits across Los Angeles, New York and Indiana, Life tracks Stock's efforts, Dean's reactions, their problems and personalities, and their blossoming friendship. The film bears the name of the magazine that would ultimately publish the photos, though that it doubles as an expression of a pivotal chapter in both its subjects' existences is always clear. Forget on-set antics and other markers of glitz and glamour, though, with the movie determined to stress that Dean didn't ever want to subscribe to the usual star behaviour. "I don't want to play their stupid games," he complains — and that he's often earning the ire of studio head Jack Warner (Ben Kingsley) by avoiding his publicity tasks also makes that evident. Indeed, Dean is painted as a picture of complexity above all else, and afforded a portrayal to match. DeHaan may be following in James Franco's footsteps again — after playing Spider-Man's Harry Osborn, too — but his efforts here do more than impersonate either figure. His mannerisms conjure the famous actor's mix of awkwardness and panache, so much so that taking your eyes off of him is impossible. That's not to discount Pattinson's latest impressive post-Twilight performance, nor the rapport that springs from the two circling around each other — it's just to highlight DeHaan's intensity. A similar level of concentration and attention to detail emanates in the graceful helming of Corbijn — and the visual precision of cinematographer Charlotte Bruus Christensen. The end result doesn't just step beyond the facade of a cinema treasure or tell the tale behind iconic images, it helps to create the same itself. Indeed, there's ample life in this film, which succeeds in capturing something and someone elusive.
For 353 days each year — 354 days in leap years — Sydney's State Theatre doesn't operate as a cinema. The CBD isn't short on movie-going options, but you can't head to the glorious Market Street spot to get your film fix whenever you like. Understandably, that makes trips to the nearly 100-year-old venue for the Sydney Film Festival all the more special. Sinking into the cavernous auditorium, being surrounded by its gorgeous gothic and art deco architecture, watching movies that may never grace its big screen again — it's the cinephile version of a religious experience. Prepare to worship, Sydney movie lovers. From Wednesday, November 3 till Sunday, November 14, the Sydney Film Festival is back — in person. It's been a difficult couple of years for the prestigious event, after being forced to move online in 2020, and then shift its 2021 dates not once but twice; however, the time for losing yourself in the State Theatre — and other darkened rooms in picture palaces all around Sydney — is finally here. As it does every year, SFF has the lineup for the occasion. What starts with an anthology drama that tells eight tales by Western Sydney writers, then ends with Wes Anderson's latest? That'd be the fest's 2021 program. They're just the bookends, with Festival Director Nashen Moodley's full selection of flicks overflowing with other highlights. The entire bill spans 233 titles, in fact, so we started our festival viewing early — and here's ten exceptional SFF highlights that we've seen, reviewed and eagerly recommend. FLEE When Flee won the World Cinema Documentary Grand Jury Prize at the 2021 Sundance Film Festival, it added its first accolade to its name. The wrenchingly moving animated documentary has nabbed others since, and has plenty more coming its way — and it's already been selected as Denmark's Oscar submission in next year's Best International Feature category as well. Mere minutes into the film, it's easy to see why it keeps garnering awards and attention. Pairing animation with factual storytelling is still rare enough that it stands out, and writer/director Jonas Poher Rasmussen (What He Did) has created one of the best instances of this combination yet. As his subject, Afghani refugee Amin, shares his story, Rasmussen brings every detail to life not just with eye-catching imagery, but with visuals that ripple with empathy at every moment. Flee doesn't tell an easy tale, or a unique one — sadly — but it finds its an immense wealth of power in its vivid, expressive and humanistic approach. Its protagonist, who uses a pseudonym here, is a friend of Rasmussen's; however, no one, including the filmmaker, has ever heard him step through the events that took him from war-torn Kabul to seeking asylum in Copenhagen as a teenager, or to househunting with his boyfriend now. That journey, via Russia, is one of struggle and acceptance. So is an interlude in Sweden which gives the movie its most stunning sequence, as soundtracked to Daft Punk's 'Veridis Quo'. Flee uses its music cues bewitchingly well, actually, but that description also applies to every second of this poignant and shattering film. THE CARD COUNTER Another Paul Schrader film, another lonely man thrust into the spotlight as he wrestles with the world, his place in it and his sense of morality. The acclaimed filmmaker has a resume filled with such characters, and such tales — from his screenplays for Martin Scorsese's brilliant Taxi Driver and Bringing Out the Dead, through to his own directorial efforts such as Light Sleeper and First Reformed. You can't accuse Schrader of always making the same movie, however. Instead, his films feel more like cards from the same deck. Each time he deals one out, it's always part of its own hand, as gambling drama The Card Counter demonstrates with potency, smarts and a gripping search for salvation. The film's title refers to William Tell (Oscar Isaac, Scenes From a Marriage), who didn't ever plan to spend his days in casinos and his nights in motels. But during an eight-year military prison stint, he taught himself a new skill that he's been capitalising upon modestly now that he's back out in the world. Anchored not only by Schrader's reliably blistering probing, but also by Isaac's phenomenal performance — a portrayal that's quiet, slippery and weighty all at once — The Card Counter unpacks the storm brewing behind Tell's calm facade. His status quo is punctured by fellow gambler La Linda (Like a Boss' Tiffany Haddish, in a career-best performance), and also by the college-aged Cirk (Tye Sheridan, Voyagers) and his quest for revenge; however, as the movie delves into Tell's murky history, it also lays bare America's rot and emptiness. COW As its name so clearly explains, Cow devotes its frames to one farmyard animal — and it's one of the most haunting films of the year. It's the third feature to take its title from a four-legged critter this year, after the vastly dissimilar Pig and Lamb. It's also the second observational documentary of late to peer at the daily existence of creatures that form part of humanity's food chain, following the also-exceptional Gunda. And, it also joins 2013's The Moo Man in honing its focus specifically upon dairy farming, and in Britain at that. But the key to Cow is Andrea Arnold, the filmmaker behind Fish Tank, Wuthering Heights, American Honey and the second season of Big Little Lies. She sees Luma, her bovine protagonist, with as much affection and understanding as she's ever seen any of the women who've led her projects. Starting with the birth of Luma's latest calf — and, in the beginning, taking detours to see how it's faring as well — Cow unfurls with the rhythm of its agricultural setting. It's the rhythm of Luma's life, too, as she's milked and fed, moos for the offspring that's taken away too quickly, and is soon impregnated again. There's no doubt where the documentary is headed, either. There's simply no shying away from the fact that Luma and cattle like her only exist for milk or meat. Without offering any narration or on-screen explanation, Arnold stares at these facts directly, while also peering deeply into its bovine subject's eyes as often as possible. The result is hypnotic, inescapably affecting, and also features the best use of Garbage's 'Milk' ever in a movie. MEMORIA It's a match made in cinephile heaven: Thai filmmaker Apichatpong Weerasethakul, the director behind the Cannes Palme d'Or-winning Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives and the just-as-lyrical Cemetery of Splendour, and the on-screen force of nature that is Tilda Swinton. With Memoria, the former directs — and makes his English-language debut, as well as his first feature outside of Thailand — while the latter stars. Yes, they prove a beautiful pairing. Weerasethakul makes contemplative, meditative, visually poetic movies, after all, and Swinton's face screams with all of those traits every single time it graces a film. They're both devastatingly precise in what they do, and also delightfully expressive. They both force you to pay attention to their every choice, too. Swinton (The Personal History of David Copperfield) plays Jessica Holland, a British expat in Colombia who starts hearing a very specific noise. She can describe it in exquisite detail to sound engineer Hernán (Juan Pablo Urrego, My Father), who tries to recreate it for her, but only she can hear it. At the same time, her sister Karen (debutant Agnes Brekke) is a Bogota hospital with a strange ailment. Also, there's word of a curse that's linked to a tunnel being built over a burial ground. No plot description can ever do Weerasethakul's films justice, but Memoria doesn't even dream of linking its various threads in an obvious or straightforward way — and unlocking its puzzles by soaking in every exquisite, patient shot and exacting sound is a mesmerising cinematic experience. GREAT FREEDOM Great Freedom begins with 60s-style video footage captured in public bathrooms, showing Hans Hoffmann (Franz Rogowski, Undine) with other men, and with court proceedings that condemn him to prison purely for being gay. That was the reality in West Germany at the time due to Paragraph 175, which criminalised homosexuality — and, when he's incarcerated at the start of this equally tender and brutal Austrian film, Hans isn't surprised. He's been there before, as writer/director Sebastian Meise (Still Life) conveys almost like he's chronicling time travel. It's a canny touch, as relayed in the movie's cinematography, editing and overall mood. The minutes, days, hours, weeks and more surely move differently when you've been locked up for being who you are, and when being in jail is the better alternative to being in a concentration camp. Meise jumps between Hans' different stretches, exploring the imprint all that time behind bars leaves, the yearning for love and freedom that never dissipates, and his friendship with initially repulsed fellow inmate Viktor (Georg Friedrich, Freud). In the process, Great Freedom resounds with intimate moments and revealing performances, as anchored by another stellar turn by Rogowski. The German talent has had an outstanding few years thanks to Victoria, Happy End, Transit, In the Aisles and Undine. He's as absorbing as he's ever been here, too, in a movie that stares his way so intently — and with such a striking sense of light and shade — that it could be painting his portrait. Friedrich is just as impressive, too, in an outwardly thorny part. RIVER Some actors possess voices that could narrate almost anything, and Willem Dafoe is one of them. He's tasked with uttering quite the elegiac prose in River, but he gives all that musing about waterways — the planet's arteries, he calls them at one point — a particularly resonant and enthralling tone. Australian filmmaker Jennifer Peedom (Sherpa) knew he would, of course. She enlisted his vocal talents on her last documentary, Mountain, as well. Both films pick one of the earth's crucial natural features, captures them in all their glory at multiple spots around the globe, and waxes lyrical about their importance, and both make for quite the beguiling viewing experience. Thanks to writer Robert Macfarlane, Dafoe has been given much to opine in River, covering the history of these snaking streams from the planet's creation up until today. He hones in on their importance to human civilisation — in making much in our evolution possible, in fact, and also the devastation we've wrought in response since we learned to harness all that water for our own purposes. That said, River could've simply paired its dazzling sights with its Australian Chamber Orchestra score and it still would've proven majestic and moving. The footage is that remarkable as it soars high and wide across 39 countries, and peers down with the utmost appreciation. Here, a picture truly is worth a thousand of those Dafoe-uttered words, but the combination of both — plus a score that includes everything from Bach to Radiohead — is something particularly special. BLUE BAYOU Blue Bayou isn't Justin Chon's first film as an actor, writer, director or producer, but it's a fantastic showcase for his many talents nonetheless. It's also a deeply moving feature about a topical subject: America's complicated and often punitive immigration laws. Worlds away from his time in all five Twilight movies, Chon plays Antonio LeBlanc, a Korean American who has lived in the US since being adopted as child. That doesn't stop the casual or the overt racism often directed his way, however, or the deportation proceedings that spring after he's accosted in a supermarket by New Orleans police officers Denny (Emory Cohen, Flashback) and Ace (Mark O'Brien, Marriage Story). The latter happens to be his pregnant wife Kathy's (Alicia Vikander, The Green Knight) ex and father to her daughter Jessie (Sydney Kowalske, Doom Patrol), and that run-in has heartbreaking repercussions. There's a sense of inevitability to Blue Bayou, but by design; the path that Antonio's life is forced down isn't filled with surprises, but it overflows with feeling. Indeed, Chon has helmed a stirring and empathetic yet precise and intricate film, especially when it comes to the emotional toll weathered not only by Antonio, but also by Kathy and Jessie. At every moment, Blue Bayou plunges viewers into their whirlwind. That's true in every shimmering sight, including the movie's fondness for water and water lilies. It's evident in the urgent, bustling pacing, too, and in its key performances. Chon is terrific on-screen and off, while Vikander and scene-stealer Kowalske make just as much of an impact in a feature that hits its points hard, but isn't easily forgotten. WHEEL OF FORTUNE AND FANTASY One of two films by Japanese filmmaker Ryûsuke Hamaguchi that are doing the festival rounds this year — the other, Drive My Car, also screens at SFF — Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy gives three tales about romance, desire and fate a spin. These three stories all muse on chance, choice, identity and echoes as well, and focus on complex women reacting to the vagaries of life and everyday relationships. Coincidence plays a role in each of the trio, too, and commonalities ebb and flow between each dialogue-heavy narrative. In other words, this is a smart, astute and savvily layered triptych from the director behind Happy Hour and Asako I and II, as brought to the screen with excellent performances, a canny knack for domestic drama and piercing long shots in each and ever chapter. In the first part, model Meiko (Kotone Furukawa, 21st Century Girl) discovers that her best friend Tsugumi (Hyunri, Wife of a Spy) has just started seeing her ex-boyfriend Kazuaki (Ayumu Nakajima, Saturday Fiction), and grapples with her complicated feelings while pondering what could eventuate. Next, college student Nao (Katsuki Mori, Sea Opening) is enlisted to seduce Professor Sagawa (Kiyohiko Shibukawa, Tezuka's Barbara) as part of a revenge plan by her lover Sasaki (Shouma Kai, Signal 100). Finally, in a world where the internet has been eradicated due to a virus, Natsuko (Fusako Urabe, Voices in the Wind) and Nana (Aoba Kawai, Marriage with a Large Age Gap) cross paths — thinking that they went to school together decades ago. LIMBO What happens when a group of refugees are sent to await the results of their asylum applications on a Scottish island? That's the question that Limbo ponders. There's no doubting why this second feature from writer/director Ben Sharrock (Pikadero) has been given its moniker; for Syrian musician Omar (Amir El-Masry, Star Wars: Episode IX — The Rise of Skywalker) and his fellow new arrivals to Scotland, there's not much to do in this void between the past and the future but wait, sit at the bus stop, check out the children's playground and loiter near the pay phone. That, and navigate the wide range of reactions from the locals — veering from offensive to thoughtful — and, in Omar's case, feel the weight of his prized possession. He's brought his grandfather's oud with him, which he rarely let go of, but his own musical dreams are in limbo as well. A film can be heartbreaking, tender, insightful and amusing all at once, and Limbo is indeed all of those things. It's both dreamlike and lived-in, too, a blend that suits its title and story — and also the mental and emotional state shared by Omar and his fellow asylum seekers as they bide their time on an island that feels like another world. A movie can be both heavy and light simultaneously as well, which is another of Limbo's strengths. Sharrock sees both seriousness and levity in his narrative, his characters and their plights, and recognises the nightmarish and the beautiful in tandem. The latter especially applies to the feature's haunting cinematography, which lenses a landscape that keeps Omar pals physically in limbo with a probing eye. HONEY CIGAR Forget the awkwardness that typically loiters in coming-of-age movies (the familiar approach: like character, like film). Honey Cigar charts the same kind of narrative, focusing on a 17-year-old French Algerian woman in the 90s, and yet does so with a mood and sense of assurance that couldn't be more candid and confident. This is a feature that feels at home in its own skin at every turn. It flows across the screen with determination and poise, too. It should; in her feature filmmaking debut, writer/director Kamir Aïnouz draws upon what she knows, telling a semi-autobiographical tale — one that isn't just about crossing the chasm from childhood to maturity, but also weaves in Algeria's political landscape during its chosen period. When Honey Cigar begins, Selma (Zoé Adjani, niece of French acting great and recent The World Is Yours delight Isabelle Adjani) is about to dive headfirst into business school. In doing so, she's abiding by her lawyer father (Lyes Salem, Abou Leila) and gynaecologist mother's (Amira Casar, Call Me By Your Name) wishes, with education paramount in their household. But Selma is also a teenager who's just getting in touch with her own desires — something that sits at stark odds with her parents' growing interest in her marriage prospects, especially when she starts seeing classmate Julien (Louis Peres, Mental). A film about agency and control on multiple levels, Honey Cigar also explores multiple generations of women battling traditions and expectations, and finds as much room for adolescent awakenings as hard-earned understanding. Looking for more SFF recommendations? We've already taken a look at a few other films screening at the festival. So, you can also check out our reviews of Petite Maman, The Drover's Wife The Legend of Molly Johnson, Drive My Car, The Worst Person in the World, Zola, Bergman Island, Undine, Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn and Blind Ambition — and I'm Wanita, Strong Female Lead and A Fire Inside, too. The 2021 Sydney Film Festival takes place in Sydney cinemas between Wednesday, November 3–Sunday, November 14. For further information, head to the festival website.
Snow White and the Huntsman (or as it might alternatively be known: "The Girl Who Forgot How To Smile"), is the second version of the famous Brothers Grimm fairytale to hit screens this year, and it's certainly the better of the two. Pursued by an evil witch and loved by two men sworn to protect her, Kristen Stewart plays the eponymous 'Bella', a withdrawn teenager whose...I'm sorry, I meant 'Snow White' - a withdrawn teenager whose unmatched beauty represents the witch's best chance at everlasting life - or as she tautologically describes it: "immortality forever". Charlize Theron plays the villainous queen Ravenna: murderer of Snow White's father and narcissist extreme. Her magical beauty (which rather awkwardly trumps Stewart's to all but the most subjective observer) is maintained by the dastardly act of sucking the youth directly out of the mouths of all the kingdom's attractive girls. Snow White manages to escape Ravenna's clutches before her own beauty can be tapped, setting up the dogged pursuit with which the bulk of the film is concerned. All the familiar elements are there in the story, like the poisoned apples and the seven dwarves (played both remarkably and controversially by some of England's leading regular-sized men, including: Bob Hoskins, Ian McShane, Ray Winstone and Nick Frost), along with some new elements like Chris Hemsworth's character Eric the Huntsman. It's darker than one might expect for a film clearly hoping to cash in on the Twilight/Tween market, though just the right amount of dark for a standard Grimm tale. Stewart brings a certain Joan of Arc quality to her version of the heroine, donning chain-mail and leading the charge during the film's climax, however even in its dialled-down capacity her trademark 'dour intensity' seems at odds with the 'fairest in the land' label. It's all a little 'Snow Grey' for what's meant to represent the diametric counterpoint to Ravenna's dark heart and sonorous demeanour, and it's actually Theron's scenes that ultimately shine brightest. Snow White and the Huntsman marks the directorial debut for Rupert Sanders, whose previous work was predominantly in commercials. It's a visually rich production and Sanders should be praised for his determination to favour real locations over green screens and CGI. However, he sometimes feels a little too preoccupied with appearance while too light on substance; something one might easily say of Stewart's performance, too. Snow White and the Huntsman is a good film with some great scenes, but too many characters and an unconvincing lead keep it from achieving any real distinction.
