Sit in a chair. Embrace the otherworldly. Whether you're ready for it or not — physically and emotionally alike — bear witness to the dead being summoned. Speak to those who are no longer in the land of the living. Perhaps, while you're chatting, get caught in a dialogue with something nefarious as well. Talk to Me used this setup to audience-wowing and award-winning effect. Now comes Baghead, which stems from a short film that pre-dates 2023's big Australian-made horror hit, and was shot before Michael and Danny Philippou's A24-distributed flick played cinemas, but still brings it to mind instantly. Audiences can be haunted by what they've seen before, especially in a busy, ever-growing genre where almost everything is haunted anyway and few pictures feel genuinely new. Here, there's no shaking how Talk to Me gnaws at Baghead. First-time feature filmmaker Alberto Corredor adapts his own applauded short, which picked up gongs at film festivals around the globe. Both of his movies — abridged and full-length — possess the same moniker as a mumblecore effort starring Greta Gerwig before she was directing Lady Bird, Little Women and Barbie. That's where the similarities between 2008's Baghead and 2024's end, but the new Baghead doesn't stop conjuring up thoughts of other flicks. The director and screenwriters Christina Pamies (another debutant) and Bryce McGuire (Night Swim) make grief their theme, and with commitment; the pain of loss colours the movie as much as its shadowy imagery. But, despite boasting two dedicated performances, Corredor's Baghead is routine again and again. At The Queen's Head in Berlin, Owen Lark (Peter Mullan, The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power) oversees a ramshackle four-centuries-old pub where customers aren't there for the drinks. The basement is the big drawcard for those in the know, with the being that resides in it, in a hole in a brick wall, luring punters in the door. Everyone who arrives with cash and a plea for help is in mourning. When Neil (Jeremy Irvine, Benediction) makes an entrance, he knows exactly what he wants. Baghead begins not with Owen letting his latest patron meet the entity that shares the movie's title, though, but with him endeavouring to vanquish it. If he was successful, there'd be no film from there. Because he isn't, his estranged daughter Iris (Freya Allan, The Witcher) is summoned to the German city by a solicitor (Ned Dennehy, The Peripheral), becoming the watering hole's next owner. It's thanks to Neil that Iris discovers Baghead's namesake. In addition to being determined to talk to his deceased wife, he's persistent. And yes, the witchy being does sport a sack, which is removed when it is spends 120 seconds transforming into another soul. Also, the $2000 that Neil is offering is more than a little helpful for the twentysomething who grew up in the foster system after her mother's (Saffron Burrows, White Widow) death, just had her landlord change the locks on her and only can only lean on her best friend Katie (Ruby Barker, Bridgerton). Potential financial benefits, plus a roof over her head, are why she agrees to sign up for taking over the bar to start with. No amount of money could compensate for becoming saddled with a necromancer that doesn't want to be holed up underground and has a bag of tricks to mess with anyone willing to use its eerie skills, however. A VHS tape from Iris' dad detailing instructions can't stop Baghead, either. As Scream satirised three decades back in the slasher realm but horror loves in general, there are rules. There's also consequences for not abiding by them. Exceed the time limit with Baghead and the malevolent creature could spirit up anyone. Going into the cavern beneath the tavern is also forbidden — and so is Iris trying to snatch time with her own lost loved ones now that she's the entity's guardian. With the basics laid out, and viewers knowing that all of the above will happen, the predictable plot's expected beats become a matter of if rather than when. There's no subtlety to the storytelling, nor to the tension-courting score or gloomy visuals. Luckily, Baghead does have both Allan and Mullan, even if the latter isn't around for long (but longer than getting bumped off in the introduction would mean if this wasn't a flick about conversing with the fallen). In her first lead film role, as well as just her ninth screen credit — The Third Day and Gunpowder Milkshake are among the others; Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, the fourth flick in the current Planet of the Apes franchise, will become the tenth within months — Allan takes convincingly to being a horror heroine. Iris is also a horror-movie character who has clearly never seen a horror movie in her life given her choices, but emotion anchors Allan's performance. The star best-known as Crown Princess Cirilla of Cintra to-date tries to help the film overcome its many cliches; that it can't is never on her shoulders. Mullan, one of Scotland's great acting talents since the 90s, is also crucial, particularly for getting audiences paying attention at the outset. Baghead doesn't match his intensity, but it's better for having him brooding within its Cale Finot (Leopard Skin)-lensed frames. If viewers only had two minutes to choose a recent back-from-the-dead feature to watch, Baghead isn't the pick. That said, although it hardly dives deep or does much with it, it understands grief. That the picture's protagonist is another of Baghead's characters with unresolved emotions tied to losing someone might sound too neat, yet thankfully it isn't. Setting up a sequel proves clunky. Attempting to add a feminist spin plays too conveniently. Facing loss: that resonates. Corredor, Pamies and McGuire know how pervasive that mourning is, and how universal that grappling with mortality is, too. In fact, if Iris didn't have her own brush with loss, as everyone has, that'd stand out. If only Baghead's creative forces knew how to build a film that wasn't so by the numbers around its premise — and for 94 minutes.
Everyone should see Henry Rollins on a stage. Luckily, audiences have had ample opportunities for more than four decades. The musician first came to fame singing behind the microphone in punk-rock band Black Flag and then Rollins Band, but is now just as renowned for his spoken-word shows, where he waxes lyrical (and candid and amusing) about his life, fame and the state of the world. Australians are no stranger to Rollins getting chatty; however, thanks to the pandemic, he hasn't taken to stages Down Under since 2016. That's changing this winter, with the icon, actor, author and radio host heading around the country on a 17-city tour. Rollins' spoken-word gigs always sell out, and they're always an entertaining — and unflinchingly honest — night spent listening to the Sons of Anarchy, Lost Highway and Heat star. This time, he's visiting both capitals and regional centres, and notching up every Aussie state and territory, on a tour dubbed 'Good to See You'. His Sydney stop: on Wednesday, June 28 at the State Theatre. Attendees can look forward to Rollins looking back over the past seven years since he last visited Australia, stepping through his life from 2016 until COVID-19 hit — and, of course, exploring what's happened since. Fingers crossed for more mullet insights, too. Rollins makes his way around Australia after a massive leg in Europe, where he's been flitting from Croatia, Poland and Finland to Sweden, Germany, France and the United Kingdom — and more. And, his latest tour comes after he added two more books to his name in 2022: Sic, which draws upon the frustration of not knowing if his touring life would ever return; and Stay Fanatic!!! Vol. 3. Top image: Morten Jensen via Wikimedia Commons.
Great news, fans of LGBTQIA+ cinema: Mardi Gras Film Festival organiser Queer Screen is back with its second cinema celebration of 2023. That happens every year, but it's only been recently that the Sydney-based outfit's two fests both stream online — and nationally. So, getting cosy on the couch while watching your way through this year's Queer Screen Film Fest is 100-percent on the agenda between Wednesday, August 23–Sunday, September 3. Whether you're a Sydneysider with too heaving a social calendar to hit the picture palace in-person or you live outside of the Harbour City, a feast of new queer highlights and retrospective standouts awaits. Must-sees include the Berlin-set Drifter; the AIDS in Hollywood-focused Commitment to Life; and Equal the Contest, which follows regional women's Australian rules football team Mount Alexander Falcons in an exploration of the barriers still faced for women and gender-diverse people on the field. Gay, sapphic, and trans and gender-diverse shorts sessions are also streaming. And those retro titles? They span Anchor & Hope, about a trio's complicated relationship; German coming-of-age romance Centre of My World; rom-com Nina's Heavenly Delights, focusing on a woman reuniting with her Indian family in Scotland; and the southern Chile-set The Strong Ones.
Each year, the folks at Sydney-based film festival organisers Queer Screen ask an excellent question, and answer it in the best way possible. That query: what's better than one queer-focused film festival popping up every 12 months? The response: two, of course. Here's another train of thought that the crew have been posing, too: what's better than two celebrations of LGBTQIA+ cinema in Harbour City picture palaces? The solution here: sharing the love by taking the movie-worshipping online nationally. Queer Screen runs the Mardi Gras Film Festival during the first half of every year, so that's been and gone for 2023. It also gives cinephiles the Queer Screen Film Fest later each year — and that's next on the agenda. This isn't any old QSFF, either. It's the event's tenth anniversary, and the fest is marking that milestone with more than 30 films, plus that online component for audiences across Australia. For those playing along in-person, the physical fest runs from Wednesday, August 23–Sunday, August 27 at Event Cinemas George Street. For people on the couch, you'll have until Sunday, September 3 to get streaming. And that 30-plus films includes ten narrative features, three documentary features, four retrospective flicks getting encores, two TV shows and 19 shorts from 11 different countries. There's more range if you hit up a cinema rather than your television, but it's a mighty impressive lineup all the same. Opening the Sydney sessions is Blue Jean, a four-time British Independent Film Award-winner about a lesbian teacher in Thatcher's England — and, at the other end of the fest, Theatre Camp will close out QSFF 2023 with a crowd-pleasing comedy about loving the stage, as starring and co-written and co-directed by Booksmart and The Bear's Molly Gordon. Elsewhere, the lineup includes Cannes Palm d'Or-winning Shoplifters filmmaker Hirokazu Kore-eda's Monster, which picked up this year's Queer Palm; Marinette, about soccer legend Marinette Pichon (and, yes, arriving just after the Women's World Cup); Busan International Film Festival hit Peafowl, about a Korean trans woman's homecoming; and Medusa Deluxe, which jumps into a hairstyle competition. There's also the Berlin-set Drifter, page-to-screen drama Lie with Me and Indigo Girls doco It's Only Life After All, plus the AIDS in Hollywood-focused Commitment to Life. Or, heading back into sports, Equal the Contest follows regional women's Australian rules football team Mount Alexander Falcons in an exploration of the barriers still faced for women and gender-diverse people on the field.
Before it busts out licking lucky cats, K-pop-style Cardi B covers, cocaine enemas, threesome injuries and intimate tattoos, Joy Ride begins with a punch. For most of the movie, Audrey Sullivan (Ashley Park, Beef) and Lolo Chen (Sherry Cola, Good Trouble) are nearing 30, travelling in China and going on a wild journey in a gleefully raucous comedy. In the 1998-set prologue in White Falls, Washington, though, they're five-year-olds (debutants Lennon Yee and Milana Wan) first meeting, being taunted by a racist playground bully and responding with the outgoing Lolo's fist. Crazy Rich Asians and Raya and the Last Dragon screenwriter Adele Lim uses her directorial debut's opening scene not just to start a fast and firm friendship, but to establish the film's tone, sense of humour and, crucially, its willingness to fight. Joy Ride will ultimately get sentimental; however, this is a movie that beats up cultural prejudices and stereotypes by letting its four main female and non-binary Asian American characters grapple with them while being complicated and chaotic. Hollywood should be well past representation being such a noteworthy factor. That should've happened long before Bridesmaids and Bachelorette gave The Hangover's template a ladies-led spin more than a decade ago, and prior to Girls Trip spending time four Black women on a raucous weekend away six years back. Reality proves otherwise, sadly, so Joy Ride openly addresses the discrimination and pigeonholing slung Audrey, Lolo, and their pals Kat (Everything Everywhere All At Once Oscar-nominee Stephanie Hsu) and Deadeye's (comedian and movie first-timer Sabrina Wu) ways — and in Audrey's case, after being adopted as a baby by the white Sullivans (The Recruit's David Denman and Bridesmaids' co-writer Annie Mumolo), internalised. With its booze- and sex-fuelled antics, Lim's film could've simply been formulaically entertaining, just with Asian American characters in Asia. It certainly doesn't hold back with its raunchy setpieces. But it's a better and more thoughtful feature because it engages with the diasporic experience; "I'm just a garbage American who only speaks English," Audrey chides herself, which the picture she's in unpacks. The full Joy Ride equation, then, also treads in The Farewell and Everything Everywhere All At Once's impressive and rightly acclaimed footsteps. Tellingly, Lim and her co-screenwriters Cherry Chevapravatdumrong and Teresa Hsiao, both of whom boast Awkwafina Is Nora From Queens on their resumes, originally had Joy Fuck Club as their film's working title. Also revealing: that Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg's production company Point Grey Pictures is behind the movie, after previously giving cinemas flicks like Bad Neighbours and its sequel, This Is the End, The Night Before, Sausage Party, Blockers, Long Shot and Good Boys. Getting culturally specific; dismantling Asian cliches; examining identity, belonging and displacement; being hilariously bawdy: Joy Ride always feels like the sum of these easily spotted parts, but it also always feels genuine. As children, Audrey and Lolo are thrust together due to their shared heritage — "are you Chinese?," the Sullivans ask the Chens (The Midnight Club's Kenneth Liu and Platonic's Debbie Fan) in that introductory sequence, which inspires a shared glance that says everything — but they're a chalk-and-cheese pair personality-wise. Before the young Lolo smacks their tormentor, Audrey is cowering. As adults, Lolo makes sex-positive art riffing on Chinese culture that hasn't yet brought her success, while Audrey is a fast-rising lawyer eyeing a promotion at a firm filled with white men (such as Don't Worry Darling's Timothy Simons). Lolo lives in Audrey's garage, is steeped in her culture and content being herself. Audrey names Mumford & Sons and The National as her favourite bands, and can list Succession characters instantly. As they head to China so that Audrey can close a big deal, with Lolo along for the ride as her personal translator, the latter is excited about seeing family, while the former is guilty of making wary assumptions about what the trip will be like. When Lolo's K-pop-obsessed cousin Deadeye joins them at the airport, it's the first surprise that's thrown Audrey's way. The bickering between Lolo and Kat, Audrey's college roommate-turned- Chinese soap-opera star, over who's truly her BFF — that she easily foresees. This wouldn't be a wild getaway comedy if there weren't more bolts out of the blue coming at Audrey, of course, kicking off with a drink-heavy night trying to get her client Chao (Ronny Chieng, M3GAN) to sign, which leads to a cross-country quest to find her birth mother. Drugs, sex, vomit, a faux band, 'WAP', a distracted basketball team, vagina-view camerawork: that all follows. So does a fateful train ride that's utter pandemonium in a completely different way to Mission: Impossible — Dead Reckoning Part One, and Kat trying to hide her between-the-sheets past from her very Christian fiancé (Desmond Chiam, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier). Lim weaves Audrey's journey of acceptance and discovery, embracing her background and realising the eager-to-please and assimilate part that she's unwittingly played since childhood, throughout a zippy and brightly shot madcap romp of a movie. And, she largely finds the right balance — including as Lolo refuses to be anyone but herself; the blunt, introverted but caring Deadeye yearns to be liked for being themself; and Kat struggles with knowing how to be true to her real self beyond the demure, polite and dutiful front that she's been putting on professionally and personally. Along the way, Joy Ride revels in a candy-coloured dance number, lets Asian men be ripped and lusted after, and, yes, gets mawkish when it comes time to tie everything up neatly. Sometimes it's sidesplittingly funny, sometimes it's only eagerly trying to be, but it's aptly never happy slipping into one easy category. At their best when Joy Ride is either at its most manic and outrageous, or its weightiest and intelligent, Park, Cola, Hsu and Wu are a dream cast. If the film wants to stick to The Hangover setup by sparking sequels, teaming its core quartet up again and again would be keenly welcomed after this first go-around. Park has the trickiest and straightest role, Cola the brassiest, Hsu the lewdest and Wu the most awkward — and each nails the task while giving the film a fleshed-out, multi-faceted, smart, striving, relatably imperfect crew, and actively dispelling the idea that to be Asian American is to be a monoculture. Indeed, their energy and authenticity, and Lim's behind the lens, sometimes eclipses Joy Ride's jokes — and that couldn't be a better problem to have.
When a food-themed day is worth celebrating, it's usually focusing on a dish you'd eat any day (and wish you could tuck into every single day, in fact). World Burger Day is one such occasion, and it's coming in strong for 2023 with free burgs. The catch? You do have to buy a glass of wine, which you'll surely be fine with. If you usually pair your burgers with beer, wine label Greasy Fingers is well-ware. That's one of the reasons that it's behind the giveaway. This drop is made to go well with burgs and whichever other greasy meals happen to tempt your tastebuds, no matter whether you opt for the shiraz, shiraz grenache or chardonnay. [caption id="attachment_902457" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Will Salkeld Photography[/caption] So, buy a glass at Marrickville Bowls and Donny's in Sydney on Sunday, May 28, then get your free burg. That's all there is to it, although you'll need to get in quick. The other key caveat: there are only 100 free burgers available at each venue, so it's a case of first in, first served.
Pairing a trip to the movies with some popcorn or a choc top is right up there in classic combo territory. But you can do better. There's nothing wrong with that mix — it's a cinema staple for a reason — but a cocktail and a film is a stellar duo as well. That's what's on the bill at Sydney's boutique Golden Age Cinema, which is once again teaming up with Four Pillars Gin for a mini booze and film festival. Each Wednesday night in July, the intimate 56-seat Surry Hills spot is going with a slasher theme — and pouring concoctions made with Four Pillars' wares, obviously, focusing on its 2023 bloody gin range. On the bill at Slasher Sirens: A Gin & Film Festival: the iconic giallo scares of the OG 70s version of Suspiria, which'll forever change the way you think about dance schools and kicks off the program on Wednesday, July 5; and Scream, also going back to the initial flick, on Wednesday, July 12. There'll be buckets of blood on Wednesday, July 19 thanks to Carrie — the original again, not the remake — and Megan Fox getting demonic on Wednesday, July 26 with Jennifer's Body. Tickets are $24 per film, and each screening starts at 8.30pm. On opening night, you can also spend an extra $25 for a once-off mini tasting of three Four Pillars gins at 7pm. Whichever night you head along, there'll be cocktails on offer, including the Winter Fizz. It's made with Bloody Shiraz Gin, plus grapefruit soda, maraschino, lime and egg whites — and undoubtedly goes well with movie snacks. [caption id="attachment_779832" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Cassandra Hannagan[/caption]
Calling all Scandi cinema diehards, Nordic noir buffs, fans of the region's oft-icy climes, and lovers of mythology and folklore: the 2023 Scandinavian Film Festival has something on its lineup for you. When it gets frosty in Australia each year, this big-screen showcase celebrates titles primarily hailing from Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway and Sweden — and its latest lineup is full of must-see highlights. Screening from Tuesday, July 18–Wednesday, August 9 at Palace Norton, Palace Central and Chauvel Cinema in Sydney, the fest's latest program will kick off with the Australian premiere of Let the River Flow, which won the Audience Award at this year's Göteborg Film Festival. Based on a true tale, it tells of a young woman who unintentionally becomes involved in a protest against a dam, with the new structure set to possibly flood Indigenous Sámi land. The standouts keep coming, such as Godland from Icelandic filmmaker Hlynur Pálmason (A White, White Day), which gets the festival's centrepiece slot — and Fallen Leaves, the latest from Finnish great Aki Kaurismäki's (The Other Side of Hope). Both hit the Scandi Film Festival after bowing locally at other events around the country. Also boasting a high-profile name is Burn All My Letters, which follows the consequences of a love affair, and stars Barbarian and John Wick: Chapter 4's Bill Skarsgård. Or, there's Swedish thriller Shadow Island, Darkland sequel Darkland: The Return and psychological drama Copenhagen Does Not Exist for devotees of Nordic cinema's dark side. If that's your favourite way to get a Scandi film fix, you'll also be in your element with Scandi Screams, the fest's six-movie retrospective. That's where that focus on myths and eerie tales comes in, and of course Let the Right One In is on the lineup. So is Ari Aster's Midsommar, the Oscar-nominated Border, Mads Mikkelsen in Valhalla Rising, twisted Christmas flick Rare Exports and the fantasy-heavy Troll Hunter. Back to the event's slate of recent releases, comedy lovers can get excited about Iceland's dinner party-set Wild Game, Denmark's Fathers & Mothers and The Land of Short Sentences, the new film in The Grump franchise, and absurdist-leaning period piece Empire. Also on the lineup: Unruly, another 2023 Göteborg Film Festival award-winner, this time for Best Nordic Film; documentary The King, about Swedish King Carl XVI Gustaf; Munch, a dramatisation of the Norwegian artist's life; coming-of-age drama Norwegian Dream; One Day All This Will Be Yours, about a Swedish cartoonist and her siblings dividing up the family farmland; and polyamory love story Four Little Adults.
Canines are so beloved in cinema that the Cannes Film Festival even gives them a gong: the Palm Dog, which has been awarded to a performing pooch (sometimes several) annually since 2001. Among the past winners sit pups in Marie Antoinette, Up, The Artist, Paterson, Dogman and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood — most real, one animated, some anointed posthumously and none scoring their prize for a quest to bite off someone's penis. That genitals-chomping journey belongs to the four-legged stars of Strays alone. They're played by actual animals, with CGI assisting with moving lips and particularly raucous turns, and they're unlikely to win any accolades for this raunchy lost-dog tale. The pooches impress. They're always cute. Also, they're capable of digging up laughs. But Strays is a one-bark idea that's tossed around as repetitively as throwing a tennis ball to your fluffy pal: take a flick about adorable dogs, and talking ones at that, then make it crude and rude. Games of fetch do pop up in Strays, but via a version that no loving pet owner would ever want to play. This one is called "fetch and fuck", with stoner and constant masturbator Doug (Will Forte, I Think You Should Leave with Tim Robinson) doing the pitching. He isn't a kindly human companion to Reggie (voiced by Will Ferrell, Barbie). He's cruel and resentful after his girlfriend adopted the border terrier as a pupper, then left him when the dog exposed his cheating — and he insisted upon keeping the pooch purely out of spite. So, he constantly drives Reggie to various distant spots. He sends him running. As soon as the ball is in the air, Doug hightails it. The canine isn't supposed to follow him back, but does every single time, hence the expletive part of the pastime's name. With unwavering affection, plus the naivety to only see the good in his chosen person, Reggie thinks that it's all meant to be fun. Being abandoned in a city hours away, and meeting Boston terrier Bug (Jamie Foxx, They Cloned Tyrone), Australian shepherd Maggie (Isla Fisher, Wolf Like Me) and great dane Hunter (Randall Park, Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania) while he's there, soon has Reggie realising the truth about his relationship with Doug. Cue Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar director Josh Greenbaum and American Vandal creator/writer Dan Perrault sending the pup on a revenge mission with his new dog squad trotting along to help. Really, cue a parade of canines-gone-wild antics, each instance more OTT than the last. Urinating on something to claim it as your own and humping a grimy outdoor couch are just the beginning. Getting intimate with a garden gnome, squirrel threesomes, tripping on mushrooms, trying to use Hunter's great member to escape from doggy jail and a steaming pile of poop jokes: they are as well. Homeward Bound: The Incredible Journey, A Dog's Purpose, Beethoven, every family-friendly pooch flick, any treacly ode to human's best friend: Strays definitely isn't in their pack. Depending on your fondness for super-sweet dog films, that isn't a bad thing. Cat & Dogs, Doctor Dolittle, Marmaduke, Babe, Paddington: Strays doesn't join those talking-animal pictures either. Instead, as Greenbaum and Perrault riff on the fact that canines love doing everything that humans do, their feature has more in common with Sausage Party, Ted, Good Boys (not a dog movie) and The Happytime Murders. Taking something that's usually for all-ages audiences, then ensuring that it 100-percent isn't: that's the formula that Strays seeks as eagerly and forcefully as a tail-wagger sprinting after a hurled stick. Smearing straightforward gags about sex, drugs, crotches and bodily functions through a story about endearing pups isn't the film's best trait, even if that's the number-one approach and aim. Again, getting foul-mouthed and lewd with pooches is the entire concept and reason that the movie exists, but hitting the same beats over and over, then over and over some more, makes its 93-minute running time seem far longer than it is. Unsurprisingly, some comic bits are worn out quicker than a mutt's favourite chew toy. Strays is a better and funnier flick, however, when it's doing two things: leaning gleefully into the surreal and grounding its humour in perceptive insights into dog behaviour. Glorious silliness doesn't come as easily to Greenbaum as it should, though — Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar is one of the best absurdist comedies of the 2020s, and best comedies in general — but it leads to a few standout moments. One involves fireworks experienced from the canine perspective. Another brings in bunnies. Both are memorable (as are a winking mid-picture celebrity cameo that riffs on the dog-movie genre and the use of Miley Cyrus' 'Wrecking Ball' at a pivotal moment). Strays also isn't afraid to get dark; it might be as predictable overall as a dog licking a bone, dishing up exactly what audiences expect, but it largely craps all over schmaltz. It's less convincing when it's trying to skew deep, with musings on self-worth, emotional trauma, and folks who bring pets into their lives with selfish and attention-seeking motives well-meaning but treated flimsily. Perhaps it's fitting that Strays flits between perky (when it's bounding beyond the obvious) and sleepy (when it's happy chasing its own tail); IRL, the critters at its centre often do. Still, one thing can't be underestimated: the impact of the movie's voice work and animal cast. The wrong vocals would've left the film doing nothing but howling, and looking shoddy would've had it burying itself from frame one. Playing Reggie as an earnest child who navigates the world with curiosity and trust, Ferrell is basically in Elf mode, but it worked there and does the same here. Perfecting the pint-sized Bug's big-dog syndrome, Foxx is all swagger — while Fisher charms breezily and Park deadpans. And, even though it takes special-effects wizardry to make Strays' main quartet appear as if they're speaking, the real-life pups earn themselves ample treats. Although they still won't be winning any shiny trophies, they ensure that this hit-and-miss picture is just like people: better just by having dogs around.
While Messina's main jam is usually crafting supremely scoffable varieties of gelato, the brand's love of food extends far beyond the freezer. The cult gelateria has often teamed up with savoury-focused culinary heroes, throwing big ol' food parties. While these tasty pop-ups used to be hosted in the carpark of Messina's Rosebery store, the recent unveiling of a massive new Marrickville HQ means they're on the move. Following the Baba's Place and Whole Beast Butchery collaboration, the carpark parties will continue with an old favourite from back in Rosebery, Hoy Pinoy. The Filipino barbecue masters have been teaming up with Messina for years now, with the duo set to take things to another level at this latest iteration in Marrickville across Friday, June 23–Saturday, June 24 — running from midday until late. The team will be grilling up skewers of beef rump, chicken and pork belly, as well as corned beef brisket loaded fries, steamed rice with green papaya pickles and a massive next-level barbecue plate. Opt for the latter and you'll be treated to bistek tagalog-glazed beef, pakpak adobo wings, pork belly sausage, steamed rice and Filipino pickles. For dessert, Messina will be whipping up monay milk buns filled with your choice of ube, leche flan, cheese or pandan gelato. And, to drink, there'll be a combination of sweetened coconut milk and pandan jellies.
Surry Hills grill house Porteño will play host to an immersive evening of smoke, peat and meat with Laphroaig Tales of Fire featuring Adelaide grilling master Jake Kellie for one night only on Thursday, September 7. Tales of Fire brings together taste trailblazers in the world of whisky and food to celebrate both. Always drawn to the flame of fire-powered cooking, Kellie is the former Head Chef of the Michelin-starred barbeque restaurant Burnt Ends in Singapore. After returning to Australia, the accomplished chef opened his new trailblazing venue Arkhé in Adelaide in 2021. Kellie will share his tales of fire as he showcases his distinct fire-cooking skills. Together with Porteño's Elvis Abrahanowicz, Ben Milgate and the rest of the Surry Hills crew, Kellie will serve up a cracker five-course smoky masterpiece that combines the elements that make up Laphroaig Whisky: salt, peat and fire. To whet your palate, Kellie has hinted that Kaviari Paris caviar and Mayura Station 40-day dry-aged signature series striploin will both be making an appearance on the menu. Each course will be paired with carefully selected scotch cocktails and guests will also enjoy a Laphroaig-tasting flight. This will include the incredibly rare Laphroaig x Francis Mallmann Limited Edition collab, a 17-year-old expression finished in a white Madeira cask that was hand-chosen by Patagonian fire chef and Laphroaig Taste Trailblazing partner, Francis Mallmann. There are only 276 bottles in the world and one will set you back 800 euros — this could be one of your only chances to taste it. [caption id="attachment_602532" align="alignnone" width="1280"] Steven Woodburn[/caption]
If you love craft beer, add this event to your roster. Beloved Inner West craft brewery Willie the Boatman is celebrating its tenth Beer and Food Truck Festival in Precinct 75 on Saturday, October 28, from 11am until 5pm. Slinging beers since 2014, Willie the Boatman has been at the forefront of Sydney's craft beer scene, scoring numerous accolades in its storied existence. The brewery is committed to promoting a sense of community, which is brought to life by its practice of naming its beers after friends and local legends — like the 'Andy Smash' hazy pale and 'Albo' pale ale. This year, the beer peddlers are spreading the craft beer love by spotlighting a range of regional NSW breweries. This year will see Six String trekking down from Central Coast, Seeker Brewing heading up from Wollongong, Stoic from Gerringong and Social Brewers from Mortdale, allowing Sydney craft beer lovers to explore the creativity of brewers outside the city craft beer scene. There will be an array of gourmet food trucks on site to keep punters well-fuelled, including woodfired pizzas from That's Amore, scrumptious burgers and truffle fries from Jinny Burger, vegan and vegetarian eats from Vejoe, and many more. The festival has something for all the family, with a kids' play area that includes a jumping castle and free face painting. Your furry friends are welcome as well. You can't have a party without some tunes. Vibes and live music will be provided by classic bar band The Pragmatics, who will perform live in the festival centre. Willie the Boatman's tenth Beer and Food Truck Festival is taking over Precinct 75 on Saturday, October 28, from 11am until 5pm. Tickets cost $15 and are available to book on the website. Images: Alexander Hoy
Money can't buy you love, as four mop-topped Brits first sang 59 years ago, but it can buy you tickets to see the music legend who wrote one of the catchiest pop tracks ever released — and co-performed it — play it live in Australia. When Paul McCartney heads Down Under this spring, he'll have a wealth of material to choose from. One of his favourite openers: 'Can't Buy Me Love'. Hitting our shores for the first time since 2017 on his Got Back tour, McCartney will work through a massive catalogue of hits from his time in The Beatles, Wings and also across his solo career. In Sydney, Sir Paul has a two-night date with Allianz Stadium across Friday, October 27–Saturday, October 28. This tour will commemorate almost six decades since the band that helped McCartney make history famously toured Australia in 1964 amid a wave of Beatlemania. In Adelaide all of those years back, it's estimated that 350,000 people lined the streets to get a glimpse of the group, packing the stretch between the airport and Town Hall. McCartney's Got Back setlist has featured everything from 'Hey Jude', 'Let It Be' and 'Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da' to 'Love Me Do', 'Blackbird' and 'Got to Get You Into My Life' from The Beatles across its stops so far. Yes, 'Get Back' gets a whirl. Wings tunes 'Live and Let Die', 'Band on the Run', 'Letting Go' and 'Junior's Farm' usually pop up, too, as does McCartney's own 'Maybe I'm Amazed'. The Got Back tour kicked off in the US in February 2022, wrapping up last year's run with a massive Glastonbury set. McCartney now brings his usual band — keyboardist Paul 'Wix' Wickens, bassist and guitarist Brian Ray, fellow guitarist Rusty Anderson and drummer Abe Laboriel Jr — our way after picking up a Helpmann Award for Best International Contemporary Concert for his last visit. Images: MPL Communications.
We don't have to tell you how hard the cost-of-living crisis is hitting right now. Things are a bit dire, and that means that Sydneysiders are always on the hunt for a deal. One spot that understands this is Costi's Fish and Chips in Quay Quarter. The popular takeaway spot is marking the day that the Reserve Bank announces its next decision on interest rates by offering a hearty lunch for just $4. The cheaper-than-chips meal will be available between 11am–3pm on Tuesday, September 5 at Costi's, and will feature grilled salmon, chips and salad. Clocking in under a fiver, this has to be the cheapest lunch available in all of Sydney. The deal is in collaboration with Tasmanian fishery Petuna, who is supplying the fresh salmon to be used in the meal. "We couldn't say no to such a fantastic opportunity, we're happy to be supporting our friends at Costi's Fish and Chips and treating the Sydney community to some of our high-quality and sustainable salmon," said the Head of Business Development at Petuna Jessica Ammann. "We all deserve a proper treat at the moment and there's nothing that quite says Sydney like fresh seafood," says Costi's Fish and Chips Founder Christopher Micallef. If you can't make it down on the first Tuesday in September, keep an eye out because the deal is set to return twice more in October and November.
Want to explore Vivid through a method that's brand new and a teeny bit unconventional? Then this sharing-focused event at House Canteen is calling your name. This Vivid-exclusive pop-up is a six-night dinner and games event dubbed 'Taste, See, Connect' during the festival's 2024 run. Spontaneity is at the heart of the dinners, with the event runners hoping to keep those in attendance on their toes and engaged in the activities and food on offer, as well as their fellow participants and the accompanying light shows. At House Canteen, you'll be able to tuck into a six-course sharing menu by Chef Fernando Sanchez while enjoying the company of fellow attendees and soaking up the stunning Sydney Harbour installations. Plus, you'll be subjected to icebreaker activities such as Jenga, conversation starter cards and communal tablecloths to doodle away on. You may even be prompted to do a seat switcheroo during your meal. The aim of the game — and the entire evening — is to step outside your comfort zone by meeting new people in a similar setting and, through the activities, learn to appreciate the shared human experience. As for the bites on offer, you'll be met with an Asian-leaning feast, with entrees like tuna tartare, sashimi and pork belly-stuffed bao buns, followed by a glazed beef short rib with rice, stir-fried greens, edamame and papaya salad to pair. To round out the meal, you'll sink your teeth into a yuzu meringue tart. Take your pick from 6pm or 8pm slots on Monday, May 27; Tuesday, May 28; Monday, June 3; Tuesday, June 4; Tuesday, June 11; or Wednesday, June 12 during the dazzling festivities. Tickets are priced at $49 per person, which is quite the steal. Drinks, however, are not included in the ticket price and will need to be purchased separately. If you're onboard with the additional spending, House Canteen has curated four limited-edition cocktails themed around Vivid, starring Grey Goose vodka. Opt for a boozy hibiscus lemonade, a passionfruit-starring sip, a fruity Chambord and Lyres Italian Orange concoction or a riff on a coffee-charged espresso martini.
Across May and June, the CBD's historic multi-storey venue Shell House is throwing a huge food and music festival once again, with a local lineup of musicians and chefs taking over all four of the building's venues across eight weeks of festivities. Beginning with food and beverages, there's a whole heap of special one-off menus and kitchen takeovers happening throughout the month. The Shell House crew is exploring the world of tuna via a two-part series called Wet, Cold and Delicious — there'll be a Dale Ridgers-led event called Hand Dived taking place on Wednesday, June 10, and A Deep Dive Into Tuna, including a live Maguro Shoten (a traditional Japanese tuna cutting show and auction) followed by a five-course meal, with Chef Toshihiko Oe (Sushi Oe) and Narito Ishii (Sydney Fish Markets) on Monday, June 24. Further program highlights include a one-day pop-up from Melbourne's Osteria Ilaria and Tipo 00 at Menzies Bar on Saturday, June 22, and a beef-focused dinner in partnership with Anthony Purharich of Victor Churchill and Vic's Meats on Thursday, June 20. You'll also have the chance to sip your way through the world's smallest champagne bar throughout the duration of the fest. And don't go past the familiar favourites — happy hour martini, margarita and negroni specials will also be available across Shell House venues if you're unwinding during the bustling precinct's biggest festivities. As for the music, you can expect local favourites like Jonti, Kirin J Callinan and Aussie jazz legend James Morrison to pop up for sets alongside Shell House's own house band. Plus, Sky Bar will host a heap of free gigs, with sets from Ben Fester and Wax'O Paradiso alongside takeovers by Planet Trip, Bypass and Veer East planned for the two months. Topping the whole thing off will be cultural and art installations from the likes of Regression Studio, MIKEY FREEDOM, Jai Winnell, Troy Emery, Lauren Brincat and street performers at the Clocktower Bar. You can check out the full schedule at the Shell House website.
Imaginary friends should be seen, but people trying to survive an alien invasion should not be heard. So goes John Krasinski's recent flicks as a filmmaker. While IF, The Office star's fifth feature behind the lens, has nothing to do with 2018 horror hit A Quiet Place or its 2020 sequel A Quiet Place Part II, the three movies share a focus on the senses and their importance in forming bonds. When Krasinski's two post-apocalyptic hits forced humanity into silence for survival, they contemplated what it meant to be perceived — or not — as a basic element of human connection amid the bumps, jumps and tale of a family attempting to endure. With IF, the writer/director also ponders existence and absence. It skews younger, though, and also more whimsical, for a family-friendly story about a girl assisting made-up mates that are yearning Toy Story-style to have flesh-and-blood pals again. The horror genre still lingers over IF, however. It doesn't haunt in tone, because this isn't 2024's fellow release Imaginary; rather, it's a sentimental fantasy-adventure film, enthusiastically so. But from the moment that the movie's narrative introduces its IFs, as the picture dubs imaginary friends, it's easy to spot Krasinski's inspiration. In New York staying with her grandmother Margaret (Fiona Shaw, True Detective: Night Country) while her dad (Krasinski, Jack Ryan) is having heart surgery, 12-year-old Bea (Cailey Fleming, The Walking Dead) starts seeing pretend creatures. She then has a task: reuniting critters such as Blue (Steve Carell, Asteroid City), the purple-hued furry monster that, alongside Minnie Mouse-meets-butterfly Blossom (Phoebe Waller-Bridge, Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny), is one of the first IFs that she spots, with the now-adults that conjured them up as children. Only Cal (Ryan Reynolds, Ghosted), who lives upstairs from Bea's nan, can also glimpse Blue, Blossom and the like. And although his past plans to aid the IFs in finding new kid buddies to get over their old ones haven't been successful, he's still along for the ride — somewhat reluctantly and crankily — as Bea spends the days that her dad is in hospital distracting herself with her new job. Krasinski mightn't have yet directed a film that hails from existing material, not here, in either A Quiet Place entry, his 2009 debut Brief Interviews with Hideous Men or in 2016's The Hollars, but he slips IF into familiar all-ages terrain. Take a kid or kids, whisk them off into a fanciful space either away from or that reframes their own world, then surround them with anything but the ordinary and everyday: everything from Mary Poppins and Labyrinth to Jumanji and also Studio Ghibli's Spirited Away has imagined it as well. A giant heart beats and a waterfall of sincerity flows in IF's exploration of how loneliness, pain, uncertainty and anxiety can dance away through companionship, and also through truly seeing someone and being seen. That's what it means to spot imaginary friends, after all, with children conjuring themselves up a pal that's always by their side unconditionally no matter what life throws their way at a young age. We might grow out of playing make believe to enjoy the company of a BFF, but no one moves past needing to be recognised and appreciated, and hurting if they aren't. Someone who certainly hasn't: a pre-teen who insists to her happy-go-lucky father that she's too old now for goofy pranks and spinning stories, and to her grandma that colouring in and painting aren't age-appropriate hobbies, as she grapples with her remaining parent's health after losing her mother (Catharine Daddario, The Tomorrow Job) in the movie's opening montage. Sweet almost to the point of corniness, patently unafraid of symbolism and giving all of the effort that it can, IF isn't a subtle film, including in deploying a glow from cinematographer Janusz Kamiński (The Fabelmans, and also Steven Spielberg's go-to since Schindler's List) in its retro aesthetic and heartstring-tugging melodies from composer Michael Giacchino (Next Goal Wins, and also Pixar's Inside Out, Coco and Lightyear) in its score as it takes its audience along with Bea's emotional journey. (Also obvious, and not just from Kamiński and Giacchino's involvement: the Spielberg and Pixar influences). But it's all so eagerly and unashamedly earnest, and so carefully constructed, that the movie itself resembles a kid with an imaginary friend — making viewers believe in it because it believes with such unwavering and wholehearted dedication. It helps that the various IFs bounding through the picture's frames look not only imaginative, but like the product of real imaginations, spanning bears, marshmallows, unicorns, spacemen, cubes of ice in glasses of water and more. Blue, all plush and tactile (and, yes, likely destined for the merchandise treatment), isn't the only imaginary friend that could've stepped out of a toy box. On voice duties, the cast is a look-who-I-can-call roster on Krasinski's part — see: Emily Blunt (The Fall Guy), George Clooney (Ticket to Paradise), Bradley Cooper (Maestro), Matt Damon (Drive-Away Dolls), Awkwafina (Kung Fu Panda 4), Bill Hader (Barry), Keegan-Michael Key (Wonka), Blake Lively (The Rhythm Section), Sam Rockwell (Argylle) and Maya Rudolph (Loot), for starters — yet IF doesn't enlist such a starry list of names for just-showing-up turns, getting both depth and laughs from the who's who lineup. With the impressive Fleming at its centre, a playful showpiece sequence arrives midway through the movie, with Bea guided to the IF retirement home beneath Coney Island. Here, imaginary friends endeavour to cope with life without their tykes, but Bea reshapes their space using (what else?) the power of imagination. Flourishes such as singing with the late, great Tina Turner and plunging into a painting only to come out all splattered with its hues are splendid touches (endearing as well), each alive with the spirit of childlike wonder that Krasinski so keenly wants to capture. One harking back to tunes with and cherished moments of significance to Bea, the other making the act of diving into creativity literal, they're sensory touches, too — because Krasinski knows that if we're not open to experiencing as much as we truly can, and connecting through it, we're not truly living.
Freshwater Brewing Co is swapping hops for grapes as it hosts another inviting wine festival focusing on the next gen of natural wines. Popping up in Sydney's north on Wednesday, May 15, Into the Vines will bring over 25 different drops of vino from five boundary-pushing winemakers to the breezy brewery for a midweek journey through some of the exciting things happening in the booze world. The lineup of producers includes Fin Wines from Yarra Valley, VIC; Mada Wines and Mallaluka Wines from Canberra, ACT; Renzaglia Wines from Bathurst, NSW; and Vinden Wines from Hunter Valley, NSW. The festivities will kick off at 6pm, and a $15 ticket will allow you to chat with the winemakers and taste their wares. If you want to grab dinner, there's a combo deal, which includes the hour-long tasting session plus a pint and a burger at the brewery for $40. If you're still keen for more, the $45 deal also includes a platter perfect for two. The approachable wine festival is great for any Sydneysiders north of the bridge who would usually have to travel into the inner-city to find such an eclectic mix of new-age winemakers all in one spot.
Can a dream ever exist for more than a fleeting moment? That isn't just a question for oneirology, the field of psychology focused on studying the involuntary visions of our slumbers, but also applies whenever tales of motorcycle clubs rev across the screen. Stories of hitting the open road on two wheels, finding camaraderie and community in a group of likeminded outsiders, and perhaps discovering a purpose along the way are stories of chasing dreams — of freedom, of belonging, of mattering, of meaning in a world seemingly so devoid of it if you don't fit in the traditional sense. So it was in TV series Sons of Anarchy and in Australian film 1%, two titles set within the roar and rush of biker gangs in recent years. So it was in The Wild One, 1953's Marlon Brando-starring classic that immortalised the query "what are you rebelling against?" and the reply "whaddaya got?". Now, so it equally proves in The Bikeriders, about a 60s and 70s leather- and denim-wearing, motorbike-riding crew formed after infatuation got motors runnin' when founder Johnny (Tom Hardy, Venom: Let There Be Carnage) saw The Wild One on TV. A family man, Johnny has a dream for the Vandals MC out of America's midwest — and so does Benny (Austin Butler, Dune: Part Two), the closest thing that the club has to a spirit animal. The latter is introduced alone at a bar wearing his colours, refusing to take them off even when violence springs at the hands of unwelcoming patrons. He won't be tamed, the sixth feature from writer/director Jeff Nichols after Shotgun Stories, Take Shelter, Mud, Midnight Special and Loving establishes early. He won't be anyone but his smouldering, swaggering, rebel-without-a-cause self, either. Courtesy of the Vandals, he not only has the space to stand firm, but the assurance. He's a lone wolf-type, but knows that he has the devoted backing of the pack anyway. Johnny has fashioned the gang as a tribe and a place to call home for those who can't locate it elsewhere, and is open about how his fellow bikers need Benny — and how he does as well — to look up to. The Bikeriders is the story of Johnny and Benny, and also of the Illinois-accented Kathy (Jodie Comer, Killing Eve), whose outsider-upon-outsider perspective comprises the movie's narration (and gives it a Martin Scorsese-esque, Goodfellas-style angle). She's wary when on her debut encounter with the Vandals, also at a bar. Still, the way that Nichols and his regular cinematographer Adam Stone (Waco: American Apocalypse) shoot it, Kathy has no choice but to fall for the brooding Benny from the instant that she locks eyes on him at the pool table that night. Moments after she leaves the watering hole, she's clutching him close as they thunder off on his bike. Five weeks later, they're married. As she talks through the tumultuous and absorbing details to Danny (Mike Faist, Challengers) — Lyon, that is, the IRL photojournalist with the 1968 book that shares The Bikeriders' name, inspired the film and provides its basis sometimes on an image-by-image level — what springs from there is a love triangle of sorts, as Johnny and Kathy both see different routes for Benny, and for their respective dreams and futures. Making a much-appreciated return to filmmaking eight years after Loving — in-between, an Alien Nation remake didn't come to fruition, and he dropped out of helming A Quiet Place: Day One — Nichols fictionalises fact with The Bikeriders. Lyon snapped and spent time with Chicago's Outlaws Motorcycle Club. Its name doesn't remain in the feature, but the monikers of plenty of folks in its orbit, including Kathy, Benny and Johnny, plus other Vandals members Cal (Boyd Holbrook, Justified: City Primeval), Cockroach (Emory Cohen, Blue Bayou) and Zipco (Michael Shannon, The Flash), all do. The vibe as The Bikeriders hums is of a picture and the team bringing it to life each stepping into history, into photos that immortalised it and into a mood just as firmly, then spinning the results into a movie. That's a pivotal and purposeful sensation when the line between dreams and reality is being examined. While actuality rarely feels illusory when you're in it, the ultimate that anyone is ever pursuing — rebellion, authenticity and acceptance here, for example — so often proves ephemeral. Little in the way of surprises might fuel The Bikeriders' narrative, especially if you've watched past biker fare — Lyon's book predates Easy Rider by a year — but twists and turns are never the point. Instead, the anticipated cycles keep turning as Nichols prods whether the dream that he's capturing, as his photographer inspiration did before him, was ever destined for more than transience. Johnny's version of the club — and the solace that someone such as the scruffy Zipco, who gives voice to securing a niche he isn't otherwise afforded in a speech about being turned down for Vietnam enlistment, is seeking — withers as the Vandals grows. Rides and hangouts erupt in scuffles and fights over power. Attitudes among newcomers make the OG crew seem positively gentle. Benny struggles, too, caught between two sets of the last thing that he wants from anyone: expectations. As it gets the wind ruffling Butler's hair and the bouffant of Comer's locks defying gravity, Nichols has crafted a film that plays so eagerly like a throwback with such a lived-in atmosphere, but also with probing intentions pumping through every second. It presents. It unpacks. It motors along with the throbbing and the cruisiness alike of an engine letting rip on long Sunday-afternoon drive, digging into this slice of countercultural Americana and the hopes it stands for in the process. As its director did with Shotgun Stories almost two decades ago now, The Bikeriders also has tortured masculinity in its sights, another realm where visions of perfection are fated to crash. And as Nichols constantly returns to in his filmography, how desperately someone — everyone — attempts to hold onto what they love and dream about also slicks this intimate flick like oil. The longer that The Bikeriders goes on, the heartier that the initial Vandals tussle with their expanding roster, as more and more faces and agendas join its ranks. The feature itself has no such regrets, including when Norman Reedus (The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon), Karl Glusman (Civil War), Toby Wallace (The Royal Hotel) and Damon Herriman (The Artful Dodger) help flesh out the cast. Mirroring the club with Benny, the movie benefits from having Butler at its heart, though. In a strong on-screen year to rival 2022's Elvis whirlwind, which nabbed him a BAFTA and a Golden Globe, plus an Oscar nomination, he follows Dune: Part Two and Masters of the Air with a magnetic, layered, revealing and committed performance while so frequently uttering little aloud. The also-exceptional Comer and ever-commanding Hardy aren't stuck in their co-star's shadow, as their characters happily are with Benny, but this film about the allure of the ideal knows how to make that exact notion its vista. Unlike everything that the Vandals aspires to encapsulate, however, Butler never falters.
When a movie repeats its events through fresh eyes, answers usually follow. But as Hirokazu Kore-eda opts for the Rashomon effect in Monster, using a technique that fellow great Japanese filmmaker Akira Kurosawa deployed with one of his famous features, the director that won the Palme d'Or for 2018's Shoplifters refuses to stop asking questions. In this picture, which picked up the Queer Palm at the 2023 Cannes Film Festival — and again sees Kore-eda collaborate with Kazuko Kurosawa (The Third Murder), daughter of Akira, as its costume designer — layers keep mounting. There's no shortage of cinema that stresses how there's never merely one set of peepers to peer through, but in this masterful and moving addition to that realm, from one of the best at conveying empathy that film as a medium benefits from today, each pass in search of the full story builds a case not just for filtering the world through more than what's easy and reactive, but through acceptance and understanding. Kore-eda knows this: that perspectives, just like perceptions, can be misleading, blinkered and blinded. So when rumour proclaims that a new teacher frequents hostess bars, when a boy has tales of being called names by the same educator, when said man points the finger at the kid as a bully to one of his classmates instead and when the two children at the centre of the situation are friends with a cherished bond, a clearcut view is in short supply. This is the first movie since 1995's Maborosi that the filmmaker has only helmed and not also written, but Yûji Sakamoto's (In Love and Deep Water) Cannes Best Screenplay-winning script is a classic entry on the director's resume. Monster is also Kore-eda's homecoming, after making his post-Shoplifters films until now elsewhere — 2019's The Truth in France, then 2022's Broker in South Korea — and it's a stellar return. A blazing building starts the storytelling. Later, monsoonal rain will pour from the heavens. How emotions can go up in flames, burn bright, resemble a deluge, and wash away hurt and uncertainty is seared into Monster's patient frames, then — and with cinematographer Ryûto Kondô (also Shoplifters) doing the lensing, the feature is both alight and saturated with telling imagery. Kore-eda's knack for compassion has always floated through his visuals, in wordless moments where locked eyes say everything and in the way that he bears witness to his characters. Among his unforgettable sights here are the faces of fifth graders Minato (Sōya Kurokawa, Teasing Master Takagi-san) and Yori (Hinata Hiiragi, The Last Man: The Blind Profiler) together, sometimes muddied, sometimes exuberant, often glowing with the kind of being-seen connection that the pair can only find in each other. When the inferno rages at the nightclub where Mr Hori (Eita Nagayama, Migawari Mission) is reportedly a patron, Minato and his widowed mother Saori (Sakura Andô, Godzilla Minus One, and another Shoplifters alum) can spy the orange bursts from their apartment balcony. It isn't the only thing catching her attention of late; her son's behaviour has switched from gentle and shy to withdrawn, and at one point he leaps from her car as she's driving. He sports bruises and injuries. Sometimes, he doesn't return from class. He asks what type of creature — monster, even — someone would be if they were human but with a pig's brain. Saori heads to Minato's school to ascertain what's occurring, deeming Hori responsible. But all that she receives is a throwaway apology with bows, including from the distracted principal Fushimi (Yûko Tanaka, Thousand and One Nights), that only makes her angrier. As edited by Kore-eda himself, as usual, Monster then jumps back to Hori's take — although this isn't a film structured by different vantages in overt ways, such as point-of-view shots, but rather one that steps into the life of a new character or characters with each of its trio of runs through the narrative. Amid an unpacking of Japanese propriety's fondness for not making a fuss, and also a dive into the teacher's out-of-hours life, Hori thinks that he's being made a scapegoat. He's also convinced that Minato is picking on Yori. Then, once that vision has played through, it's time to rewind again into the latter duo's bond as fellow outsiders in their regional lakeside town. With Yori's father Kiyotaka (Shidô Nakamura, Kenshiro ni Yoroshiku) an abusive drunk who has no time for his boy's sensitivity, the two friends regularly abscond to an abandoned train tunnel in the mountainous forest. An escape and a refuge, it feels like a new world for them — and a safe place to cocoon in their chaste pre-teen relationship. Delicate and tender, the yearning score by Ryuichi Sakamoto — his last for a feature, apart from for concert film Ryuichi Sakamoto: Opus — embodies Monster from its first moment to its last. From Kore-eda, who is incapable of not telling richly touching and heartfelt tales (see also: Still Walking, I Wish, Like Father, Like Son and Our Little Sister, to name just a few others), that's hardly surprising, and neither is the complexity and immediacy that shimmers through the movie's scenario and characters. He knows struggling souls, and lonely ones. He knows the intricacy that swells within everyone. He knows fractured and makeshift family dynamics just as deftly. Using reverse angles when flitting from Saori to Hori's perspective, and also to Minato and Yori's, he knows how to make plain that we are all affixed to our own views. He's also well-aware that seeing a monster is heartbreakingly simple when that's exactly what you're looking for. Sublime performances equally belong on the list of things that Kore-eda has an expert and exquisite grasp on. It was true in his recent foray into TV with miniseries The Makanai: Cooking for the Maiko House (also excellent), too: his penchant for naturalism is unparalleled in its sincerity. In Monster, Andô is a portrait of nuance even as Saori is furious and devastatingly exasperated. Nagayama turns in a candid portrayal as Hori, and Tanaka simmers with scene-stealing tension through Fushimi's formality. And from Kurokawa and Hiiragi, Kore-eda gets both calm and earnestness from a pair playing misunderstood kids with everything that they have, as well as a new round of marvellous work by child actors for his ever-magnificent filmography.
Lunar New Year is about much more than red envelopes and lion dances. Bring your family and friends together to celebrate the Year of the Dragon with the Chippendale Collective's range of special events this month, as part of the Chippendale Spice Festival. From Thursday, February 8 to Saturday, February 24, Chippendale will come alive with free live music, workshops, bespoke set menus and art exhibits across the inner-city hub. Treat the family to a fortuitous meal at Holy Duck! with the Lucky 88 Menu for $88, or opt for a tableside spectacle with Olio's salt-baked fish, derived from a recipe that dates back 800 years. Afterwards, purchase a Money Bag Cake or Golden Hongbao Cake at beloved KOI Dessert Bar for a chance to win a gift voucher, or try the limited edition chilli mango gelato at Anita Gelato. For some liquid luck, tag along for an entertaining cocktail class at Fortress Sydney, or try your hand at a drawing class paired with spicy margs at one of Sydney's best pubs, The Lord Gladstone. Then, burn it all off with DanceKool Studio's TikTok dance workshops and Asian pop party at Central Park Mall on Saturday, February 24. Culture vultures can drop in for free Chinese contemporary art at White Rabbit Gallery or discover Chinese ornaments at the free Chau Chak Wing Museum. There's also free live music with drinks and food at the Sneaky Possum on Saturday, February 17, and free live gigs by the likes of cellist James Morley, rap star Mulalo and more at the stunning Phoenix Central Park. [caption id="attachment_837008" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Jordan Munns[/caption] And of course, there'll be lion dances and family-friendly activities including giveaways, fortune tellers, fairy floss, an eating competition and face-painting at the Kensington Street Lunar New Year Festival on Sunday, February 18. The event is presented by the Chippendale Collective and proudly supported by the City of Sydney. Check out the lineup of events at the Chippendale Spice Festival website.
What if a vampire didn't want to feed on humans? When it happens in Interview with the Vampire, rats are the solution. In Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person, Sasha (Sara Montpetit, White Dog) gets her sustenance from pouches of blood instead, but her family — father (Steve Laplante, The Nature of Love), mother (Sophie Cadieux, Chouchou), aunt (Marie Brassard, Viking) and cousin Denise (Noémie O'Farrell, District 31') — are increasingly concerned once more than half a century passes and she keeps avoiding biting necks. Sasha still looks like a goth teenager, yet she's 68, so her relatives believe that it's well past time for her to embrace an inescapable aspect of being a bloodsucker. What if she didn't have to, though? The potential solution in the delightful first feature by director Ariane Louis-Seize, who co-writes with Christine Doyon (Germain s'éteint), is right there in this 2023 Venice International Film Festival award-winner's title. With What We Do in the Shadows, both on the big and small screens, the idea that vamps are just like the living when it comes to sharing houses has gushed with laughs. Swap out flatmates for adolescence — including pesky parents trying to cramp a teen's style — and that's Louis-Seize's approach in this French-language Canadian effort. As much as Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person brings fellow undead fare to mind, however, and more beyond, the Québécois picture is an entrancing slurp of vampire and other genres on its own merits. There's an Only Lovers Left Alive-style yearning and A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night-esque elegance to the film. Beetlejuice and The Hunger bubble up, too, as do Under the Skin, Ginger Snaps and The Craft as well. But comparable to how drinking from someone doesn't transform you into them — at least according to a century-plus of bloodsucking tales on the page, in cinemas and on TV — nodding at influences doesn't turn this coming-of-age horror-comedy into its predecessors. Why does a vampire shy away from their basic method of feeding? Compassion and empathy, as a vamp doctor diagnoses. At a childhood birthday party in the 80s, Sasha (played by Avant le crash's Lilas-Rose Cantin in her younger guise) is gifted what her family thinks will be the ultimate present, to help her fangs come in: the clown hired as the shindig's entertainment isn't just there for a merry time, but as the cake. She won't kill him. She won't murder anyone afterwards. As she ages, it isn't just appeasing her parents that's putting pressure on Sasha to indulge her ingrained urges; when she sees blood, her desire kicks in. That Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person falls into the nest of flicks that understand how harrowing becoming a woman can be is as apparent as a puncture wound around the jugular; again, it still finds its own way to muse on a well-contemplated topic, even while broadly sticking with the familiar "being a teen girl is a horror movie" concept. As a last resort, Sasha is sent to stay with Denise, who nab her meals simply by picking up men and taking them home (her industrial-chic abode has meathooks to assist). But forcing anyone to follow in an authority figure's footsteps never turns out well whether they're breathing or undead, which is another of Louis-Seize's universal notions. A search for identity sits at the unstaked heart of Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person, as Sasha endeavours to grow up and be a creature of the night on her own terms, and without losing who she knows she is. Enter suicide support groups, which depressed and bullied high-schooler Paul (Félix-Antoine Bénard, The Wall) attends to grapple with his own feelings about mortality — an opinion that's far less concerned with retaining his own life than Sasha is about letting humans keep existing. Warm Bodies, Let the Right One In, a human-vamp reversal of Buffy the Vampire Slayer's main romances: that's all dripped into Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person's blood bag as well. With her raven locks and dark-clad outfits, plus the movie's deadpan comedy, there's a touch of Wednesday Addams-but-a-bloodsucker, too. That said, tenderness rather than sarcasm is Sasha's vibe — and finding the balance between bleak and sweet is the feature's. Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person is a film about not just forging your own sense of self, and staying true to it, but discovering someone to connect with who accepts you for who you are, takes the good with the bad, and makes life (or the afterlife) worth living. It might be red with blood, then black with melancholy and angst, thematically, but it's also pink inside. Aesthetically, the Montreal-based Louis-Seize, cinematographer Shawn Pavlin (who also shot her shorts) and editor Stéphane Lafleur (Goddess of the Fireflies) adore contrasts — and letting the feature's visuals say as much as dialogue, especially about Sasha's inner state. Atmospheric yet also neon-lit, taking cues for lighting choices from German expressionist cinema but imparting the flick with a 90s teen-movie sheen: just as it balances humour with bittersweetness, Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person juggles all of the above. Texture and richness pulsate emotionally and stylistically, and also in the soundtrack's bounces from jazz to pop. Indeed, one of the reasons that viewers being able to glean Louis-Seize's sources of inspiration doesn't overwhelm her picture is because it so deeply feels like you could step right into the film. Montpetit and Bénard turn in performances to match, portrayals where angst and longing pump in the same veins at the same time, and where frolicking through the night — sunlight still isn't a vampire's friend here — has the liminal taste of being caught between juvenile fun and adult reality. Alongside possessing great chemistry, Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person's central pair know how to convey the movie's whimsy, darkness and romance while never succumbing fully to any over the other. They play a twist on Romeo and Juliet as well in the process, in a way, as two beings from opposite worlds drawn together. One would prefer to die than hurt someone who doesn't want it. The other would donate his life willingly because it'd give him purpose. As with the rest of her nudges, Louis-Seize doesn't feast on Shakespeare's most-famous tragedy, either; her take has its own charms and flavour.
A cast-out-of-time vibe tumbles and rustles through Fallen Leaves. In Aki Kaurismäki's 20th feature, his first since 2017's The Other Side of Hope, a calendar advises that it is 2024 and the radio reports on the war in Ukraine, but the look and mood could've been taken from decades and decades back. An account of two lonely souls in an uncaring world grasping a bond amid the grind that is just endeavouring to get by never dates, after all. Neither do the Finnish filmmaker's movies, with their love of droll humour, understatement and melancholy. Indeed, with tragicomedy Fallen Leaves, Kaurismäki links to the 80s and 90s, and to his Proletariat trilogy. Trust him to add a fourth title to the trio, which previously spanned 1986's Shadows in Paradise, 1988's Ariel and 1990's The Match Factory Girl; his love of absurdity doesn't age, either. Ensuring that Helsinki resembles a relic of the past — even more so at California Bar, which throws back to America in the 60s — keeps a state of arrested development lingering in Fallen Leaves. What makes a place and its people feel as if moving forward is something that only happens elsewhere? In Kaurismäki's hands in a movie that's quintessentially a Kaurismäki movie from start to finish, the answer is as simple as being caught in a monotonous routine, the very reality that the writer/director's features also give audiences a reprieve from. He knows this. On-screen here, he has Holappa (Jussi Vatanen, Koskinen) and Ansa (Alma Pöysti, A Day and a Half) find solace in a cinema themselves. They don't see a Kaurismäki picture. Instead, they catch The Dead Don't Die by Jim Jarmusch, the closest person that he has to an American equivalent. That's Holappa and Ansa's first official date, but not the start of Fallen Leaves' story. Before that, it gets to know him as a metalworker and her as a supermarket employee, methods of receiving a paycheque that neither is overly fussed about. Holappa is also an alcoholic, which eventually costs him his job. Ansa gets fired for trying to take home out-of-date food. The pair cross paths at a karaoke bar, and awkwardly, yet the audience can almost see the string tying them together as soon as they're both sharing a frame. For someone who so regularly processes the world's sadness through deadpan laughs, Kaurismäki isn't averse to kindred spirits — again, see his shoutout to Jarmusch, and also the fact that Fallen Leaves, as many of Kaurismäki's movies do, features a key canine connection. Dialogue doesn't come easily or abundantly in a film by the creative force who clearly didn't retire after The Other Side of Hope, as he said he was going to — and who won the 2023 Cannes Film Festival Jury Prize with Fallen Leaves, the proof that he's still behind the camera. Understanding his characters by being in their presence has always been his approach. Valuing silence and pauses plays like a throwback, too, increasingly so when words being flung about incessantly at literal presses of buttons is life circa 2024. His casting, and also the cinematography that splashes Kaurismäki's movies across the screen, are always pivotal as a result. With Vatanen and Pöysti, the latter collecting a Golden Globe nomination, Fallen Leaves boasts actors who reside fully in Holappa and Ansa's skins and sorrows. With Timo Salminen doing the lensing, as he has since the director's first film four decades ago, Fallen Leaves also knows how to deeply observe everything that its stars bring to their on-screen figures. The plot might be slight — Holappa and Ansa meet, gravitate towards each other, then attempt to clutch what respite they can from the winter that is existence — but that isn't the same as lacking detail. Seeing Ansa need to shop before she can host Holappa at her flat for dinner screams with minutiae about how accustomed she is to being alone, and for how long; she only has one place setting otherwise. While she's still stacking shelves for a gig, watching her employer demand that expired food be thrown out instead of going to those who need it says everything about the cruel corporate attitude that oppresses not just the working class, but 21st-century society at large. It isn't just that Kaurismäki wants his viewers to see Holappa and Ansa's lives, rather than hear them chat about it; to explain who they are, and why, plus the emotions simmering inside each, he also knows exactly what's crucial for audiences to peer at. There's a sensation that springs from Kaurismäki's films: a feeling of stepping into a world so distinctively crafted by the filmmaker while also still spying a poignant reflection of reality. That's why his script for the graceful and gorgeous Fallen Leaves can chart such a familiar scenario — template-like, almost — and yet is anything but a by-the-numbers effort. He lets his characters be who they are, ups, downs, strengths, flaws and all. He perceives them and their plights with such evident empathy, and also with hope. Anyone watching can spot how they could be or have been Holappa and Ansa, including when Kaurismäki frequently finds the hilarity in this cycle that we all call life. Naturalistic, humane, wry, sincere, tender, taking the bad with the good when it comes to each and every day and person: that's his remit, winningly, warmly and meaningfully so. In another of Fallen Leaves' touches that might seem at odds with setting it in 2024, pushing its protagonists together is complicated by the fact that they initially can't contact each other. Their names are hard-earned. Phone numbers are lost. This romance isn't easy to come by, then; for Holappa and Ansa both, and for viewers as well, it's worth striving for. Kaurismäki is a master at mirroring in his style, narrative and themes, such as showing how something that appears standard so rarely is via his plot and imagery, or telling a tale that takes away the always-on nature of modern life to stress what's truly important. He's a filmmaking great in general — and if the sexagenarian is encroaching upon the autumn of his career 41 years after his feature debut, his talents remain as verdant as ever.
Movie buffs who like to theme their viewing around the relevant time of year — holiday-related, primarily — are always spoiled for choice. Christmas films, spooky flicks at Halloween, Easter-relevant fare: you can build a binge session or several out of all of them. The same applies to Thanksgiving, all courtesy of the US, and The Humans is the latest addition to the November-appropriate list. This A24 release ticks a few clearcut boxes, in fact, including bringing a dysfunctional multi-generation family together to celebrate the date, steeping their get-together in the kind of awkwardness that always stalks relatives, and having big revelations spill over the course of the gathering (the calendar-mandated time for such disclosures, pouring out before the tryptophan kicks in). That said, even with such evident servings of underlying formula, The Humans is far creepier and more haunting than your usual movie about America's turkey-eating time of year. A hefty helping of existential horror will do that. Based on Stephen Karam's Tony-winning 2016 Broadway play — a Pulitzer Prize finalist as well — and adapted and directed for the screen by Karam himself, The Humans is downright unsettling, and for a few reasons. There's the tension zipping back and forth between everyone in attendance, of course — as crucial an ingredient at every Thanksgiving party as food, booze and warm bodies to consume them, at least if films are to be believed. There's also the bleak, claustrophobic, run-down setting, with the movie confined to a New York apartment close to Ground Zero, which aspiring composer Brigid (Beanie Feldstein, Booksmart) and her student boyfriend Richard (Steven Yeun, Nope) have just moved into at significant expense. And, there's the strange sounds emanating from other units, and perhaps this creaking, groaning, two-storey abode itself, which couldn't feel less welcoming. As a result, seasonal cheer is few and far between in this corner of Manhattan, where the Blake family congregates dutifully rather than agreeably or even welcomely. Also making an appearance: parents Deirdre (Only Murders in the Building's Jayne Houdyshell, reprising her Tony-winning part) and Erik (Richard Jenkins, DAHMER — Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story), Brigid's lawyer older sister Aimee (Amy Schumer, Life & Beth), and their grandmother Momo (June Squibb, Palmer), who has dementia and uses a wheelchair. No one is happy, and everyone seems to have something that needs airing — slowly and reluctantly when it's a matter of importance, but freely and cuttingly when it's a snap judgement directed at others. Watching The Humans, the audience hopes that no one has truly had a Thanksgiving like this, while knowing how well its fraught dynamic hits the mark. Thanks to Richard, film first-timer Karam has a straightforward way to start doling out backstory — a time-honoured function of fresh attendees to on-screen family dos, and not just in movies about Thanksgiving. Erik chats, filling the newcomer in, although the talk between everyone dishes out plenty of handy details. Religious and political affiliations cause strains, as do booze and money. The clash between the big city, where the Blake family daughters now live, and their hometown of Scranton, Pennsylvania also informs the discussions. Health woes, relationship struggles, generation clashes, expecting more both from and of each other but getting less: that's the baseline. Brigid stews about not being given enough cash by her parents, and therefore jeopardising her career dreams; Aimee frets about treading water at work, being alone and a medical condition; Deirdre's conservative leanings bristle against her daughters' decisions; and Erik clearly has a secret. As anxious and agitated as the situation is — and as peppered with passive aggression and outbursts alike — there's always another feeling lurking throughout the barely furnished flat. That physical, visible, inescapable emptiness also speaks volumes about Brigid, Richard and their guests, but it's impossible to shake the sensation that this might've been a joyful affair in any other location. The same troubles and attitudes would exist, and the same players, but there's no avoiding how their grim surroundings are amplifying their bickering. When they're being guarded, coy, reserved or reticent (at times, they all fit) about the things they're keeping from each other, the apartment looms large with space and desolation. When they're flinging truths back and forth, it's tight and distressed. Or, is it actually just a regular old and dilapidated place in a crushing rental market, and it's the evening's occupants and their torment that's bringing the unease? For a film so firmly grounded in one location, to the point that the cliche about the setting being a character in the movie applies, The Humans can be slippery. Is Karam's setup as simple as a family squabbling? Is there more, or do we just want there to be more because that quarrelling — and the dancing around it, when that's the Blakes' preferred option — is so discomforting? They're the questions that dwell in the unit, which cinematographer Lol Crawley (Vox Lux) shoots like it's both dispiritingly ordinary and unshakeably otherworldly. Frequently, the film looks on from afar within the space as well, framing Brigid and company through doorways that make everything resemble a show. Sometimes, it hones in on physical minutiae as conversations play out. Are all family get-togethers performances? Do we all cling close out of habit and expectation, but keep ourselves distanced by nattering about the trivial and inconsequential? They're queries that hang heavy in the stilted air, too. As The Humans stretches on, discussions about dreams and nightmares prove revealing. The feature also points out the thin line between both, whether we're slumbering or waking, several times over in its talky frames. No one on-screen really needs reminding; that's where they're caught, even if just emotionally. Across the board, The Humans' performances are similarly anchored and weighty — whatever's going on around the Blakes or isn't, the pervasive dread keeps everyone trapped and festering, and Karam's six key cast members all play their parts accordingly. The effect is compelling, especially when paired with disquieting sound design straight out of a psychological thriller. Let's be honest, isn't that all holiday celebrations with the family anyway?
Beer lovers, this one's for you. Sydney hospitality giant Merivale is dedicating all of September to frosty cans and perfect pours of everyone's favourite golden ale, beer. The month of beer-centric celebrations will span a heap of Merivale venues, popping up with different events and activations. The flagship event is the Hop & Dreams craft beer festival at Vic on the Park. This two-day spotlight on independent brewers will take over The Vic's beer garden on Saturday, September 3 and Sunday, September 4. Brewers including Stone & Wood, Malt Shovel, Panhead, Balter, Coopers, Young Henrys, Grifter, Philter, Heaps Normal, and Yulli's will all be in attendance, pouring beers alongside live entertainment, top-notch eats and rounds of basketball. Over at sushi e, Dan Hong and Michael Fox will be hosting the Biru & Yakitori Party on Saturday, September 17. This ticketed event will feature a four-hour deep dive into Japanese beer, accompanied by sake, yakitori and Japanese hip hop. Every Tuesday in September, The Beresford is getting involved in the festivities by turning its first-floor room into the Barrel O Laughs comedy club. For $20, comedy fans will be treated to comedy sets from the likes of Dave Hughes, Matt Okine and Al Del Bene as well as a Hahn Super Dry schooner. Elsewhere, a beer-based game of shuffleboard will be touring Merivale venues, the founders of Balter will be hosting a dinner at The Collaroy and ivy's Pool Club will become the Bella Birra Pool Party with beer, pizza and Italo-disco tunes. Plus, Merivale has created its own beer with Camperdown's Malt Shovel. The Good Tap will be served across Vic on the Park, The Newport, The Royal, The DOG, Excelsior and Queens Hotel with money from the beer going to charity. [caption id="attachment_708571" align="alignnone" width="1920"] The Beresford[/caption]
Thanks to his Oscar-nominated work co-penning The Worst Person in the World's screenplay, Eskil Vogt has already helped give the world one devastatingly accurate slice-of-life portrait in the past year. That applauded film is so insightful and relatable about being in your twenties, and also about weathering quarter-life malaise, uncertainty and crisis, that it feels inescapably lifted from reality — and it's sublime. The Innocents, the Norwegian filmmaker's latest movie, couldn't be more different in tone and narrative; however, it too bears the fingerprints of achingly perceptive and deep-seated truth. Perhaps that should be mindprints, though. Making his second feature as a director after 2014's exceptional Blind, Vogt hones in on childhood, and on the way that kids behave with each other when adults are absent or oblivious — and on tykes and preteens who can wreak havoc solely using their mental faculties. Another riff on Firestarter, this thankfully isn't. The Innocents hasn't simply jumped on the Stranger Things bandwagon, either. Thanks to the latter, on-screen tales about young 'uns battling with the supernatural are one of Hollywood's current favourite trends — see also: the awful Ghostbusters: Afterlife — but all that this Nordic horror movie's group of kids are tussling with is themselves. Their fight starts when nine-year-old Ida (debutant Rakel Lenora Fløttum) and her 11-year-old sister Anna (fellow first-timer Alva Brynsmo Ramstad), who is on the autism spectrum, move to an apartment block in Romsås, Oslo with their mother (Blind's Ellen Dorrit Petersen) and father (Morten Svartveit, Ninjababy). It's summer, the days are long, and the two girls are largely left to their own devices outside in the complex's communal spaces. That's where Ida befriends Aisha (Mina Yasmin Bremseth Asheim) and Ben (Sam Ashraf), albeit not together, and starts to learn about their abilities. One of The Innocents' most astonishing scenes — in a film with many — springs from Ida discovering what the sullen, bullied Ben can do solely with his brain. Indeed, one of Vogt's masterstrokes is focusing on how she reacts to the boy's telekinesis, as demonstrated by flinging around a bottle cap. Ida is almost preternaturally excited, and she's lured in by the thrall of what Ben might be able to do next, even though she can visibly sense that something isn't quite right. Another series of unforgettable moments arises shortly afterward when her new pal, lapping up the attention from his only friend, cruelly and sickeningly shows off without even deploying his superpowers. It's a deeply disturbing turn in a movie that repeatedly isn't afraid to find evident terrors in ordinary, everyday, banal surroundings, and Ida's response — horrified, alarmed, yet unwilling to completely cut ties — again says everything. Vogt doesn't shy away from intimating something that society often doesn't, won't or both: that childhood and innocence don't always go hand in hand. En route to their new home in the film's opening sequence, Ida is already spied pinching the non-verbal Anna just to glean what she'll do. Later, as conveyed in economical imagery lensed by stellar cinematographer Sturla Brandth Grøvlen — who already has Another Round, Last and First Men, Shirley, Rams and Victoria to his name, and uses blood here with haunting precision — she's seen escalating that pain-fulled experimentation in a gutwrenching fashion. This side to the girl's personality isn't played as a twist or shock, and neither are Ben's skills and proclivities, or the friendly Aisha's telepathic powers (including the ability to communicate with Anna). Instead, The Innocents is positively matter of fact about what its pint-sized characters are capable of, and also steadfastly avoids trading in simplistic ideas of good and evil, or offering up neat rationales. It's one thing to bake such complexity into the script, which Vogt does with ease. When it comes to working with children, it's another entirely to have those layers and that eagerness to reside in shades of grey radiate from the cast. All newcomers to the screen, Fløttum, Ramstad, Ashraf and Asheim each manage to possess both relaxed naturalism and heaving texture — like they're not being recorded at all, but also as if they've always belonged in front of the camera, playing out their intricate games. Fløttum's expressive face is particularly striking in capturing The Innocents' eerie yet probing mood, whether Ida is flirting with darkness herself, frightened by what may come, or doing whatever she can to protect her sister and her family. But she's definitely not alone in making chatting without saying a thing, throwing about frying pans without moving a muscle and twisting childhood larks in otherworldly ways feel as commonplace as hitting the sandpit or swing set. They're little alike in vibe and atmosphere — a sense of fairy tale-esque dreaminess aside, although deployed in vastly dissimilar manners — but in stepping into the realms inhabited only by young hearts and minds, The Innocents slides in nicely alongside recent French delight Petite Maman. Both movies let their youthful characters exist in worlds defined only by themselves and their own rules, rather than by ideas and norms outlined by grown-ups. Neither of the two features would ever dare suggest that how its central figures experience life isn't worthy of attention or respect, or comes second to adult routines and woes. And, the pair of flicks also dive into how kids cope with everything that's constantly thrown in their direction, including by each other, with the utmost of seriousness. Here, that includes unpacking the morals they enforce among themselves, and also come to by themselves, but never explaining away something so complicated. In The Innocents, that detailed and disarming portrait of youth sits within a daylight nightmare, too — one that's not quite on the also Scandinavian-set Midsommar's level of chills, but always festers with unease nonetheless. Parallels also lurk with the superb Let the Right One In and its account of an undead tween, with the mental scares inflicted in Carrie and The Shining, and, unsurprisingly, with Thelma, the 2017 film about a university student grappling with inexplicable powers that Vogt wrote with The Worst Person in the World's Joachim Trier. The Innocents stands boldly beside its thematic peers, however, rather than in their shadows. Its various bits and pieces have their predecessors, but its blend of uncanny candour, creepiness, empathy and intelligence is all its own. While an English-language remake is bound to follow, frolicking in this smart and savvy playground again — and making something that doesn't just play like a cookie-cutter superhero origin flick at best (yes, the recent Firestarter comes to mind once more) — won't be an easy feat.
If you love movies, then you likely miss video stores. You probably have fond memories of all that time time you used to spend scouring the shelves trying to decide what to watch, as well as your attempts to find gems — or just truly weird and wonderful flicks — beyond the big new releases. Scrolling through streaming services just isn't the same, even if it has been keeping us all occupied during lockdown. The folks at the Randwick Ritz clearly miss old-school video stores, too. So, during Sydney's ongoing lockdown, the cinema has set up its own lending library. If you live within the same Local Government Area, or within five kilometres of the venue, you can head by to borrow a DVD or VHS copy of a range of movies. You'll obviously need a player to pop them in at home, though. Set up in a tower of crates outside the cinema, the video store encourages folks to borrow, watch, then return their flicks of choice — all without paying a cent. And, if you have some old discs or tapes at home that you don't want, you can donate them to the cause to help out your fellow locked-down movie buffs. Head along from 1–4.30pm on Sunday, September 5 and you'll also be able to takeaway popcorn, choc-tops, beers, wine, gift cards and cinema merchandise as part of a Father's Day pop-up. If you nab something for yourself as well as your dad, that's completely fine as well.
There are plenty of aspects of lockdown that suck, but one giant ray of sunshine through the whole experience has been all the top-notch, inventive takeaway options coming from some of our favourite Sydney businesses. One such restaurant is Redfern's Bart Jr. The Pitt Street spot is cooking up a range of lockdown specials including date night packs, heat-at-home meals and fancy panko-crumbed market-fresh ling Fillet-O-Fishes — but the crowning jewel of Bart Jr's lockdown menu is its lobster roll. Piled high with fresh WA Rock Lobster, NSW Clarence River king prawns, tarragon, chive and horseradish, Bary Jr's lobster rolls are available every Friday from the restaurant's takeaway window — lovingly named Bart Mart. With local lobster prices lower right now due to slower international trading, the Bart Jr team jumped at the opportunity to add a more affordable lobster dish to its menu. The rolls were originally created as a one-off dish, but after a huge community response, they've been added to the Bart Mart menu as a weekly Friday item. "I had about 50 people on Instagram message me asking if they could pre-order for next time, and so many people came by afterwards and said, 'please do it again'," Bart Jr owner George Woodyard said. If you miss out on a lobster roll you can pre-order a beef brisket roll packed with cheddar, zucchini pickles and chipotle mayo, available every Saturday. You can also keep your eyes on the Bart Jr Instagram for weekly deals. Last week's date night pack was filled with fried halloumi dusted in a za'atar-spiced semolina, 12-hour slow-roasted lamb shoulder, orange and polenta cake and a set of two bottled cocktails. At Bart Jr's Instagram you'll also find the details on how you can pre-order both hot rolls and DIY at-home dinners. Once you pre-order, you can pick up your lockdown dishes between 12–3pm, Thursday–Saturday. [caption id="attachment_824127" align="alignnone" width="1920"] George Woodyard, Destination NSW[/caption] Images: Destination NSW
As all the days blend into one, it's easy to lose track of time. So, you may have forgotten to organise your dad a long-distance Father's Day gift. If you're looking for something last minute, North Bondi bagel hub Lox in a Box has you covered — Dad's Hot Box is the ultimate Father's Day gift pack for dads who love to snack. Included in the goodie box are four franks from LP's Quality Meats as well as bagel hotdog buns and hot dog toppings so dad can make himself some loaded dogs at home. The father figure in your life will also find a pair of Lox in the Box white tennis socks, four bagels, a packet of lox and herb schmear, plus potato salad and bloody mary mix. I mean, what more could you need on a Sunday? You can also mix and match to create your own box from the Lox in a Box inventory, or if you've already organised a Father's Day present but you're suddenly dreaming of a weekend full of hot dogs and bagels, you can just order the box for yourself. The hot box is available for pickup from the North Bondi store or local delivery around the eastern suburbs and CBD on Father's Day. Pre-orders close Thursday, August 2.
When cinemas are running as normal, getting a glimpse of the other side of the world is as easy as stepping into a darkened theatre. While lockdowns have impacted picture palaces around the country, and Australia's huge lineup of film festivals have moved online, that experience has shifted into our lounge rooms. The latest virtual film fest to make the leap to digital: the Czech and Slovak Film Festival of Australia. In 2021, it's streaming a five-movie lineup via ACMI's online Cinema 3 platform — and it won't just evoke your travel yearnings for Central Europe, but for Antarctica as well. That look at frostier climes comes courtesy of the stunning Frem, with director and cinematographer Viera Čákanyová peering out over its icy expanse in a film that blends reality and fiction. No, you won't find sights this striking elsewhere on your normal streaming queue. Or, you can also watch book-to-screen adaptation Gump and its tale of canine companions; documentary Athanor: The Alchemical Furnace about acclaimed Czech filmmaker Jan Švankmajer; and 70s classics The Ear and Pacho, The Thief of Hybe. Top image: Hypermarket Film
Rising from the ashes of Taco King at The George Hotel, Ricos Tacos is Toby Wilson's latest tortilla venture. The taco truck has popped up around town in a few guises over the past year, including in the car park of Gelato Messina's Rosebery HQ and at Rocker Bondi, but its home for the last year has been The Grifter Brewing Co. Generally, the taco truck operates at Grifter from 12.30pm Saturdays and Sundays, but to celebrate the return of Ricos after lockdown, Grifter is hosting a relaunch party on Thursday, October 28. Fitted out with a new cart, Ricos will be serving up its fan-favourite tacos from 5pm. There are 100 free tacos on offer to the first tortilla-lovers to arrive (maximum two per person). Make sure to get down early to make the most of the offer. And yes, pairing tacos with beer is obviously on the menu.
If you're looking for an excuse to break out your cowboy hat this Halloween, look no further than the Factory Theatre's Halloween Hoedown. The inner west concert venue is collecting a heap of local modern country music acts for a night of sweet country tunes on Saturday, October 30. Costumes are (of course) encouraged at the gig, with country and western getup an obvious choice. But, any spooky costume you may have planned for the weekend is entirely acceptable. Tunes will kick off from 4pm, with Sydney country stalwarts The Morrisons and Cruisin' Deuces joined by exciting new singer-songwriters Babitha and Georgia Mulligan. Rounding out the lineup are The Sweet Jelly Rolls and Shelly's Murder Boys. The outdoor stage will be accompanied by The Factory's beloved beer garden and food trucks. After months without live music or dancing in Sydney, head down to Marrickville for an afternoon of live sets in the sun. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kZ0My4-62IE
Sydney movie lovers, prepare to be spoiled for choice when it comes to getting your next big-screen fix. With the city out of lockdown, cinemas are being inundated with high-profile features — and, with film festivals showing them. One such event getting the projectors whirring is the annual British Film Festival, which'll bring its 31-movie lineup of Brit flicks to Palace Norton, Palace Verona, Palace Central and Chauvel Cinema between Wednesday, November 3–Wednesday, December 1. Gracing the fest's titles is a who's who of UK acting talent, so if you're a fan of The Crown's Olivia Colman, Claire Foy and Josh O'Connor — or of everyone from Jamie Dornan, Colin Firth, Judi Dench and Benedict Cumberbatch to Helen Mirren, Michael Caine, Joanna Lumley and Peter Capaldi — you'll be spying plenty of familiar faces. The festival will open with true tale The Duke, starring Mirren and Jim Broadbent, with the latter playing a 60-year-old taxi driver who stole a portrait of the Duke of Wellington from the National Gallery in London. From there, highlights include the Kenneth Branagh-directed Belfast, about growing up in 1960s Northern Ireland; Last Night in Soho, Edgar Wright's new thriller featuring Anya Taylor-Joy and Thomasin McKenzie; romantic period drama Mothering Sunday, with Colman, Firth and O'Connor; and Best Sellers, a literary comedy with Michael Caine and Aubrey Plaza. Or, there's also Stardust, a biopic about the one and only David Bowie — and The Electrical Life of Louis Wan, about the eponymous artist, with Cumberbatch and Foy leading the cast. Opera singing in the Scottish highlands drives the Lumley-starring Falling for Figaro, which also features Australian Patti Cake$ actor Danielle Macdonald; Benediction marks the return of filmmaker Terence Davies (Sunset Song), this time focusing on English poet and soldier Siegfried Sassoon; and Firth pops up again in World War II-set drama Operation Mincemeat with Succession's Matthew Macfadyen. Plus, To Olivia dramatises Roald Dahl's marriage to Oscar-winning actress Patricia Neal, Stephen Fry explores bubbly booze in documentary Sparkling: The Story of Champagne, and novelist Jackie Collins also gets the doco treatment. And, as part of the British Film Festival's retrospective lineup, Stanley Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange and Barry Lyndon will grace the big screen — the former in a 4K restoration to celebrate its 50th anniversary.
There's a film festival for everything, or so it can sometimes seem — and that includes science fiction cinema. Like flicks about the future, artificial intelligence, where technology might take us and dystopian worlds? That's what's on the bill at the Sci-Fi Film Festival. The event has been going strong in Sydney for more than a few years; however, in 2021, it's making two big changes. Firstly, it's jumping into the online realm. as plenty of other fests have been already this year. Secondly, because that's one of the perks of being digital, it's streaming its 80-film program nationwide. Even better: you can access that huge number of flicks with a $29.99 all-access pass. No, you definitely can't say you don't have anything to watch between Friday, October 15–Sunday, October 31. That lineup includes 13 features and 67 shorts, and spans films from 28 different countries — including Say Yes Again, a Taiwanese title that riffs on Groundhog Day; Tales of Tomorrow, which sees a teenage boy from 1999 tasked with saving human civilisation in 2165; Steampunk Connection, a Canadian documentary about the titular blend of sci-fi and Industrial Revolution-era technology; and Infinite Light, about possibly bringing back the dead. Or, if you like your movies short, you can dive into seven different sessions. The themed programs cover everything from animation, dystopian dreamscapes and the future to humanity's battle against technology and the dark side of our nature.
To the surprise of exactly no one: many of us are looking to upgrade our home comfort level at the moment. Aussie furniture brand Koala is keen to help you do just that, with its sixth birthday sale. Nab up to 20 percent off mattresses, sheets, sofas, desks and armchairs to help you upgrade your pad or improve your night's sleep. A heap of products from across the brand's range are on sale from Monday, September 20 through until Sunday, September 26, including Koala's new range of mattresses. You can take your pick from the freshly unveiled range of mattresses which are 15 percent off and have your new sleep set up delivered to you later that day with free express delivery. Also on offer is the WFH desk, which is made from Forest Stewardship Council certified wood, easy to assemble and designed with a home office in mind. If your home office set isn't quite doing the job, you can pick up the desk for a sweet 15 percent off. Comfy Koala armchairs, sofas, silky bed sheets, dining tables and more are going with a 20 percent discount, too, so you can give your whole house a makeover. And everything comes with a 120-night trial — though, it might be hard to give any of these up after four months of comfort. The party doesn't stop at the sale though, with Koala collaborating with Jimmy Brings to put on a birthday giveaway, hosting a cupcake class and a whole bunch more on the brand's Instagram account.
First, the expected news: if you'd like to check out the latest and greatest in Irish cinema in 2021, you'll need to do so virtually. Now, the exciting news: returning for another year, and for its second virtual fest in a row, the Irish Film Festival will unleash an impressive and varied lineup upon your small screen of choice from Friday, September 3–Sunday, September 12. Wolfwalkers, one of the best movies of the past year and an absolute gem of an eco-conscious animated feature, sits at the top of IFF's must-see list. Set centuries ago, and following a young wannabe hunter by the name of Robyn Goodfellowe (voiced by Honor Kneafsey), it charts a friendship with a girl called Mebh (Eva Whittaker) who just might be a member of a mythical tribe that's able to shapeshift into wolves while they're dreaming. Other highlights include Wildfire, about a dramatic reunion between sisters; Crock of Gold: A Few Rounds with Shane MacGowan, which lets the punk poet and The Pogues frontman tell his own tale over a few brews; the Australian premiere of Phil Lynott: Songs For While I'm Away, about Thin Lizzy's lead singer and songwriter; and horror-comedy Boys from County Hell, which sees a father-son duo accidentally awaken an ancient Irish vampire in rural Derry. Or, as part of a 12-film program, there's also the Gabriel Byrne (Hereditary)-starring Death of a Ladies Man; Deadly Cuts, about Dublin hair salon stylists who take on a criminal gang; and The Bright Side, which focuses on a cynical comedian tackling cancer.
Feel like dining in the sun with a side of sweeping views? Round up your mates and head to The Glenmore. The Rocks' favourite rooftop bar has launched a series of bottomless lunches, taking place on the first Sunday of the month. To kick things off, you'll get a cocktail on arrival, followed by two hours of French rosé. You'll be sitting down to a family-style feast, too. The menu changes regularly — think ceviche tacos with avocado and charred corn, or whipped chicken liver parfait to start, followed by smoked salmon salad, Turkish-style spiced chicken or grilled steak with caramelised onion butter as mains. Sides-wise, there'll be dishes such as curried potato salad and roasted cauliflower. To check out the full sample menu, head over here. You can also catch some live music while enjoying your lavish spread. And don't forget about those stunning views across the harbour and the Opera House. This boozy feast costs $85 per person, with two sittings available at noon–2pm and 1–3pm. Bookings are limited and can be made here. [caption id="attachment_738610" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Steven Woodburn[/caption] Images: Steven Woodburn
The seventh season of Brooklyn Nine-Nine is currently dropping new episodes weekly via SBS Viceland and SBS On Demand — which means you're either eagerly catching each fresh instalment every Friday, or you've got some catch-up binging to do. Either way, if you've been watching and rewatching the hit cop sitcom since it first premiered back in 2013, then you also have something else to pop in your calendar: Isolation Trivia's upcoming B99-themed online quiz evening. How long did Charles Boyle spend dreaming of Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago's wedding? What did Rosa Diaz do before she was a cop? Who keeps swooping in and taking the Nine-Nine crew's cases? Which one is Scully and which is Hitchcock? And which one of the latter duo has a twin? If you can answer all of the above — and name Captain Holt's dog, Terry's kids, Gina's dance troupe and Jake's favourite movie — then you're set for this trivia night. And, because these fictional TV cops wouldn't want you breaking Australia's current social-distancing guidelines, it's all taking place virtually. Live-streaming from 6.30pm AEST (7.30pm AEDT) on Thursday, April 2, this online trivia contest is completely devoted to the show that was cancelled and then resurrected in the space of 36 hours, then was renewed for an eighth season before its seventh one even aired, and features more Die Hard references than you'd think possible in one sitcom. We'd keep asking Brooklyn Nine-Nine questions and dropping tidbits, but we'll save some for the big night. If you're as keen to take part as Terry is about a tub of yoghurt, you just need to head to the Isolation Trivia Facebook page, click 'get reminder' and clear out your Thursday night. That'll be your time to shine (and that can also be the title of your sex tape if you'd like). Images: SBS
Fashion, art, homewares and handcrafted goods as far as the eye can see — that's usually what's on the agenda at The Village Markets on the Gold Coast and in Brisbane. The event is taking a break under current circumstances; however that doesn't mean that you can't shop from home. In fact, that's where its first Insta Market comes in. Across the weekend of Friday, March 27–Sunday, March 28, the Village Markets Insta Market is showcasing designers, artists and curators — and highlighting just what you can buy with the click of a few buttons while sitting on your couch. Whether you're after new threads, something to pop on your shelf or some goodies for your pet, you'll find it here, as well as special offers and discounts. And, because it's all online, it's available to everyone — even if you're not in southeast Queensland. By taking part in the Insta Market, you'll also be supporting more than 70 creative small businesses — who, like many folks across many industries at present, have seen their whole lives change suddenly. If that's not a great excuse to spend a couple of days scrolling through your Instagram, then we don't know what is.
Legendary Sydney crew Mary's are giving you plenty of reason to celebrate this month. First up, it's just announced the opening of Mary's On Top — a rooftop bar at much-loved party venue The Lansdowne — on Thursday, June 4. Also on that day, it's reopening its doors to punters after having to close dine-in service due to COVID-19. Sure, you could get it delivered, but you missed out on the good times that got served up with your burgers and fries. So, you can bet the boys will be celebrating. Co-owners Jake Smyth and Kenny Graham know that lots of Aussies have had their salaries reduced during the crisis, so they're temporarily reducing the price of food at all Mary's venues. For a week, you can get 30 percent off food at Mary's outposts in Newtown, Circular Quay, Castlereagh Street and Mary's On Top, with the deal valid for sit-in meals as well as via Deliveroo. Expect favourites such as the Mary's burger, the fried chook and the much-loved mash and gravy being dished up for a fraction of the usual cost, plus vegan fare at Circular Quay, the CBD and Mary's new rooftop venue. The brand's grungy, rock 'n' roll attitude will be alive and well, too. And it would be rude not to at least glance at the top-notch, very fun wine list. Mary's is offering 30 percent off food at its Newtown, Circular Quay, Castlereagh Street and new Mary's On Top outposts from June 4–10. You can find your closest Mary's and check out the menus here. Images: Kitti Gould and Mary's
During the COVID-19 pandemic, Chargrill Charlie's has been helping out impacted restaurants and chefs through its Local Flavours initiative. As well as selling chef Sam Young's dumplings and Kepos Street Kitchen's popular Israeli dishes, the chargrilled chook chain teamed up with pink-haired pastry chef Anna Polyviou to sell her super-chocolatey cookie dough. And sell it did — a whole two tonnes of it, to be exact. So, they're bringing it back to the streets of Sydney, quite literally. Instead of just selling buckets of the dough, Charlie's is rolling out a cookie dough van for one day. It'll travel across Sydney, following the path of Chargrill Charlie's 13 Sydney stores from east to north, kicking off at 9am and finishing around 5.30pm. Keep an ear out for the van — it'll be playing suitable ice cream van tunes — and you can snag brownie or fairy bread cookie dough in 600-gram tubs for $15 or whipped into soft serve for $5 a pop. If you miss the van, you can still try the dough. Chargrill Charlie's will be selling tubs at all of its stores and cookie dough thickshakes for $6.90 at Annandale, Dee Why, Drummoyne, Frenchs Forest, Rose Bay, St Ives and Wahroonga stores.
If you've been making plans to revamp your style, but haven't been able to rustle up the coin or are sick of online shopping, here's your chance. Hugo Boss is hosting a mega sale at its outlet stores. You'll be able to score a further 30 percent off menswear, womenswear, footwear and accessories. Whether you're after a suit for a special occasion later in the year or looking to level-up your WFH wardrobe stat, Hugo Boss's mid-season outlet sale will have you sorted for a fraction of the fashion label's usual prices. You'll have to get in quick to score though, with the sale running from Wednesday, May 27 until Sunday, June 28 (or until stocks last). In Sydney, you can head to Birkenhead Point Outlet Centre and DFO Homebush to get these quality threads for such a steal. Current opening hours at all BOSS outlets are 11am–4pm. Hugo Boss mid-season outlet sale will run from Wednesday, May 27 till Sunday, June 28, or until stocks last (excludes new season stock). To find your closest outlet, visit the website.
As COVID-19 continues to spread around the world, Australian's Asian eateries have been doing it tough — even closing down, in some cases — with patron numbers plummeting across the board. Sydney's Chinatown hasn't been immune; however if you're hankering for some sweet and sour pork or kung pao chicken, the Lord Gladstone is giving you an extra incentive to head out to dinner. First, make a date with whichever Chinatown restaurant takes your fancy. Then, mosey on over to the Lord Gladstone with your receipt in hand. Flash that piece of paper at the bar on the same day as your meal, and you'll score your first round of drinks for free. By 'same day', you'll need to make your way to the Lord Gladstone before midnight hits to nab your free beverages. It's the perfect excuse for a nightcap, though — and another reason to support an area that's struggling at present.
Before Buffy Sainte-Marie joins the top-notch lineup at Bluesfest 2020, the Indigenous Canadian American singer-songwriter is performing in Sydney for just one night at City Recital Hall on Wednesday, April 8. The award-winning music powerhouse has been making music since the 60s and is still creating meaningful music today — from her groundbreaking debut It's My Way! (1964) to her most recent album Medicine Songs, released in 2017. She has a total of 21 albums to her name, and wrote the well-known anti-war anthem 'Universal Soldier', most famously performed by Donovan. She's also had the likes of Janis Joplin, Elvis Presley, Jennifer Warnes and Joe Cocker sing and record her songs. And she's considered a pioneer in electronic music. Put simply, she's a pretty big deal. Expect music that speaks to hard-hitting social issues, including First Nations rights, protesting climate change and greed. Think Joni Mitchell and Joan Baez, Patti Smith's 'People Have the Power' and a bit of Midnight Oil thrown in — except entirely Buffy Sainte-Marie. So if you can't hack a ticket to Byron Bay, here's your chance to catch the fierce Cree artist on stage. You'll want to nab your tickets sooner rather than later. To book, head here. [caption id="attachment_764363" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Keith Saunders[/caption]
Get your dancing shoes on, because one big ol' glittery party series is headed to your living room. LGBTQI+ club night Poof Doof is throwing weekly digital dance nights — so expect to get down to anthems by the likes of Gloria Gaynor, Madonna, Pet Shop Boys and Cher, 'cause this party is here, loud and (very) queer. The legendary Melbourne party collective is streaming Poof Doof Direct every Saturday from 9pm via Facebook, Twitch and YouTube. Each week, you'll be treated to pumping tunes from a range of DJs. And of course, it wouldn't be a proper Poof Doof party without some drag performances, too. Coming up on Saturday, May 2, is a massive one-off Poof Doof Sydney party live streaming straight from The Ivy. Poof Doof took up residency in the Sydney institution last November and has been dishing up a weekly dance-heavy night ever since. Not even COVID-19 can keep it completely quiet. Expect to be dancing to a packed lineup of DJs, including headlining act Sneaky Sound System, Sveta, Troy Beman and James Alexandr. Plus, catch dazzling drag performances from queens Danni Issues, Hannah Conda and Faux Fur, with Jimi The Kween hosting the entire night. For Sydneysiders wanting to take their night in to the next level, you get a Poof Doof Party Pack ($75) delivered to your door. It'll be filled with vodka, two cans of red bull, some soda water and two Hahn Super Drys. Orders can be made here prior to 9am on Saturday. To catch a glimpse of what you're in for, check out the video below. https://www.facebook.com/PoofDoof/videos/1048635328855408/
Four Australian female composers. Four singers. Four dramatic operatic works inspired by mythology, literature and rare Australian birds. World premiering on one night. Streaming on the Carriageworks Facebook page at 7.30pm AEST on Saturday, April 25, the four-part Breaking Glass was meant to be performed inside the physical arts precinct from March 8–April 4, but its temporarily closure forced the show's premiere online. Presented by Sydney Chamber Opera and Carriageworks together with the Sydney Conservatorium of Music's Composing Women Program, Breaking Glass is broken into four one-act operas by female composers. There's Commute by Peggy Polias, which combines Homer's Iliad with a modern women's uneasy walk home at night; Josephine Macken's terrifying The Tent inspired by Margaret Atwood's writing; The Invisible Bird by Bree van Reyk, telling the true tale of a rare Australian parrot; and Georgia Scott's Her Dark Marauder, which uses Sylvia Plath's poetry to explore a women's battle for identity. If you can't already tell, these aren't your typical operas. Expect electronic music, "abstract aural soundscapes", smoke surrounding performers, kaleidoscopic digital projections and stories firmly planted in the 21st century. Breaking Glass world premieres on Carriageworks' Facebook page at 7.30pm. Images: Daniel Boud
In early June, beachside favourite Bondi Beach Public Bar reopened to the public and celebrated with 50 percent off all food and happy hour prices for a heap of beers, wine and cocktails — all day, every day until the end of June. Because the team knows many of our wallets are looking a little slim right now, it's decided to extend the offer until the end of July. This means you have another 31 days to swing past the Campbell Parade pub for $5 tacos, $10 burgers (beef, fish, buttermilk-fried chicken and vego) and $16 steaks, as well as $6 select wines and beers and $12 margaritas, negronis and espresso martinis. BBPB has also brought back the tunes. While you can't get up and dance — no mingling allowed at hospo venues just yet — you can sit and shimmy along to DJ Levins on Good Life Fridays and Public Affection on Saturdays. You can either book a table (for a minimum of three people) or walk in, with online reservations over here. Top image: Kitti Gould
The MCA's after-dark, adults-only art party is back — but not as you know it. While usually we'd run amok in the Circular Quay museum, this time we'll be having art-filled fun from our couches. Yep, for the first time ever, Artbar is going digital — and it won't cost you a dime. The one-night-only event is a collaboration between the MCA and the 22nd Biennale of Sydney, which is currently exhibiting across multiple Sydney venues. Much like the citywide arts festival, this season's Artbar is titled Nirin and is celebrating First Nations artists, connected by themes of ceremony, ritual and tradition. It's going down this Friday, June 26 and will kick off at 7pm with a Welcome to Country by artists Julie Bukari Webb and Corina Norman from the Blacktown Native Institution. [caption id="attachment_773774" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Caroline Garcia by Jacquie Manning. All images courtesy and © the artist.[/caption] You'll also learn how to cut some serious shapes in a digital dance class led by self-described "culturally promiscuous" interdisciplinary artist Caroline Garcia and catch a gig by the Tamil drummers from the Parai-Yah! Project (STARTTS and Tamil Arts Australia). You'll get to visit Tongan Australian artist Latai Taumoepeau's studio and take virtual tours of the Biennale exhibitions at the MCA, too. There'll also be a live set by female DJ MzRisk, coming straight from the MCA rooftop terrace to your living room. All up, expect a night full of art, music and performances, which will foster the ideas of ceremony and tradition in experimental and boundary-pushing ways. To attend this late-night art shindig from the comfort of your home, you can register for exclusive offers and first access here or head to the MCA website. You can also join its Facebook event to keep up with the latest and join in conversation as the event's happening. The live-stream will run from 7–10pm. MCA Artbar: Nirin is running from 7–10pm on Friday, June 26. For further details — and to tune in — head to the MCA website. Top images: Blacktown Native Institution Site, Dharug traditional owner Shanaya Donovan at the opening of BNI handover, 2018, image courtesy of Landcom, Sydney and DSMG, Sydney, Photograph: Joseph Mayer; MCA, Photograph: Liam Cameron; and Latai Taumoepeau, 'The Last Resort', 2020, Photograph: Zan Wimberley, courtesy of the artist.
Often described as "the white wine for red wine lovers", orange wines are certainly going through a moment, thanks to their big, dry flavours. Whether you consider yourself a vino aficionado or you're just getting into the orange wine scene, you won't want to miss an evening dedicated to the sunrise-hued drop coming to Sorry Thanks I Love You this week. Don't worry, this is not a stuffy traditional wine tasting. It's less of a lesson and instead more of an opportunity for casual drinks with a friend or loved one — with a little wine education on the side. Running on Thursday, June 2 from 6.30-8pm, tickets will set you back $50. That lands you four different orange wine varietals — and complimentary snacks — over the 90 minute period. As you sip and scoff, roaming sommelier Sarah Devine from P&V Wine + Liquor Merchants be taking you through the finer points of orange wine. Attendees keen to learn can get schooled up on the history and culture, while those just there for date night can focus on gasbagging with their partner. It's up to you. Set in the mini-atrium of the Martin Place store, you can check out some of the high-end fashion, gourmet food, craft beverages, jewellery and accessories while you're there. Organisers say space is extremely limited, so book your wine-tasting table sooner rather than later. [caption id="attachment_855737" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Garreth Paul[/caption]
On January 26 of this year, Yuin rapper and host of Triple J's Blak Out launched We Are Warriors, a platform dedicated to inspiring and empowering Indigenous youth through a system of role models. "After experiencing racism as a kid, my Mum spoke to me three of the most powerful words I have ever heard – We Are Warriors. It instilled a fire inside of me, a sense of pride and this unimaginable desire to be successful and show the world that WE ARE WARRIORS," said Nooky. "This journey has led me to launch a platform to highlight prolific Indigenous excellence across music, fashion, sports and everything in between; a celebration of Blak excellence to empower young people in our community." As part of Vivid Sydney, Nooky is taking over the Oxford Art Factory with a huge roster of talent who share the We Are Warriors vision. On the lineup, there are local favourites like Triple One, Ziggy Ramo and The Terrys alongside the likes of Dallas Woods, Akala Newman, Jade Le Flay, Jayvy, Muggera, Roman Jody and Scraps. Plus, you can expect some special guests to pop-up throughout the night. All profits from the tickets to the We Are Warriors enterprise will go towards supporting workshops, mentoring programs and support for Indigenous youth and young Indigenous creatives. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dq-B-GhrDJs
