A CBD institution, Frankie's Pizza is known for its live music, pinball machines, freshly squeezed apple juice an,d of course, its pizza menu. The much-loved pizza menu is now getting a revamp, however, with the help of Swillhouse collaborator Dan Pepperell (Restaurant Hubert, Alberto Lounge) and a trip to New York City. Pepperell and Swillhouse co-founder Anton Forte headed on a research trip to New York back in a pre-COVID February 2020 to experience the best pizza by the slice the city had to offer. The pair returned to Sydney with a swathe of new ideas for the Frankie's and have subsequently conjured up the venue's new menu. Along with a new dough recipe that includes a three-day fermentation process, Frankie's has introduced 13 new pizza toppings for you to get your mouths around. Leading the charge are new takes on classics like a three-cheese margherita, the pepperoni featuring Frankie's hot honey and a rosemary number with scamorza and garlic. On the more extravagant side of things, you'll be able to grab yourself a slice of zucchini pizza with lemon, chilli, garlic, stracciatella and mint; the Texas, which combines two different cheeses, roasted corn, red onion, jalapeños; or the Bismark with truffle salami and egg yolk. You can add on dipping sauces for $3 a pop, too, and a tin of Cuca anchovies for $6. Plus, despite the makeover, the venue's pizzas are available at an affordable $6 a slice. The venue has also expanded its already extensive beer list in conjunction with the new menu, which now stars the likes of a wasabi porter, a blood orange gose from California's Anderson Valley and Moon Dog's Coconut Cake imperial dark ale. You can find the full menu here. If you're looking for an excuse to stop and try the new range of pizza on offer, you can catch Frankie's House Band every Monday, karaoke and trivia every Tuesday, and bands every Wednesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday.You can check out what's on at Frankie's at its website. Frankie's Pizza is located at 50 Hunter Street, Sydney and is open 4pm–3am Saturday–Thursday and 12pm–3am Friday. Top image: Katje Ford
High in the sub-alpine region you'll find the remote Gummi Falls Campground, which is well and truly out there in the wild. You'll need to take a 4WD to access this untamed, natural bit of country, but don't worry, there are barbecue facilities and toilets once you're there. Spend your day mountain biking or horse riding through the many trails that surround the bewitchingly beautiful region, and try to spot elusive native fauna like the long-nosed potoroo, spotted-tail quoll and powerful owl. If you fancy a different angle, drop a line in the crystal clear Manning River, known for its abundant supply of freshwater bass. Image: Elliot Kramer
Trolls brings its tiny, brightly coiffed creatures to the screen with plenty of baggage. You might have played with the toys that the film is based on. You probably don't have particularly fond memories of many other toy-based franchises – think Transformers, G.I. Joe and Battleship. At the very least, you've almost certainly had Justin Timberlake's inescapable 'Can't Stop the Feeling', which features in the flick, stuck in your head for months. Here's the good news: as directed by SpongeBob SquarePants veterans Mike Mitchell and Walt Dohrn, Trolls is far from the eye-roll-worthy effort it might seem like on paper. On a scale ranging from The Smurfs to The LEGO Movie, it falls firmly in the middle — even if it does little more than swap blue critters for their brightly coloured counterparts, with elements of Cinderella thrown in as well. Here, trolls are "the happiest creatures the world has ever known," and don't they like to sing, dance and hug about it. The scrapbook-loving, party-throwing Princess Poppy (Anna Kendrick) often leads the charge, and she has plenty to celebrate. Twenty years earlier, the pocket-sized folk were frequently scooped up and eaten by huge, hungry beings called Bergens, but quick thinking on the part of King Peppy (Jeffrey Tambor) saw them escape and live joyously ever after. But their idyllic existance is suddenly shattered when an evil chef (Christine Baranski) stumbles upon their habitat. Soon, a handful of trolls are destined for the plate of Bergen Prince Gristle (Christopher Mintz-Plasse), leaving Poppy with the task of saving them, and cranky survivalist Branch (Timberlake) begrudgingly lending his assistance. There's a reason that the Bergens are so keen on catching and munching on the rainbow-hued critters: when they do, they experience a burst of ecstatic contentment that's probably on par with humans eating Nutella-slathered doughnuts. That sensation, of course, ties into the lesson at the heart of the film. As Trolls works towards the song we all know is coming — and throws up various other pop covers along the way — it serves up a heavy-handed moral about finding happiness from internal sources rather than external ones. Still, somehow the movie manages to find a balance between loud, shiny and sickly sweet, and entertaining enough. Kendrick's enthusiastic voice work helps, as do the handmade-looking visuals, which make the film's CGI appear as though it's fashioned out of felt and other crafting products. On the joke front, just as many light-hearted gags and pop culture references land as languish, which is a better strike rate than many other family films. A word of warning though: it might be dressed up in fuzzy packaging in more ways than one, but Trolls also remains the kind of flick that features glitter fart clouds and cupcakes poop. Consider yourself warned.
When Léo (debutant Eden Dambrine) and Rémi (fellow first-timer Gustav De Waele) dash the carefree dash of youth in Close's early moments, rushing from a dark bunker out into the sunshine — from rocks and forest to a bloom-filled field ablaze with colour, too — this immediately evocative Belgian drama runs joyously with them. Girl writer/director Lukas Dhont starts his sophomore feature with a tremendous moment, one that's arresting to look at and to experience. The petals pop; the camera tracks, rushes and flies; the two 13-year-olds are as exuberant and at ease as they're ever likely to be in their lives. They're sprinting because they're happy and playing, and because summer in their village — and on Léo's parents' flower farm — is theirs for the revelling in. They don't and can't realise it because no kid does, but they're also bolting from the bliss that is their visibly contented childhood to the tussles and emotions of being a teenager. Close's title does indeed apply to its two main figures; when it comes to adolescent friendships, they couldn't be tighter. As expressed in revelatory performances by Dambrine and De Waele, each of whom are genuine acting discoveries — Dhont spotted the former on a train from Antwerp to Ghent — these boys have an innocent intimate affinity closer than blood. They're euphoric with and in each other's company, and the feature plays like that's how it has always been between the two. They've also never queried or overthought what their connection means. Before high school commences, Close shows the slumber parties, and the shared hopes and dreams. It sits in on family dinners, demonstrating the ease with which each is a part of the other's broader lives amid both sets of mums and dads; Léo's are Nathalie (Léa Drucker, Custody) and Yves (Marc Weiss, Esprits de famille), Rémi's are Sophie (Émilie Dequenne, An Ordinary Man) and Peter (Kevin Janssens, Two Summers). The film adores their rapport like a summer day adores the breeze, and conveys it meticulously and movingly. To watch this 2023 Best International Feature Film Oscar-nominee, 2022 Cannes Film Festival Grand Jury Prize-winner and recipient of Sydney Film Festival's top 2022 gong is to feel, to an extent that cinema only rarely manages. In fact, Léo and Rémi's camaraderie is that vibrantly depicted, and performed with portrayals that naturalistic and unaffected, that it's three things simultaneously here: a once-in-a-lifetime marvel, as innate as the act of growing up, and instantly relatable and recognisable to anyone who has ever had their own inseparable BFF as a child. That bond is such a given for the pair themselves, and that status quo is so entrancingly communicated by the movie, that questioning it is a shock for everyone. These friends have forged their identities as a duo, but they're also at that awkward coming-of-age stage where the wider world starts intruding upon their wants, likes and senses of self, and enforcing its traditional ideas of masculinity. Bluntly, the girls in Léo and Rémi's grade ask if the two are a couple. More than that, they contend that the boys are one without even realising it. Enter the overwhelming weight of the society's norms, as Léo struggles with the schoolyard query and slowly pulls away. Words have consequences in Close. Actions do along with them. What kicks off as a portrait of a perfect friendship then segues into the agony of an idyll bursting. As homophobic jeers echo, Léo withdraws, boisterously palling around with other classmates instead and opting to take up ice hockey. Rémi keeps trying to reach out, and keeps showing his pain and confusion as Léo ditches him at breaks, after lessons, and on their usual rides to and from class. In a sensitive script penned with his Girl co-scribe Angelo Tijssens, Dhont understands the heartache and heartbreak of a boyhood bond dissolving. His feature ripples with grief on a variety of levels. But the filmmaker and the film alike also deeply appreciate the heady jubilation of its opening third. They relish it. Close's second half is shattering; however, this is a movie that knows that to have forged such a connection is a thing to treasure even when it's lost. Close's second half wouldn't devastate as it does if its first wasn't so keenly felt. This isn't an overplayed picture — understatement is one of its key and crucial elements — but it's expertly attuned to what it's like to have a kindred spirit in your youth, and to the immense void left when that's gone. Perhaps the best way to describe Close is with its homonym's antonym: open. Even when Léo begins closing himself off to Rémi, the film he's in remains unguarded in its gaze and emotions — and Dambrine and De Waele's performances retain the same trait as well. To watch Close is also to peer into the faces that fill its frames, as lensed vividly in claustrophobic closeups and telling wide shots by cinematographer Frank van den Eeden (Nobody Has to Know, and also Dhont's Girl), and to embrace the swirl of sentiments lingering inside. Looking at the movie's two young stars never simply involves seeing them overtly shift in tone. Spending more time with Dambrine isn't just a case of watching conflict, sorrow, realisation and guilt flicker in his eyes, either. Similarly, when Close intently observes the always-excellent Drucker in a pivotal mid-movie moment, then gives Dequenne more attention in its later scenes, it's open to — and tender about — how complicated its scenario and feelings have become. The details in Close are everything, as they are in all relationships. Here's a mere four examples: the alternating closeness and space that van den Eeden spies when Léo and Rémi share a mattress, as kids at sleepovers do; the pride that wells in Léo's eyes as he watches skilled musician Rémi play the oboe; the seconds that stretch like lifetimes as Léo, Drucker and Dequenne process trauma right in front of the audience; and the seasons passing, as marked by the flower farm's rainbow of colours revolving through its annual cycle. As set to a subtly rousing string-and-oboe score by Valentin Hadjadj (another Girl returnee), every aspect of this delicately crafted gem is personal yet universal, as it should be considering its origins. Dhont harked back to his own close friendships as a teen, while also taking inspiration from psychologist Niobe Way's Deep Secrets: Boys' Friendships and the Crisis of Connection, a study of 100 boys aged 13–18. It's no wonder, then, that Close couldn't feel more raw, rich and authentic.
So, you're the eager kind of bastard (not the Snow type mind you) who likes to throw spoilers in the face of your lessers? Lucky for you, the Game of Thrones edition of Goodgod Trivia is open to lovers of the books and TV series, so you'll be able to use that smug mouth to win. Or die. Costume is not mandatory, but greatly rewarded, with furs and armour specifically mentioned. White walkers, maesters, red priests, naked extras and dung-faced peasants will also most likely be in abundance, so if you really want to impress you'll need to think outside the boxset (someone had better turn up as the animated map of the opening credits, is what we're saying here). A host of prizes are on offer, presumably for things such as witty team names like 'The Rains of Can We Get Free Beer', a pin-the-scowl on Cersei, and the team that completes the quickest beheading that you least expected. Grab a table early, because it's winter soon.
Do you hear the people sing? Singing the songs that aren't quite clear. It is the music of the musical we love and hence our fear. For while Hooper's craft is strong, And The King's Speech touched us all, There is a humph bl'furston — wait...what did Hugh just saaaaay? Such is the astounding opening sequence of Tom Hooper's eagerly anticipated Les Miserables. Not the song, of course (that one comes later), but there is music and it is muffled. That's because the opening shot, like most of the film, is an exercise in sensory overload: a raging sea, a heaving ship in ruins, and hundreds of bedraggled convicts hauling it into dry dock whilst belting out 'Look Down'. All the songs were recorded live on set to give the film a greater sense of realism, and while Hooper succeeded on that front, it regrettably comes at the expense of clarity, with lyrics often drowned out by extraneous events. Still, this is one of musical theatre's most famous stories, and, thankfully, it's beautiful, rousing melodies can only be subdued so far. Anne Hathaway leads the charge with her exquisite, tearful rendition of 'I dreamed a dream' and it takes just seconds to entirely forget SuBo ever happened. This sublime single shot on the transformed Hathaway ensnares unreservedly and sets an almost impossible benchmark for her co-stars to achieve. Coming closest behind, though, are Hugh Jackman as Jean Valjean and Samantha Barks as Eponine. Both lend their characters vital stage experience, whilst others like Russell Crowe, Sasha Baron Cohen, and Helena Bonham Carter struggle for their lack of it. Eddie Redmayne is the surprise standout, delivering a moving rendition of 'Empty Chairs at Empty Tables', while Amanda Seyfried absolutely fits the bill as Cosette. Les Miserables is one for the whole family, so long as the family is prepared to discuss prostitution, murder and revolutionary war. It sounds a little tough, but not nearly as tough as trying not to sing along and aloud to all those memorable tunes.
"You'll flip over our burgers" is the catch cry of this American diner which serves up indulgent food and good ol' fashion fun. There's rock 'n' roll tunes, mirrors galore, stools that spin and themed outfits for the waitstaff. Oh, and they have some American fizzy drinks — grape Fanta anyone? It's a dentist's nightmare in a can. Batch Burger delivers everything you'd expect from an American-style diner menu. For breakfast try the American stack with fried egg, American bacon and maple syrup ($15). It's bound to make any home sick American weep with joy over the sweet and savoury combo. If you're starving (read: hungover), try the good value big breakfast ($16) and wash it down with a cold drip coffee which changes weekly ($4). Or be a bit more adventurous with a root beer float ($6). The cheeseburger grande ($12.50) can't be ignored. It's full of bacon, cheese and tomato, with American mustard (of course) and fruit relish on a seeded brioche bun. And the tell-tale sign of a good burger place? When they ask how you want your beef burger cooked (and when they cook it to perfection). The fries (side $2.50) were indeed fries. Nothing special. And the corn ($4) was a bit sad and dried out — with faux grill marks and lacking the juicy corn crunch you'd expect. It wasn't quite the paprika and lime mayo experience that the menu spoke of. There are also salad options. But no-one's really there for the salad. To finish, there's the option of a soft serve cone ($3) and for an extra 50 cents scatter on some chocolate and nuts. The food is far from fancy, but that's not what this place is trying to do. It's the full on diner experience, but just down the road from the Prime Minister's Lodge. Much cheaper than an airfare to the US of A, and perfect for the expat friend catch-up. The burgers are juicy and delicious, and full of those all American condiments and relishes that make people drool. It's also got the novelty factor working for it. While some dishes aren't amazing, some are just meant to be simple. Image credit: Andrew Worssam Photography
When we take that first sip of our barista-brewed coffee on a workday morning, a lot of us can't actually imagine living without coffee. But what about living without a roof over your head or a guaranteed meal? Unfortunately, this is what many homeless people around Australia face each day, but on Friday, August 4, you can help your fellow Aussies out simply by buying a coffee as part of CafeSmart. CafeSmart is an annual event from StreetSmart that raises money and awareness for the homeless and is back for its seventh year running. This year over 500 cafes will aim to raise more than last year's total of $160,523. So how does it work? From every coffee purchased on August 4 at a participating cafe around Australia, $1 will be donated towards local projects. So if your go-to local isn't participating, shake things up for a day and head to one that is. Prefer a hot chocolate? You can also donate at the counter. Simply by aiming for a bighearted cafe, you'll be helping some of our country's most in-need humans, so treat yourself to a third or fourth coffee guilt-free. There are a heap of cafes participating across the city, but some include: The Grounds of Alexandria The Boathouse Bills Artificer Coffee Tea and Me Single O Three Blue Ducks Brewtown Newtown Daisy's Milkbar
First things first: Lady Macbeth isn't about William Shakespeare's famous character. It does, however, bring some of the Bard's best-known words to mind. "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet," he waxed lyrical in Romeo and Juliet. It's a statement that rings true here, in a film about a woman every bit as calculating, ambitious, disarming and deadly as her notorious namesake. In adapting Nikolai Leskov's 1865 novella Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District, first-time feature director William Oldroyd delivers a stunning character study, an unnerving portrait of the female experience in the 19th century, and a tense psychodrama. With playwright turned screenwriter Alice Birch moving the action from the book's Russian setting to Northern England, Lady Macbeth explores the married woes of young Katherine (Florence Pugh), who is wed to the unkindly but wealthy Alexander (Paul Hilton), confined within his family's rural estate and treated like property. As her overbearing father-in-law Boris (Christopher Fairbank) explains, she has been bought and paid for; accordingly, tending to her husband's needs should now be the only reason for Katherine's existence. Exploring the dismal way English women were treated just 150 years ago drives much of the film's first act, as it touches on not only gender but also race and class courtesy of Katherine's black housemaid Anna (Naomi Ackie). Showing how Katherine plans to break free from her restrictive regime underscores everything that follows. When an affair with one of Alexander's handsome groomsmen, Sebastian (Cosmo Jarvis), gives her a glimpse of a different life, she's reluctant to return to the drudgery that comprises her version of normality. In fact, she's reluctant enough to scheme, flout convention, and generally do whatever it takes to regain her independence. If you're familiar with Macbeth, you'll have an idea of the kinds of plots she conjures up. If you're not, let's just say that getting caught in Katherine's way isn't recommended. In other hands, Lady Macbeth might've been more of a bodice-ripper. Constraining undergarments are indeed torn open and tossed aside, a sexual awakening takes place, and passions refuse to be contained. And yet it's the intensity of Katherine's feelings, not only for Sebastian but also for control over her life, that Oldroyd and Birch thrust to the fore. The film is austerely shot and composed; Australian cinematographer Ari Wegner (The Kettering Incident) keeps the visuals largely still, gloomily lit and posed from a distance, allowing the underlying emotions to bubble up against bleak images and a dour atmosphere. Of course, the movie's stylistic restraint serves another purpose. When such a potent figure stalks through almost every frame — as brought to life with such a stunning central performance — dialling back everything around her is an astute choice. And what a force to be reckoned with Pugh turns out to be, so assured that it's hard to believe that Lady Macbeth is only her second big screen role (she previously appeared in The Falling). Then again, perhaps it's apt: this is a tale of a young woman defying expectation to make a bold statement, after all. Either way, no one will forget her in a hurry — the actress, or the character she plays. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQAG253WWZU
Call it bad timing. Call it ignorance. Call it laziness. Whichever you choose, Gringo has a problem. A couple of years ago, a film could probably call its villain "the Black Panther" and ignore the fact that the comic book character exists. Now, mere months after the first-ever standalone Black Panther movie became one of the highest-grossing superhero flicks ever made, the name is impossible to overlook. Every time it's mentioned in this crime comedy, the moniker sounds awkward. More than that, it also sounds like screenwriters Anthony Tambakis (Jane Got a Gun) and Matthew Stone (Soul Men) just thought the name was cool, but didn't think much more about it. That seems to have been their general approach anyway — well that and filling the script with as much caper chaos as possible. Despite regularly travelling to Mexico for his pharmaceutical job, Nigerian immigrant Harold (David Oyelowo) is unaware of the Black Panther's (Carlos Corona) existence. The same can't be said for Promethium's ruthless CEOs, Richard (Joel Edgerton) and Elaine (Charlize Theron). The scheming duo happily took the drug lord's money and supplied him with their medical marijuana pills, but now they're keen to end the arrangement so they can sneakily sell off the business — something else they're keeping from Harold. Of course, when Richard and Elaine accompany their underling on his latest trip across the border, they discover that the Black Panther doesn't want things to change. Rather, he wants the formula to the firm's lucrative product and will do whatever it takes to get it. That includes kidnapping Harold, although the secret recipe is yet another thing the lackey doesn't know. Complicating matters is the fact that, in response to his growing personal and professional troubles, the mild-mannered middle manager has already decided to pretend that he has been abducted. Gringo's needlessly convoluted narrative is just getting started, with Harold's unhappy wife (Thandie Newton) and Richard's ex-mercenary brother (Sharlto Copley) also playing their parts. So does a young woman (Amanda Seyfried) with no idea that her boyfriend (Harry Treadaway) is trying to smuggle Promethium's drugs back into the US. To the surprise of no one, there's more than one link between the various characters, and between the array of intertwined plot threads. Jam-packed would be the nice way to describe the movie, which has been spliced together by three editors yet drags over its 111-minute running time. Overblown, unfunny, messy and meandering is another way to put it. If there's any sliver of a saving grace, it comes from Oyelowo and Theron, who stand out among the film's high-profile cast. While neither are at their best, you could put these two in nearly any picture and they'd make a considerable difference, even when they're saddled with woefully underwritten roles. Oyelowo almost makes the hapless Harold's journey believable — emphasis on "almost", because the character's jump from believing in the American dream to breaking bad for revenge feels incredibly convenient. Theron has plenty of fun chewing the scenery as the wily, icy Elaine and certainly makes more of an impression than Edgerton, not to mention the rest of the acting lineup. The last time Edgerton starred in a big-screen effort by his director brother Nash, the end result was the ace 2008 Australian crime thriller The Square. Nominated for seven AFI Awards, the film boasted well-executed twists, genuine tension and smart black comedy — and Joel co-wrote the script. With a much weaker screenplay, Gringo plays like an overdone, ineffective attempt to up the ante, using similar components but boosting the star power and budget. Still, Nash demonstrates a definite eye for action with his second full-length film, as evident in the movie's shoot-outs and chase scenes. But by the time these antics properly kick in, it's a case of too little, too late. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sx0KDIFCAu0
Sometimes the best stories are the ones that are true. Soon, you'll be able to catch a selection of the best from around the world, as Antenna Documentary Film Festival returns to Sydney with a stellar program. Celebrating its 14th edition from Thursday, February 5–Sunday, February 15, more than 50 docos are screening over the festival's 11 days, with Q&As, retrospectives and the much-loved Doc-Talk series rounding out this year's happenings. Opening the festival is the Australian premiere of The Last Guest of the Holloway Motel, a character-driven portrait of a former football star who vanished from public life in 1970s Britain, only to re-emerge decades later as the manager and sole resident of a crumbling Hollywood motel. Then, you can absorb the slow, measured narration of documentary icon Werner Herzog as his latest film, Ghost Elephants, follows an expedition into Angola's highlands in search of a legendary elephant herd. Par for the course, really. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cqIPJcfPodU Other highlights include Elon Musk Unveiled – The Tesla Experiment, a new documentary that pulls back the curtain on Musk's empire through the testimonies of close confidants, whistleblowers, victims and former high-ranking Tesla employees. Plus, The Clown of Gaza captures how performer Alaa Meqdad keeps hope alive in Palestine by becoming Aloosh the Clown, bringing joy to children in hospitals and on the streets. Antenna Documentary Film Festival will also feature a special guest appearance from American filmmaker and cinematographer Kirsten Johnson (Citizenfour, Cameraperson) and a retrospective celebrating Gillian Armstrong. Best known for the coming-of-age film Little Women, Antenna focuses on Armstrong's long-running documentary project tracing the lives of three Adelaide teens into their late 40s and beyond, with two of them joining Armstrong for an on-stage Q&A. Antenna Documentary Film Festival is held Thursday, February 5–Sunday, February 15, with screenings happening at Dendy Newtown and The Ritz Cinema, Randwick. Head to the website for more information.
Whether you're a day tripper, a holidaymaker or a local, there's no denying that Sydney is an incredibly photo-friendly city. Truly, the sheer breadth of stunning vistas is bordering on ridiculous. From sun-kissed beaches to world-famous landmarks and remarkable architecture, there really is something for everyone. We've teamed up with Samsung to pick out the best spots in Australia's largest city to take Insta-worthy pics that will be the envy of all your followers. Handily, we've also split them up into daytime and night time selections, as the camera on the Samsung Galaxy S22 Series is equipped with an incredible Nightography feature that means you get pin-sharp pictures and videos, even in low light. [caption id="attachment_702755" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Manly Beach by Paros Huckstepp[/caption] DAY Wendy's Secret Garden For three decades, Lavender Bay resident and artist Wendy Whiteley has dedicated her life to the design and upkeep of a patch of land just beyond her home, turning it from abandoned train yard into a stunning living artwork which now has official public park status. Deliberately unsignposted and full of sculptures and artefacts, Wendy's Secret Garden feels like an oasis right on the harbour, with countless beautiful nooks and crannies in which to get that perfect shot. Curl Curl Ocean Walk Any walk along the Northern Beaches coastline is beyond picturesque, but for the best views, you can't beat the one-kilometre boardwalk between Curl Curl and Freshwater. Along this oceanside stretch, you get to walk atop the cliff edge as the waves crash below. Travelling north from Freshwater also affords you the opportunity to see the underrated Curl Curl Beach arcing out before you and the incredible, endless ocean to your right. On a sunny day, there's nothing like it. Shelley Beach Manly Beach is one of Sydney's most famous, and rightly so, but it's difficult to photograph a beach when you're actually on it. A short coast-side walk from Manly brings you to the gorgeous Shelley Beach. There's all manner of vantage points where you can to capture this slice of paradise, but it's also a perfect spot from which you can see Manly, Freshwater, Curl Curl and Dee Why beaches, and, on a really clear day, beyond Long Reef headland to Collaroy and Narrabeen. Opera Bar There's no way to go to Opera Bar and not feel impossibly bougie. There can't be many places on earth with a more iconic view, and a waterside table makes for a perfect pano. In just a few seconds, you can capture the Harbour Bridge, the Opera House and Luna Park, not to mention ferries and boats zipping in and out of Circular Quay. Any non-Aussie friends on your timelines will be amazed that so many famous landmarks are viewable from just one spot. The Strand Arcade To step into The Strand Arcade is to step back in time. First opened in 1892 and originally one of five Victorian arcades in Sydney but now the only one that survives, The Strand has undergone several restorations over the years that have enabled it to retain as many of its historic features as possible, from its neoclassical columns to its famous tessellated tiled floor. Bonus fun fact: part of the music video for David Bowie's 'Let's Dance' was shot on the ground floor. Central Park Chippendale urban renewal project Central Park Sydney contains all the features that make cityscapes great. There's artwork that responds to changes in wind speed and there are two separate parks: Balfour Street Park and Chippendale Green. What dominates the landscape, however, is One Central Park — an award-winning residential and commercial tower that's known for its vertical hanging gardens which features a mixture of plants, flowers and vines that stretches over 50 metres from top to bottom. Royal Botanic Gardens Every corner of the Royal Botanic Gardens is a killer pic just waiting to happen. Whether it's the unparalleled collection of plant life, the myriad views over the city, or even a shot of the futuristic-looking Calyx, there's something to take your breath away at every turn. And, because it's bursting with flora, no two visits are ever the same, meaning your pictures will always be unique based on the season and what's in bloom right now. Bar 83 Why is it called Bar 83? Quite simply, because it's on the 83rd floor of Sydney Tower, meaning there are few places in the city from where you can see more. Until relatively recently, this floor was a private events space, but it's now open to the public as a cocktail bar inspired by the era in which the tower was built: the 1970s. So, not only do you get views for days while you sip away in Sydney's highest bar, the retro-chic of the décor is also worth making an appearance in your photo. [caption id="attachment_706664" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Cole Bennetts[/caption] NIGHT Luna Park Is there anything that evokes childlike wonder quite like a trip to the fair? And by approaching Luna Park on the water, you get to experience the excitement building as you inch ever closer. By night, Luna Park is an explosion of light, with the gigantic mouth through which visitors enter being visible from practically anywhere in the harbour, signalling fun for miles around. Chinatown Sydney's Chinatown is a bustling hive of activity at any time of day, but it truly comes alive when the sun goes down. It really does feel like wandering the streets of a charming Chinese city as brightly lit stalls and restaurants vie for your attention, all punctuated by the rows of lanterns that criss-cross the laneways. For an extra treat, head down on Friday night, when a weekly market adds even more activity to the mix. MCA Watching the lights from the ferries dance across the water at Circular Quay is photo-worthy in itself, but the nearby Museum of Contemporary Art really pulls its weight alongside some of the more famous landmarks in the vicinity. It's an imposing, impressive building on its own, but it's become known for its light shows which see the façade of the building become a riot of kaleidoscopic colour. You won't be able to resist pulling out your phone for a snap. Wynyard Station/George Street The bustling heart of the CBD is replete with bars, pubs and restaurants – there's always something going on. On top of that, you have Wynyard station and the light rail running along George Street. The end effect is the very best of the light-strewn, busy global city that Sydney truly is. It's a sight that, after the last few years we've all endured, makes you extremely grateful to live somewhere that's so vibrant and teeming with life. Coca-Cola Billboard It might seem a little odd to be leading you to a billboard for an American company, but the Coca-Cola logo is arguably the most famous in the world. But you can, famously, find an oversized version at the entrance to Kings Cross. Such a monument to capitalism is an incongruous sight in a country so famous for its beaches and bushland but here, lit up and surrounded by cars, buildings and lights, it somehow makes perfect sense. Observatory Hill Observatory Hill might feel a little way away from where all the real action is, but your slightly higher vantage point affords you the opportunity to gaze upon the southern hemisphere's most famous skyline and harbour. Up here, you'll find the view that travellers picture when they think of Sydney and, on a clear night, it's a complete no-brainer as to why. Sydneysiders might have seen this view a million times, yet it's impossible to ever tire of it. Make nights epic with Samsung Galaxy S22. For more info, head to the website. Top image: Benjamin Sow (Unsplash)
Something delightful has been happening in cinemas across the country. After months spent empty, with projectors silent, theatres bare and the smell of popcorn fading, Australian picture palaces are back in business — spanning both big chains and smaller independent sites in Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane. During COVID-19 lockdowns, no one was short on things to watch, of course. In fact, you probably feel like you've streamed every movie ever made, including new releases, comedies, music documentaries, Studio Ghibli's animated fare and Nicolas Cage-starring flicks. But, even if you've spent all your time of late glued to your small screen, we're betting you just can't wait to sit in a darkened room and soak up the splendour of the bigger version. Thankfully, plenty of new films are hitting cinemas so that you can do just that — and we've rounded up, watched and reviewed everything on offer this week. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1SEoi8r1Z4Y SUPERNOVA Stanley Tucci and Colin Firth aren't lazy, bad or bland actors. The former has an Oscar nomination for The Lovely Bones, the latter won for The King's Speech, and neither can be accused of merely playing the same character again and again. And yet, whenever either pops up on-screen, they bring a set of expectations with them — or, perhaps more accurately, they each instantly remind viewers of the traits that have served them so well over their respective four-decade careers. In features as diverse as The Devil Wears Prada and the Hunger Games films, Tucci has given a distinctive sense of flair and presence to his many parts, as well as his innate ability to appear bemused and sarcastic about life in general. Whether as Mr Darcy in Pride and Prejudice or as Mark Darcy in the Bridget Jones movies, Firth has enjoyed immense success playing reserved, introverted, dry-witted men who are more likely to ruminate stoically than to outwardly show much emotion. Teaming up in Supernova, both talents draw upon these characteristics once more, as writer/director Harry Macqueen (Hinterland) wants them to. But here's the thing about this pair of stars, who shine particularly bright in this affecting drama: far from ever settling into their own comfortable niches, they're frequently delving deeper, twisting in different directions and offering up untold surprises. A famed novelist less interested in putting pen to paper than in peering up at the stars, Tucci's Tusker knows how to defuse any scenario with his charm in Supernova, but it's apparent that he often uses that canny ability to avoid facing a number of difficulties. An acclaimed musician with an eagerly anticipated concert in the works, Firth's Sam often says little; however, the fact that he's grappling internally with feelings he can't quite do justice to in words always remains evident. Travelling around England's Lakes District, they're not just on an ordinary campervan holiday. Neither man has simply been whiling away their time before their long-awaited returns to performing and writing, either. With stops to see Sam's sister (Pippa Haywood, Four Kids and It) and her family, and to reunite with old friends, the couple are making the most of what time they have left together. Tusker is unwell, with early-onset dementia increasingly having an impact on not only his everyday life, but upon the shared existence they've treasured for decades. Read our full review. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ilNHPfOOeIs GUNDA Move over Babe, Piglet, Porky and Peppa. Thanks to monochrome-hued documentary Gunda, cinema has a brand new porcine star. Or several, to be exact; however, other than the eponymous sow, none of the attention-grabbing pigs in this movie are given names. If that feels jarring, that's because it breaks from film and television's usual treatment of animals. Typically on-screen, we see and understand the zoological beings we share this planet with as only humans can, filtering them through our own experience, perception and needs. We regard them as companions who become our trustiest and most reliable friends; as creatures who play important roles in our lives emotionally, physically and functionally; as anthropomorphised critters with feelings and traits so much like ours that it seems uncanny; and as worthy targets of deep observation or study. We almost never just let them be, though. Whether they're four-legged, furry, feathered or scaly, animals that grace screens big and small rarely allowed to exist free from our two-legged interference — or from our emotions, expectations or gaze. Gunda isn't like any other movie you've seen about all creatures great and small, but it can't ignore the shadow that humanity casts over its titular figure, her piglets, and the one-legged chicken and paired-off cows it also watches, either. It's shot on working farms, so it really doesn't have that luxury. Still, surveying these critters and their lives without narration or explanation, this quickly involving, supremely moving and deeply haunting feature is happy to let the minutiae of these creatures' existence say everything that it needs to. The delights and devastation alike are in the details, and the entire movie is filled with both. Filmmaker Victor Kossakovsky (Aquarela) looks on as Gunda's namesake gives birth, and as her offspring crawl hungrily towards her before they've even properly realised that they're now breathing. His film keeps peering their way as they squeal, explore and grow, and as they display their inquisitive, curious and sometimes mischievous personalities, too. Sometimes, this little family rolls around in the mud. At other times, they simply sleep, or Gunda takes the opportunity to enjoy some shut-eye while her piglets play. Whatever they're doing, and whenever and where, these pigs just going about their business, which the feature takes in frame by frame. In one of the documentary's interludes away from its porcine points of focus, the aforementioned chook hops about. Whether logs or twigs are involved, it too is just navigating its ordinary days. In the second of the movie's glimpses elsewhere, cattle trot and stand, and their routine couldn't seem more commonplace as well. Read our full review. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hbn8-Tpa3no AALTO Sometimes, a documentary doesn't need words, as Gunda wholeheartedly demonstrates. Aalto features plenty, all spoken as voiceover and delving into the life of great Finnish modernist architects Alvar and Aino Aalto; however, the film's visuals would've still kept viewers glued to the screen if not even a single syllable was uttered. For the bulk of the doco's duration, savvy director Virpi Suutari (Entrepreneur) fills the screen with the couple's handiwork. Furniture from the 1930s onwards and buildings up until the 1970s are seen in loving detail, with the feature's imagery zooming in on the former and walking through and soaring above the latter. Some might be familiar, especially on the homewares side — IKEA has taken a few cues from some of their designs over the years — but viewers new and well-acquainted alike will find much to catch their eye. With its smooth bends and sculptural look, the bentwood Paimio Chair is a thing of unshakeable beauty. The unpredictable curves in the pair's various wavy vases are just as vivid to behold. Combining an undulating appearance with rough bricks that Alvar complimented as "the lousiest in the world", Baker House at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology is far more striking than any other college dormitory. And there's minimalistic grace in the buildings at the University of Jyväskylä, which are among the few sites seen in the feature with people in them. To see these pieces and places, and others like them, is to be submerged into the Aaltos' way of viewing the world. Aalto doesn't just stare at the marvellous items designed by its namesakes, though. Suutari also draws upon home videos to tell their story, uses multiple unseen narrators to unfurl and comment upon their tale, and gives voice to letters penned between the pair whenever one travelled away from the other. Indeed, this isn't just a professional portrait, but a personal one, too — and a film made with admiration but not devotion. While Alvar became a world-renowned star, he isn't the sole reason that Aalto remains a famous design name. He also wasn't without his flaws. Accordingly, Aalto doesn't blindly sing his praises, peddle stock-standard male genius tropes or solely peer his way. Yes, the documentary's title mirrors its focus. Aino was a pivotal part of his architectural practice; "regardless of how the drawings are signed, they clearly worked as a team," the film's narration offers. After Aino's death, Alvar's second wife Elissa, another architect, also proved just as crucial. It would've been easy to simply worship Alvar, but Suutari cannily broadens the story around his work — and makes a better, and more interesting and engaging doco as a result. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzvwJiBFhSg CREATION STORIES Whenever someone gets 'Wonderwall' stuck in their head, they partly have Alan McGee to thank. The Scottish music industry executive and Creation Records co-founder happened to be at the same Glasgow bar as Oasis in 1993, and saw the band being turned away by management despite their claim that they were booked to play a gig. When the Manchester-based group was eventually allowed in, McGee checked out their set. He quickly offered them a recording contract and, yes, history was made. His impact upon the music world doesn't end there, either, with McGee managing The Jesus and Mary Chain, putting out records by Primal Scream and My Bloody Valentine, and getting involved in the acid house scene as well. That means that Creation Stories has much to cover. The lively biopic initially frames its episodic jumps through McGee's life via a chat between the exec (Ewen Bremner, T2: Trainspotting) and a journalist (Suki Waterhouse, The Broken Hearts Gallery), but that's just an excuse to leap back into his memories. From there, the film pinballs from his unhappy teenage years with his doting mother (Siobhan Redmond, Alice Through the Looking Glass) and stern father (Richard Jobson, Tube Tales), and his early attempts to soar to music stardom in London, to Creation's many financial ups and downs and his involvement in politics. Creation Stories is adapted from McGee's autobiography of the same name, with Trainspotting author Irvine Welsh and playwright Dean Cavanagh penning the script; however, it often feels as if McGee himself saw Rocketman and asked for his own version. That sensation comes through stylistically, thanks to the frenetic pace, vibrant splashes of colour and ample scenes of drug-fuelled partying. It's also evident in the impressionistic approach applied to McGee's life, telling a tale that mightn't always be 100-percent accurate in every minute detail but is wholly designed to capture the wild mood and vibe perfectly. Both movies boast Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrel stars as their directors, too, with Nick Moran (The Kid) jumping behind the lens here. And, the two films also benefit from standout lead performances, with Bremner as stellar as he's ever been on-screen. Indeed, the actor best known as hapless heroin addict Spud couldn't be more important in Creation Stories. So much of the film's chaotic ride through McGee's highlights and lowlights rests upon Bremner's larger-than-life portrayal, peppy presence, mile-a-minute gift of the gab and deceptive charisma, so its central talent was always going to make or break the film. There's no shaking its general adherence to the rock biopic genre, though, but there's also no doubting its alluring energy. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LLg86R4Ay-Y THE UNHOLY The Exorcist was not an easy movie to make, as exceptional documentary Leap of Faith: William Friedkin on The Exorcist made clear. But over the past four decades, the horror masterpiece has proven a very easy film to emulate again and again — or, to try to ape in anything that pairs religion and scares, at least. Copying it is nowhere near the same as matching it, of course. That's especially the case when most one-note flicks that attempt the feat simply think that crosses, creepy females and stilted, unnatural body movements are all that it takes. The Unholy is the latest example, to uninspired, unengaging, unoriginal, unconvincing and thoroughly unsurprising results. Adapted from the 1983 James Herbert novel Shrine by seasoned screenwriter turned first-time feature director Evan Spiliotopoulos (Charlie's Angels, Beauty and the Beast, The Huntsman: Winter's War), the movie's premise has promise: what if a site of a supposed vision of the Virgin Mary and subsequent claimed miracles, such as Lourdes in France and Fatima in Portugal, was targeted by a sinister spirit instead? But, despite also boasting the always-charismatic Jeffrey Dean Morgan (The Walking Dead) as its lead, all that eventuates here is a dull, derivative and not even remotely unsettling shocker of a horror flick. The fact that The Evil Dead and Drag Me to Hell's Sam Raimi is one of its producers delivers The Unholy's biggest scare. Looking constantly perplexed but still proving one of the best things about the film, Morgan plays disgraced journalist Gerry Fenn. After losing his fame and acclaim when he was caught fabricating stories, he now makes $150 per assignment chasing the slightest of flimsy supernatural leads. His current line of work brings him to the small Massachusetts town inhabited by Father Hagan (William Sadler, Bill & Ted Face the Music) and his niece Alice (Cricket Brown, Dukeland), the latter of whom is deaf. Thanks to a barren tree, a creepy doll, an eerie chapter of history and a strange run-in with Gerry, however, she can soon suddenly hear and speak. She says that can see the Virgin Mary, too. Swiftly, word about her story catches the church, media and public's attention. Even if Spiliotopoulos had kept the novel's title, it'd remain obvious that all isn't what it seems — the film starts nearly two centuries ago with a woman being burned alive at the aforementioned tree, so nothing here is subtle. But instead of pairing an exploration of the dangers of having faith without question with demonic bumps and jumps, The Unholy embraces cliches with the same passion that satan stereotypically has for fire. The cheap-looking visuals, Cary Elwes' (Black Christmas) wavering accent and the bored look on co-star Katie Aselton's (Synchronic) face hardly help, either. If you're wondering what else is currently screening in cinemas — or has been lately — check out our rundown of new films released in Australia on January 1, January 7, January 14, January 21 and January 28; February 4, February 11, February 18 and February 25; and March 4, March 11, March 18 and March 25; and April 1 and April 8. You can also read our full reviews of a heap of recent movies, such as Nomadland, Pieces of a Woman, The Dry, Promising Young Woman, Summerland, Ammonite, The Dig, The White Tiger, Only the Animals, Malcolm & Marie, News of the World, High Ground, Earwig and the Witch, The Nest, Assassins, Synchronic, Another Round, Minari, Firestarter — The Story of Bangarra, The Truffle Hunters, The Little Things, Chaos Walking, Raya and the Last Dragon, Max Richter's Sleep, Judas and the Black Messiah, Girls Can't Surf, French Exit, Saint Maud, Godzilla vs Kong, The Painter and the Thief, Nobody, The Father, Willy's Wonderland, Collective and Voyagers.
UPDATE, January 27, 2021: Savage is available to stream via Stan and Amazon Video. Tattoos covering his cheeks, nose and forehead, a scowl affixed almost as permanently, but raw sorrow lurking in his eyes, Jake Ryan cuts a striking sight in Savage. He's a walking, drinking, growling, hammer-swinging advertisement for toxic masculinity — how it looks at its most stereotypical extreme, and how it often masks pain and struggle — and the performance is the clear highlight of the Home and Away, Wolf Creek and Underbelly actor's resume to-date. Playing a character named Danny but also known as Damage, Ryan also perfectly epitomises the New Zealand gang drama he's in, which similarly wraps in-your-face packaging around a softer, richer core. Savage's protagonist and plot have had plenty of predecessors over the years in various ways, from Once Were Warriors' exploration of violence, to Mean Streets' chronicle of crime-driven youth, plus the bikie warfare of TV's Sons of Anarchy and even Aussie film 1%, but there's a weightiness on display here that can't just be wrung from a formula. That said, although first-time feature director and screenwriter Sam Kelly takes inspiration from NZ's real-life gangs, and from true tales from within their ranks spanning three decades, Savage does noticeably follow a predictable narrative path. Viewers first meet Danny in 1989, when he's the second-in-charge of the Savages, which is overseen by his lifelong best friend Moses (John Tui, Fast & Furious: Hobbs & Shaw, Solo: A Star Wars Story) but is also under threat by rank-and-file members agitating for a leadership challenge. In-fighting, and Moses' sheer desperation to remain on top, aren't Danny's biggest issues, however. Whether imposing the ramifications of being disloyal upon a younger colleague or being unable to relinquish control in an intimate situation, he's both tightly wound and silently aching, and he's also unable to shake the cumulative effect of all the factors and decisions that have led him to this testosterone-saturated point. A series of flashbacks, each fittingly moody and tense, explain why Danny is in his current situation physically, mentally and emotionally. The film first jumps to 1965, when he's nine (played by Pete's Dragon's Olly Presling), victimised by his overbearing father and sent to juvenile detention, where he initially meets and befriends a young, wild-haired Moses (Lotima Pome'e). The circumstances leading to Danny's stint in custody and his treatment while he's there each leave an imprint, with Moses swiftly becoming the only person that he can count on. Skipping forward to 1972, when the pair are in their late teens (played by James Matamua and Haanz Fa'avae-Jackson), they establish the Savages — and, although it gives them a sense of belonging that's absent elsewhere, they're soon caught in a Wellington turf war with a rival gang. Yes, all of the above narrative elements have a well-worn feel to them, but a blandly, routinely by-the-numbers flick isn't the end result here. Aided by suitably gritty and restless camerawork that mirrors Danny's inner turmoil, the film packs a punch when it lets that unease fester in quiet moments. It's also particularly astute when honing in on Danny and Moses's complicated friendship, and how pivotal it is throughout their constantly marginalised lives. There's never any doubting that Savage is a movie about family, including the traumas they can inflict, the hurt that comes with being torn away from loved ones at a young age, the kinship found in understanding pals and the concept of brotherhood in gangs, and the feature is at its most affecting when it lets these truths emanate naturally. Kelly does like to stress the point, though, and to do overtly. Indeed, the clunkiest parts of Savage involve Danny's yearning to see his mother and his tussles with his older brother Liam (played by Jack William Parker as a teen and Seth Flynn as an adult). Every year Danny, stands outside his childhood home, looks on at his parents and siblings and, unable to step into the yard, notches a mark on the fence outside — and it's an instantly and repeatedly overdone touch. When he's reunited with Liam, it's because the two brothers are in opposing crews, another obvious, template-esque inclusion that's far less effective or moving than seeing how Danny navigates the gang he has chosen as his new family. Unsurprisingly, Danny's gang life is brutal and violent, which Savage doesn't shy away from in a visual sense. Tonally, the film aims for Shakespearian levels of tragedy, too, as Sons of Anarchy did before it. But while most of the feature hits its marks, draws viewers in and keeps them interested, the movie's biggest force and asset is always Ryan. Tui also proves a commanding screen presence, as does first-timer Alex Raivaru as the latter's nemesis, while young Presling and Pome'e share a convincing rapport. When an actor plays the kind of immediately imposing role that Ryan is tasked with, however, how they handle the subtler side of the character is pivotal — and audiences can feel Danny's bubbling distress even when he's the most formidable figure figure in the room. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NK3eDfkXBzg Top image: Domino Films, Matt Grace.
Exclaiming "I'm already a star. You don't become a star: you either are one or you aren't. I am!" to get into the hottest party in Los Angeles, aspiring 1920s actor Nellie LaRoy (Margot Robbie, Amsterdam) has ambition. Gracing the same Golden Age soirée after ending his latest marriage with an overplayed joke that could've sprung from Inglourious Basterds, veteran leading man Jack Conrad (Brad Pitt, Bullet Train) wouldn't have gotten where he is without the same drive and determination. And, helping the shindig be the only place to be, including wrangling an elephant for the night's entertainment (a pachyderm that empties its bowels on everyone pushing it up a hill no less), Manny Torres (Diego Calva, Narcos: Mexico) has the eagerness to do something — anything — in show business. Meet Babylon's zeal-dripping on-screen threesome, a trio matched only in their quest to rocket sky-high as the man conjuring them up: jazz-loving, La La Land Oscar-winning, Tinseltown-adoring writer/director Damien Chazelle. As Babylon unfurls across its hefty 189-minute running time, it takes a colossal heap of ambition — perhaps as immense as the pile of cocaine that Nellie gravitates towards inside the party — to make it or even fake it in the film industry. For his fifth feature, and first since 2018's First Man, Chazelle waves around his own as enthusiastically as he possibly can. Even just considering his hefty list of conspicuous influences makes that clear, with the filmmaker unshackling his inner Baz Luhrmann, Martin Scorsese, Paul Thomas Anderson and David Lynch, to name a mere few overt nods. The Great Gatsby, Goodfellas, The Wolf of Wall Street, Boogie Nights, Magnolia, Mulholland Drive: swirl them together with Kenneth Anger's 1959 publication Hollywood Babylon, plus everything from Sunset Boulevard to Hail, Caesar!, and that's just the beginning of Chazelle's plans. The end result also makes for a relentless and ravenous movie that's always a lot, not just in length, but is dazzling (and also very funny) when it clicks. That elephant crap doesn't just make quite the opening, as splattered from a visible opening. Beneath the glitz and glamour, and aiding all things shiny and starry to appear that way, lurks something far less seductive — so Babylon posits from the outset, then keeps pulling back the curtain like it's The Wizard of Oz. Before the film's first 15 minutes are up, it has also sprayed urine, waded through orgies, thrown around furniture, thrust about drugs and danced frenzied dances (Robbie does an entrancing one, No Time to Die cinematographer Linus Sandgren does another with his soaring and swooping camerawork, and Chazelle's usual composer Justin Hurwitz sets the bouncy tone with his Golden Globe-winning score, then keeps doing so). Also, before the initial revelry recedes, Manny is smitten with Nellie, while she has an acting job the next day. Hollywood: it's where shit explodes and snakes are wrestled literally and metaphorically, and where enough wishes are granted on-screen and behind the scenes to keep everyone returning for more. In the rest of its first act, Babylon is a filmmaking western; to spend time on a silent-era set here is to gallop across cinema's frontier. Nellie is a natural, and feted for crying on cue (that she's getting her start when big gestures and performances are a necessity also assists). Manny nabs an opportunity as well, his efforts to secure a replacement camera for a pivotal epic shot before a moody director loses his light instantly one of the film's most hilarious stretches. While the preceding party was a vibe, Babylon's best bursts through this madcap on-the-lot day. Simply surveying the packed-together sets, movies made next to movies upon movies, is a delight — and the pacing, zippily juggling Nellie, Manny and Jack's exploits, is among the picture's tightest. With the feature kicking off in 1926, though, the noisy, frenzied chaos that buzzes in this sequence has a talkie-sparked expiration date. For the fools who dream, Chazelle worships stories of artists chasing lifelong fantasies and meeting stark realities, with Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench, Whiplash, La La Land and streaming series The Eddy all leading to Babylon. He's equally fond of Tinseltown's favourite tales about Tinseltown: the path-crossing of new starlets and established players as change reshapes the business forever, as a couple of A Star Is Born versions, The Artist and the masterpiece that is Singin' in the Rain have all covered. It's the boldest of moves that any director can make to fashion a film as a copy or an origin story to the latter, or both, but that's where Chazelle's ambition brilliantly heads. So, with the advent of synchronised sound, and as Manny keeps working his way up, cue Jack striving to maintain his fame and Nellie struggling with her New Jersey voice. Babylon doesn't say anything new — when you're openly going where so many flicks and filmmakers have gone before, is there anything much new to say? — but it does pull off the Luhrmann-esque feat of making its style part of its substance. This has to be a flashy, energetic, excess-laden affair, selling the allure that draws Nellie, Jack and Manny in, plus the emptiness behind it. Babylon has to be slick but messy, decadent but corrosive, and affectionate but clear-eyed about Hollywood's ills, and a heady, hectic experience. It has to be jam-packed at the same time, but it could've been that and given Li Jun Li (Devils) and Jovan Adepo (The Stand) more to do. Their characters, Anna May Wong clone Lady Fay Zhu and talented trumpeter Sidney Palmer, traverse a rise-and-fall trajectory as well. They're exuberant, fascinating, and meant to demonstrate how Asian, Black and queer figures were pushed aside. To genuinely address that point, though, they're deserving of greater focus and a weightier part in Babylon's narrative. Among the trio receiving the bulk of Chazelle's attention, Robbie is exhilarating; understanding how Nellie demands the eyeballs of everyone in her orbit is easy. Nuanced layers of pain and sorrow also linger in her non-stop portrayal when she does slow down, or sometimes glistens in her eyes alone. Her Once Upon a Time in Hollywood co-star Pitt remains in that movie's mode, happily and fittingly so — and relative newcomer Calva is terrific as Manny. Add in a well-cast Jean Smart (Hacks) as a Louella Parsons- and Hedda Hopper-inspired gossip queen, plus Tobey Maguire getting villainous and channelling Alfred Molina, and Babylon keeps stacking in moving pieces as much as moving pictures. On that, this flick doesn't end subtly. But, ambition splashing heavily again, it also has its big finale work as an ode as much as a lament.
You'd think at some point, Sydneysiders would ease up on the insatiable hunt for top notch American nosh. There's plenty around — from Black Betty BBQ to Two and Twenty, Hartsyard to Cheekyburger, Hinky Dinks to Brooklyn Standard. But there's a new kid on the block taking shaking things up with a more southern approach, a la Miss Peaches. Surly's barbecue joint and Americana bar has opened in Surry Hills, ready to serve up all the fried chicken and cornbread you could eat without unbuttoning your pants. Sitting pretty on Campbell Street beside Zoo Emporium's vintage fashion haven, Surly's is taking over the space formerly inhabited by unconventional BYO-and-set menu eatery Table for 20 and their summer Sticky Bar upstairs. It's the brainchild of Parlour Group director Brody Petersen (Riley Street Garage, The Stuffed Beaver, The Flying Squirrel) and chef Brendhan Bennison. With wooden benches, rock and roll music, Americana apparel and sports playing all night long on big screens aplenty, Surly's could be one of the most authentic looking American dive bars in Sydney so bar. Nosh-wise, this is set to be some straight-forward, like-Mama-makes southern grub here. There are four types of fries (crinkle cut, surly spicy, bacon cheese, chilli cheese), alongside Buffalo hot wings, chili con queso dip and jalapeno nachos. There's beef, veggie and Cajun chicken burgers, and some kind of deep fried onion on the menu. But the real big guns sure to draw curious Americana enthusiasts will be the fried chicken served with either mac n' cheese, southern green beans, red potato salad, coleslaw or fries; and the American barbecue plates with your choice of pulled pork, pork spare ribs, beef ribs, beef brisket or chicken thigh — served with two sides of homemade cornbread. What's on tap to wash this all down? American beers aplenty, alongside local go-tos, and enough bourbon to grow hairs on any chest. Cocktails range from your standard Margarita (served salty and on the rocks) to Bloody Caesars, Dark and Stormies, an old version of the Arnie Palmer, the John Daly ("ciggy gut and golf club not included") and something called The Dish-Licker (a classic Greyhound but with an Aussie twist). Surly's opens April 14. Maybe hold back on a big lunch before you roll on in. Find Surly's at 182 Campbell Street, Surry Hills.
Glittering Sydney Harbour views, stellar cocktails containing long pours of a delight-inducing tipple and Client Liaison maintaining sky-high vibes with their phenomenal pop tunes — all just the starters at Glenmorangie's upcoming Delicious and Wonderful World. On Friday, August 26, the award-winning liquor-maker is inviting you to explore the world through its honey-coloured glasses. After a 200-metre ascent from the Sydney Tower lobby, guests will be welcomed to Bar 83's style-heavy altitude. Glenmorangie's stand-out drops will take centre place in three cocktails (a mission led by Moët Hennesy's spirit specialist Kurtis Bosley) and creatively charged desserts by Reynold Poernomo (of KOI Dessert Bar, pictured below) will circulate the room. TLDR? You're invited to a bespoke coming together of bright lights, magic musicality and gastronomic wonder — set to deliver a delicious and wonderful night to remember. Tickets are limited, so consider yourself warned. The sips include one spotlighting X by Glenmorangie — the single malt crafted especially for mixing — and another that sees Glenmorangie's Original shaken with fresh passionfruit and lime. A sneak peek of what's alongside? Pear of Honey, Poernomo's dessert that marries honeyed maple cream with pear-ginger gel and roasted milk chocolate ganache. We hear that specific sweet treat will be available long after the night of nights. Delicious and Wonderful is taking over Bar 83 on Friday, August 26. For more information and to grab your tickets, head to the website. Images: Tanya Zouev
Imitation may be considered the sincerest form of flattery, but when one movie spends its duration seemingly trying to ape another, it also proves one of the most grating methods of filmmaking. Staring at its grey colour scheme, listening to its moody score, jumping along with its shifting timeline and unpacking its narration-heavy, twist-filled story, there's little doubt that The Girl on the Train is trying to follow in the footsteps of another recent adaptation of a page-turning novel. Alas, this movie is no Gone Girl — although thanks to its own stylistic choices, the comparison isn't going to go away any time soon. Working from Paula Hawkins' best-selling book, The Girl on the Train intertwines the plights of three women in a whodunnit thriller, while attempting to dissect — and find commonality within — the many roles women are forced to play in life. Sadly, with a flimsy script by Erin Cressida Wilson doing the source material few favours, director Tate Taylor fails to live up to expectations with this hotly anticipated adaptation. Instead, the film alternates between serious and trashy, without finding the right balance between the two. So it is that alcoholic divorcee and New York-based Englishwoman Rachel (Emily Blunt) rides the train every day, staring out the window at people she assumes are happier than she is. In the case of her ex-husband Tom (Justin Theroux), his new wife Anna (Rebecca Ferguson) and their baby, she knows that's the case. When it comes to their neighbours Megan (Haley Bennett) and Scott (Luke Evans), she's just guessing. But when Megan goes missing on the very same day that Rachel spots her on her porch with another man, questions start being asked. Before long, some of the hardest ones are directed at Rachel herself, who was seen drunk in the area but can't piece her memory together. Characters peering into the seemingly perfect lives of others is a concept that has fuelled many a movie in years gone by. And yet, you can add a distinctive lack of Hitchcockian intrigue to the list of ways that The Girl on the Train disappointments. Narrative developments are clearly foreshadowed, clichés fly thick and fast, and attempts to bust gender stereotypes remain superficial at best. In this light, even appreciating the film's place in voyeurism-obsessed cinema history offers little solace. Thank goodness for the quality cast. Whether acting erratic like Blunt, suspicious like Ferguson or furtive and discontent like Bennett, none of the picture's lead actors are quite at their best, but at least they're reliable, which makes them the best thing the film has going for it. That said, when paying close attention to how Blunt plays boozy becomes more interesting than the story itself, you know something has gone seriously wrong. There's an interesting-enough thriller at the heart of The Girl on the Train. Unfortunately, we never get to see it.
As everyone takes on paleo diets and embraces kale and cacao like they're going out of style, it can be easy to forget the real purpose of good nutrition. No, it's not to impress people with buzzwords or nom on superfoods as a fashion statement — it's about your health and happiness. In an effort to bring this message back to the fore, Australia's first "happiness restaurant" has opened in Melbourne. With chemicals on their mind and delicious fruit on their plates, Serotonin Dealer has swung open the doors of their Madden Grove establishment, Serotonin Eatery, in Richmond. In case you missed that class in high school biology, serotonin is a chemical released by your body that produces the feeling of happiness. There a number of ways you can increase your serotonin levels — get a good night's sleep, maybe grab a little sunlight, cut down on your coffee and booze — but it's also got a lot to do with your food. Despite what you may secretly hope, a big binge at Maccas isn't going to make your body very happy. What we really crave is raw, chemical-free, plant-based foods. This is what Serotonin Eatery will be focusing on. "I don't believe in diets," says founder Emily Arundel. "I believe that everyone should just be aware of what they are putting into their bodies and make the right choices to lead a healthy life." Accordingly, Arundel's cafe will serve fresh juices, smoothies and fibre-rich treats for breakfast, lunch and weekly set dinners. But it won't stop there. With personal trainers and yoga instructors on site for daily morning classes, Serotonin Eatery will be an interactive, inclusive one-stop health shop — a welcome effort to curb Australia's climbing rates of obesity, depression and anxiety. Find Serotonin Eatery at 52 Madden Grove, Burnley. Open Wed-Fri 7am-4pm and Sat-Sun 8am-4pm. Images: Didriks via photopin cc, Serotonin Dealer.
Something delightful has been happening in cinemas in some parts of the country. After numerous periods spent empty during the pandemic, with projectors silent, theatres bare and the smell of popcorn fading, picture palaces in many Australian regions are back in business — including both big chains and smaller independent sites in Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane. During COVID-19 lockdowns, no one was short on things to watch, of course. In fact, you probably feel like you've streamed every movie ever made, including new releases, Studio Ghibli's animated fare and Nicolas Cage-starring flicks. But, even if you've spent all your time of late glued to your small screen, we're betting you just can't wait to sit in a darkened room and soak up the splendour of the bigger version. Thankfully, plenty of new films are hitting cinemas so that you can do just that — and we've rounded up, watched and reviewed everything on offer this week. YOU WON'T BE ALONE What's more terrifying: knowing that death is inevitable, because our fragile flesh will fail us all eventually and inescapably, or accepting that little we ever sense can truly be trusted given that everything in life changes and evolves? In horror movies, both notions stalk through the genre like whichever slasher/killer/malevolent force any filmmaker feels like conjuring up in any particular flick — and in You Won't Be Alone, the two ideas shudder through one helluva feature debut by Macedonian Australian writer/director Goran Stolevski. An expiration date isn't just a certainty within this film's frames. It's part of a non-stop cycle that sees transformation as just as much of a constant. You Won't Be Alone is a poetically shot, persistently potent picture about witches but, as the best unsettling movies are, it's also about so much that thrums through the existence we all know. Viewers mightn't be living two centuries back and dancing with a sorceress, but they should still feel the film's truths in their bones. First, however, a comparison. Sometimes a resemblance is so obvious that it simply has to be uttered and acknowledged, and that's the case here. Stolevski's film, the first of two by him in 2022 — MIFF's opening-night pick Of an Age is the other — boasts lyrical visuals, especially of nature, that instantly bring the famously rhapsodic aesthetics favoured by Terrence Malick (The Tree of Life, A Hidden Life) to mind. Its musings on the nature of life, and human nature as well, easily do the same. Set long ago, lingering in villages wracked by superstition and exploring a myth about a witch, You Won't Be Alone conjures up thoughts of Robert Eggers' The Witch, too. Indeed, if Malick had directed that recent favourite, the end product might've come close to this entrancing effort. Consider Stolevski's feature the result of dreams conjured up with those two touchstones in his head, though, rather than an imitator. The place: Macedonia. The time: the 19th century. The focus: a baby chosen by the Wolf-Eateress (Anamaria Marinca, The Old Guard) to be her offsider. Actually, that's not the real beginning of anyone's tale here in the broader scheme of things — and this is a movie that understands that all of life feeds into an ongoing bigger picture, as it always has and always will — but the infant's plight is as good an entry point as any. The child's distraught mother Yoana (Kamka Tocinovski, Angels Fallen) pleads for any other result than losing her newborn. You Won't Be Alone's feared figure has the ability to select one protege, then to bestow them with her otherworldly skills, and she's determined to secure her pick. That said, she does agree to a bargain. She'll let the little one reach the age of 16 first, but Old Maid Maria, as the Wolf-Eateress is also known, won't forget to claim her prize when the years pass. Nevena (Sara Klimoska, Black Sun) lives out that formative period in a cave, in her mum's attempt to stave off her fate — and with all that resides beyond her hiding spot's walls glimpsed only through a hole up high. Then the Wolf-Eateress comes calling, as she promised she would. From there, Nevena's initiation into the world — of humans, and of her physically and emotionally scarred mentor — is unsurprisingly jarring. Her transition from the care and protection of her "whisper-mama" to the kill-to-survive ruthlessness of her new "witch-mama" disappoints the latter, soon leaving the girl on her own. Still, the need to hunt, devour and mutate has already taken hold, even if Nevena is left fending for herself as she shapeshifts between animals and other humans. With Noomi Rapace (Lamb), Alice Englert (The Power of the Dog) and Carloto Cotta (The Tsugua Diaries) also among the cast, You Won't Be Alone turns Nevena's curiosity-driven experiences of life, love, loss, identity, desire, pain, envy and power into an unforgettable, mesmerising and thoughtful gothic horror fable — charting switches and the stories that come with them with each metamorphosis. Read our full review. If you're wondering what else is currently screening in Australian cinemas — or has been lately — check out our rundown of new films released in Australia on June 2, June 9, June 16, June 23 and June 30; and July 7, July 14, July 21 and July 28; August 4, August 11, August 18 and August 25; and September 1, September 8 and September 15. You can also read our full reviews of a heap of recent movies, such as Mothering Sunday, Jurassic World Dominion, A Hero, Benediction, Lightyear, Men, Elvis, Lost Illusions, Nude Tuesday, Ali & Ava, Thor: Love and Thunder, Compartment No. 6, Sundown, The Gray Man, The Phantom of the Open, The Black Phone, Where the Crawdads Sing, Official Competition, The Forgiven, Full Time, Murder Party, Bullet Train, Nope, The Princess, 6 Festivals, Good Luck to You, Leo Grande, Crimes of the Future, Bosch & Rockit, Fire of Love, Beast, Blaze, Hit the Road, Three Thousand Years of Longing, Orphan: First Kill, The Quiet Girl, Flux Gourmet, Bodies Bodies Bodies, Moonage Daydream, Ticket to Paradise and Clean.
One of the world's best chefs has teamed up with the legends at OzHarvest to convert a 100-year-old Surry Hills home into Refettorio OzHarvest Sydney, an eatery with the goal of feeding those in need. Massimo Bottura is the culinary powerhouse behind three Michelin-starred restaurant Osteria Francescana, which has previously claimed the top spot on the prestigious World's 50 Best Restaurants list. Bottura has set up Refettorios in cities across Europe, North America and South America in collaboration with his not-for-profit organisation Food for Soul. Refettorio OzHarvest Sydney is his first venture in Australia and is set to open on Crown Street from Thursday, February 24, providing free-of-charge lunches to Sydneysiders in need of food assistance Tuesday to Friday. The restaurant was initially teased in 2019, but was delayed due to COVID-19 according to OzHarvest Founder and CEO Ronni Kahn AO. "It has always been my dream to open a venue where vulnerable people can enjoy good food in exquisite surroundings and be treated with dignity and respect," Kahn said. "When I first met Massimo, it was like two meteors colliding and the result has helped this dream come true!" Bottura mirrored this sentiment, "When I met Ronni, I knew OzHarvest was the perfect partner for the first Refettorio in Australia — we have the same passion, determination and goodwill which you need to get a project like this off the ground!" The Surry Hills eatery will apply OzHarvest's zero-waste policy to its lunches, rescuing ingredients that may have gone to waste and using them to create gourmet meals. The venue can seat up to 50 diners and will offer up a continually changing menu based on the produce available that week. "It's a warm hug we give our guests," Bottura says. "When people ask what a Refettorio is, I describe it as a cultural project that shares beauty and hospitality in a different way, where we treat our guests like we do at our restaurants." When the restaurant is not being used to serve patrons, the space will be used to run education programs through OzHarvest and will be offered to local charities. The wider Sydney community will also have the chance to experience the restaurant later in the year through a series of events and neighbourhood dinners. If you'd like to lend a helping hand to Refettorio OzHarvest Sydney you can apply to volunteer or donate to OzHarvest via the organisation's website. Refettorio OzHarvest Sydney will open at 481 Crown Street, Surry Hills on Thursday, February 24. It will be open to anyone facing food insecurity midday–2.30pm Tuesday–Friday. Images: Nikki To
If an early 20th-century Jewish immigrant found himself walking around in 2019, what would he think of the world? That question comes with a flipside, of course, because it's equally valid to wonder how today's folks would react in response. With Seth Rogen starring as a ditch-digging, rat-catching new arrival from Eastern Europe to Brooklyn, these are a couple of the queries pondered by An American Pickle. It's the latest in a long line of comedies that trifle with time while doubling as time capsules, and it falls firmly from a familiar mould. Some such flicks send teens to the past via Deloreans and phone booths, as seen in the Back to the Future and Bill & Ted franchises. Others focus on people from another era grappling with modern living, as the likes of Encino Man and Blast From the Past demonstrated. Yes, these concepts were particularly popular in the 80s and 90s — but no matter when they flicker across our screens, they do two things: serve up a snapshot of the attitudes and norms prevalent when they're made, and explore how current perspectives intersect with those gone by. That's true of An American Pickle, and overtly so, with seeing, examining and giggling at the contrast between century-old ways and contemporary ideas a considerable part of the film. Not only that, but this Simon Rich-penned adaptation of his own short story Sell Out does all of the above broadly and blatantly — pointing out that big, bushy beards have become hipster beacons, for example, and that much has progressed since the 1900s. Consequently, there's no avoiding just how slight An American Pickle is. Its protagonist might fall into a vat of brine, get sealed in, then emerge in a new millennium, but this movie isn't diving deep. Thankfully, mixed up with all the obvious jokes are two thoughtful performances, both by Rogen, that help the film interrogate the push and pull between the past and the present in a moving fashion. Rogen plays Herschel Greenbaum, a new arrival to US with his wife Sarah (Succession's Sarah Snook), after the pair leave their home of Schlupsk to escape Russian Cossacks and chase a better life. Rogen also steps into the shoes of app developer Ben Greenbaum, Herschel's great-grandson and only living descendant when he awakens in his preserved (and presumably extra salty) state. The two men are the same age, and look alike. That said, they sport differences beyond Herschel's facial hair and Ben's technological know-how. It's the usual generational divide, as instantly recognisable to everyone watching. The elder Greenbaum is devoted to his family and faith, and is horrified that his sole remaining relative doesn't appear as fussed about either, while Ben gets increasingly frustrated with his great-grandpa's know-it-all-approach, bluntness and incessant meddling. Rich gives the two men more reasons to argue, and for Ben to start plotting Herschel's downfall. An app that rates companies on their ethics, an artisanal pickle business that becomes a viral hit and a towering billboard for vodka all factor into their feud. So too does Ben's willingness to capitalise upon Herschel's inherent ignorance of 21st-century minutiae, and the proud and stubborn Herschel's insistence upon staying set in his ways. The details are almost superfluous and, as the narrative keeps picking low-hanging comic fruit, they feel that way in the movie as well. Herschel upends Ben's business plans with some unethical behaviour, and Ben tricks Herschel into spouting his dated and offensive opinions on social media, but there's never any doubt that it'll all eventually work out. As a result, even though An American Pickle delivers plenty of conflict, there's no real drama here — and no real investment in Herschel and Ben's spat. Instead, the movie deploys over-the-top clashes in the service of clearcut gags and satirical observations, and to drum up easy laughs. Well that, and a product placement-driven fondness for Soda Stream that's the one thing Herschel and Ben always agree on. But, despite how straightforward it all proves, the film still boasts heart, sweetness, and an understanding of how the past always leaves an imprint, the future needn't fastidiously be chained to tradition, and that everything old and all things new have a symbiotic relationship. Yes, watching Rogen battle with himself manages to convey those notions. Luckily, too, given that the latest feature from The FP's Brandon Trost is rather standard otherwise. Generally, everything about An American Pickle takes the expected option — including switching aspect ratios to distinguish between 1919 and 2019, and using varying colour palettes to differentiate between Eastern Europe and America — but that description doesn't fit Rogen. If you've seen him in everything from Freaks and Geeks and Knocked Up to the Bad Neighbours movies and Long Shot, you've probably started predicting how he plays his parts here. And yet Herschel and Ben feel grounded and textured in a way that little else in this flick does. Rogen offers up two convincingly melancholy visions of two men cartoonishly wrapped up in their own needs and ideas, and his dual performances are consistently anchored in relatable emotions instead of merely self-evident jokes. And, in an affable but also mostly forgettable film, he's the only aspect that doesn't feel like it's been pulled straight from a jar that's been sitting on the shelf for quite some time. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RC2dsAGvGy0 Top image: Hopper Stone. © 2020 Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. All Rights Reserved.
The Oxford Tavern is about to be stripped of its scantily clad reputation, with influential new owners Drink 'n' Dine planning to breathe some fresh (and fully clothed) air into the Petersham pub. The infamous inner-west drinking hole has been known for its topless barmaids, cheap booze and lunchtime strip shows since the 1970s, and its transformation is expected to help gentrify the area. Sydney's Drink 'n' Dine company, who have rejuvenated pubs like Surry Hills' The Forresters, The Norfolk and The Carrington, plan to to turn the risque dive bar into an American BBQ beer house. Drink 'n' Dine CEO Jamie Wirth told the Sydney Morning Herald they'll be mixing Aussie pub classics with an American BBQ menu. There’ll be craft beer on tap and a leafy beer garden replacing the current pokie lair. Wirth plans on keeping some of the Oxford Tavern’s exotic charm by reworking the existing interior, including the neon signs and stripper pole. The new venue will be taken over next month with doors set to open in November this year. Via Sydney Morning Herald. Image: The Norfolk.
It is well and truly holiday season and as things heat up (literally and figuratively), Black Star Pastry has come in with the ultimate way to elevate your Christmas gathering. Enter the brand-new White Strawberry Watermelon Cake — a limited-edition Christmas version of its famous Strawberry Watermelon Cake aka the "world's most Instagrammed cake". The cake is crowned with white strawberries — rare variants originally from Japan — known as 'hatsukoi no kaori' or 'scent of first love', which have limited availability in Australia. Also included: layers of fresh watermelon and almond dacquoise enveloped in a rose- and strawberry-scented cream, then topped with white strawberries, pink cream, hand-carved snowflakes and a dusting of sweet snow — the closest thing we'll get to a white Christmas Down Under. The four-portion White Strawberry Watermelon Cake, priced at $80, is currently available for preorder. You'll want to get in quick, as this baby is available in strictly limited numbers due to the elusive nature of the white strawberry. Once ordered, collection will be available on Saturday, December 23–Sunday, December 24. In its 2023 Christmas range, Black Star Pastry is also offering a Gingerbread Chiffon Cake ($70). This take on the classic chiffon includes a gingerbread-spiced base, molasses buttercream layers, a white chocolate and lemon drizzle, then mini ginger ninjas and handmade white and strawberry chocolate candy canes on top. It serves 12 portions, with pre-orders are available now — as is collection, which will end on Sunday, December 24. For those looking to grab a slice of the festive action, individual slices of the Gingerbread Chiffon Cake are available in Sydney's Rosebery and Chatswood stores, as well as Melbourne's St Kilda store. So, if you're in Sydney or Melbourne this holiday season, why not treat yourself? After all, what's Christmas without a little indulgence? Head to the Black Star Pastry website to order the White Strawberry Watermelon Cake and the Gingerbread Chiffon Cake before Sunday, December 24.
We all wish we'd said certain things at certain times. This play explores what happens when we don't: we short-change ourselves, professionally and personally. We short-circuit our long-term happiness and run the risk of forgetting what we wanted to say in the first place and why it mattered. The newest resident of the Foggadieu Retirement Village, Joe Bleakley has had a life of lost opportunities, both on stage and off stage. A "has-been" actor who was never successful enough to be recognised and hailed as a "will-be," Joe's unpublished memoirs are entitled How I Clawed and Struggled to the Middle. Like Shakespeare's King Lear, who he quotes, Joe has "ta'en too little care" of serious matters; now he is faced with his age, his invisibility, and a hard-hearted daughter. Life's not funny anymore, but Joe has never let the truth get in the way of a good show. He is putting on a one-man show for his fellow inmates; a show that will enable him to play all the great roles he never got to perform. Motivated by ego and his compulsion to draw attention to the difference between him and the "old folks," Joe has lovingly prepared a selection of great speeches, famous quotes and stirring soliloquies. All his life, Joe has played the showman, but the mask he has made for himself is a false and increasingly fragile one. He freely admits to being a failure both as an actor and as a father, but Joe's self-deprecation is defiant. His insistance that he fully understands the ironies and absurdities of human nature shows us how oblivious comedy can all too easily slide into tragic oblivion. Joe can't come to terms with his deepest regrets and reconcile his relationship with his daughter because as an actor he necessarily avoids — and, in his case, denies — his true feelings. Even now that the show is nearly over, he finds it virtually impossible to say what he means, never mind what he feels. The clear message of Wish I'd Said That again comes from King Lear: to speak what we feel, not what will please the crowd. To value dialogue, not monologue, and to say what needs to be said when it needs to be said.
The Annandale Hotel, the beloved Parramatta Road music venue, is bringing primary school back by pitching the boys against the girls in a showcase of some of Australia's most exciting male and female talent. With an epic lineup of six bands, and evoking lunchtime kisschasey games, Boys vs Girls is a night sure to provide you with your musical money's worth and a minimal amount of playground hair-pulling and name-calling. Headlining are one of Sydney's finest up and coming bands Ghostwood, who you should in all seriousness check out, because if things in the world are fair they deserve to get very big. The female half of the headline is represented by Laura Imbruglia's witty, folk-inspired tunes, and bringing up the rear are the jangly guitars of Young Revelry, the grungy pop of The Betty Airs, as well as Creepers and Bonney Read. The first fifty pre-sale tickets will receive a limited edition cassette single of Ghostwood's incredibly catchy single 'Sunset Mirage.' A friend of mine has been trying to get his hands on one of these for a couple of months now, so I'm guessing there has to be something pretty awesome about them, aside from the novelty of owning pieces of dead technology gradually being revived by hipsters and nerds.
Every now and then a movie comes out that proves surprisingly different from what its name or trailer led us to believe. Three Kings, from 1999, for example, looked like a B-grade action movie but actually turned out to be one of the more poignant anti-war movies of the past few decades. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, too, was a beautiful love story that most people assumed was simply another martial arts film. The Raid, by director Gareth Evans, is not one of those movies. It looks like an action movie, it sounds like an action movie, and holy crap does it deliver as an action movie. The title alone tells you absolutely everything you need to know about the plot: this is a film about a raid. It's a raid on a building. People are raided. Under no circumstances should you trick yourself into thinking it's actually referring to a spiritual or metaphoric raid by a disabled orphan upon a grumpy old man's heart (though somebody write that down). Instead, The Raid is a simple but fantastic movie for people with simple and fantastically violent tastes. The film takes place entirely within the confines of a dilapidated high-rise building in Jakarta's slums. An elite team of police officers are sent in after a crime boss living on the tower's top floor, but when their plans fall apart, they soon find themselves isolated, trapped inside and battling dozens of enraged henchmen. From that moment forth the action is utterly relentless, both narratively and physically, with violence at times so extreme the stuntmen probably asked for stuntmen. The dialogue is also pretty thin, even for an action movie, and it's a fair bet that of the 90 or so pages in The Raid's screenplay, 89 of them just said, "Aaaaaaaaargh!!!" Even so, Evans has put together a truly heart-pumping grindhouse feature here that will appeal to fans of action movies ranging from Die Hard to Ong Bak. The direction is slick and self-assured, the choreography simply mind-blowing and the action quite literally nonstop. Yippee ki-yay, mothers... https://youtube.com/watch?v=7KJ0N7ik3yI
A boy scampers through the woods, happy in his natural surroundings. He runs, jumps, climbs and scurries, far away from the human world, with a very unusual creature for a companion. Such tales keep popping up in cinemas this year, particularly as far as modern-day, CGI-enhanced remakes of decades-old family fare are concerned. If The Jungle Book wowed you with not only its impressive visuals, but also its tender heart, then prepare for Pete's Dragon to do the same. Just don't expect a scary presence in this gentle effort – regardless of what the title seems to promise. Instead, the eponymous critter, named Elliott by the orphaned Pete (Oakes Fegley), is more like friendly, flying family. For five years after a car accident that leaves the boy stranded in the forest, the pair are inseparable. But when loggers venture into their turf, Pete is spotted by local girl Natalie (Oona Laurence), and taken in by park ranger Grace (Bryce Dallas Howard). Neither Pete nor Elliott cope well with their separation, especially when the townsfolk, led by sawmill owner Gavin (Karl Urban), start trying to track the dragon down. Be it a dragon, a giant robot or an extraterrestrial hoping to phone home, there's a reason that movies about kids connecting with unlikely buddies keep capturing hearts and minds. As demonstrated here by bookend narration offered by Grace's father (Robert Redford), the childlike need to find a kindred spirit doesn't fade with age. With that idea firmly in writer-director David Lowery's mind, his take on Pete's Dragon has more in common, tone-wise, with E.T. and The Iron Giant than it does the 1977 musical film it's based on. His movie is big on sentiment, belief and awe — though it's purposefully small and straightforward in its story. With his regular producer turned co-scribe Toby Halbrooks, the filmmaker best known for the lyrical western Ain't Them Bodies Saints once again opts to evoke emotion and wonder above all else. Accordingly, as much as the earnest feature explores yearning desires, it's also simply about letting audiences experience a world in which a boy can pal around with a dragon that looks like a giant, green, winged puppy. That's an inherently magical concept, made all the more so by Elliott's ability to turn invisible. So it is that for 103 patient, precisely paced minutes, the film invites viewers to not only dare to see the dragon, but to believe that he's actually real. The charming Fegley certainly goes along for the ride, as do his adult costars. But the most crucial figure is the digitally rendered Elliott, who Lowery, his team of Weta animators, and cinematographer Bojan Bazelli bring to the screen with a glow that matches the movie's warm heart. Just be warned: if you're prone to being moved by such sweet stories, you'd best bring a whole heap of tissues.
Sydney's Museum of Contemporary Art is celebrating the 25th anniversary of Primavera, the gallery's annual exhibition dedicated to showcasing the work of Australian artists under the age of 35. Featuring pieces selected from the MCA collection, Primavera at 25 will be exhibiting both established and emerging artists working across a range of disciplines from painting, sculpture, video, performance, kinetic and installation art. Many of the works in the exhibition explore the concept of transformation: moving, twirling, shimmering and spinning to create new forms. Others examine the notion of time, with pieces keeping track of or recording time, and deliberating ageing and degrading right in front of your eyes. Many of these works draw on the idea of personal and shared memories. So if you're interested in reviewing the past and possible future of Australian contemporary art and are keen to discover young artists, make your way down to the MCA from December 19 to amble through the works of these talented creatives.
A familiar face on panel shows like Would I Lie To You? and Never Mind the Buzzcocks, Paul Foot is one of the most unique voices on the stand-up circuit today. His strange, ranty, stream-of-consciousness comedy has made him a favourite with festival audiences around the world. An Evening With Mr Paul Foot features highlights from some of his best shows in years gone by, making it a perfect primer for those unfamiliar with his work, and a must-see trip down memory lane for his fans.
Mad Max: Fury Road for kids. That’s how PAN ought to have been billed, but instead the studios went with “Every legend has a beginning”. Bit of a truism, but whatever. At least it sets us up with the expectation that PAN will give us the gritty, untold Peter Pan backstory, and — true to its word — on that point it does deliver. Curiously, though, it then leaves much of the remaining (and arguably more interesting) information untouched, rendering PAN more like the ‘beginning of the beginning of the legend’. So who is Peter? Well, in this latest version by director Joe Wright (Atonement), he’s an English orphan enduring the worst of the Nazis’ WWII blitz campaign over London. We learn his ninja-like mother lovingly deposited him at the orphanage as a baby, along with a pan flute necklace and a mysterious letter speaking of hopeful reunions in a far away land. Now as a 12-year-old (played by Aussie newcomer and definite star of the future Levi Miller), Peter discovers the letter but has scarcely a moment to process the information before he’s whisked away by pirates in the middle of the night and transported to Neverland, where his true story begins. The thing is, Neverland isn’t as we remember it. Here in Wright’s version, it’s a colossal mining pit populated by hundreds of thousands of orphan workers all searching for a rare mineral called Pixum — essentially the raw form of pixie dust. Their overseer is a deliciously evil and charismatic pirate named Blackbeard (Hugh Jackman), who we first meet amid a bizarre rendition of ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’. As he addresses his bedraggled slaves and enforcers from up high and promises them untold riches (or at the very least, confectionary), the comparisons to Fury Road’s Immortan Joe are hard to ignore, particularly when PAN then descends into something of an extended chase scene for the remainder of the film. Still, in this pit we meet all but one of the future figures who’ll feature prominently in the Peter Pan legend, most notably Smee (Adeel Akhtar) and Hook (Garrett Hedlund, turning in what represents a solid audition piece for the next Indiana Jones film, albeit with an accent borrowed straight from There Will Be Blood’s Daniel Plainview). Together, the trio escapes the pit into Neverland’s untamed jungle and goes in search of Pan’s mother with Blackbeard giving relentless pursuit. PAN is the very definition of ‘family-friendly movie’, what with its non-stop action pieces, colourful costumes and entirely palatable violence (when the friendly ‘savages’ are killed, they explode into puffs of brilliantly coloured powder, much like the ‘how it works’ section of a detergent commercial). The special effects are extensive but first-rate, remaining impressively clutter free in that you can always identify the focal point of any scene (compared to the epilepsy-inducing offerings of films like Transformers). Performance wise, the leads (including Rooney Mara as Tiger Lily) all do their best with what’s a regrettably threadbare script, and Jackman probably finds the most out of his character, switching back and forth between homicidal and nurturing so effortlessly that it’s unsettling. There are really only two major shortcomings in PAN, but combined they do a lot to detract from what could have been something truly special. Firstly, it’s all very dour for something that’s set in Neverland, a place where fun is not just a pastime but a mantra and an obligation. Secondly, for a backstory on the Pan legend, we not only end up with very little new information, but — if anything — more questions than before. Case in point: the relationship between Peter and Hook. PAN’s prologue explains “sometimes friends begin as enemies, and enemies begin as friends”, but by the film's finale we see the two characters as close as any two friends could be, even going so far as to laugh about anything to the contrary. How and why such allies become mortal enemies would have made for an excellent plot progression, and it’s hard not to think this was excluded for the presumptive 'prequel sequel’. Still, it’s a wonderful visual experience that’s sure to delight young and old alike.
Guillermo del Toro hasn't yet directed a version of Frankenstein, except that he now has in a way. Officially, he's chosen another much-adapted, widely beloved story — one usually considered less dark — but there's no missing the similarities between the Nightmare Alley and The Shape of Water filmmaker's stop-motion Pinocchio and Mary Shelley's ever-influential horror masterpiece. Both carve out tales about creations made by grief-stricken men consumed by loss. Both see those tinkerers help give life to things that don't usually have it, gifting existence to the inanimate because they can't cope with mortality's reality. Both notch up the fallout when those central humans struggles with the results of their handiwork, even though all that the beings that spring from their efforts want is pure and simple love and acceptance. Del Toro's take on Pinocchio still has a talking cricket, a blue-hued source of magic and songs, too, but it clearly and definitely isn't a Disney movie. Instead, Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio is an enchanting iteration of a story that everyone knows, and that's graced screens so many times that this is the third flick in 2022 alone. Yes, the director's name is officially in the film's title. Yes, it's likely there to stop the movie getting confused with that array of other page-to-screen adaptations, all springing from Carlo Collodi's 19th-century Italian children's novel The Adventures of Pinocchio. That said, even if the list of features about the timber puppet wasn't longer than said critter's nose when he's lying, del Toro would earn the possessory credit anyway. No matter which narrative he's unfurling — including this one about a boy fashioned out of pine (voiced by Gregory Mann, Victoria) by master woodcarver Geppetto (David Bradley, Catherine Called Birdy) after the death of his son — the Mexican Oscar-winner's distinctive fingerprints are always as welcomely apparent as his gothic-loving sensibilities. In del Toro's third release Down Under this year, following Nightmare Alley and horror anthology series Guillermo del Toro's Cabinet of Curiosities — something else that unswervingly deserved his name in the moniker — the Pinocchio basics are all accounted for. This isn't an ordinary edition of the story, though, or a wooden one (for that, see: the recent Mouse House live-action remake of its 1940 animated hit). Co-helming with feature first-timer Mark Gustafson, co-writing with Patrick McHale (Adventure Time), using character designs by author and illustrator Gris Grimly, and boasting The Jim Henson Company among its producers, this Pinocchio still takes liberties with the original plot, without being beholden to Disney as its guide. Two big leaps: using wartime Italy under Mussolini as the movie's setting, and reinterpreting what it truly means to be "a real boy". Also a visible departure: how Pinocchio himself looks, with his forest origins never sanded or polished away, or clothed over like a doll (or a flesh-and-blood child, for that matter). He cuts a rustic, thorny and whittled figure, complete with stick-thin legs, twisted nails protruding from his back, swinging joints and a branch-like nose with leaves snaking in all directions whenever he fails to tell the truth. No doubt aided by Gustafson's stop-motion background, including working as animation director on Wes Anderson's Fantastic Mr Fox, the end result looks so knotty, gnarled and textured that wanting to touch it is a natural reaction. Pinocchio's entire visuals do, as lensed by cinematographer Frank Passingham (Kubo and the Two Strings) — and as befitting a story that's inherently tactile anyway. (Being about a hand-carved puppet that comes alive will naturally do that.) Sebastian J Cricket narrates, putting Ewan McGregor's (Obi-Wan Kenobi) melodious voice to good use as the talkative insect, and starting the film's star-studded cast. He chats through Gepetto's bliss with Carlo (also voiced by Mann), the recklessly dropped World War One bomb that took the boy's life and the booze-fuelled desolation that festers during the woodcarver's decades of mourning. It's while drunk that the latter whips up Pinocchio, who is then visited by the Wood Sprite (Tilda Swinton, Three Thousand Years of Longing), and embraces the next morning walking, talking and being thoroughly mischievous. Alas, the puppet isn't quite embraced in return to begin with — with his shocked papa constantly comparing him to his lost boy, the village priest (Burn Gorman, The Offer) demanding he's sent to school and the local Podestà (Ron Perlman, Don't Look Up) seeing military uses, wanting to ship Pinocchio to war with his own son Candlewick (Finn Wolfhard, Stranger Things). Telling the curious, cheeky, chaotic and selfish timber tot what to do at all is a tricky task anyway, but he listens to one person: Count Volpe (Christoph Waltz, No Time to Die). The carnival master entices Pinocchio to his circus with help from his monkey sidekick Spazzatura (Cate Blanchett, Tár), promising treats and fun, but only really seeing lira and adoration for himself. Del Toro's choice of period gives not just this but the whole tale a grimmer spin, with never being afraid to confront history's horrors — and life's — even when getting fantastical always one of the director's great moves. As in The Devil's Backbone, Pan's Labyrinth and Hellboy, it works beautifully; Pinocchio is as tinged with personal and universal sorrow and violence as it is gleefully sprouting with eccentricities. (On the page, too, Collodi's creation has always been weirder and more wondrous than Disney gave it credit for, as the 2019 version by Gomorrah's Matteo Garrone also recognised.) Surreal, tinged with sadness, bittersweet, beautiful: that's the film that del Toro has chiseled. It's also caught between a stunning dream and a macabre nightmare, and oh-so-aware that life is only as remarkable and precious as it is because death casts a shadow over every moment for all of us. The usual moral flutters at its heart as well, like this movie's cricket inside Pinocchio's cavernous wooden chest, but the added darkness and pain gives the idea of becoming a genuine person through kindness, love and connection extra weight and depth. This iteration tinkers with the mechanics and meaning behind that 'real boy' quest, however, to utterly heartwarmingly results. In fact, the only less-than-glorious move del Toro makes in his Pinocchio-by-way-of-Frankenstein is keeping in songs — his movie is magical enough without them. Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio screens in cinemas from Thursday, November 24, then streams via Netflix from Friday, December 9.
On the first Tuesday in November back in 2015, history was made. When Michelle Payne rode Prince of Penzance to victory at the Melbourne Cup, she became the first female jockey to win the race that stops the nation since it was first held back in 1861. That she beat 100-to-one odds made the story even sweeter. Payne's post-race statement, telling the world to "get stuffed if they think women aren't strong enough", rightfully became an empowering soundbite as well. Among not only track-goers and punters, but also folks who couldn't care less for the sport, hers instantly became a household name. Payne's win was a universal feel-good moment — a rare feat at an event and in an industry that are both saddled with multiple controversies. She didn't just fulfil her own wildest dreams, of course, with her victory having an aspirational effect. In addition to sending an uplifting message to girls, reminding them that they can do anything, the trailblazing achievement captured the broader public imagination. And, as usually happens whenever that's the case, cameras started rolling in response. While a schmaltzy Hollywood flick wouldn't have felt out of place, it was the wheels of the Australian cinema that started moving — helped by funding from several racing-affiliated bodies, plus a gambling agency. Whether made for television or playing in cinemas, a movie about Payne's success was always going to happen. Alas, while Ride Like a Girl is now racing across the big screen, it'd also suit a smaller canvas. The directorial debut of actor-turned-filmmaker Rachel Griffiths, it spins a well-known true tale in an overly familiar and straightforward fashion, including visually. Its aim: to simply warm hearts and spark cheers as it champions its real-life inspiration. If you've seen one rousing underdog movie, however — the kind where characters overcome rocky beginnings, suffer and toil, then follow their passions in a difficult field — then you've basically already seen this. Screenwriters Andrew Knight (Ali's Wedding) and Elise McCredie (Jack Irish) couldn't have come up with a more film-friendly story, not only spanning Payne's big moment but her background. Her family name was synonymous with horse racing long before she won the Melbourne Cup, with her father Paddy a veteran trainer, and eight of her nine older siblings all also working in the industry. But, despite her burning desire to race and her formidable work ethic, she was continually told that she'd never claim the sport's most glittering prize — or get the opportunity to try. Convincing her dad to support her dream was hard enough, let alone earning a decent run on the track or being treated fairly by her male colleagues. The fact she lost her mother as baby, the death of her sister during a race and her own bout of serious injuries all complicated matters, too. As nice as it might be to live a life that resembles a fantasy — or, not to downplay Payne's struggles, to navigate the kind of upward path that's usually the domain of crowd-pleasing fiction — where biopics are involved, it can make for flat viewing. Detail, texture and chaos all help a story resonate, as do intimate moments that feel inescapably specific to the real events at hand. Unsurprisingly, a broad overview doesn't have the same impact, especially one that seems as if it could apply to any number of similar tales. That's among Ride Like a Girl's chief troubles. Even when it serves up tidbits that could've only come from Payne's life, it takes such a light and breezy touch that it all still comes across as simplistic and routine. Indeed, if this was a book, it wouldn't be the mass of pages filled with meaty minutiae — it'd be the generic synopsis, designed to sweep readers in, on the back cover. Payne's feat will always echo throughout history, and so will the fortitude it took to get there, but Ride Like a Girl doesn't quite do her justice. That's not a criticism of Teresa Palmer, though, who puts in a performance not quite on par with her excellent work in Berlin Syndrome, but one filled with depths that the script doesn't match. As Payne's dad, a suitably stoic Sam Neill falls in step with with movie rather than his co-star; however the jockey's real-life brother Stevie, who plays himself, is an engaging delight. His casting feels real, a sensation that's missing from Ride Like a Girl elsewhere — for an inspiring true tale, it generally just feels manufactured. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gLn7UOw-tF8
Something delightful is happening in cinemas across the country. After months spent empty, with projectors silent, theatres bare and the smell of popcorn fading, Australian picture palaces are back in business — spanning both big chains and smaller independent sites in Sydney and Brisbane. During COVID-19 lockdowns, no one was short on things to watch, of course. In fact, you probably feel like you've streamed every movie ever made over the past three months, including new releases, comedies, music documentaries, Studio Ghibli's animated fare and Nicolas Cage-starring flicks. But, even if you've spent all your time of late glued to your small screen, we're betting you just can't wait to sit in a darkened room and soak up the splendour of the bigger version. Thankfully, plenty of new films are hitting cinemas so that you can do just that — and we've rounded up, watched and reviewed everything on offer this week. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aSfX-nrg-lI MANK In 2010's The Social Network, David Fincher surveyed the story of an outsider and upstart who would become a business magnate, wield significant influence and have an immense impact upon the world. The applauded and astute film tells the tale of Mark Zuckerberg and of Facebook's development — but it's also the perfect precursor to Fincher's latest movie, Mank. This time around, the filmmaker focuses on a man who once spun a similar narrative. A drama critic turned screenwriter, Herman J Mankiewicz scored the gig of his lifetime when he was hired to pen Orson Welles' first feature, and he drew upon someone from his own life to do so. Citizen Kane is famous for many things, but its central character of Charles Foster Kane is also famously partially based on US media mogul William Randolph Hearst, who Mankiewicz knew personally. Accordingly, Mank sees Fincher step behind the scenes of an iconic movie that his own work has already paralleled — to ponder how fact influences fiction, how stories that blaze across screens silver and small respond to the world around them, and how one man's best-known achievement speaks volumes about both in a plethora of ways. Mank is a slice-of-life biopic about Mankiewicz's (Gary Oldman) time writing Citizen Kane's screenplay, as well as his career around it. It's catnip for the iconic feature's multitudes of fans, in fact. But it also peers at a bigger picture, because that's classic Fincher. When the film introduces its eponymous scribe, it's 1940, and he's recovering from a car accident. In a cast and confined to bed due to a broken leg, he has been dispatched to a Mojave Desert ranch by Welles (Tom Burke, The Souvenir) and his colleague John Houseman (Sam Troughton, Chernobyl), all so he can work his word-slinging mastery. As Mankiewicz toils, the movie wanders back to times, places and people that inspire his prose, especially from the decade prior. Dictating his text to British secretary Rita Alexander (Lily Collins), he draws upon his friendships with Hearst (Charles Dance, Game of Thrones) and the news baron's starlet mistress Marion Davies (Amanda Seyfried) in particular. And yes, as anyone who has seen Citizen Kane will spot, Mank's nonlinear structure apes the script that Mankiewicz pens. Many of the latter film's glimmering black-and-white shots do as well, although you won't spot a sled called Rosebud here. In a script by Jack Fincher — father of David, who wrote the screenplay in the 90s before passing away in 2003 — Mank suggests other factors that made Mankiewicz the person he was, and that shaped Citizen Kane's script as well. Combine all of the above, and a dense and detailed movie results. That's Fincher's wheelhouse, after all. Mank is also visually ravishing and textured, and tonally cutting and icy — which, along with weighty performances, are all Fincher hallmarks. But there's both depth and distance to Mank. It peers in and pokes about, but it never wholly lures the audience in. Watching Oldman and Seyfried's rich scenes together, viewers will wish it did, though. Read our full review. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ETK0fOKwJNQ MONSOON Home may mean different things to different people but, in Monsoon, Vietnam doesn't mean home to Kit (Henry Golding). He was born there, in the aftermath of the war. He spent his earliest years in the Asian nation, with his parents caught up in the aftermath of the conflict. But when he was still a child, his family left for a refugee camp in Hong Kong and then moved permanently to London. Now, as an adult who has lived the bulk of his existence far away, he returns for the first time to bring back his mother's and father's ashes. He's instantly thrown off balance upon his arrival, whether he's driving through moped-filled streets or walking around crowded markets. Little of what he remembers is the same — his old house and his neighbourhood stomping grounds, particularly — and he doesn't recall as much as his childhood best friend Lee (David Tran), who stayed behind, would clearly like. Of what he does recollect, some crucial details clash with Lee's versions, too. Consequently, as Kit roves around Saigon and then Hanoi (his place of birth and his parents' original home, respectively), he's searching for a connection. He'll make one, but not in the way he expects. Monsoon tells a noticeably slight tale, but Cambodian-born Chinese British writer/director Hong Khaou (Lilting) is keenly and overwhelmingly aware that a sense of belonging doesn't simply come with one's birth certificate. He's also a minimalistic filmmaker, in a sense. He delves into straightforward scenarios, and knows that he needn't layer them with too many external complicating factors. In other words, he's cognisant that merely examining how a person copes — even in a very commonplace situation — can deliver several lifetimes worth of complexity without a wealth of other narrative roadblocks or setbacks. As a result, both Khaou and Monsoon ask a significant amount of Golding; they demand more than his previous charisma-driven roles in Crazy Rich Asians, A Simple Favour and Last Christmas have combined, actually. Viewers of those three films already know that he can radiate charm like few other actors currently appearing on-screen, but Monsoon requires Golding's soulful best. At every moment, he's tasked with conveying the potent thoughts and jumbled emotions swelling inside Kit, and with doing so largely without dialogue. It's a quietly powerful performance, and it's one that the movie steadfastly needs. It's one that Monsoon depends upon, kin fact. Thanks in no small part to his efforts, Monsoon feels comfortable and intimate and eye-opening and new all at once — and proves immensely affecting viewing. Read our full review. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xq1F1opr_FE&t=2s ELLIE AND ABBIE (AND ELLIE'S DEAD AUNT) As a teen rom-com about two high schoolers working through their attraction for each other as they're also trying to work out what to do with their lives and how to simply be themselves, there's a strong sense of familiarity about Ellie and Abbie (and Ellie's Dead Aunt). That isn't a sign of laziness, however, because first-time feature writer/director Monica Zanetti wants you to register how much her film resembles other entries in its genre — and to notice what it's doing differently. There's a purposeful sense of clumsiness about the Sydney-set movie, too. Again, that's by design. Studious school captain Ellie (Sophie Hawkshaw, Love Child) has a simmering crush on the far cooler, calmer and more collected Abbie (Zoe Terakes, Janet King), but is struggling to stump up the courage to ask her to the school formal. When the pair do slowly start becoming closer, Ellie doesn't know exactly what to do, or what's expected, or how to be the person she wants to be in her first relationship. Complicating matters is the distance she feels from her mother, Erica (Marta Dusseldorp, Stateless), as she navigates such new emotional terrain — oh, and the fact that, as the title gives away, Ellie's dead aunt Tara (Julia Billington) suddenly starts hovering around and dispensing advice about following her feelings. So far, so sweet. Of course, unfurling a queer romance within such well-worn confines shouldn't be such a remarkable act (and an Australian teen queer romance at that), but it still currently is. Ellie and Abbie (and Ellie's Dead Aunt) isn't just entertaining and understanding, cute and creative with its teen romance, and proudly celebratory of LGBTQIA+ perspectives, though. It's all those things, but Zanetti's decision to open the door to a deeper contemplation of Australia's historical treatment of the queer community gives considerable depth and weight to a movie that mightn't have earned those terms otherwise. The brightly shot feature has a strong sense of place, but without including all of the usual landmark shots that make many features feel like tourism campaigns. More importantly, it has a clear understanding of what LGBTQIA+ Sydneysiders have weathered in past decades. That activism is layered throughout the film in an overt subplot and, while it's hardly treated with nuance (an observation that applies to much of the picture), it's a powerful inclusion. Simply by reaching local cinema screens, Ellie and Abbie (and Ellie's Dead Aunt) makes a statement, but it also pays tribute to all the statements made in big and bold ways — and with tragic and painful outcomes, too — to get to this point in Australian queer history. Read our full review. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-rIcXgMx7hU PINOCCHIO It has been 80 years since Disney's Pinocchio unleashed a wooden puppet and the woodcarver who made him upon animation-loving audiences, adapting Carlo Collodi's 1883 Italian children's novel The Adventures of Pinocchio in the process. And, over that period, that film has remained the version of record. Indeed, it's the reason that generations of viewers are familiar with the story. Matteo Garrone's (Gomorrah) new live-action movie of the same name earns a place alongside it, however. It's one of three new and upcoming features tackling the narrative, ahead of a stop-motion flick co-directed by The Shape of Water's Guillermo del Toro that's due to hit Netflix next year and Disney's own flesh-and-blood iteration that's slated to be helmed by The Witches' Robert Zemeckis — and it serves up a tender and sumptuous take on the fairytale. In relaying how the kindly Geppetto (Life Is Beautiful Oscar-winner Roberto Benigni) shaped a lively log into a boy-sized puppet (Federico Ielapi), who then decides to see the world and strive to become a real child, it also hews far closer to the source material than its animated predecessor. This is a movie clearly made with an abundance of affection for its inspiration, too, and that love and devotion shines through in every frame. In fact, the feature's visuals prove its strongest element, including in bringing Pinocchio to life. He's a detailed marvel who appears oh-so realistic and yet also looks uncanny as well, as intended, and the decision to use a child actor wearing prosthetics rather than relying heavily upon CGI works a charm. The world that Garrone spins around the eponymous puppet is similarly rich and fantastical — and whimsical, although the latter is overdone. Pinocchio is far more resonant when it's letting its central figure discover that being human involves weathering all the cruelties that the earth's population has in store for each other, and watching him learn that Geppetto's unconditional fondness and acceptance is sadly rare. It's much less involving when it's leaning overtly into quirkiness, although that should probably be expected with Benigni involved. Where eccentricity is concerned, this tale already has plenty baked in, as the Fox (Massimo Ceccherini), the Cat (Rocco Papaleo) and the Fairy with Turquoise Hair (Marine Vacth, If You Saw His Heart) all make plain. But even if the whole movie is a little overstated, Garrone has still made a beautiful movie — and one that feels like the natural next step after 2015's Tale of Tales and even 2018's Dogman. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxWfz5hRt94 MORGANA Many a big-screen drama has stepped through the plight of a middle-aged woman unhappy with the state of her life, constrained by the path she's been forced to take, and uncertain about her next steps or committed to do whatever it takes to leave the existence she hates behind. Indeed, it's a list too long to detail; however, the entire history of fiction on celluloid couldn't conjure up anything as distinctive, empowering and intriguing as Morgana Muses' tale — or the wealth of literary narratives about the same idea, either. After charting the course expected of her when she grew up, she found herself not just unhappily married, but despondent in her domestic trappings. Accordingly, the Albury housewife decided to leave her husband and the small town she called home, initially in a tragic fashion. But, as perceptive Australian documentary Morgana shows, Muses thankfully only achieved the first two parts of that equation in her quest to regain control and agency over her choices. From there, she decided to step into the world of feminist pornography, resulting in an acclaimed career that has earned her accolades, applause and attention from Melbourne to Berlin and back again (and, obviously, that has resulted in her journey being immortalised in this movie). It's no wonder that filmmakers Isabel Peppard and Josie Hess were eager to document Muses' story and share it with the world, because it's quite the tale. This isn't likely to be the last film made about Muses, actually, because she instantly screams for several documentaries dedicated to her exploits — and will likely one day inspire a fictionalised drama as well. There's much to unpack, including Muses' resolute determination to bravely put herself first, express her own desires, and create both sex-positive and age-positive erotica. Every one of those decisions isn't just revelatory, but also proves revolutionary in their own way. Candid and complex, Muses is the type of subject that all filmmakers wish they could stumble across, as Peppard and Hess continually show in their engaging film. Morgana isn't just a celebration, though, because even Muses' new life has had its ups, downs, highs and lows — all of which are captured with help from the documentary's willing point of focus, with the help of both talking-head interviews and fly-on-the-wall-style footage, and with glimpses of the work that's transformed Muses' existence. https://vimeo.com/469681168 LOVE OPERA Australia's performing arts scene has been shuttered for much of 2020 due to the COVID-19 pandemic. But documentary Love Opera lets viewers peer behind the scenes of a production that hit the stage long before anyone had ever heard of the novel coronavirus that changed life as we know it this year — and to spend time with the talented folks who toiled to make the show in question happen, too. The opera: Carmen. The bodies responsible: the Lisa Gasteen National Opera Program (LGNOP) and the Queensland Symphony Orchestra. The year: 2017. Established by internationally renowned Australian soprano Lisa Gasteen, the intensive program trains Australian and New Zealand opera singers, and has put on a semi-staged production at the end of each year since 2017. Accordingly, Love Opera follows LGNOP's first attempt to do just that, from the casting through until the final product. Gasteen features prominently, understandably, chatting not just about the show at hand and the process of bringing it to fruition, but also running through her career, its ups and downs, the reality of getting to the top of the industry and her decisions for embarking upon her current path. Also lending the film their thoughts, feelings and observations are the program's cofounder Nancy Underhill, plus conductors Alondra de la Parra and Simone Young, as well as singers such as Rachel Pines and Morgan England-Jones. There's much to cover, as filmmaker Liselle Mei recognises, with the film quickly flitting through a wealth of material — and touching upon a plethora of topics in the process. The physicality required to be an opera singer, the passion that drives it, the difficulty of being a younger talent when many roles are written for older characters, the way the art form has been changing over the years, the treatment of queer creatives: all of this earns the documentary's attention, and each could've received more screen time if there wasn't so much to cover. But Love Opera never feels slight on any area of interest. It doesn't break the behind-the-scenes doco mould, either, but it delivers a broad rather than shallow snapshot of everything required to make the LGNOP's version of Carmen happen. Brisbanites will notice all of the drone shots of the movie's setting, which can border on intrusive; however, both opera lovers and newcomers alike receive an insightful glimpse at the ins and outs of the medium, its homegrown stars both established and emerging, and the hard work behind crooning its tunes in such a resonant fashion. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sS9AYlUfp0A FATMAN When a film or TV show fills one of its roles in a gimmicky way that's obviously designed to garner publicity, it's called stunt casting. The term wholeheartedly applies to Fatman, a flimsy action-comedy that features Mel Gibson as Santa (and delivers his second big-screen release of 2020 after the abysmal Force of Nature). Even just reading about the premise, you can probably see the light bulbs going off in casting executives and other filmmaking powers-that-be's heads when they came up with the idea — because enlisting the American-born, Australian-raised actor as the symbol of all things wholesome and jolly sits in stark contrast to the far-from-jovial string of controversies that have popped up in his personal life, especially over the past decade. But a movie needs more than a blatant stunt to actually serve up something worth watching. And as far as shameless attempts to grab attention go, getting Gibson to play the red-suited figure just proves ill-advised and uncomfortable rather than provocative. Writer/directors Eshom Nelms and Ian Nelms (Small Town Crime) must feel otherwise, though, because there's very little else to this festive-themed movie. 'Tis the season for dull and muddled movies that aren't anywhere near as edgy as its makers think, and aren't funny or entertaining at all, it seems. Three male characters drive Fatman's narrative, starting with Chris Cringle (Gibson), who oversees a Canadian workshop that's forced to take a military contract to get by. Kids just aren't behaving themselves enough these days, so he's delivering more lumps of coal than presents — and the stipend he receives from the US government to cover the elf-made gifts has decreased as a result. One of those bratty children, 12-year-old rich kid Billy Wenan (Chance Hurstfield, Good Boys), decides he isn't happy with his haul one Christmas. His solution: enlisting an assassin to bump off Santa as payback. Said hitman, who is just called Skinny Man (Walton Goggins), has been harbouring a lifelong grudge against the titular character anyway and doesn't take much convincing. Ant-Man and the Wasp and Them That Follow star Goggins is the best thing about a movie that has very little going for it, which speaks volumes about the one-note plot points. But given the distinct lack of jokes, the clumsy attempts to satirise today's supposedly uncaring times and the routine feel that infuses even its frenzied scenes of violence, he can't turn the film into a gift for anyone. Fatman wants to be an action-packed take on a Bad Santa-esque comedy, but ends up faring even worse than that beloved movie's awful sequel Bad Santa 2. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tdce40rfRbk ALL MY LIFE No one with cancer would wish for their experience with the horrific disease to be turned into a schmaltzy movie about how hard their illness was for their partner. Based on the true story of digital marketer-turned-chef Solomon Chau and his psychology masters student girlfriend and later wife Jennifer Carter, that's what All My Life serves up — and while it feigns to focus on both of them, this overt attempt at tugging on viewers' heartstrings makes it clear that it's really about the latter. The title refers to Jenn (Jessica Rothe, Happy Death Day) and the 'make every moment count' wisdom she discovers watching Sol (Harry Shum Jr, Crazy Rich Asians) battle liver cancer. Over and over again, especially in tough and devastating situations, the film's visuals focus on her rather than him, too. It cuts away from him when he's explaining how difficult it all is, to follow her anger about their changed wedding plans instead. It literally foregrounds her in a shot when he's just received a big blow, and is understandably failing to cope. And it gives her time to scream in anguish in her car after yet more unpleasant news comes his way, in case viewers weren't certain who the movie thinks is the real victim. All My Life may be shot in the soft and sunny hues of a trite Nicholas Sparks-penned romance — and clearly aspire to sit in their company — but it's insidious in the way it uses one real-life person's sickness to make its preferred protagonist seem more interesting. It's a gender-flipped, illness-driven variation on the dead wife trope, as seen in the likes of Inception and Shutter Island, where the male lead is given a sob story to make his tale more dramatic. It's firmly in line with the way that cinema routinely sidelines those dealing with cancer over those standing by their sides, as seen far too often (when a movie about cancer or featuring a cancer-stricken character doesn't stick to the template, such as Babyteeth earlier this year, it stands out). The narrative details that All My Life chronicles may stem from reality, but they're ground down to a formula: girl meets boy, sparks fly, their future sprawls out before them, then cancer gets in the way and she can't have her dream nuptials. There's also never any doubt that this movie wouldn't exist if the GoFundMe campaign set up for Sol and Jenn's initially postponed wedding didn't garner significant media attention, as if some level of fame makes one cancer story more important than the rest. But it's the choice of focus that transforms this film from an expectedly cliched addition to the weepie genre and into overt slush. Director Marc Meyers' My Friend Dahmer also struggled with a similar approach, also choosing to spin a story around someone other than the obvious point of interest — and the fact that Shum puts in All My Life's best performance makes the tactic all the more galling and grating here. If you're wondering what else is currently screening in cinemas — or has been lately — check out our rundown of new films released in Australia on July 2, July 9, July 16, July 23 and July 30; August 6, August 13, August 20 and August 27; September 3, September 10, September 17 and September 24; October 1, October 8, October 15, October 22 and October 29; and November 5 and November 12. You can also read our full reviews of a heap of recent movies, such as The Personal History of David Copperfield, Waves, The King of Staten Island, Babyteeth, Deerskin, Peninsula, Tenet, Les Misérables, The New Mutants, Bill & Ted Face the Music, The Translators, An American Pickle, The High Note, On the Rocks, The Trial of the Chicago 7, Antebellum, Miss Juneteenth, Savage, I Am Greta, Rebecca, Kajillionaire, Baby Done, Corpus Christi, Never Rarely Sometimes Always, The Craft: Legacy, Radioactive, Brazen Hussies and Freaky. Top image: Mank, Nikolai Loveikis/Netflix; Monsoon, Dat Vu.
Alright chinas, we need to have a rabbit and pork about Guy Ritchie's new $175 million rattle and clank buster: Kin Arfur: Jackanory of the Drum and Fife – an altogether pony and trap reimagining of the classic weep and wail that's light on the brass tacks, sore on the mince pies and pretty much tom tit. If you struggled to understand that, consider it our version of the "you must be this tall to get on the ride" sign for Guy Ritchie's calamitous take on the famous Arthurian tale. As with every Ritchie flick (see: Snatch, RocknRolla and Sherlock Holmes, among others), cockney banter flies thick and fast between Arthur's merry band of streetwise vagabonds, all of whom sport names like Goose-fat Bill, Wet Stick, Back Lack and Chinese George. Unlike Ritchie's previous outings, however, there's little wit or charm to back up the slang. Instead, we're given in King Arthur: Legend of the Sword a CGI-heavy romp that moves at such a frantic and disjointed pace that simply keeping up with the story feels like a greater test of character and strength than actually pulling Excalibur from the stone. Worse still, there's nothing new about any of it. Between the giant elephants (Return of the King), the 'bullet-time' slow motion (The Matrix) and an enormous killer snake (Harry Potter), it's all far too much like a video game we've played many times before and know exactly how to beat. There are, at least, a few notable highlights. Charlie Hunnam and Jude Law both put in commendable performances as Arthur and his evil uncle Vortigern, with Law in particular ensnaring the eye for every second he's on screen. Villainy suits the actor, whose charm and cheekiness take on a decidedly darker turn when given the right material with which to play. There's also a neat little twist on the sword/stone component itself, which – at least for a time – raises King Arthur: Legend of the Sword to a level worthy of its storied subject matter. Unfortunately, there's far too much style and not nearly enough substance to hold the film's loose narrative threads together. Snap cuts and fancy editing helped put Guy Ritchie on the map, but in King Arthur: Legend of the Sword there's no duck and diving the fact that it's all gone proper pete and tong. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jIM4-HLtUM0
Summer's coming to our fine city — Sydney Festival is back in 2017 with a characteristically eclectic program. One day ahead of the full program announcement, the Western Sydney program has been released, starting with a sprawling Circus City precinct. What's Circus City you ask? Four huge shows (running over ten days), 34 workshops, 55 free events (including talks, films and exhibitions) and a casual flying trapeze all happening in and around Prince Alfred Square. Some of the world's best circus troupes are converging to perform epic feature shows in The Spaghetti Circus Big Top and Riverside Theatres. Canada's Cirque Elioze will perform (complemented by a video projection show) their urban dance show iD. The UK's Ockham's Razor will perform their acrobatic show (on five-metre long metal poles) Tipping Point high above the audience. Brisbane's Circa will perform their dance/theatre show HUMANS. And Company 2 will perform their fascinating show Kaleidoscope, which is about and starring a young performer, Ethan Hugh, who lives with Asperger's Syndrome. But it's not all fun and games. At Campbelltown Arts Centre, you'll find the very first posthumous exhibition by Myuran Sukumaran, Another Day In Paradise, a collection of over 100 works painted while incarcerated in both Bali's Kerobokan jail and before his execution at Nusa Kambangan in 2015. The show has been curated by close friend and mentor Ben Quilty. Not content with a regular theatre space this Sydney Festival? Head along to El-Phoenician restaurant in Parramatta for Hakawati to feast on ancient Middle-Eastern traditions of story-telling and breaking bread with the National Theatre of Parramatta. Or pop over to a multi-level carpark in Blacktown for Home Country, Urban Theatre Projects' world premiere show taking you on a journey through place and identity. Want to learn another language? Sign up for a free Indigenous language class taught by Darug women Aunty Jaacinta Tobin and Gadigal man Joel Davidson. That's just the tip of the iceberg for Sydney Festival in Western Sydney, not to mention the whole program, which drops Wednesday, October 25 at midday. Sydney Festival runs from January 7 to 29, 2017. Check the website for more info.
How do you remember your childhood? For Abdul-Rahman Abdullah, making sense of his Muslim Australian upbringing has come through the medium of art. In the Name, showing for three weeks at the Alaska Projects space, explores life, death and dinner. Taking a walk down memory lane, Abdullah's installations offer a raw insight into suburban animal slaughter brought about from a lack of halal meat in typical Australian supermarkets. This West Australian artist tackles tough issues of identity and social difference with a refreshing touch. Straddling two cultural worlds, his work draws audiences into memories of youth tinged with bewilderment, curiosity and confusion. With art on display at the Islamic Museum of Australia, Artbank, Campbelltown Art Centre and a string of national awards under his belt, Abdullah is making a serious mark. Head along to the opening night on April 8 from 6pm to see this thought-provoking collection for yourself.
If you were after any confirmation of Bruce Munro's talents, you need only look at the roaring success of his spectacular Red Centre installation, Field of Light. Experienced by more than 450,000 visitors during its first three years lighting up Uluru, the large-scale work's stay was extended twice, before it was confirmed it would be sticking around indefinitely. Now, the internationally acclaimed visual artist is bringing some of that luminous magic down south, by way of two new site-specific outdoor art installations set to grace the banks of the Murray River. Comprising one work on the Victorian side of the border and another in New South Wales, Light/State is a multimillion-dollar, two-part project that's anticipated to have visitors flocking in their hundreds of thousands. First up will be the Victorian phase of the production, known as Trail of Light. Making its home on the western banks of Lake Cullulleraine, this one takes the form of an immersive walking trail, guiding audiences through a stunning landscape featuring 12,550 glowing 'fireflies'. Work has already begun on the installation, which will feature a total of more than 301,200 flickering points of light once it's completed in late 2023. Across the river, the town of Wentworth will play host to sibling work, Munro's Fibre Optic Symphony Orchestra. Set to clock in at around 220 metres wide, the installation is made up of 108 fibre optic light columns, each arranged around a classic Hill's Hoist clothesline. The colour-changing lights will pulse and glow in time to the accompanying soundscape, translating music into a rainbow of hues. The work is slated for completion in mid 2024. Bruce Munro has created more than 45 large-scale installations worldwide, often pulling inspiration from the shared human experience and responding to the natural landscape. [caption id="attachment_744632" align="alignnone" width="1920"] 'Field of Light', by Mark Pickthall[/caption] Bruce Munro's 'Light/State' will comprise two parts — 'Trail of Light' is set to open at Lake Cullulleraine from late 2023, while 'Fibre Optic Symphony Orchestra' will launch in Wentworth in mid 2024. Top image: 'Field of Light', Tourism Central Australia
Trust a mockumentary about the undead to keep coming back in new guises. Taika Waititi and Jemaine Clement's What We Do in the Shadows first came to light as a short film in 2005, then made its way to cinemas in rib-tickling feature-length form in 2014, and currently has both a werewolf-focused sequel and a US television remake in the works. As first announced back in 2016, it's also getting a Cops-style TV spinoff named Wellington Paranormal — and SBS has just announced that it will air on Australian TV later this month. The first two episodes of the much-anticipated series will air on SBS Viceland (and be available on SBS On Demand) on Tuesday, July 31, with episodes airing weekly after that. We don't even have to wait too much longer than New Zealand audiences, either — it will air on TVNZ tonight. If you haven't watched the trailer, here's a little background info. Wellington Paranormal doesn't spend more time with everyone's favourite Wellington-dwelling bloodsuckers, even though Waititi and Clement conceived the six-part series. Instead, it follows police officers Karen O'Leary and Mike Minogue, who WWDITS fans might remember came knocking at the vampire share house's door. With the help of Sergeant Maaka (Maaka Pohatu), the cop duo will keep trying to keep the city safe from supernatural happenings — and we're sure viewers will keep watching. When Wellington Paranormal's existence was first revealed, Waititi described the show as "Mulder & Scully but in a country where nothing happens" on Twitter, should you need any more reason to get excited. https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=2&v=WRO2QfESbEI
While a leisurely night of making your way through a feast of pasta and wine is an absolute treat, who doesn't love a quick, affordable bite? After nailing the former for the past decade with his restaurant group Totti's and the beloved Pinbone before that, chef Mike Eggert is turning his attention to the latter with his new CBD restaurant Oti'. Set to open on Wednesday, May 10 in the former Lorraine's Patisserie shop just off George Street, Oti' will specialise in two beloved staples of the quick, no-fuss culinary experience — pizza by the slice and sandwiches. Sambos will start from $15, while pizza will be available from $12 a slice. It will also be the latest addition to the CBD's late-night feed options, keeping the kitchen firing until midnight Thursday–Saturday each week. This corner of the Ivy Precinct will operate as a weekend hub for after-hours eats, with the recently revamped Jimmy's Falafel just a few doors down from Oti'. The menu will be ever-changing but what you can expect is plenty of classic Italian ingredients loaded between slices of schiacciata or piled on top of the thick, fluffy Roman-style pizza basses. Prosciutto, salami, mortadella, olives, capers and plenty of vegetarian-friendly fillings will be making appearances, as well as eight different kinds of cheese including Totti's signature burrata. "When Lorraine [Godsmark of Lorraine's Patisserie] retired I was given the enviable position of coming up with a new concept for the space. This concept of a pizza-by-the-slice and Italian sandwich shop is a passion project that Justin [Hemmes] and I had been talking about for years, so it's surreal that we're finally doing it," says Eggert. "We love the vibe of Jimmy's Falafel and how people line up down George Street for the takeaway offering, so we hope to have a similar success with Oti'." To celebrate the opening, all pizza slices and sandwiches will be half price all day on the opening day. From then on, you can check the Oti' Instagram page for the daily specials. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Oti' (@oti.slice) Oti' will open at Shop 5, Palings Lane, Sydney on Wednesday, May 10. It'll be open 11am–8pm Sunday–Wednesday and 11am–midnight Thursday–Saturday.
UPDATED, Friday, March 15, 2024: Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour (Taylor's Version) is available to stream via Disney+. Just like a great music documentary, an excellent concert film isn't solely about existing fans. That's still true when a movie arrives in a sea of friendship bracelets, focuses on one of the biggest current singers in the world, and perhaps the largest and most devoted fandom there is can be seen screaming, dancing and crying joyfully in its frames in a 70,000-plus drove. As the shows that it lenses were, Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour was a financial success before any Swifties experienced their version of heaven. Swift's onstage journey through 17 years of tunes sparked ticketing mayhem both as a concert and a cinema release that captures close to every moment. The Eras tour is a billion-dollar entity, with the self-produced film that's spreading it further than packed stadiums a box-office bonanza since it was announced. The 169-minute-long movie is also a dazzling spectacle that neither dedicated Swifties nor casual viewers will be able to easily shake off. When Swift told the world that she never misses a beat and she's lightning on her feet in possibly her best-known pop song, everyone should've believed her. Long before 2014 earworm 'Shake It Off' gets a spin in the 1989 segment of The Eras Tour, she's proven those words true in an indefatigable onstage effort. "Can't stop, won't stop moving" describes her efforts and the film, which is as energetically directed by Sam Wrench (Billie Eilish Live at the O2) and edited by a six-person team (with Max Richter's Sleep's Dom Whitworth as its lead) as it is performed. And, for anyone that's sat through Valentine's Day and Cats and found them hardly purring, it gives Swift the cinema presence that she's been trying to amass here and there — The Giver and Amsterdam are also on her resume — for over than a decade. Watching The Eras Tour doesn't just feel like watching a concert, but a musical spectacular in its vast grandeur, complete with the lead to match. Filmed over three concerts at Los Angeles' SoFi Stadium in August — closing out the first US leg on a global excursion that'll have notched up nearly two years of performances when it finishes in Toronto in November 2024 — The Eras Tour goes for both scale and intimacy, the holy duo of the genre. Concert flicks can't just passively watch on. One of their biggest aims: gifting audiences perspectives on the show that they can't see in-person, including spanning far and wide plus near and close. So, this one takes in the massive crowd and the just-as-enormous stage design from above. It also gives Swift's dancers and band their due. And, it, sees the star herself get sweaty, and the changing gleam in her eye depending on what which track calls for. As bouncily spliced together, each image reinforces an inescapable takeaway: everything about this tour is huge, from the cast and crystal-clad costumes to the sets and setlist, and also Swift's own stamina and chameleonic showmanship. Live and as recorded for posterity, nine of the singer's ten studio albums earn their own era (the one that doesn't, her 2006 self-titled debut, receives a track during the late acoustic section). Cue pinballing between records and styles, appearances and themes, and ballads and pop. Accordingly, songs from 2019's bright Lover sung in a bejewelled bodysuit give way to gold fringing to go all country-pop with 2008's Fearless, then orange cottagecore and witchy black cloaks for 2020's Evermore, a one-legged and snake-clad black-and-red catsuit for 2017's Reputation, and so on. Eras onstage has been exhaustively documented since opening in Arizona in March, making knowing which tracks Swift will sing, outfits she'll wear, moss-covered cabins she'll sit atop and glistening pools she'll seem to dive into scarcely a surprise not only to the Swiftiest of Swifties, but to anyone who hasn't been able to avoid the tour coverage — but in a production this immense and evolving, a "what'll happen next?" vibe still pulsates. Sans accompanying footage — interviews, behind-the-scenes glimpses and commentary are absent, with just snippets of bloopers dotted through the closing credits — The Eras Tour lets the show and tunes do the talking, plus Swift's chatter when she addresses the adoring crowd. By the time that she mentions how fun it is to segue through sounds and looks, and how it's made possible due to her fans (so: popularity and sales), the film has already made that plain, too. An ode to reinvention sits at the centre of Eras onstage and on-screen, and to longevity as well. When 'Look What You Made Me Do' enlists Swift's dancers in clear boxes, each decked out like various versions of the superstar across the years, the Barbie nods aren't subtle. 2023 is clearly the year of cinema celebrating women being everything that they want to be, which thrums at the heart of two key Swift details: why she's kept striking a chord, including with her youngest aficionados who see her as an array of role models, and her savvy knack for transformation. To the delight of The Bear's Cousin (Ebon Moss-Bachrach, No Hard Feelings), 'Love Story' gets a whirl early. Usually Swift-agnostic The Eras Tour viewers can consider the hit TV dramedy's fictional character their spirit animal while watching. This presentation is as shiny and shimmering as everything that its star wears, and as irresistible as the catchy 'We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together' refrain and slinky 'Vigilante Shit' beat as a result. Getting to the why of it all, Swift briefly explains the tour's concept; "what are you gonna do, play for three hours?" she says she was asked about touring post-pandemic after not yet taking Lover, Evermore, fellow 2020 release Folklore and 2022's Midnights on the road. The swarm of phone-wielding concertgoers before her cheer, of course. Understanding why Eras has had everyone talking since is as simple as letting The Eras Tour wash over you. A music film veteran with movies about everyone from Mary J Blige and Blur to Brandi Carlile and Lizzo on his resume, director Wrench knows that his task with The Eras Tour is multifaceted. His latest concert flick needs to spy the macro and the micro; to feel like it's on the ground and unveiling a money-can't-buy experience; and to see its star as everything and an everywoman whether she's singing about falling in love, searching for a soulmate, heartbreak, revenge, empowerment and identity — and playing guitar or piano. That it does this so seamlessly is no minor feat. Swift isn't a stranger to bringing her shows to the screen, as seen with The 1989 World Tour Live and Taylor Swift: Reputation Stadium Tour, but Swifties will consider The Eras Tour their Stop Making Sense, The Last Waltz and Amazing Grace. For everyone else, all almost three hours of the film is still enchanting to meet. Top image: TAS Rights Management, Trafalgar Releasing.
One of Sydney's best dog walking arenas is the 40-hectare Bicentennial Park. The scenic parkland encourages pups to accompany your day. Drinking alcohol is permitted, so you're welcome to sip a few brews while your dog-child runs around with his friends — there's a designated off-leash area near P5a car park for that purpose. Your doggo is also welcomed (on a leash) around much of the park (except the Badu Mangroves) — so you can hike up to Treillage Tower for expansive views of the wetlands, stroll along Homebush Bay or check out the boardwalks. If you're hungry, you can grab a snack at Cafe at Waterview, or pre-pack a feast and enjoy it one of the barbecue or picnic areas.
Set amongst the rolling hills above Orange, you'll find luxury cabins planted in the heart of a cherry orchard: Basalt. It's named for the volcanic rock of the now-dormant volcano Gaanha-bule (Mount Canobolas) that enriches the soil of said cherry orchard. Basalt has three secluded studios which sleep two people, each with its own unique design and backstory. The Chaser Studio — a homage to those who chase their dreams as the orchard operators did in the 1970s when they turned the neglected piece of land into the fruitful orchard it came to be — is perched atop the hill overlooking the cherry trees, enjoying 180-degree views to the north, east and south. The Drifter Studio is named for fruit pickers from all walks of life who have passed through the orchard over the years. Finally, the Yonder Studio is situated 80 metres from the nearest studio and is the most secluded of the three — it is grafted into the hillside and looks out over the neighbouring eucalypts. Each studio is fitted out with a king-sized bed, kitchenette, bath (with views), internal wood fire and outdoor firepit, telescope for land- and stargazing, aircon and continental breakfast for your first morning. You may feel like you're a world away while staying at Basalt, but it's only a short 11 kilometres from the town of Orange and offers numerous add-ons — including winery tours, stargazing sessions and Indigenous cultural experiences — as well as recommendations for experiences visitors can take while in the Orange region. Be entranced by the seasonality of the natural surroundings, no matter what time of the year you plan to visit — enjoy lush bountiful summer days, auburn autumnal leaves, frosted bare branches in winter or budding blossoms in spring. It's an excellent hub from which to explore the Orange region. Images: Monique Lovick
Not content with boasting Nigella Lawson's touch on its culinary program, Vivid Sydney 2025 has enlisted another huge name in the world of food and television: Martha Stewart. The Harbour City's winter festival is bringing the businesswoman and TV personality Down Under for a one-night-only in-conversation session, where she's taking to the stage to chat about her career. On the agenda: discussing everything from her start as a stockbroker, her 101 books and winning Emmys to becoming the first self-made female billionaire — and likely her 2024 Netflix documentary as well. How did Stewart become a globally known name in all things home and hospitality, and in design and TV, too? Expect to take that journey from her first book in 1982, through her Martha Stewart Living days and since with her at the International Convention Centre Sydney on Wednesday, May 28. How has she remained a pop-culture figure for four decades — and relevant as well? That'll also be discussed, so you can probably also expect to hear about her friendship and collaboration with Snoop Dogg, plus her 2023 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue cover at the age of 81. Stewart heads to Vivid Sydney as part of its Global Storyteller series, which has seen Parks and Recreation's Amy Poehler, The White Lotus' Jennifer Coolidge and Mike White, filmmakers Baz Luhrmann (Elvis) and Spike Lee (Da 5 Bloods), and Australia singer Troye Sivan get chatting in previous years. Stewart also joins a 2025 Vivid program that includes Lawson curating the Vivid Sydney Dinners series in Martin Place's lit-up Muru Giligu pedestrian tunnel, Tangerine Dream and Anohni and the Johnsons on the music lineup alongside Sigur Rós performing with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra and Portishead's Beth Gibbons , an immersive Stranger Things experience at Luna Park, lighting up Sydney Opera House's sails with work by the late David McDiarmid, Vincent Namatjira taking over the Museum of Contemporary Art Australia's facade and plenty more. [caption id="attachment_998032" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Gage Skidmore via Wikimedia Commons[/caption] Top image: Gage Skidmore via Wikimedia Commons.
Bridget bloody Jones is back and, frankly, we couldn't be happier. No, Bridget Jones's Baby is not the most cohesive narrative of the year, and no, it's not going to spur any radical political movements. Still, hardcore Bridget fans can breathe a sigh of relief, because this threequel is still pretty damn good. Fans of Helen Fielding's book series may have already deduced that Baby is not based on the third Bridget Jones novel Mad About The Boy, in which (*mega spoiler alert*) Mark Darcy dies. It's devastating, v sad and not at all Hollywood. Thankfully this is not this story. Instead, this tale is about BJ (Renée Zellweger) getting knocked up, and the antics that ensue as she tries to figure out the identity of the father. Is it quintessentially British barrister Mark Darcy (Colin Firth) or the OTT American love professor Jack Qwant (Patrick Dempsey)? It literally doesn't matter, that's not the point. The point is enjoying the face-palming situations that Bridget creates for herself as she tries to negotiate between the two maybe-baby daddies. The film guns for the same mix of stuffy British and slapstick humour that fans of the series all know and love – but this time around, Bridget is actually doing things that will make you fist pump. She's more like us than ever before: shagging randos at music festivals, looking fierce, texting with emojis, being surgically attached to her phone, kicking ass at work, telling her mother to sod off and best of all, deciding to have a baby on her own. Like a fine wine, modern day Bridget has undoubtedly gotten better with age. The writers have stayed true to the quirks of the original films without being slaves to them, for which we give great thanks. The red PJ pants are back, as are the lonely apartment dance routines and awkward speeches, but as homage rather than easy imitation. The plot doesn't just lazily redo all the bits that worked from the last films, like we're idiots who won't notice. There's no Hugh Grant, although Emma Thompson as a put-upon obstetrician more than makes up for his absence. On the other hand (unfortunately, there's always another hand waiting to slap you down), Patrick Dempsey is completely outclassed by his costars – although to be honest, it doesn't really seem fair to put a very American American in the middle of the most British comedy ever and expect it to go down smoothly. Also the actual plot, which isn't super-duper to begin with, kind of…entirely falls over at the half way mark. When the jokes stop rolling in and the sappy emotional routine starts around the third trimester, things get incredibly cringey. This may be the biggest difference between the decidedly British and smaller budget originals and this rather more shiny update. We expect a few sappy moments from Bridge, made bearable by the presence of a large pair of granny panties or a stripper's bunny outfit, but the saccharine sweetness of this film's final act does get a bit off-putting. Then again, by that point you're already well and truly invested. So it's fine. Or as BJ would say, v good. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0nhGGQ_PYyE
The diverse and highly acclaimed British troubadour Elvis Costello, whose career spans three decades, is back in Australia this year to perform from his back catalogue, which plays like a one-man pop encyclopedia. Costello last graced Australia's shores in 2009 when he was here performing solo shows, and is now here as part of the headlining bill for Byron Bay's Bluesfest this coming Easter. In 2010 Costello released, National Ransom, with The Imposters, who join him on tour for what is anticipated to be a spectacular concert experience, in what is surely the prettiest of Sydney's theatres. Almost completely impossible to classify into a musical genre, Costello might have been relegated completely to the underground if his tunes weren't so damn catchy. And in this sense, he's actually a bit of a punk. Not the stereotypical 'ripped jeans down with Thatcher' kind of punk, but in the attitude of not caring what anybody else thinks. Elvis Costello has always been unique and demonstrated that he's never cared what's playing on the radio. He just wants to make whatever music he wants to make. A punk in thick-rimmed glasses and a dapper suit. https://youtube.com/watch?v=tpprOGsLWUo
What had Amy Schumer advising that her hosting plan was "to stay present until I black out" and Troy Kotsur promising not to sign any profanity? Where did Timothée Chalamet opt not to wear a shirt, Tiffany Haddish declare that she's a superhero just for being herself, and anniversary tributes to everything from The Godfather, Pulp Fiction and Bond toWhite Men Can't Jump and Juno take place like an entertainment website had somehow come to life? That'd be the 2022 Academy Awards. Back in a March time slot, Hollywood's night of nights just handed out its gongs for this year — recognising films from last year — and plenty happened. Where did the first-ever live performance of Encanto's 'We Don't Talk About Bruno' occur, too? At the Oscars today, obviously. (We won't talk about a certain outburst that also took place, because it doesn't deserve any further oxygen.) While the ceremony always sparks conversation — great, bad or fine, the latter of which fits here apart from its violent interlude — the Academy Awards are always about celebrating top-notch movies. The body behind them made some incredibly questionable choices with its live event this year, including taking eight categories it didn't deem sexy enough out of the televised broadcast (including the one that none other than Hans Zimmer won, and understandably decided not to attend to collect), but a heap of worthy flicks still just picked up shiny trophies. As a result, CODA is now the reigning Best Picture winner, Jane Campion became just the third woman ever to win Best Director and Dune nabbed almost every technical award it could — and they're just some of this year's crop of recipients. From Drive My Car earning some Best International Feature love to Cruella's costumes getting the nod, if you're wondering what else emerged victorious, the full rundown is below. You can also check out our picks for the 11 winners you should watch right now as well — and our full lists of where most of this year's contenders are screening or streaming in both Australia and New Zealand. OSCAR NOMINEES AND WINNERS 2022 BEST MOTION PICTURE The Power of the Dog West Side Story Belfast Dune Licorice Pizza King Richard CODA — WINNER Don't Look Up Drive My Car Nightmare Alley BEST DIRECTOR Jane Campion, The Power of the Dog — WINNER Paul Thomas Anderson, Licorice Pizza Steven Spielberg, West Side Story Kenneth Branagh, Belfast Ryusuke Hamaguchi, Drive My Car PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE Olivia Colman, The Lost Daughter Nicole Kidman, Being the Ricardos Jessica Chastain, The Eyes of Tammy Faye — WINNER Kristen Stewart, Spencer Penélope Cruz, Parallel Mothers PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE Will Smith, King Richard — WINNER Benedict Cumberbatch, The Power of the Dog Andrew Garfield, Tick, Tick... Boom! Denzel Washington, The Tragedy of Macbeth Javier Bardem, Being the Ricardos PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE Ariana DeBose, West Side Story — WINNER Kirsten Dunst, The Power of the Dog Aunjanue Ellis, King Richard Judi Dench, Belfast Jessie Buckley, The Lost Daughter PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE Kodi Smit-McPhee, The Power of the Dog Ciarán Hinds, Belfast Troy Kotsur, CODA — WINNER Jesse Plemons, The Power of the Dog JK Simmons, Being the Ricardos BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY Licorice Pizza, Paul Thomas Anderson Belfast, Kenneth Branagh — WINNER King Richard, Zach Baylin Don't Look Up, Adam McKay (story by McKay and David Sirota) The Worst Person in the World, Joachim Trier and Eskil Vogt BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY The Power of the Dog, Jane Campion The Lost Daughter, Maggie Gyllenhaal CODA, Sian Heder — WINNER Dune, Jon Spaihts, Denis Villeneuve and Eric Roth Drive My Car, Ryusuke Hamaguchi and Takamasa Oe BEST INTERNATIONAL FEATURE FILM Drive My Car (Japan) — WINNER The Worst Person in the World (Norway) Flee (Denmark) The Hand of God (Italy) Lunana: A Yak in the Classroom (Bhutan) BEST ANIMATED FEATURE Encanto — WINNER Luca The Mitchells vs the Machines Flee Raya and the Last Dragon BEST DOCUMENTARY FEATURE Summer of Soul (…Or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised) — WINNER Flee Ascension Attica Writing with Fire BEST ORIGINAL SCORE The Power of the Dog, Jonny Greenwood Dune, Hans Zimmer — WINNER Don't Look Up, Nicholas Britell Encanto, Germaine Franco Parallel Mothers, Alberto Iglesias BEST ORIGINAL SONG 'No Time to Die', No Time to Die (Billie Eilish and Finneas O'Connell) — WINNER 'Dos Oruguitas', Encanto (Lin-Manuel Miranda) 'Be Alive', King Richard (Beyoncé Knowles-Carter and Dixson) 'Down to Joy' Belfast (Van Morrison) 'Somehow You Do', Four Good Days (Diane Warren) BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY Dune, Greig Fraser — WINNER The Power of the Dog, Ari Wegner The Tragedy of Macbeth, Bruno Delbonnel Nightmare Alley, Dan Laustsen West Side Story, Janusz Kaminski BEST FILM EDITING Dune, Joe Walker — WINNER The Power of the Dog, Peter Sciberras Don't Look Up, Hank Corwin King Richard, Pamela Martin Tick, Tick... Boom!, Myron Kerstein and Andrew Weisblum BEST PRODUCTION DESIGN Dune, Patrice Vermette and Zsuzsanna Sipos — WINNER Nightmare Alley, Tamara Deverell and Shane Vieau West Side Story, Adam Stockhausen and Rena DeAngelo The Tragedy of Macbeth, Stefan Dechant and Nancy Haigh The Power of the Dog, Grant Major and Amber Richards BEST VISUAL EFFECTS Dune, Paul Lambert, Tristan Myles, Brian Connor, Gerd Nefzer — WINNER Free Guy, Swen Gillberg, Bryan Grill, Nikos Kalaitzidis, Dan Sudick Spider-Man: No Way Home, Kelly Port, Chris Waegner, Scott Edelstein and Dan Sudick Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, Christopher Townsend, Joe Farrell, Sean Noel Walker and Dan Oliver No Time to Die, Charlie Noble, Joel Green, Jonathan Fawkner, Chris Corbould BEST COSTUME DESIGN Cruella, Jenny Beavan — WINNER Dune, Jacqueline West and Bob Morgan West Side Story, Paul Tazewell Nightmare Alley, Luis Sequeira Cyrano, Massimo Cantini Parrini and Jacqueline Durran BEST MAKEUP AND HAIRSTYLING The Eyes of Tammy Faye, Linda Dowds, Stephanie Ingram and Justin Raleigh — WINNER Dune, Donald Mowat, Love Larson and Eva von Bahr Cruella, Nadia Stacey, Naomi Donne and Julia Vernon Coming 2 America, Mike Marino, Stacey Morris and Carla Farmer House of Gucci, Goran Lundstrom, Anna Carin Lock and Frederic Aspiras BEST SOUND Dune, Mac Ruth, Mark Mangini, Theo Green, Doug Hemphill and Ron Bartlett — WINNER West Side Story, Tod A Maitland, Gary Rydstrom, Brian Chumney, Andy Nelson and Shawn Murphy No Time to Die, Simon Hayes, Oliver Tarney, James Harrison, Paul Massey and Mark Taylor Belfast, Denise Yarde, Simon Chase, James Mather and Niv Adiri The Power of the Dog, Richard Flynn, Robert Mackenzie and Tara Webb BEST DOCUMENTARY SHORT SUBJECT Audible Lead Me Home The Queen of Basketball — WINNER Three Songs for Benazir When We Were Bullies BEST ANIMATED SHORT FILM Affairs of the Art Bestia Boxballet Robin Robin The Windshield Wiper — WINNER BEST LIVE ACTION SHORT FILM Ala Kachuu — Take and Run The Dress The Long Goodbye — WINNER On My Mind Please Hold Top image: Netflix.
Sydney is arguably the sporting capital of Australia. It’s where the Socceroos won the Asian Cup last year, it’s the home of rugby league in Australia and who could forget that John Aloisi penalty at Sydney’s ANZ Stadium against Uruguay to take us to the World Cup? This February, Sydney's the centre of global sport action once again, with the Harbour city’s debut Rugby 7s event, Sydney 7s. Not across the Rugby 7s? This isn’t your average game of rugby. If you’re familiar with rugby union, then you’ve got a good head start, but don’t fret if you’ve forgotten everything that punter at the pub told you during last year’s World Cup — or if you have no knowledge whatsoever of the sport. We’re going to start from scratch, compare the two where necessary and get you up-to-speed so you can act like quite the expert come game day. So here’s seven things you need to know for the Sydney 7s, arriving on February 6 and 7. THE RULES As you might have guessed, the number seven is pretty fundamental to the whole shebang. Let's break it down: There are two seven-a-side teams — consisting of three forwards and four backs. They'll play a 14-minute match made up of two seven-minute halves on a full-size Rugby Union field. Players can only pass the ball backwards or kick the ball to move downfield, with the aim of the game being to get over the opposition’s tryline at the other end of the field. Do this and you score a try, worth five points. After every try, the scoring team attempts a drop kick conversion through the uprights to earn two more points — totalling seven points for a converted try. Teams can also score three points with a drop goal or a penalty kicked between the goalposts. After each score, the scoring team kicks off to the opposition to make sure the other team has an equal opportunity to return serve. Penalties result in either a scrum or kick for goal, depending on the offence committed. Scrums consist of three forwards versus another three. The scrum half feeds the ball into the channel between the interlocked forwards and retrieves the ball from the back of the scrum and play continues. If the ball goes out of bounds then a lineout occurs. Lineouts take place between two or three players and a player throws the ball back in to play. Finally, each team is only allowed to make three substitutions during the course of the game out of their five available reserves. If you’re familiar with the rules of rugby, you can see that 7s borrows a lot from the game played in heaven but adds its own laws that serve one purpose: to keep the game fast and free flowing. IT’S FAST AND FUN Rugby 7s is all about entertainment. With only seven players defending a full size field, side steppers, speed merchants and fitness freaks tear down the field and punish the slightest gap in a defence. The game is designed to allow scoring and demands it happens quickly. In fact, Sevens sees a try scored roughly every 70 seconds. Also, with matches being only 15 minutes in duration, you’ll see over 20 games on each day of the Sydney 7s. We’ve done the math and you’ll see around 240 tries on each day of the tournament! That is some serious bang for your buck. Plus you’ll get to see some of the fastest athletes in the world like Carlin Isles of the United States, who runs 100m in 10.13 seconds. Check out his highlights above. One thing's for sure, you won’t be caught twiddling your thumbs at the Sydney 7s. EVERYONE DRESSES UP Whilst there is plenty of action on the field, there’s just as much for you to do off it. For you see, 7s is a global party famous for its mix of party and rugby action. And like all good parties, there’s a fancy dress theme. Sydney 7s’ theme: 'go global'. To celebrate the international flavour of 7s, get into the spirit and dress as your favourite nation, no matter whether they are competing or not. Pull out your kilts or your Statue of Liberty costume but if you feel that’s too much, you can always wear your country’s jersey. Make sure you wear something comfortable to dance around in though as there’s live music each night. Saturday sees The Veronicas perform live before The Hoodoo Gurus bust out their classics on the Sunday. Forgotten about The Veronicas? How could you, they’re 4ever. [caption id="attachment_556948" align="alignnone" width="1280"] Image: Alistairjh, Wikicommons.[/caption] IT'S NOT YOUR REGULAR RUGBY CAST One of the great things about 7s that contributes to the sport being such a worldwide phenomenon is that it doesn’t feature your regular cast of rugby heavyweights. I mean sure, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa and England feature. But there’s also Kenya, Portugal and the United States of America. Joining these seven nations in Sydney are the current world champions Fiji, alongside Argentina, Canada, Fiji, France, Japan, Russia, Samoa, Scotland and Wales. Importantly, Australia and England have never had their hands on the World Series trophy (there's a lovely little fact that'll really piss off hardcore Aussie and UK supporters, use at your own peril). So why are Kenya suited to playing 7s when you never hear about them in rugby union spheres? Well remember, 7s is tailor made for fit and speedy athletes. If you get a bit of open space to run into, well, just look at the winners of most long-distance events at the Olympics and you’ll understand why Kenya are involved in 7s. [caption id="attachment_556949" align="alignnone" width="1280"] Image: Jesús Gorriti, Wikicommons.[/caption] SEVENS IS AN OLYMPIC SPORT IN 2016 That’s right, 7s is heading to Rio for both men and women and with the Olympics just over six months away, Sydney 7s has become an audition to become an Olympian, with all but one of the qualified nations playing in this tournament. This Olympic carrot has been crucial for the growth of the sport, with a 120 percent increase in global rugby participation since 2009 (when the IOC announced it was returning as an Olympic sport). This rise in competition for spots has resulted in the skills skyrocketing and also attracted some of the big names of world rugby — Sonny Bill Williams has signed on for 2016 and already claimed that it’s the toughest training he’s ever undertaken. THE PLAYERS NEVER SAY DIE With an average of just 70 seconds between each try, you can’t turn away from the field for a second. For example, in 2013 with three minutes to go in the match, the United States led New Zealand 19-5. The All Blacks then marched down the field three times for three converted tries inside three minutes, scoring after the siren to overrun the US and win 26-19. They were incredible scenes and hopefully they’re replicated a few times across the Sydney 7s tournament. THE LOGISTICS Sydney 7s will light up Allianz Stadium, Moore Park on Saturday, February 6 and Sunday, February 7. Tickets are available on the official website in one- or two-day packages. Check out the schedule for each day and pick how much party you want across the weekend. Tickets are selling fast, so grab yours soon else you’ll miss out. See you at the 7s!
UPDATE, November 20, 2020: Cargo is available to stream via Netflix, Google Play, YouTube Movies and iTunes. The ravenous undead have been chomping their way across screens for decades. Still, if it seems like their appetite has kicked into higher gear in recent years, that's because it has. Or, perhaps more accurately, the viewing public's hunger for zombie fare has ramped up considerably. Undead thrillers, zombie comedies, long-running TV shows about the brain-eating hordes — we just can't get enough. It's a zombie feast, not a zombie famine, although don't go thinking that you've seen it all before. Australian film Cargo sinks its teeth into the undead basics, and yet still manages to carve out its own territory rather than mindlessly following the masses. With people scarce and zombies shuffling, the movie begins in a standard-enough fashion, plunging into an outbreak that transforms the living into the living dead in 48 hours. Andy (Martin Freeman) and Kay's (Susie Porter) solution is to stick to their houseboat and float down an outback river, which is the best thing they can do to keep their infant Rosie safe. Unfortunately, their sense of security is short-lived, leaving Andy scrambling across the dusty landscape to protect his baby. Also trying to cope with the new dystopian status quo is young Indigenous girl Thoomi (Simone Landers), with Cargo examining more than one fraught father-daughter relationship. Updating their 2013 Tropfest short of the same name to feature length, co-directors Ben Howling and Yolanda Ramke know that less is more. A good zombie film doesn't need complicated scenarios or elaborate explanations, so the duo keep things simple. A great example of the genre puts more focus on the humans than the undead, so that's how the filmmakers approach their movie. You won't find heaving throngs of walking corpses here — but you will find a variety of folks handling the life-or-death crisis in different ways. Andy desperately searches for someone to look after Rosie. Ex-fracking worker Vic (Anthony Hayes) plans for the future in a far more insidious manner. And while Thoomi has managed to keep her zombified dad (Bruce R. Carter) around, her elders, lead by their cleverman Daku (David Gulpilil), have their own methods — and their own ideas about the source of the pandemic. If it's rare for a zombie flick to dive so deeply and thoughtfully into its characters, then it is rarer still for such a film to also ponder various kinds of death and destruction. Writing as well as co-helming, Ramke weaves both humanity's impact upon the environment and white settlers' treatment of Australia's aboriginal people into the narrative — and Cargo is all the better for it. While there's plenty that's familiar, especially if you're an undead connoisseur, the movie smartly and astutely plays up the many real-life parallels that come with its premise. These days, contemplating the end of existence as we know it goes hand-in-hand with contemplating our ecological footprint. Similarly, exploring a world where one part of the population terrorises another provides a timely exploration of race relations. Previous zombie stories have also drawn comparable conclusions, but where George A. Romero highlighted racism in Night of the Living Dead half a century ago, Cargo reclaims a space for Indigenous culture in the fight for survival. Amongst all of the above, and amidst the gorgeously shot South Australian backdrop, Freeman and Landers stand front and centre. The former might be a veteran and the latter a newcomer, but the movie wouldn't work quite as well without either. Freeman's recognisable everyman persona comes in handy, even if it makes you remember his trek across greener terrain in The Hobbit trilogy. Landers' naturalism couldn't be more buoyant, even in such a bleak film. One gets more screen time than the other, but together they embody Cargo's distinctive take on its well-worn genre. This involving, moving zombie drama initially ambles along a reliable path, yet isn't afraid to find its own direction — and isn't shy about blending the expected and the fresh in the process. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_SiHPtwQ7s
It's not every comedian who would take a nonchalant detour from her LA stand-up set to announce to the audience she'd just been diagnosed with breast cancer. That day. "With humour, the equation is tragedy plus time equals comedy," said Tig Notaro that night. "I am just at tragedy right now." A brave, matter of fact Grammy-nominee who did something instantly legendary in 2012, Notaro has just announced she's coming back to Australia. One of the US's biggest stand-up comedians, Notaro is heading to our shores from December 6 – 13 for a limited run of dates presented by Melbourne International. Stopping by Perth, Melbourne, Brisbane and Sydney, Notaro's Boyish Girl Interrupted tour is sure sell out venues within an inch of their capacity — having sold out her wildly successful Edinburg Fringe run last year and sold a casual 100,000+ copies of her Grammy-nominated, second comedy album Live, the follow up to her 2011 debut Good One. Notaro's blend of humour and real life truth bombs have earned her serious high fives from some significantly kickass people — Louis CK tweeted after her LA show, "In my 27 years doing this I have seen a handful of truly masterful performances. One was Tig Notaro last night." Then This American Life's Ira Glass went and praised his frequent TAL contributor, "Tig is now in the heads of hundreds of thousands of people who don’t see her as a comic, she’s now their favourite person." Throw in some kickass guest appearances on The Office, The Sarah Silverman Program, Inside Amy Schumer and Community and you've got yourself one truly applauseworthy comedian. Tig Notaro's Boyish Girl Interrupted 2014 Dates: Perth: Saturday 6 Dec, 8pm — Regal Theatre. Tickets via Ticketek. Melbourne: Tuesday 9 Dec, 8pm — Athenaeum Theatre. Tickets via Ticketek. Brisbane: Thursday 11 Dec, 8pm — Tivoli Theatre. Tickets via Ticketmaster. Sydney: Saturday 13 Dec, 8pm — Enmore Theatre. Tickets via Ticketek. Tickets on sale on Wednesday 17 September. Image: Ruthie Watt.
