In its ninth year, the Head On Photo Festival has returned to Sydney, setting up its festival hub once again in Paddington and introducing a new venue at the Royal Botanic Gardens. Running until Sunday, May 20, the festival brings over 100 exhibitions from around the world this year, showcasing 700 photographers from 22 different countries. So from now until the 20th, you could conceivably go from peeking into intimate moments of George Harrison and Eric Clapton's lives captured by Pattie Boyd, to running away with the circus at Queensland photographer Craig Holmes' Of Caravans and Canvas, which depicts Australia's longest-running family-run circus, Ashton Circus, to exploring the booming (with an annual revenue of 80 billion dollars) wedding industry in China — and all in one day. Unable to make it to everything? Make sure you at least make it to some of the highlights including a floating exhibition and an app-led collection in the Botanic Gardens; a collection of images focused on JFK (which happens to also coincide with the former American president's 101st birthday); and a dive into female identity and where eastern and western traditions come together. As a first for the festival this year, it will also feature works from some of the most prestigious photo competitions and awards locally and from around the world, plus the program brings with it a host of talks, workshops and, of course, the Head On Photo Awards. The Head On Photo Festival runs until Sunday, May 20. Discover the full program here. Image: George Harrison, Eric Clapton & Me: The Photography of Pattie Boyd. Credit: Pattie Boyd.
The film industry is a long way off achieving gender parity, but female directors have been wowing audiences for decades nonetheless. And in the case of Australian female filmmakers, they've been helming some of the country's most memorable movies — from 89-year-old silent film The Cheaters by the pioneering Paulette McDonagh, to Gillian Armstrong's Judy Davis and Claudia Karvan-starring High Tide, to the chills and thrills of Jennifer Kent's The Babadook. All of the above — fantastic Aussie ladies behind the lens, and the fantastic films they've been making — are in the spotlight at this year's Sydney Film Festival. Each year for the past few years, the fest has tasked David Stratton with taking a look back through cinema's past, and in 2019 he's focusing on trailblazing Australian women filmmakers. Running from Wednesday, June 5 to Monday, June 10 at the Art Gallery of New South Wales as part of SFF's broader program (which keeps going until Sunday, June 17), Essential Australian Women Directors showcases the work of ten top local female talents. Each one is a crucial slice of Aussie movie history, including Jane Campion's Cannes sensation Sweetie, the stunningly original Bedevil by Indigenous artist and photographer Tracey Moffatt, and Cannes Camera d'Or winner Love Serenade from Shirley Barrett. Nadia Tass' Malcolm, Jackie McKimmie's Waiting, Rachel Ward's Beautiful Kate and Ana Kokkinos' Blessed round out the program — and Stratton will be on hand at each screening to introduce the films.
The best way to really explore a place? Taste it. We're all about food tourism and farmgate experiences in 2023, so it's delightful (and delicious) that our glorious Sunshine State is serving up a jam-packed season of delectable festivals. If you nab tickets to any of these stand-out events, you'll be well placed to eat and drink more fresh and local fare than you've done in your life. Next year's lineup will have you encounter celebrity chefs, salt-of-the-earth farmers and artisan crafters of all things gourmet and gorgeous. It will have you spend sunny days (yes, even in winter — it's Queensland) at markets and masterclasses, tours and guided tastings, feasting on farmland and sampling frothy bevs by the salty sea. You'll see the source of every bite, discover the land, sea and people behind the flavours and, of course, just consume everything the Sunshine State has to offer. Together with Queensland, we've found the intel on five fantastic foodie experiences that you'll want to get yourself to. So, pack your stretchy pants and loosen your belt, and head to Queensland for a gourmet adventure. EAT LOCAL MONTH, SCENIC RIM BRISBANE This festival is a guaranteed locavore's delight, placed in the aptly-named Scenic Rim, just a short drive from Brisbane or the Gold Coast. Running annually, Eat Local Month offers a slew of foodie and farming activities — including free and family-friendly events and the Winter Harvest Festival. The lush area is home to renowned cooks, distillers, growers, brewers, makers of all things delicious — such as award-winning camel milk gelato — and some pretty famous carrots (the region is actually known as Australia's Carrot Capital). Eat Local Month is a month of tastings, food trucks, tours, meet-the-maker events and the best chefs from Queensland and beyond coming to work their magic with the local abundance. Kids can learn about cheesemaking and gardening, all while you sip locally made liqueurs and spirits, wines from just over the hill and beers brewed just around the corner. If you're a foodie who cares about fresh produce, provenance and artisan makers, come feast on the Scenic Rim. Eat Local Month, Saturday, June 2023 THE CURATED PLATE, SUNSHINE COAST This delicious festival debuted in 2019 before being rudely interrupted by a certain pandemic. In 2022, it was offered in a smaller 'side-plate' format, but it's returning with a bang in 2023 with the full The Curated Plate festival from Friday, July 28 till Sunday, August 6. Over 10 days, you will have the chance to encounter the varied flavours of Queensland and immerse yourself in the region — this is as farm-to-table (and still-to-bottle) as it gets. You'll get the chance to meet the growers and artisans on their home turf — the Sunshine Coast — as they show off the best of the local food scene alongside guest chefs. Previous events have included fermentation and bush tucker classes, long lunches and degustations as well as boat trips and farm-gate experiences. Whatever the 2023 line-up holds, it's a food tourism extravaganza no gourmand can afford to miss. The Curated Plate, Friday, July 28 till Sunday, August 6, 2023 TASTE BUNDABERG FESTIVAL, BUNDABERG Go troppo for 10 days of pure Bundy flavour. This region is about way more than just its iconic brands (although you'll find those here, too). From Friday, August 4 until Sunday, August 13, discover the best of the locale at Taste Bundaberg with everything from farm tours and feasts to markets, masterclasses, music and maker-led events. In previous years, there's been in-orchard dining, sun-soaked long-table lunches, celebrity chef demonstrations, guided cheese-tasting, cocktail making and gourmet picnics where you can sample the produce from the land beneath your very feet. With glorious weather, there's a full program of indoor and outdoor activities for foodies and families to take advantage of. Taste Bundaberg, Friday, August 4 till Sunday, August 13, 2023 CRAFTED BEER & CIDER FESTIVAL, BROADBEACH Sprawling across Broadbeach's Kurrawa Park, the Crafted Beer & Cider Festival welcomes the best local breweries and bigger names from around the country. You're in for two expertly curated days of ice-cold frothies and foodie delights beside the beach. Last time, there was nearly 60 breweries and over 400 beers. Sound overwhelming? Don't worry, the full list and tap map are released ahead of time so you can plot your golden haze of a journey along the rows of beers, ciders, seltzers, ginger beers and more (there's vinos, spirits and cocktails too). You can expect a few festival exclusives, specialty beers and non-alc options as well — plus live music to feed your ears and food trucks for your bellies. Vendors are still TBC, but you can expect all you need for a day of beer and sunshine. For tunes, a full spectrum of musicians will take to the stage, from established acts (2022 saw British India headlining) to emerging artists. Crafted Beer & Cider Festival, Saturday, September 9 till Sunday, September 10, 2023 MORETON BAY FOOD AND WINE FESTIVAL, MORETON BAY BRISBANE Showcasing the culinary delights and fine fresh foods of southeast Queensland, the Moreton Bay Food and Wine Festival is taking over Woody Point's Apex Park for the first weekend in August, 2023. The celebration is part of the epic six-week Tastes of Moreton Bay Festival. In 2022, more than 20,000 people rocked up for the weekend, and you can be sure that eager, hungry crowds will once again converge beside the glittering waters of Moreton Bay to savour fine foods. A smorgasbord of foodie experiences will roll out over one long weekend — everything from maker's markets, performances and masterclasses to classic games of beer pong and spectacular fireworks. Sip cocktails by the water or watch as celeb chefs take to the stage to demonstrate their recipes demonstrations that make the most of the fine foods from the land, sea and artisans in this prodigious pocket of the Sunshine State. Moreton Bay Food and Wine Festival, Friday, August 4 till Sunday, August 6, 2023 To explore more of the food and wine events taking over Queensland in 2023, head to the website.
In recent years, Brisbane's Gallery of Modern Art has played host to an array of weird and wonderful exhibits. The Hulk's giant bed, a real-life snowman and Patricia Piccinini's otherworldly field of not-quite-flowers have all graced the South Brisbane site's halls and walls, as have David Lynch's inimitable art and a recreation of a real-life riverbed. But between Saturday, November 28, 2020–Monday, April 26, 2021, the cultural institution is heading in a completely different direction. A gallery-wide celebration of motorcycles mightn't be the kind of thing you'd generally expect to find at GOMA; however, that's exactly what'll be on display. Called The Motorcycle: Design, Art, Desire, the Queensland-exclusive showcase explores the two-wheeled vehicle's enduring appeal — from the way it looks and how it has evolved over the years, to the way it's portrayed in popular culture and how it makes people feel. Obviously, the exhibition does so by displaying plenty of motorbikes. Sourced from public and private collections from around the world, more than 100 are riding into GOMA — with some dating back more than 150 years. That'd be the Perreaux steam-powered velocipede from 1871, which is the oldest-known motorbike on the planet. It's joined by a selection of the first Aussie built and designed motorcycles, including one made in Brisbane in 1906; record-breaking bikes, such as the land speed record-breaking 1951 Vincent Black Lightning; and a lineup of super-modern motorcycles that represent the vehicle's future. [caption id="attachment_798484" align="alignnone" width="1920"] The Motorcycle - Design, Art, Desire; VIP Preview; GOMA Level 1[/caption] Honing in on the motorcycle's importance not just as a mode of transport, but as an ever-evolving machine, The Motorcycle: Design, Art, Desire also features interactive experiences — so prepare to virtually hop on a 50s Vespa and go riding in real-time through a themed landscape, or build and customise your own bike. And, because there are quite a few motorbike-related movies to choose from, GOMA's Australian Cinematheque is getting into the same gear so you can revved up while watching a film. In March, there's an Up Late program of after-hours parties, too. Installation view The Motorcycle: Design, Art, Desire 28 November 20 – 26 April 21 Gallery of Modern Art, Brisbane Photograph: Chloë Callistemon, QAGOMA
When the eighth season of Game of Thrones finished its run a few months back, and the highly popular show along with it, everyone knew that it wasn't really the end. The world created by George RR Martin will live on in his books, whenever the author finally publishes the long-awaited next instalment of his A Song of Ice and Fire series. And, it'll keep going in multiple GoT TV prequels. Like residents of Westeros hoping that summer (or at least autumn) will last for ever, HBO isn't ready to let go of its highly successful commodity. In 2017, the US network announced that it was considering five different prequel ideas, green-lighting one to pilot stage in 2018. Now, it looks poised to give another series the go-ahead. Details about the first spinoff show are still relatively thin on the ground. Co-created by A Song of Ice and Fire author George RR Martin with British screenwriter Jane Goldman (Kick-Ass, X-Men: First Class, X-Men: Days of Future Past, and the two Kingsman movies), it'll be set thousands of years before the events of Game of Thrones, with Naomi Watts, Miranda Richardson and John Simm among the cast. But, as The Hollywood Reporter reveals, the second potential series has a firm basis. Adapted from Martin's book Fire & Blood, it'll focus on House Targaryen. We all know what happened to GoT's last surviving Targaryens, aka Daenerys, her brother Viserys and her boyfriend/nephew Jon Snow. Fire & Blood jumps back before all that, to 300 years prior — with the first 738-page volume of the text, which was published in November 2018, starting with Aegon I Targaryen's conquest of the Seven Kingdoms and working through the family's history from there. [caption id="attachment_721122" align="aligncenter" width="1920"] HBO.[/caption] Given Daenerys' affinity for dragons, and her relatives' fondness for using the fire-breathing beasts to wage wars and claim power (sound familiar?), they also play a part in the tale. Plus, Aegon I created the Iron Throne, which means that this is an origin story in more ways than one. Whether the Fire & Blood adaption will progress from a concept to a show is yet to be seen, but you don't have to be the Three-Eyed Raven to know that some of these prequel ideas will hit screens. Apparently two other ideas are also still under consideration — because, like winter, more GoT shenanigans are definitely coming. Via The Hollywood Reporter. Top image: Helen Sloan/HBO.
UPDATE, January 7, 2022: Wrath of Man is available to stream via Binge, Google Play, YouTube Movies, iTunes and Amazon Video. Too many times in his now 23-year feature filmmaking career, Guy Ritchie has happily crammed a heap of his favourite things into a bag, shaken it about, spilled it out onto the screen and called it his next movie. The British director likes twisty crime capers, dialogue peppered with slang and wisecracks, and memorable character nicknames. He loves chopping his narratives up into parts, then piecing them back together in a non-linear fashion. And, he's rather fond of enlisting sizeable ensemble casts, then switching between their varying perspectives. He's keen on trying to keep his audiences guessing, too. That said, he also likes having someone explain the inner workings of a plan, then showing said scheme in action while those descriptive words echo above his needle drop-heavy soundtrack. If you've seen Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, Snatch, Revolver, RocknRolla or The Gentlemen, you'll recognise all of the above. And, you'll know that in three of those films, Ritchie managed to point his lens at another of his favourite things as well. Lock Stock and Snatch didn't just make Ritchie a star, but also catapulted Jason Statham to fame. The pair found a groove that worked for them, and it changed their lives — until, with Revolver, it didn't. With revenge thriller Wrath of Man, Ritchie and Statham reunite after 16 years apart. During that stretch, the former subjected the world to his terrible Sherlock Holmes films, fared better with left-field additions to his resume like The Man From UNCLE and Aladdin, but didn't quite know what to do with King Arthur: Legend of the Sword. The latter has become an action go-to over the same time — with both forgettable and memorable flicks resulting, including three Fast and Furious movies and a stint scowling at Dwayne Johnson in the franchise's odd-couple spinoff Hobbs & Shaw. Accordingly, Ritchie and Statham reteam after heading in their own directions. Thankfully, they're not just interested in rehashing their shared past glories. From Wrath of Man's first moments, with its tense, droning score, its high-strung mood and its filming of an armoured van robbery from inside the vehicle, a relentlessly grim tone is established. When Statham shows up shortly afterwards, he's firmly in stoic mode, too. He does spout a few quippy lines, and Ritchie once again unfurls his narrative by jumping between different people, events and time periods, but Lock, Stock Again or Snatch Harder this isn't. Instead, Wrath of Man is a remake of 2004 French film Le Convoyeur. While walking in someone else's shoes turned out horrendously for Ritchie with the Madonna-starring Swept Away, that isn't the case here. Statham plays Patrick Hill, the newest employee at the Los Angeles-based cash truck company Fortico Securities. On his first day, his colleague Bullet (Holt McCallany, Mindhunter) dubs him H — "like the bomb, or Jesus H," he says — and the nickname quickly sticks. H joins the outfit a few months after the aforementioned holdup, with the memory of the two coworkers and civilian killed in the incident still fresh in everyone's minds. So, when gunmen interrupt his first post-training run with Bullet and Boy Sweat Dave (Josh Hartnett, Penny Dreadful), they're unsurprisingly jumpy; however, H deals with the situation with lethal efficiency. Cue glowing praise from Fortico's owner (Rob Delaney, Tom & Jerry), concern from his by-the-book manager (Eddie Marsan, Vice) and intrigue about his past from the rest of the team (such as Angel Has Fallen's Rocci Williams and Calm with Horses' Niamh Algar). Ritchie leaps both forwards and backwards from there, teasing out H's backstory and also exploring exactly what's brought him to his current gig. But this isn't just his tale, as seen via the time spent with Jackson (Jeffrey Donovan, Let Him Go), Jan (Scott Eastwood, The Outpost) and their fellow military veterans — plus glimpses of Agent King (Andy Garcia, Words on Bathroom Walls). The ominous mood remains steadfastly intact as Wrath of Man fleshes out the details, and composer Christopher Benstead (The Gentlemen) keeps working overtime with the nerve-rattling thrumming. Both could be accused of overplaying their hands, but they're effective. The same applies to Statham's no-nonsense tough guy routine, which never wavers, yet never becomes monotonous either. He exudes menace from the outset, as he typically does on-screen, but here it's of the baked-in variety. Wrath of Man isn't short on narrative twists, moving parts on justifications for H's behaviour, but there's an internalised sense of pain and anger in Statham's performance that never feels as if it's just going through the plot-dictated motions. Statham still glowers, throws around fists and shoots bullets like a man on a mission — and growls his lines like each word is a weapon, too — all of which happens often. But Wrath of Man is a streamlined rather than an indulgent action film. While it runs mere minutes shy of two hours, it doesn't pad out its frames with overblown and overly chaotic filler. As Godzilla vs Kong and Nobody also demonstrated recently, the power of cleanly shot and coherently staged action scenes really can't be underestimated. Viewers should be swept up in the action, rather than lost in it, which Ritchie, cinematographer Alan Stewart (Tom and Jerry) and editor James Hebert (Edge of Tomorrow) understand. Ritchie and co-screenwriters Marn Davies and Ivan Atkinson (The Gentlemen) also know the difference between a complicated storyline and a convoluted one. They wade into murky thematic territory, including exactly why folks might be driven to wage violent campaigns of vengeance or carry out intricate robberies, but don't ever expect to deliver easy answers. Wrath of Man doesn't come close to reaching the heights of fellow LA-set heist films Point Break and Heat, and it's also well aware of the crime and revenge genres' many conventions; however, it finds its niche. It also leaves its audience looking forward to the next collaboration between Ritchie and Statham — an as-yet-untitled spy film that's already been shot — rather than dreading that they'll simply stick to their decades-old greatest hits. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vcOP5kQrABk
On-screen chemistry is just one of those things that either happens or it doesn't. Directors and producers crave it and pray for it, just as they know they can neither control it nor create it. It's not a question of acting ability or great writing or even casting; it's just luck. Plain old luck. Will your actors get along well in real life, and will that chemistry translate onto the screen? Thankfully for director David Ayer (Training Day) and his new film, End of Watch, the rapport between Jake Gyllenhaal and Michael Peña is so remarkable, it takes a good movie and turns it into something great. The two play a pair of brash young LA cops whose daily routine is rocked by the discovery of a major Mexican drug cartel operating right within their own neighbourhood. For the two actors, playing police officers made the task of achieving a believable relationship even more important, since it's successful partnerships that can often prove the difference between life and death out on patrol. Before filming began, Gyllenhaal and Peña actually spent five months driving around with and observing the LAPD in order to supplement their own natural chemistry with every tiny mannerism, expression and act of non-verbal communication they could capture. The results speak for themselves. Their chemistry makes this movie, serving up equal doses of laughter, tenderness, and unbearable tension. Presented through the entirely unnecessary device of 'found footage', it's a consistently violent story; however, the action is never without merit. Much like Training Day, the stakes are higher because the film and characters feel real, which ultimately makes End of Watch something of an exhausting experience to sit through. That's no criticism, however, and Ayer's smart script and direction deserve credit for deftly drawing you into the gritty and unpredictable world of law enforcement, right alongside those who occupy it, suffer by it, and sometimes even die for it.
It's not every day you get to sit down to a lavish vegan high tea, designed by internationally renowned chef Matthew Kenney. But that foodie dream could soon be part of your weekly routine, as Kenney hits Australia to launch a new series of high tea feasts, fusing local ingredients with some pretty clever techniques. It all kicks off this October, at Kenney's plant-based restaurant Alibi Bar + Kitchen, within Ovolo Woolloomooloo. The new offering will see vegans completely spoiled for choice, with five different two-hour packages available throughout the week — depending on how boozy you want your feast to be. Spend just $65 to match your high tea nibbles with a glass of sparkling rosé, plus bottomless tea and coffee, or go large and pay $140 for bottomless Perrier-Jouet grand brut. As for the food, expect an array of sweet and savoury delights, like baby quiches with vegan cream cheese, forest mushrooms matched with wasabi cream, and a mixed berry 'cheesecake' with strawberry compote. A range of signature plant-based cocktails will also be on offer, including a Kaffir lime mule crafted on house-made ginger beer. Vegan High Tea is available from 12–4pm, Wednesday–Sunday.
Usually, cancer movies aren't just terrible and generic — they're insulting. Too often focusing on pretty young things succumbing slowly to the insidious disease while trying to relish their remaining time, they frequently tug at the heartstrings with shameless abandon, treating their protagonists and their plights as a mechanism to wring weepy sobs out of the audience. The Fault in Our Stars did it. Me and Earl and the Dying Girl did too, even winning awards at Sundance for dressing up its efforts with an overtly quirky, cinema-worshipping vibe. So when a film hones in on a cancer-afflicted teenager yet refuses to trot out the same old tropes and cliches in the same old ways — when it instead appreciates its protagonist as the sum of everything that makes her who she is, instead of the mere cause of everyone else's sense of loss, including viewers' — it firmly, welcomely stands out. Babyteeth is that movie, and it could never be mistaken for a standard sickness drama. As directed by Australian theatre and TV veteran-turned-feature first-timer Shannon Murphy, this lively, insightful and moving film truly sees its central figure, Milla (Little Women's Eliza Scanlen), as a person first and foremost. She isn't simply a storytelling tool used to evoke easy emotion and inspire tear-streaked faces. Nor is she a secondary figure primarily deployed to stress the extent of someone else's troubles, as many a movie that endeavours to explain away the grating behaviour of a healthy but struggling character has been known to do. Milla's flaws and difficulties aren't buffed down to a soft, saintly sheen, as has become a hallmark of illness on-screen, and her coming-of-age journey isn't presented as a bittersweet reminder that life is far too short. Rather, Babyteeth follows the passionate Sydney high schooler as she falls for 23-year-old small-time drug dealer Moses (Acute Misfortune's Toby Wallace) while her already distressed and labouring parents watch on. Milla tumbles literally at first, during the pair's meet-cute on a Sydney train platform as the instantly recognisable station announcement tone echoes through the speakers above her. While the just-evicted Moses asks for money, he's also tender and caring, even though the two have just crossed paths. And so, immediately intrigued by and smitten with this stranger who gives her more attention for just being herself than she's become accustomed to receiving, she proposes a deal: she'll give Moses $50 if he takes to her sandy, cascading hair with clippers in a pre-treatment strike, then comes back to her sprawling suburban home to have dinner with her parents. Initially introduced in a stilted psychiatry office sex scene — one that speaks to their flailing, failing quest to retain any normality they can during their daughter's illness — Milla's mother Anna (Essie Davis) and father Henry (Ben Mendelsohn) aren't thrilled with their dinner guest. He'll still become the fourth figure in their dysfunctional family as the months pass, though, as Milla relapses and undergoes chemotherapy, ex-classical pianist Anna relies upon Henry's prescription pad to help her cope, and Henry himself begins an unexpected friendship with their pregnant neighbour Toby (Emily Barclay). As adapted from Rita Kalnejais' play by the writer herself, Babyteeth strings its tale together from moments, as the film's key quartet take each minute, second and development in their lives as it comes. Some days, Moses pilfers the household's pills. On others, Milla wrestles with the supposed be-all and end-all that is her school formal. Whether sneaking out to parties and empty karaoke bars or having animated debates, they both keep butting heads with Anna and Henry, too, who both keep attempting to tread the waters of Milla's hard-earned but always-tentative grasp on happiness. From neon-hued exchanges that glow with yearning affection, to frank declarations that Milla and Moses' relationship "is complicated", Babyteeth is unmistakably built from familiar pieces — but it's how the film uses them that matters. When the pithy script has an antidepressant-addled Anna exclaim "what have you done with my daughter?!" to Milla, it also tasks the teen with giving the type of honest answer that only someone with cancer can: "I killed her". At every turn, this pattern continues, not that it ever plays as systematic, repetitive or predictable for an instant. Kalnejais' perceptive and writing combines with Murphy's keen eye for complicated emotions — and the roving, bouncing, ever-expressive visuals that enliven the film's parade of vibrant vignettes as well — to ensure that Babyteeth continually twists even the most well-worn of narrative details in their own direction. In her second role as an unwell adolescent in a row, following Little Women, Scanlen gives a vivid, assured performance beneath Milla's revolving array of naturalistic, ice-blonde and turquoise wigs — another factor that lifts Babyteeth well beyond its thematic peers. She's a ball of energy when Milla is excited, anxious, angry and rebellious, plays peaceful and resigned with the same inner force, and stomachs the ignorance and condescension of the less sympathetic with quiet pain and fortitude. Unsurprisingly given the cast, she isn't the only actor in stellar form. The wiry Wallace deservedly won the Best Young Actor award at 2019's Venice Film Festival for his thoughtful work, and Davis and Mendelsohn — the latter in straight rather than menacing mode for a change (see: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, Ready Player One and Robin Hood) — convey the storm of conflicted feelings whirling inside Anna and Henry. In words rarely, if ever, directed at a film about a teenager with cancer, the feature's core performers all prove raw, sensitive, astute and arresting. So does this dynamic, melancholy and memorable drama itself, and it's one of the best Aussie movies that'll hit cinemas in 2020. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PLNXHJB5Mto
UPDATE, November 20, 2020: Jumanji: The Next Level is available to stream via Amazon Prime Video, Foxtel Now, Google Play, YouTube Movies and iTunes. History would suggest that Jumanji: The Next Level is perfectly placed to be a spectacular failure. Beyond the obvious point that sequels almost always fare poorly, there's the fact that its enjoyable predecessor, 2017's Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle, falls into the one-trick category — aka kids zapped into a video game and trapped in bodies different to the ones you'd expect. Then, there's the absolute deluge of publicity preceding this follow-up's release, which is generally a bad sign. On paper, the only real source of hope seems to stem from Dwayne Johnson, who rarely makes bad career decisions. But then you remember the horror show that is the Baywatch movie, and you think maybe not even that is true anymore. And yet, to its credit, Jumanji: The Next Level manages to forge new ground directly atop the old one, all thanks to an inspired twist in its tale. It doesn't quite capture lightning in a bottle again, but boy does it come damn close. Yes, the young same cast (Alex Wolff, Ser'Darius Blain, Morgan Turner and Madison Iseman) is back. Yes, they're again pulled into the video game world of Jumanji — and yes, as their in-game characters (Dwayne Johnson, Kevin Hart, Karen Gillan and Jack Black), they must once again find a rare jewel to secure their release. Had the sequel merely switched which avatars the four college kids landed in, the gimmick would've been over before it began, but here's where The Next Level gets clever. While the original quartet plan to enter Jumanji, it doesn't exactly work out that way. Instead, some are pulled in, but so too are curmudgeonly grandpa Eddie (Danny DeVito) and his former business partner Milo (Danny Glover). For anyone who has ever tried to explain a video game or even just a remote control to a grandparent, the struggle that ensues will be painfully and hilariously relatable — and the film exploits it beautifully. As a result of that narrative twist, returning leads Johnson, Hart, Gillan and Black all play host to new personalities, adding unexpected flavour to the already amusing gender and identity scramble of the original. Johnson and Hart are the standouts, with both offering note-perfect impressions of DeVito and Glover. It's a particular delight to see these actors play so enthusiastically against type — especially Hart, who eschews his fast-talking wisecracks to serve up the vocal equivalent of a car doing 20 kilometres per hour in an 80 zone. Johnson, too, clearly relishes the opportunity to move beyond his traditional 'good guy in a muscle suit' routine, playing someone both unlikeable and entirely out of his element. There are other key changes, too. The quest within Jumanji isn't the same as last time, meaning that even the veteran players find themselves desperately trying to make sense of it all before their three lives are spent. Like all good video games, the next level is also considerably more difficult. From the get-go, the threats are multiplied and the challenges are more complex. Whether via a flock of deadly ostriches, a bottomless ravine or a jealous lover named Switchblade, death can (and does) come at any moment — and, in this instalment, the characters get down to just one life far sooner. These action sequences are inventive in the vein of the best Pixar films, and the accompanying soundtrack evokes the kind of exhilaration and adventure usually found in an Indiana Jones picture. Then there's Spencer (Wolff), the awkward and nervous teen who previously became Johnson's Dr. Smolder Bravestone. His desire to regain the confidence that came from that transformation is what leads the gang back inside Jumanji in the first place. Once he's there, he instead finds himself sporting a new avatar: pickpocket Ming Fleetfoot, played by Awkwafina. The actor/rapper puts in a terrific performance, serving up precisely the kind of new character the film needed to build upon the original. Elsewhere, Nick Jonas and Colin Hanks also reprise their roles, while the funniest body swap involves cheerleader Bethany (Iseman) — although we'll leave just what she swaps into as a surprise. Once again directed by Jake Kasdan — who took over the Jumanji franchise from Joe Johnston, the filmmaker behind the original 1995 movie — perhaps the biggest change is the defter touch with which The Next Level handles its quieter moments. In particular, the unresolved conflict between Eddie and Milo simmers neatly below the surface throughout, and its ultimate resolution proves surprisingly tender for an action-comedy. Without ruining the ending, the film leaves it all but settled that another sequel will be in the works, which seems especially likely after The Next Level set box office records for Sony on its opening weekend in America. As long as the series can maintain the same level of inventiveness and surprise, that's not a bad thing at all. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rBxcF-r9Ibs
Just months after opening a second location in Haymarket, Edition Coffee Roasters is permanently closing its Darlinghurst cafe. Announcing the news on its social media platforms, Edition will shift its focus to its new venture, in a move designed to "pave way for the next chapter". With its Darling Square store now considered its flagship site, the outfit will "continue to keep the dream alive, serving the best possible coffee, food, service and experience we can share". A Darlinghurst mainstay since opening at the beginning of 2015, Edition quickly became a brunch favourite with its fusion of Japanese and Scandinavian dishes, served in an airy, minimalist space to match. And, obviously, for its coffee — which Sydneysiders will now need to visit Steam Mill Lane to enjoy. For those keen on popping in to Liverpool Street for one last meal in Edition's original digs, you'd best get in fast — it's closing up the kitchen on Sunday, September 30. Caffeine fiends eager to remember cuppas gone by, you have a bit longer to make the trop, with the Darlinghurst spot serving coffee for an extra week following before finally shutting the doors on Sunday, October 7. Edition Coffee Roasters will remain open at 265 Liverpool Street, Darlinghurst until October 7. For more info, visit editioncoffeeroasters.com. Image: Google Maps.
Dystopian thriller Snowpiercer is a difficult film to categorise. Adapted from a French graphic novel by celebrated South Korean director Bong Joon-ho (The Host, Memories of Murder), it exists at a weird intersection between action film, arthouse movie and genre flick, merging violence with scathing social commentary. Released in Australia on just two screens, it's hard to imagine the film scoring big at the box office, despite the presence of Chris Evans, aka Steve Rogers, aka Captain America. But for anyone who likes their blockbuster with brains, Snowpiercer should definitely be sought out. The film takes place 17 years after a botched attempt to halt global warming plunged the planet into a new ice age. The last remnants of humanity live aboard an enormous, fast-moving train, perpetually circling the globe. The wealthy elite live at the front of the train, surrounded by the luxuries and comforts of the old world. The rest live in the rear carriages, in squalor and in fear. Evans plays Curtis, the de facto leader of the tail section, who leads his people in a revolt to try take control of the engine. Each carriage the rebels capture means another new environment, which brings with it new threats and new discoveries. In this way, Bong mirrors the structure of a videogame, allowing him to maintain an arresting sense of momentum. His visuals are expectedly stylish, while the set design is top-notch; the filthy metallic greys of the tail section soon give way to images of increasing extravagance and excess. The train is a microcosm; a reflection of the growing social and economic divide we see in the world today. The allegory is a grim one, and the violence similarly is uncompromising. Nevertheless, Bong and his co-writer Kelly Masterson inject plenty of moments of black humour. Alison Pill plays a fanatical primary school teacher who reminds her students in a sing-song voice that outside "we'd all freeze and die!" Taking even bigger bites out of the scenery is Tilda Swinton as a cruel, bucktoothed bureaucrat who parrots the party line that "everyone has their place". In comparison to some of the more over-the-top supporting players, Evans feels rather on the stilted side. He's got the brooding intensity figured out, but struggles with the more emotional stuff — there's one dramatic monologue in particular, towards the end of the film, that may cause unintentional laughter. Thankfully, he's ably supported by a cast that includes John Hurt, Octavia Spencer and Jamie Bell, as well as a regular Bong collaborator Song Kang-so. The film's ending may throw some people, but then again, that's part of its appeal. A confronting think piece wrapped in a bizarre and bloody thrill ride, the highest praise you can offer Bong's film is that it really is unique. https://youtube.com/watch?v=nX5PwfEMBM0
The Hunter Valley and wine go hand in hand, as any NSW resident with even a passing interest in the latter knows. Any Aussie in general is well aware, too, for that matter. So many vineyards, so many drops to choose from, so many places to start. Our pick: Allandale Winery's verdelho. Named for the Portuguese grape, it's a particularly fruity white. And, as made with Aussie grapes, it's known for an intense but clean taste. If you're interested in the technical side, Allandale's verdelho is cold-fermented in stainless steel, using specially selected yeast, all at its four-decade-old winery in the Lovedale area. Vino lovers who drop by can enjoy a cellar-door tasting for $5 a person, with the fee waved if you end up buying a bottle (or several). You'll also soak in the site's views of the Brokenback Mountain Range — and all those sprawling vines, of course.
Since making her movie debut as "girl in a blue truck" in Dazed and Confused, then popping up in a Texas Chainsaw Massacre sequel, Renee Zellweger has enjoyed quite the career. She belted out a tune on a rooftop in Empire Records, told Tom Cruise that he had her at hello in Jerry Maguire and became everyone's favourite romantically challenged Briton in three Bridget Jones flicks. Then, she razzle-dazzled her way to an Oscar nomination in Chicago, before nabbing a coveted statuette for Cold Mountain. It's an impressive resume. So, when we say that Judy may just be Zellweger's best work, we don't make that statement lightly. Stepping into a famous figure's shoes might be one of acting's most difficult feats, especially when that person is cinema royalty, but Zellweger doesn't ever feel like she's just impersonating Judy Garland. Rather, she wears Garland's ruby slippers as if they're her own — and they fit perfectly. Technically, because Judy is set in the year leading up to the eponymous star's death, Zellweger doesn't literally don that iconic pair of footwear, with the film enlisting newcomer Darci Shaw to do the honours in flashbacks to Garland's teenage years. Zellweger doesn't need glittering shoes to inhabit the part, though; with nuance and intensity simmering through her performance, she shines brighter than any jewel-toned item of clothing ever has. While the aforementioned leaps back into the past show where Garland started, the expectations placed upon her and the destructive impact of her showbiz childhood, Judy spends the bulk of its duration in 1969. Garland is 46, with more than four decades of experience to her name, but she's scrounging for work. Deemed unemployable by Hollywood's insurance agencies, which nixes her cinema stardom, The Wizard of Oz, Meet Me in St. Louis and A Star Is Born talent sings and dances through touring stage shows instead. Both broke and homeless, she's trying to provide for two of her children (Bella Ramsey and Lewin Lloyd). So, when she reluctantly takes a long series of gigs in London, it's largely to earn enough cash so she doesn't have to keep travelling away from her kids afterwards. Given the above state of affairs, plus years of using prescription pills to stay awake and to get to sleep (and drinking as well), Garland isn't in prime physical, emotional or mental health during Judy's period of focus. Remaining in the public eye since she was two has clearly taken its toll, understandably. And, while Garland knows this, she's addicted to the thrill of being in the spotlight — and she has an ego to with it, too, as her interactions with her British minder (Jessie Buckley) demonstrate. Still, what a joy it is to spend time with Zellweger's version of Garland, and not only when she's wowing crowds while strutting across the stage. In an always hypnotic, often heartbreaking portrayal that illustrates the star's on-stage strength and behind-the-scenes sorrow in tandem, Zellweger turns every scene into a revelation. Watching as Garland dotes over her youngest offspring, attends a party with her twenty-something daughter Liza Minnelli (Gemma-Leah Devereux) and falls swiftly for her fifth husband (Finn Wittrock), viewers see the yearning heart of someone who just wants to love and be loved in return. In her messier moments, of which there are many, we feel the kind of aching pain that all the cheering fans in the world can't fix. And, when she's crooning a greatest-hits collection from across her career — including 'Get Happy' and, of course, 'Over the Rainbow' — we understand why she keeps doing what she does even when it's almost killing her. For existing Garland aficionados, the result is like trotting down the yellow brick road — you can bask in all the glorious details you've ever wanted, while also getting a glimpse behind the curtain at the stark reality behind the magic. And if The Wizard of Oz is your only real frame of reference for Garland, Judy wholeheartedly explains that the now-80-year-old classic was neither the beginning nor the end of her tale. Accordingly, in adapting stage musical Over the Rainbow for the screen, director Rupert Goold (TV's The Hollow Crown) and writer Tom Edge (The Crown) have hit the biopic jackpot. There's a sense of formula at work in Judy's storytelling, as can happen in showbiz portraits, but it captures its subject in a winning way. And, come next year, Zellweger will likely be winning plenty more awards for her efforts — for such a captivating performance that does justice to a legend, she deserves to. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C61wB6DTwiA
In reality, cantankerous curmudgeons don't routinely possess hearts of gold. Genuine intentions don't always gleam behind petty folks with grudges spouting insults, either. Movies like A Man Called Otto keep claiming otherwise, though, because cinema is an empathy machine — and placing viewers in the shoes of characters different to them, whether in background, behaviour, situation or temperament, remains key among its functions. Tom Hanks, the silver screen's beloved everyman of more than four decades, knows this. Veteran filmmaker Marc Forster does as well. After getting villainous in Elvis and sweet with Christopher Robin, respectively, the actor and director join forces for a feature advocating for understanding, kindness and acceptance. Behind that cranky nitpicker, local annoyance or rude aggressor might just lurk a story worth appreciating and a person worth knowing, it sentimentally posits. This Americanisation of A Man Called Ove, Fredrik Backman's Swedish 2012 novel that first hit the screen in its native language in 2015, did indeed come about exactly as expected. Hanks and his wife Rita Wilson saw the Oscar-nominated OG movie, contacted its producer Fredrik Wikström Nicastro (Borg vs McEnroe), then went about making a US-set, Hanks-starring iteration. Wilson is now also one of A Man Called Otto's producers. Truman Hanks, Tom's youngest son with Wilson, co-stars as the young Otto (nabbing just his second on-screen credit after popping up in his dad's News of the World). This flick's smooth path to cinemas and the easy family ties behind it speak volumes about the film that results; despite focusing on a man repeatedly trying to take his own life, attempts at which are constantly interrupted by his rule-breaking neighbours, openly and breezily warming hearts and pleasing crowds is this remake's aim. Misanthropic and embittered beyond even the internet's most pointless keyboard warriors, Otto hasn't met a scenario he can't sour with his resentment and sometimes downright cruelty. Cue arguing with hardware store workers about being charged for too much rope, yelling about dogs urinating on his lawn, denigrating walkers for their exercise attire, snapping at his forced retirement party, gruffly spouting property bylaws in his gated townhouse community and getting short with a stray cat. Hence the struggle to make his exit, too, because there's always someone or something to scold. Soon, that spans the pregnant Marisol (Mariana Treviño, Narcos: Mexico) and her husband Tommy (Manuel Garcia-Rulfo, The Lincoln Lawyer), who move in across the road with their kids Abbie (Alessandra Perez, To Leslie) and Luna (Christiana Montoya, The Guilty). Otto starts shouting at Marisol and her family about poor parking skills, but she isn't just willing to grin and bear his persnicketiness or bad temper. A film that rebukes nastiness instead of justifying it with a sob story, this isn't, however. It can't be. Since A Man Called Otto is a star vehicle for Hanks, its namesake is instantly destined to become likeable well before the end credits roll. That transition is true to the Swedish source material, but it feels unearned here. Specifically, it plays like casting doing too much heavy lifting, because an adored, usually affable, reluctant-to-be-disagreeable actor is going to turn out that way, as he frequently does, in this kind of uncomplicated affair. It's also a missed opportunity to make a statement about unpleasant people who are jerks for the sake of it, but that isn't the tale that Backman wrote, Swedish filmmaker Hannes Holm (Ted — Show Me Love) initially adapted and screenwriter David Magee (Lady Chatterley's Lover) reuses. Accordingly, Otto joins the ranks of surly and churlish on-screen men made that way by trauma (a dead wife in this case, played in flashbacks by Tokyo Vice's Rachel Keller, plus the isolation and loneliness he's been plagued with since her recent passing). Also, he's someone that everyone else can see goodness shining within even when he's at his worst. In other words, he's a scowling bag of cliches, which the movie endeavours to give depth via Hanks and Treviño. A Man Called Otto's best touch isn't pretending to get its high-profile lead playing against type, an approach that persuades no one. As a result, it isn't Hanks' committed but largely implausible efforts, either. Rather, it's ensuring that the charismatic Marisol is so convincing in her optimism, reluctance to let her crotchety neighbour bring her down and willingness to help anyone she can — selling why she, and anyone, would, could and should invest time and patience in Otto. When a feature needs a good-natured supporting character to make its audience care about its hostile protagonist, that isn't a great sign. With A Man Called Otto, this can't have been the desired outcome — just a matter of expecting Hanks to do what Hanks does, his charm kicking in regardless of what's around him. Worse movies have made that bet before, even if the actor's resume is filled with far more highs than lows. Forster's picture almost goes all in, Treviño's canny portrayal aside, given how by-the-numbers it proves in most of its choices (including workmanlike cinematography by Christopher Robin's Matthias Koenigswieser and an emotion-signposting score by Operation Mincemeat's Thomas Newman). There's being easygoing and then there's just ticking the straightforward, unchallenging and plainest-to-see boxes, with the director behind everything from Monster's Ball, Finding Neverland and Stranger Than Fiction to The Kite Runner, Quantum of Solace and World War Z clearly going for the former and achieving the latter. If the entirety of A Man Called Otto was as textured and luminous as Treviño's performance, viewers would've been gifted a better and less cloying film. That would've meant beefing up or ditching other plot points that happily skew broad and thin, and play like padding, such as rallying against exploitative corporations, turning Otto into a social-media star, using his fastidiousness to save the day, navigating multiple health conditions and serving up supposedly out-of-character nice deeds. And, it would've required giving gravity to Otto's recurrent suicide attempts, rather than being content with unamusing awkwardness. Also, it'd mean actually being funny, darkly, lightly, Curb Your Enthusiasm-style or otherwise. That said, the heartstring-pulling still works whenever Marisol is involved. A version of this tale from the scene-stealing Latin American character's perspective, unpacking issues of gender and race that this flick doesn't touch? That would've been refreshing, and might've also truly been loveable.
Sicario begins with an ordinary-looking slice of Arizona's desert-bordered suburbia, roving over rows of homes as far as the eye can see. As the kidnap extraction operation that will soon storm the doors of one particular house — and find much, much more than they bargained for — swiftly reveals, there’s little that’s normal behind the average facade. In a powerful start to his latest feature after Incendies, Prisoners and Enemy, director Denis Villeneuve ensures the chasm between perception and reality is apparent; indeed, it will echo throughout the feature. It's a fitting kernel of thought to plant in the minds of viewers who will witness 121 minutes of procedural tension seemingly concerned with the titular term — cartel slang for hitman in Mexico — in the context of the drug war, but actually delving into the haziness of trying to do the right thing by any means. It certainly bears remembering that Villeneuve doesn’t make films that could be considered easy viewing. As written by actor-turned-screenwriter Taylor Sheridan (Sons of Anarchy), Sicario jumps into the United States' furtive attempts to arrest the impact of the narcotics trade, then creeps through shades of grey, shimmers of complex uncertainty and slivers of necessary compromise. Accordingly, three figures earn the grim film's focus: FBI agent Kate Macer (Emily Blunt), plus government contractors Matt (Josh Brolin) and Alejandro (Benicio Del Toro). After leading the charge in the opening events, the former is asked to volunteer to work with the latter two men to bring a drug lord to justice. Their idea of how to do so, abandoning the rules in favour of operating in the shadows, differs to the by-the-book approach Macer prefers. Comparisons to Zero Dark Thirty prove apt and earned for an effort that treats its bristling violence and brutal set pieces as routine, strands its protagonist with reaching for an end result that can't be achieved by above-board means, and navigates the moral quandaries and harsh realities that spring. The striking, sunlit visuals, lensed by 12-time Oscar nominated cinematographer Roger Deakins (Skyfall) and seething with gritty texture, add to the overwhelming feeling of inevitability and despair Macer is saddled with, with as much said by the framing — often preferring to peer on at conversations from a distance, or capture action via aerial shots — as by the dialogue. Such rich imagery is matched not only by an unrelenting, rattling, bass-heavy score, but also by a trio of performances that simmer on screen. Blunt, continuing a spate of great choices of late that has included Looper and Edge of Tomorrow, finds the right mix of resilience and vulnerability as the woman at the centre of a puzzle she's being precluded from piecing together. Del Toro wears the feature's weariness, vagueness and murkiness in his gaze, while Brolin does the same thing with his sly smile and casual attitude — and becomes the film's standout player in the process. Indeed, Brolin acts as a weathervane for Sicario's end result, offering layers of quiet power that build with every exchange and altercation into an ever-troubling picture of ambiguity and unease. You're never quite comfortable with his character, nor should you be with the feature he's in, as compelling, confronting, stunning and downright exceptional as it is.
A scene-stealer in 2018's The Breaker Upperers, Ana Scotney now leads the show in Millie Lies Low. She's just as magnetic. The New Zealand actor comes to the part via Wellington Paranormal, Shortland Street, Educators and Cousins — and the film first debuted at festivals before her role in God's Favourite Idiot — but it's an exceptional calling card. It isn't easy playing someone so committed to making such utterly questionable choices, yet remaining so charmingly relatable; however, that's Scotney's remit and achievement in this canny, savvy and amusing comedy. It also isn't easy to pull off the timing needed to highlight the hilarious side of Millie's hijinks, while ensuring that her woes, hopes and everything that's led her to lie low but lie about living it up remain understandable; consider her entire portrayal a masterclass in just that. Scotney plays the film's eponymous Wellington university student, who panics aboard a plane bound for New York — where a prestigious architecture internship awaits — and has to disembark before her flight leaves. She says she isn't anxious. She also says it isn't an attack. And by the time she realises what she's done, she's alone in the airport, the aircraft has departed and her own face beams down at her from a digital billboard. Even getting that Big Apple opportunity had made her the toast of the town, and huge things were meant to await, hence the ads and publicity. Now, a new ticket costs $2000, which Millie doesn't have. Admitting that she hasn't gone at all — to her family, friends, teachers, school and the NZ capital at large — wouldn't cost her a thing, but it's a price she isn't willing to pay. First, Millie endeavours to rustle up the cash from her best friend and classmate (Jillian Nguyen, Hungry Ghosts), and then her mother (Rachel House, Heartbreak High). Next, she hits up a quick-loan business (run by Cohen Holloway, The Power of the Dog) but is still left empty-handed. Millie's only solution, other than admitting the situation and facing the fallout: faking it till she makes it. As she searches for other ways to stump up the funds, she hides out in her hometown, telling everyone that she's actually already in NYC. To support her ruse, she posts elaborate faux Instagram snaps MacGyvered out of whatever she can find (big sacks of flour standing in for snow, for instance) and scours for every possible spot, building feature and poster that can even slightly double for New York. There's a caper vibe to Millie's efforts skulking around Wellington while attempting to finance the ticket to her apparent dreams. Sometimes, she's holed up in a tent in her mum's backyard. Sometimes, she's putting on a disguise and showing up at parties in her old flat — eavesdropping on what her mates are saying in her absence, and spying on the boyfriend (Chris Alosio, Troppo) she's meant to be on a break from. While she's doing the latter, she's also reclaiming the car she sold pre-trip to use as loan collateral, because she's that determined to get to America and leave her nearest and dearest none the wiser. Making her feature debut, director and co-writer Michelle Savill has more than just a laugh and a lark in her sights, though, as entertaining as Millie Lies Low's namesake's antics are. There's a caper vibe to the picture of Millie's supposedly perfect existence that she's trying to push upon herself as much as her loved ones as well, like she's selling herself on an unwanted fantasy. Millie mightn't be sure whether the internship is truly her heart's desire, but she's sure that she doesn't deserve it or the fanfare that's come her way with it. Accordingly, Savill has imposter syndrome and the shame spiral it sparks in her gaze, too, and finds much to mine in both an insightful and darkly funny manner. As she follows her protagonist between episodic efforts to print the legend — or post it one Insta picture at a time — her keenly observed film also treads in the perennially great (and relevant) Frances Ha's footsteps. Both movies examine the self-destructive life choices of a twentysomething with a clear idea of what she wants everyone to think of her, but with far less of a grasp on who she really is herself and what she genuinely needs. Some framing and music choices make the connection between Noah Baumbach's Greta Gerwing-starring 2012 masterpiece and Millie Lies Low obvious, but this astute delight is never merely a Wellington-set copy of that fittingly NYC-set feature. Tapping into the reality that no one ever feels like a real adult, let alone a real person, is fuel enough for thousands of movies — and Savill's always has its own mood, thoughts and strengths, including in its interrogation of social media. It doesn't come as news that broadcasting a seemingly idyllic version of your life to everyone you know, and don't, creates pressure to maintain that facade. It isn't a revelation that that's what Facebook, Instagram and the like have inspired to begin with, either. Millie navigates a heightened version of a daily truth for many, and Millie Lies Low does what comedic exaggeration is meant to, acting like a mirror and a magnifying glass. Whether you're a Wellington local or not — or you've visited, or haven't — you can sense the city around Scotney as she flits around; Savill's direction, and Andrew Stroud's (The Changeover) cinematography along with it, has a lived-in look and atmosphere. It feels tangible, too, as do the many shrewd character details and bits of backstory layered through Savill and Eli Kent's (Coming Home in the Dark) script. Nothing about the film would work even half as well if Millie felt artificial, unsurprisingly. Scotney's magnificent performance is crucial, yes, but so is the fleshed-out material she's working with. Millie Lies Low also operates as a cringe comedy, and proves just as textured and relatable as viewers wince and squirm at its central figure's decisions. We cower and recoil — and chuckle — because we can spot the gap between the options that Millie takes and the better alternatives, and because there's nothing pretend about how accurate her fakery feels.
If watching a film is an experience rather than an act of mere observation, then watching a film by Apichatpong Weerasethakul is like bathing underneath a waterfall of sound and vision rather than simply sticking your toes in a pool. The contemplative might be his domain, but so is the sensory. The Thai filmmaker's works are designed to wash over his viewers, and from the moment they start you have no choice but to let them. Cemetery of Splendour, the latest entry on his resume, is no exception to this rule. It's a film you dissolve into, like a dream you might not want to wake up from, one that's always trying to pull you further and further below the surface. Like Weerasethakul's previous film, the Palme d'Or winning Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives, this new work combines a patient pace, hypnotic images and details both personal and political, creating a lavish and leisurely package that's both melancholy and joyous.. The sensation Cemetery of Splendour inspires in those watching is rather appropriate, since its protagonist, housewife turned volunteer nurse Jenjira (Jenjira Pongpas Widner), falls under a similar spell. While caring for soldiers afflicted with sleeping sickness, she warms to one man in particular (Banlop Lomnoi), with whom she feels a connection. Assisted by a medium, Keng (Jarinpattra Rueangram), Jen tries to communicate with her slumbering patient. So far, so straightforward — and Cemetery of Splendour does present perhaps Weerasethakul's most linear narrative. Weaving in statues coming to life and ghosts of times gone by, it swiftly proves far from conventional, the filmmaker's experimental sensibilities as present as ever. Here, a sense of place is paramount, particularly Jen's ties with the site the hospital stands on. Her bond with her location actually mirrors her director, who sets the film in his own hometown of Khon Kaen, and once again fashions his feature as a statement about his country. Indeed, think of Cemetery of Splendour as a combination of cinema and poetry, its sights and sounds striking in their own right, but continually conjuring up even more evocative feelings the longer they linger — and this is a movie that knows how to linger. That might sound like a cliché, especially when a feature is as simultaneously slow and sumptuous as this. However in Weerasethakul's efforts, the language of regular films doesn't really apply. Once again, the applauded auteur has made something that almost defies description as it burns its images into your eyeballs. There hasn't been a more meditative and mesmerising image in recent cinema than the line of neon-lit beds that proves the movie's visual centrepiece — and when you're looking at them, you always know you're doing more than just watching.
You've probably visited the CBD's Queen Victoria Building a few times. If you haven't wandered through it on the way to the train station, you've probably stopped by one of its many shops or champagne bars. But have you explored the depths of the QVB at night? And met Mei Quong Tart, the building's resident ghost? Probably not. If you have a penchant for all things haunted and supernatural, you'll be happy to know that this month you can do just that. The QVB is hosting a series of after-dark ghost tours throughout August, that'll let you explore secret parts of the building with an old-school lantern in hand — and meet Quong Tart, of course, who had a teahouse in the building back in 1898, but was killed during a robbery. Tours will take place on August 8, 15, 22, 28 and 29 with tickets costing $80 — which include a whiskey highball or G&T at Esquire afterwards. Throughout the month, the building will be hosting more after-dark activations, too, including an interactive Heart of the QVB installation — inviting visitors to fill a giant heart with ribbons of ideas — and a multi-level After Dark Live event on Thursday, August 22. For this one night, the 121-year-old building will come alive with performance art by Offerings, live music by Ginger & the Ghost and theatrical tours led by performance troop Twisted Elements. An Archie Rose bar will also pop-up in the building, so you can explore with a cocktail, too. Tickets to this event are free, but you'll need to reserve a spot between 6–9pm here.
Theatrical masterpiece This Is Our Youth will undergo another celebrity makeover when the play hits the Sydney Opera House this March. Michael Cera will lead the cast in an unconventional departure from his high-profile role in television series Arrested Development and films such as Juno and Superbad. He will be joined by Golden Globe nominee Kieran Culkin and AFI Award-winning actress Emily Barclay. Having directed the world premiere of This Is Our Youth in 1996 and sophomore season in 1998, Mark Brokaw returns to the director role in his debut Australian showcase. The script was written by Kenneth Lonergan, who went on to pen Gangs of New York. This Is Our Youth follows a tumultuous day in the lives of three New Yorkers in 1982, and explores their contemplations and sense of confinement in the Big Apple. Painting a bittersweet image of a discontent generation lost in a society undergoing rapid change, the play takes Australian audiences to a time and place that may not be so different to our everyday lives. Although it explores American society in the Reagan-era, the play's sheer bluntness and honesty has garnered worldwide appeal and acclaim. Its popularity with theatre enthusiasts has been reflected in stars such as Matt Damon, Colin Hanks and Jake Gyllenhaal all playing roles in previous seasons. The Australian performance is set to uphold the play's celebrated status. This Is Our Youth will run from March 14-25, 2012, at the Sydney Opera House. Tickets are available from February 10.
Come 2023, Parramatta is set to become the new home of the Powerhouse Museum. But when those doors swing open, western Sydneysiders might want to plan their visits for sunny days — with the recent spate of wet and stormy weather potentially proving a worrying sign for the soon-to-be relocated cultural institution. As rain bucketed down on the city over the past weekend, it caused the Parramatta River to flood. In the process, it also inundated the Powerhouse Museum's new site with water. As City of Parramatta Councillor Donna Davis has documented on Twitter, that led to a submerged carpark right where the relocated museum is set to stand. Obviously, that doesn't bode all that well for an institution that'll be filled with valuable artefacts. https://twitter.com/ClrDonnaDavis/status/1226293182431784960 This isn't the first time that concerns about flooding have been raised in relation to the Powerhouse Museum's move, which was announced back in 2015. Since 2017, the Powerhouse Museum Alliance — a body opposed to the move, advocating for the museum to stay at its current Ultimo location instead — has noted that the Parramatta spot is on a floodplain and susceptible to both river flooding and overland flash flooding. Its findings stem from council papers, plans and submissions, which place the riverside site in an area within the one-in-20 and one-in-100-year flood zones. That means that the odds that a flood will happen in any given year are as high as one in 20. Speaking to The Sydney Morning Herald this week, however, a spokesperson for the museum said that the new space would have withstood the past weekend's flooding. "The advice from our flood engineer is that the weekend's weather event did not reach the one-in-100 [year] flood level mark. All exhibition spaces in the museum have been designed to be above this level. Modern buildings are designed to withstand the elements — the new Powerhouse is no exception." [caption id="attachment_761228" align="alignnone" width="1920"] David Shoebridge MLC via Twitter[/caption] The relocated Powerhouse Museum's designs, which were unveiled in December last year, do indeed place the bulk of the new precinct on stilts, with French architect firm Moreau Kusunoki and Australia's Genton envisaging two towering buildings perched above public space. That said, even if flooding in the area didn't affect the museum's exhibits, it could still have an impact in other ways — like, surrounding the site with water, and making it difficult to reach or leave in an emergency. There's also the possibility that the museum's flood-mitigation mechanisms could fail. While it has been staunchly backed by the NSW Government, the Powerhouse Museum's planned move has hotly debated and opposed by various groups over the past five years. On the positive side, one of the state's five major cultural institutions will be located in Sydney's west for the first time, spreading the city's cultural footprint to an area where third of the state's population actually live. But, as well as the flood risk, concerns have been raised by the Alliance and the state opposition around the cost (which, at the moment, is $645 million but could hit $1 billion) and the fact that St George's Terraces and the heritage-listed 1800s villa Willow Grove will need to be knocked down. As the NSW Government has seen no need to heed flood warnings to date, it doesn't seem likely that this will affect plans for the new Powerhouse. But we'll keep an eye on the project and any further flooding. The Powerhouse Museum, at 500 Harris Street, Ultimo, will remain open to the public until June 30, 2020, with staged closures running thereafter. The new Parramatta museum is slated to open in 2023.
Crown Street's premiere salon offers high fashion cuts in a relaxed environment. The salon's Creative Director Mel Martin puts the customer experience above all else, making it a place you can pop into without feeling intimidated. You'll still leave feeling ready for the cover of a magazine. Women's shampoo, cut and dry starts at $90 (or $60 from an emerging stylist), with men's starting at $50. Aside from cuts, the Surry Hills favourite also specialises in extensions and balayage, along with other beauty services like eyebrow shaping and professional makeup application. [caption id="attachment_779941" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Cassandra Hannagan[/caption] Images: Cassandra Hannagan
Walking the delicate line between memory and dream, Lally Katz returns to Belvoir with a play about rediscovering her childhood...before it turns into Atlantis. Lally Katz always thought she'd wait till she was older to return to her childhood home in Miami. Having migrated to Canberra when she was still quite young, her memories of the place were precious and she wanted to protect them from the sagging disappointment that dogs us into adulthood. But with rising seas threatening to swallow the city in coming years and a meeting with a taxi driver who believed the lost city of Atlantis was coming to reclaim humanity, Katz thought it was now or never. What follows is a joyful and surreal account of the return to Miami. Five actors juggle a massive cast of characters from several different periods in Katz's life. As is typical of Katz's work, fantasy and autobiography have a quick chat before joining forces to create something altogether better. Atlantis is a wide-eyed, chaotic jaunt through a city that is no less vibrant for the creeping tide.
The Lego Ninjago Movie is the third Lego-based feature in a franchise that shows no signs of slowing down. It's also the first to take place entirely within an original Lego trademarked setting – the city of 'Ninjago' – and for its first half-hour feels like little more than an extended, big-budgeted commercial. Indeed, with the appearance of each new character, don't be surprised to see kids jumping out of their seats and pointing at the screen with gleeful recognition Still, while the film does its job as a marketing exercise from the get go, in terms of plot it takes a while longer to find its feet. Every day the evil Lord Garmadon (Justin Theroux) launches attacks upon the city from his evil villain volcano, and every day he's repelled by the colourful school-kids-cum-ninjas, the leader of whom is secretly Garmadon's own son Lloyd (Dave Franco). It's only once the lad's secret identity is revealed that the story shifts gears into something of a father/son reconciliation story – and while that's pretty familiar territory for the Lego franchise, it also provides the best material for the remainder of Ninjago. As with The Lego Movie and Lego Batman, this third movie utilises remarkable technology wherein almost everything on screen is assembled from computer-generated Lego pieces. Like the previous films, too, Ninjago is very self-aware, particularly regarding the Lego-ness of things like the absence of fingers and the way a Lego head can become stuck in the base of a Lego foot. It's these little flourishes that immediately feel familiar to anyone who's played with the toys before and, especially for adults, spark a pleasing nostalgia-based smile whenever they arise. The characters themselves, however, are noticeably less nuanced this time around, with only Lord Garmadon (played as a none-too-subtle parody of Donald Trump), Lloyd and Master Wu (Jackie Chan) offering any semblance of depth. The other five ninjas do provoke the occasional laugh but seem well below the calibre of the actors voicing them (Kumail Nanjiani, Zach Woods, Michael Peña, Abbi Jacobson and Fred Armisen). And yes, for those playing at home, you did count that correctly: six heroic ninjas, five of them male, which raises the age-old LEGO question: "uh...where are all the girls at?" It's a problem with which Lego is all too familiar. An internal review conducted by the company in 2008 revealed the damning statistic that 90% of its sales were directed towards boys rather than girls. Lego's response was to launch Lego Friends in 2012 – a toy line specifically intended for girls. Pretty smart move as it happens, with the company's annual profits shooting up by around 15 percent ever since. It's therefore both surprising and extremely disappointing that that same approach isn't being seen in the films. The Lego Movie's most kick-arse character was Elizabeth Banks' Wyldstyle, yet she was the only notable female in an otherwise male-driven story whose live action component centred upon a father/son bonding experience. Lego Batman, too, included only one notable female character in Rosario Dawson's Batgirl, and focused on the relationship between Bruce Wayne and the orphan boy Dick Grayson. Now we have Lego Ninjago, which not only suffers from a dearth of female characters but again deals largely with the father/son relationship between Garmadon and his estranged kid Lloyd. The only bright light in this situation is the announcement that The Lego Movie sequel will focus specifically on gender issues and the way boys and girls play with the toys in different ways. Solid fun for the kids and amusing enough to keep adults interested, whilst The Lego Ninjago Movie is the weakest entry in the franchise, it's still entertaining enough to satisfy. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJBS1ogEVHE
Forget tats, magicians, superheroes and spinning tops. From Memento to The Prestige to his Batman trilogy, all have served director Christopher Nolan well. But in his latest film, nothing more than the sound and fury of war, and the anguish plastered across soldiers' faces, is needed to get his message across. If Inception famously gave audiences dreams within dreams, then Dunkirk delivers nightmares within nightmares — with the added tension of knowing that, for the first time in Nolan's career, the events seen on screen were inspired by reality. And yet, there's a difference between bleak and dispiriting in Nolan's take on the mass military evacuation of northern France during the Second World War. It was code-named Operation Dynamo, but became better known as the Miracle of Dunkirk — and indeed, those two names serve as a rather handy guide to this movie's approach. Demonstrating a mastery of sound and vision, Dunkirk is devastatingly dynamic in its depiction of troops endeavoring to survive the carnage of combat, but remains a thoughtful portrait of human resilience and camaraderie as well. Real life proves soothing as well as scary, as Nolan balances tenacity with terror, fortitude with fear, and bravery with brutality. For those in need of a history refresher, Dunkirk details the attempts to rescue more than 400,000 men stranded on the titular beach in May 1940. German forces had fenced them in by land, while planes attacked by air, often blowing away navy ships trying to take the British back to safety across the English channel. Nolan flits between the three perspectives, spending a week on the ground, a day in the ocean and an hour flying above. Young privates (played by the likes of Fionn Whitehead and Harry Styles) try to stay alive on the shore; a civilian boat captained by Dawson (Mark Rylance) and his son Peter (Tom Glynn-Carney) heads into the fray to help bring soldiers home; and two Spitfire pilots (Tom Hardy and Jack Lowden) patrol the skies to ward off further bombings. As jam-packed as it may seem, the description above doesn't even scratch the surface of the film's complexities. Being told how Dunkirk's narrative explores the events in question is nothing compared to seeing and hearing Nolan's work in action. Shooting on IMAX and 65mm film, cinematographer Hoyte Van Hoytema makes the furrowed brows and piercing eyes of the movie's many men as much of a spectacle as swooping aircraft, capsized boats and lines upon lines of troops crowding the coastline. Favouring ticking clocks as much as droning instruments, composer Hans Zimmer unleashes a symphony of suspense that's as effective in its loudest moments as it is when it crashes into silence. This is chair-shaking, nerve-shredding, eye-popping cinema with a capital C. At the same time, Nolan tempers his film's epic scale with moments of intimacy and introspection. While those two extremes sound mutually exclusive, simultaneously conveying both the broad scope and the personal impact of war is what makes Dunkirk so immersive, and so compelling. Unrelenting from start to finish, there's never a moment that's easy to watch, but there's never one devoid of hope either. This is an astonishing feat of storytelling, aesthetics and emotion, one from which you will not be able to look away. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yJ9J1FgA0A8
Bill and George has closed down. Not long ago, during the Surry Hills Festival, the former artists' workspace and sometime venue held its farewell party, a week after a jumble sale to get rid of everything it's former residents couldn't take away with them. Earlier artist space Lanfranchi's famously closed with a bit of a bacchanal. Bill and George's last party was vivacious, but a bit more low key. What working artists will do without inner city spaces like her former workspace is a big deal, according to writer, artist, creative director and space-runner Bek Conroy. At the end of her time in Bill and George, Concrete Playground chatted with her about the history of the space, as she hands back the keys and closes the door for the final time. What is the life of a creative space? For Bill and George, five years. The space occupied a Redfern warehouse loft, around the corner from Prince Alfred Park. Walking up a fire escape staircase you'd find yourself in a welcoming, but off-centre, space that encompassed artist workrooms, a kitchen and a long central common room/sometime performance space. Out the back, at the other end of this industrial complex, is a light-filled central courtyard ringed by terraces of cheap accommodation. Like most artist spaces Bill and George had originally faced a dilemma: fringe properties are cheaper and the vagaries of cheap real estate give you a bit more leeway. (Lan Franchi's saw the upside of thus: "A regular landlord would not have put up with the kind of stuff we were doing.") But since artists are part of the gentrifying wave in a city, their presence bumps up the price. So they, in turn, get bumped out by the rising rents. Or — as was the case for Bill and George — they find themselves staring at starkly more expensive options at the end of a five year lease. Artists bring the vibe that brings investors. Because of this, government funding should be helping artists, says Conroy, talking about the recent TAFE funding cuts to art, because there's a return for the investment: "If anything, an intelligent city would be increasing funding around investing in it because they're precisely the areas that are going to bring lucrative accumulation of wealth." Bill and George has seen good times and rockier ones in the time since it opened. It's been a vibrant art space occupied by working artists and other arts professionals from around Sydney. The space wasn't on the radar unless you moved with a certain crowd, went to the right festival or knew one of the artists. But it's been an icon among its generation of art spaces. When it first opened, the South Sydney Herald wrote about Bek Conroy — the charismatic and loquacious woman who, more than anyone, became synonymous with the space — as a "veteran" of an art scene that had then recently "lost a number of artist-run initiatives like the Wedding Circle and Pelt in Chippendale, Space 3 and Lan Franchis". When I talked to her five years later, in a now-empty corner office of the same space, she was downbeat about letting go of the work that the collective had put into maintaining and improving the site. "It's sad that we have to leave behind all of our collective labour." When the gallery signed a five year lease in 2007 it was in a pretty different state. "It was dark, because there was no electricity. It was just disgusting. There were dead cats, dead rats. There was about a ten centimetre layer of pigeon shit." It took five men seven days to clear the pigeon shit. Then they installed a kitchen, cleaned the walls, refitted the empty bathrooms, installed their own security grills reconnected the water and started building partitions. Five people were central to founding the space: Conroy, Mark Taylor, Caitlin Newtown-Broad, Clare Perkins and Hosannah Heinrich. They started looking for a location in April 2006 and signed the lease in 2007. "We came in here and it was pretty much love at first sight." says Conroy. They borrowed $25,000 to cover renovation, and the bond. The directors also put in a month's rent each, as starter money. To begin with, they used the space as a venue. Kaz Therese curated Kiss Club, Heinrich ran tango milongas and the second Imperial Panda Festival staged the Ballad of Backbone Joe. But the decision to fly under radar came at a cost. For the third Imperial Panda Festival, Bill and George was due to host local stars the Brown Council, but was tipped off that the council knew that they were running a "multifunction art space". The City of Sydney was one of Imperial Panda's sponsors. Twelve days out, they had to cancel. The cease-and-desist letter came soon after. So they started hosting smaller, semi-private events. An Ampersand launch (Alice Gage had been running Bill and George's small press library until Ampersand got off the ground). Meet the artist. Bedtime stories fundraisers. Kiss Club moved offsite. The space had actually been in the process of lodging a DA. It was, eventually, left unsubmitted. They couldn't get all parties on board. Running unofficially had been a simple decision. "If you can get away with not doing it, you're much better doing that. Once you start having to comply with stuff, then you actually are set up so, if you don't comply, you get penalised. Whereas doing it without a DA, you only risk getting penalised. I mean, you get penalised either way." Conroy reckons that to have run it completely legally would have cost them up to $100,000. Four times their starting budget. Alcohol licenses, public liability: these were similar issues to those overcome with difficulty by contemporary (performance) space the Red Rattler. During its lifetime Bill and George's reach was pretty wide. Interviewing Conroy for this piece, the space began to seem omnipresent. As well having met Conroy through mutual friends, I found I knew one of the current residents and two more of its founding members. One of these, Taylor, I knew especially well via the Sydney Latin American Film Festival. I'm sure other people have found themselves similarly entangled with the space. It's not an unpleasant feeling. What's happening to the former tenants? Some are looking for new workspaces. "Alex, one of the artists here," says Conroy "He's moving to a new warehouse in Marrickville. People are temporarily setting up. People are storing their stuff at their parents' house. I mean, these are mid-career artists who are doing this shit. I mean, this is terrible." And, like other professionals working around the city, it gets worse when you ask about where people live away from the workplace. It's not just a few who lack a reliable residence. According to Conroy, almost none of them do. "No one here has a reliable place to live. There is one artist who's recently acquired property. One. He inherited it." And on the end of Bill and George? "I think it will definitely leave a hole. I think it will be replaced. The turn over happens. We accept that. That's part of the changing landscape. But the worry for us, and for every artist in Sydney, is the pace at which that is happening. [The end of a space] fragments the community. Every time. It haemorrhages resources. It haemorrhages people. "The wealth of the city is heavily contingent on creatives remaining in the city. You can't buy in that sort of organic culture. Land value has to come down in the CBD. Otherwise, we are going to lose artists. They're just going to leave. They are already leaving the city. And that's the position I'm in. I'm looking toward moving to Detroit." So that's what's next for Conroy, the CBD, Marrickville or Detroit? "Yeah." she says.
With the innocence and energy of youth, six-year-olds Moonee (Brooklynn Prince), Scooty (Christopher Rivera) and Jancey (Valeria Cotto) spend their sunshine-filled days running around their Florida neighbourhood. It's a jubilant time for the cheeky, cheerful, unsupervised trio who aren't old enough to have any worries, full of ice cream, pool dips and trips through abandoned houses. Disney World looms nearby, its fireworks often blossoming above, while the industry surrounding the theme park — oversized fast food joints, discount outlets and souvenir-shops — is all part of their playground. And although the mischievous kids don't attend school even when classes are in session, they know how to make the most of their summer. So it is, with affection, exuberance and the sounds of Kool & the Gang's 'Celebration', that writer-director Sean Baker (Tangerine) tells their story. The acclaimed filmmaker focuses in on Moonee and her young mother Halley (Bria Vinaite), with much of the movie favouring the rebellious girl's perspective. Lush widescreen visuals captured in 35mm abound, alongside personality-filled close-ups that capture a sense of youthful adventure. Crucially, however, Baker doesn't shy away from the darker side of his protagonist's lives. While vibrant, The Florida Project casts its unblinkered view over spitting at cars, selling knock-off perfumes, begging for extensions on the rent, fighting with the authorities, trifling with crime and doing whatever it takes to make ends meet. That's everyday existence in The Magic Castle, the purple-hued week-by-week hotel that's home to Orlando's poor and battling. Suffice it to say, it's a far cry from Disney's Magic Kingdom. That gap — that chasm — between the haves and the have-nots is impossible to miss. But Baker isn't interested in delivering a lecture or serving up a colourful piece of poverty porn. In much the same way he did with the iPhone-shot Tangerine, which followed a pair of trans sex workers in Los Angeles, the director's latest effort both depicts and embraces a group of people and a way of life rarely seen elsewhere, all without judging or sugar-coating. It's a film that understands that Moonee's antics are magical to her because she's never known anything else. Indeed, if every filmmaker looked at the world in the same way as Baker, we'd be living in a much kinder and more empathetic place. He also receives considerable assistance from his largely inexperienced and non-professional cast, with the movie's devotion to detail seeing Prince kick-start her career with the kind of complex performance actors five times her age or more aren't often able to muster. Vinaite, meanwhile, makes her debut after Baker found her via Instagram, proving lively, spirited and soulful as a mother who treats her kid more as a friend and co-conspirator than a daughter. Finally, there's Willem Dafoe. One of just a handful of recognisable faces in the picture, and on course to win a thoroughly-deserved Oscar for his efforts, Dafoe doesn't steal the show from Prince and Vinaite, but supports them with grace and sensitivity. As the Magic Castle's exhausted but understanding manager Bobby, the veteran actor delivers a perfect supporting turn — making everyone around him shine brighter but never jumping into their spotlight. Made with clear eyes, an open heart and a willingness to show both the highs and lows of life on Florida's margins, Baker's latest isn't the kind of film that makes it to cinemas every day. It's an honest, accessible, compassionate account of low-rent troubles and tussles – a tale that's tender, tragic and joyous with a knockout ending that's both devastating and beautiful. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nv5wCO0huEA
In this feature, Concrete Playground goes off the beaten track to visit five inspiring projects re-imagining our city and eroding the barrier between art and everyday life. By taking dead patches of urban space and transforming them into creative destinations, these artists are reinvigorating the barren, the forgotten and the just plain boring. Elizabeth Street Gallery One night last month, a collective of photographers installed forty large-scale photographs on a car park wall in the centre of Sydney. Most people saw this stretch of bricks as a blight on the cityscape, but Andrew Quilty and his colleagues saw the potential for a street block gallery that reversed urban decay. They went ahead and installed large-scale photographs on the wall without seeking permission from the City of Sydney. They just thought it needed to be done. Quilty says the secret to the crew's guerrilla tactics was donning official looking high-visibility vests while installing - passing police barely glanced at them, let alone questioned them. Only once the photographs were up did the team notify the council. Quilty says "the message went up through the ranks and eventually got to [Lord Mayor] Clover [Moore], and that day, they gave us the thumbs up. They notified the graffiti busters not to touch the gallery." Quilty says Moore "wants to turn it into a permanent fixture in the city, and we'd be keen to play some part in part. For the time being we have no intention of taking what's up there down. "We're not precious about the work, we're quite aware of the fact that its on the street and its open to graffiti and the elements. We're happy to see it in its transient nature. We're happy to see it replaced with something else eventually." Conductor's Project This new micro-gallery is split between Museum and St James Stations. Supported by the NSW Transport Rail Corp, Conductor’s Project utilises a series of previously blank glass display cabinets to offer almost 6000 commuters a tiny injection of contemporary art on their journey from home to work and back. Beyond it’s innovative use of empty space, the curatorial line-up is assured, engaging and thoughtful. The space has been occupied by local artists Phil James and Remnim Alexander Tayco, and currently houses the work of Justin Balmain. Alaska Projects Until October 2011, the former mechanic’s office in a King’s Cross car park was abandoned and barren. The tiny room and the patch of concrete around it is now home to Alaska Projects, an artist-run initiative that offers free, accessible exhibition space to Australian artists. Alaska requires a sense of adventure from its audiences: an off-street, car-dodging trek down a parking lot ramp, into an elevator, and across the fluoro-lit car park floor eventually leads you to the visual arts space. A yellow strip of paint still runs through the middle of the gallery floor, an ode to the space’s humble beginnings. Alaska has recently expanded beyond its regular contemporary art cycle into a range of film and music programs, including an monthly classical music series, “Musical Alaska”. An evening of Andy Warhol films, electro outfit Collarbones, the Sydney Symphony Vanguard and classical music chameleons Ooi and Quartet2100 have all lent warmth to the cold, grey concrete space. Renew Australia When Marcus Westbury’s Renew Newcastle project started, there were a hundred and fifty boarded up shopfronts in the city’s CBD. The project, which temporarily installs artists and small businesses in vacant commercial spaces, had an immediate impact: business and property owners say it increased foot traffic and brought life and buzz to Newcastle's centre. It also gave artists the opportunity to exhibit, experiment and work for as long as the properties were vacant. Renew Australia is the expansion of this initial project, taking over dead sites across the country. It’s a real test of the broadmindedness of real estate agents and property owners, but all indicators show that they’re up to the challenge: three new large-scale spaces have just been announced across NSW and Victoria. Drew Pettifer's Still Revolting This art project was part of SafARI 2012, a grassroots festival of emerging and unrepresented artists that flits between galleries and spaces alongside the Sydney Biennale. This time, SafARI went off the grid almost entirely with Drew Pettifer’s “Still Revolting” series. The Melbourne-based artist posted his large-scale works on brick walls across inner Sydney in a cross-cultural collision of high and low art. It requires a lot of confidence to paste up your art, poster-style, with the knowledge that it could be torn down and rolled over by the next week’s batch of gig advertisements. But it worked. The egalitarian exhibition method melded perfectly with the work’s thematic concerns of sexual equality and the gay rights movement’s history.
Sydneysiders have spent plenty of time in their own castles over the past two years. Now, with the city out of lockdown, it's time to mosey through a giant inflatable version instead. From Friday, November 13–Sunday, December 26, the city will welcome a luminous installation comprised of a cluster of colourful arches — as created by multidisciplinary studio ENESS. Called Sky Castle, the towering installation is popping up in Darling Harbour, filling it with colour. The arches are designed to reflect a rainbow — and to bring a spot of brightness to the city after its tough experiences during the pandemic, just like rainbows do after storms. Yes, that is what everyone could use right about now. The arches are interactive, too, changing hues as you move through them. As well as vivid tones, Sky Castle also includes a xylophone soundscape, which changes while you're wandering throughout as well. Head to Tumbalong Park out the front of the ICC between 10am–10pm each day until Boxing Day to experience the free art installation. Images: Zhu Rui.
One of 2023's most-anticipated films may not play in many Australian cinemas, but it will enjoy its Aussie premiere at Sydney's biggest moviegoing occasion of the year. That flick: Strange Way of Life, the latest work by inimitable Spanish filmmaker Pedro Almodóvar (Parallel Mothers). It's a 30-minute short, hence the fact that it may not show on too many big screens Down Under — and it's also a queer western starring Ethan Hawke (Moon Knight) and Pedro Pascal (The Last of Us). Almodóvar? Hawke? Pascal? Queer western? Yes, that's Strange Way of Life, which is why it's such a must-see. It'll make its Australian debut at this year's Sydney Film Festival, heading to our shores straight from premiering at Cannes, and joining the fest's already stacked lineup and hefty array of titles that first bowed at the prestigious French event. In this bite-sized film, Sheriff Jake (Hawke) and rancher Silva (Pascal) share a history, working together as hired gunmen a quarter-century ago. Then, circumstances bring them back together; however, a reunion isn't the only reason they've crossed paths again. "The strange way of life referred in the title alludes to the famous fado by Amalia Rodrigues, whose lyrics suggest that there is no stranger existence than the one that is lived by turning your back on your own desires," explains Almodóvar. [caption id="attachment_904684" align="alignnone" width="1920"] HyperFocal: 0[/caption] Strange Way of Life will play for one session only, on the festival's closing day of Sunday, June 18 — the same date that Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, which also initially premiered at Cannes, will take the official closing-night slot. "Sydney Film Festival is delighted to offer our audiences this exclusive Australian-premiere screening of Strange Way of Life. We wanted to offer something truly special to help close out our 70th anniversary Festival, and what could beat the closing lineup of the 2023 Palm d'Or winner Anatomy of a Fall, master auteur Pedro Almodóvar's much hyped western short and then finally the Australian Premiere of Indiana Jones and The Dial of Destiny?" said Sydney Film Festival Director Nashen Moodley. Tickets to Strange Way of Life cost just $10, and are bound to sellout fast. Check out the trailer for Strange Way of Life below: Sydney Film Festival 2023 runs from Wednesday, June 7–Sunday, June 18 at various Sydney cinemas — head to the festival website for further information and tickets.
Prepare to stare at the moon in all of its glory — up close, without a telescope and without zooming into space. Prepare to get excited about Marvel's latest Disney+ series, too, all at the same place. When you're releasing a streaming show called Moon Knight, bringing the moon to Australia — to Melbourne's Federation Square, to be specific — is one huge, eye-catching and attention-grabbing way to promote it. So, that's just what the Mouse House has done. Luke Jerram's Museum of the Moon isn't new to our shores, having popped up on the Gold Coast, in Sydney and in Melbourne before; however, this time it's here in the name of superhero worship. If you're new to the Museum of the Moon, UK-based artist Jerram's creation is a detailed installation that's suspended to look like it's floating — in this case, beneath Fed Square's Atrium. It measures seven metres in diameter and features renderings of the celestial body's surface based on NASA imagery, so it's as intimate and intricate a look as you're going to get without rocketing off to take one small step and giant leap across the real thing. The massive sculpture has been touring the world since 2016, displaying in New York, Hong Kong, Mumbai and plenty of spots around Europe. Adding its latest Melbourne stint to its orbit, it'll be on display from Tuesday, March 29–Friday, April 15. The looming artwork recreates the moon at a scale of approximately 1:500,000, with each centimetre equating to five kilometres of the lunar surface. And if you're wondering just how elaborate the 120dpi imagery is, the high-resolution NASA photograph that it uses is 21 metres wide, and was taken by by a satellite carrying the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter Camera. The spherical sculpture is lit from within, too, so it'll be adding a glow to Fed Square across its three-week stopover. It also combines its imagery and light with a surround sound piece created by composer and sound designer Dan Jones, and just how each venue displays it is up to them. Basically, it's never the exact same installation twice — so even if you've seen it before, it's worth a repeat visit. [caption id="attachment_716830" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Neil James.[/caption] Sadly, you won't find Oscar Isaac at the Museum of the Moon — but Moon Knight, the Isaac-led show that's inspired this lunar delight's latest Aussie installation, does hit Disney+ on Wednesday, March 30. The Dune, Scenes From a Marriage and The Card Counter star plays Steven Grant/Marc Spector, who has a dissociative identity disorder as well as a sleeping disorder, and also becomes the conduit for the Egyptian moon god Khonshu. Already dealing with multiple distinctive identities and not being able to tell the difference between being awake and asleep, his role as the moon god's offsider doesn't go down smoothly, unsurprisingly — especially when there's a sinister-looking figure played by Ethan Hawke (The Good Lord Bird) to deal with. Arriving more than a year into Marvel's new spate of Disney+ series, Moon Knight is the first one that doesn't overtly tie in with characters we've already seen in plenty of its past flicks. So, if it all sounds unfamiliar after the last 12 months or so served up WandaVision, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Loki and Hawkeye, there's a very good reason for that. Museum of the Moon is on display in Federation Square's Atrium, between ACMI and The Ian Potter Centre, 111 Flinders Street, Melbourne from Tuesday, March 29–Friday, April 15.
As far as Australian love goes, 2016 has been an epic year for English alt rockers The 1975. They kicked off with an Australian tour in January, which sold out within minutes, while their second LP, I Like It When You Sleep For You Are So Beautiful Yet So Unaware Of It, smashed the charts, debuting at #1 on the ARIA and iTunes charts. Combining '80s sounds with a contemporary aesthetic, the album spawned hits 'Girls', 'The Sound' and 'Love Me'. Next up came sets at Coachella and Glastonbury, and a stack of other festivals are now lined up — from Chicago's Lollapalooza to Japan's Summer Sonic. There's more Splendour sideshow action where this came from. Check out our list of sideshows with tickets still available.
Move over wheat flour. Get outta here self-raising. And almond meal, coconut flour, rice flour, besan and all the rest. There's a new flour in town, and it's infinitely better than the rest of you finely-ground baking ingredients. And that's because it's got the greatest of special features: caffeine. Yes, it's coffee flour. Some smart cookie — Daniel Perlman, a biophysicist at Boston's Brandeis University — has devised a technique for milling green coffee beans to create a flour fit for baking. According to Eater, the process is different to roasting coffee beans, as it involves parbaking them at a lower temperature for a short period of time. The beans can then be turned into a finely milled flour, which is just the stuff needed for baking. The possibilities! While coffee flour sounds like a dream ingredient and one we would add to absolutely everything and anything, it looks like it will actually be good for you as well. Perlman's parbaking process allows the coffee beans to retain their chlorogenic acid (an antioxidant), which is usually lost in the regular coffee brewing process. About four grams of the flour will be equivalent to a cup of coffee. And while we're really happy about the whole antioxidant thing, the prospect of caffeinated baked goods is the part we're really into. Just wait until cafes get their hot little hands on this. Via Eater.
The clock is ticking down, you've raided Pinterest, Etsy and every other homemade goods website you can find, and you've still got nothing. It seems like you're stuck with getting a cheesy Happy Mother's Day card, but don't lose hope — there's a last-minute market that you can go to. Porteño's Mother's Day Market on April 29 is here to save the day, or at least try to. Porteño's is a market that's all about celebrating local creatives, designers and shop owners, and this is the perfect time to grab something homemade and distinctive for your mum. There'll be renaissance and baroque-style jewellery from Gabriella Luchini, prints and portraits from The Sweets Workshop, boutique and au naturale soaps from The Hoppery, and ceramics from Gretel Corrie — with each piece is inspired from organic shapes and colours found in nature. Since the market kicks off at 10am, you're going to need your morning fix, so the market has set up several snack booths throughout. 212 Blu will providing the freshest espressos, boozy arvo drinks will be on offer from Archie Rose Distillery, and Continental Delicatessen will bring along canned, smoked meats (plus lager cravings).
When blissed out, soon-to-be-married American couple Nica (Hani Furstenberg) and Alex (Gael Garcia Bernal), set off on a hiking adventure in Georgia's remote Caucasus Mountains, they have little idea that their seemingly idealistic world is about to be profoundly challenged. To all appearances, the two share an unshakeable connection — spiritually at ease yet sexually charged. Nica is spirited and independent, and Alex adores her. They toy with language games, compete playfully over who is fastest or strongest, and are in free pursuit of their mutual wanderlust. Local guide Dato (Georgian actor and real-life expert mountaineer Bidzina Gujabidze) leads them through one breathtaking scene after another. Then, halfway through the film, a single event (not to be delineated here, for fear of giving too much away), corrupts the couple's bond, raising questions of trust, betrayal, and guilt. Russian-born, American-raised director Julia Loktev's intention is to carry us into the film's mental and physical world, one in which time seems to stretch on forever and all conviction has been thrown into doubt. Thanks to Palace Films, we have 10 double passes to give away to see The Loneliest Planet. To be in the running, subscribe to Concrete Playground (if you haven't already) then email us with your name and postal address at hello@concreteplayground.com.au. Read our full review here. https://youtube.com/watch?v=SIIMFHcC1Fc
Dig out the Thai fisherman pants from the back of your closet, Woodford Folk Festival is back for another year. If you've never been, Woodford is the perfect place to disconnect from the daily grind, become one with nature (read: mud) and check out some of Australians best musicians with a chilled and festive vibe. This year's offering is no exception; the lineup has 'best summer ever' written all over it. Festival mainstays like The Cat Empire and Lior will be back once again. They will also be joined by an A-list crowd of Australian ladies like Kate Miller-Heidke, Bertie Blackman, and Mia Dyson. But the real crowdpleaser will come from The Violent Femmes. Who wouldn't want to listen to 'Blister in the Sun' while dancing in the wilderness in the height of summer? Bliss. Though The Violent Femmes may be a little past their prime, there will also be a bunch of up and coming musicians on stage. Husky and Hiatus Kaiyote will be representing Melbourne talent and The Cairos will be playing to what's basically a home crowd. With over 400 acts jammed into the full program, Woodford is all about discovering new sounds. As well as music, the festival covers visual arts, circus, comedy, vaudeville and dance. Set up camp, let your hair get knotty, and roam the makeshift tarpaulin towns of this super chilled festival. It's time to channel your inner hippy. WOODFORD FOLK FESTIVAL 2014 LINEUP: Archie Roach Bertie Blackman The Cairos The Cat Empire Christine Anu Darren Middleton (ex-Powderfinger) Del Barber The East Pointers Hiatus Kiayote Husky Jeff Lang Jenn Grant John Smith Kate Miller-Heidke Lau Led Kaapana Lior Matt Anderson Mia Dyson Nahko and Medicine for the People Shooglenifty Sticky Fingers Tiny Ruins The Topp Twins Violent Femmes We Two Thieves Woodford Folk Festival is on from December 27 - January 1. Tickets are on sale now.
We could all use a holiday right about now. That's proven true for the past 18 months or so, and the urge to head off on a getaway is only rising. Exactly when Australians will be able to travel between every state without navigating strict border restrictions isn't yet known, and neither is when the vaccine rate will hit 80-percent nationwide, allowing international travel again — but, in preparation for both of those things happening, the Marriott hotel chain is running a giveaway that'll get you away from home for almost a whole month. The first catch: obviously, you won't be travelling until that's permitted again. The second caveat: this competition is only open to folks who've had both COVID-19 jabs. It's Marriott's way of helping encouraging vaccination, given that so much about Australia's plan to move forward during the pandemic — and to open up the travel and hospitality industries again — is based how many people have been fully vaxxed. If you've rolled up your sleeves twice already — or when you do — you can enter Marriott's 'Ultimate Marriott Bonvoy Package' contest to score one night's free accommodation at each of the 28 participating Marriott Bonvoy Hotels and Resorts sites in Australia, New Zealand, Fiji and New Caledonia. Yes, winning this will get you zipping beyond our own shores. And, in terms of bunking down, you'll be staying at spots under a range of different Marriott brands. That includes The Ritz Carlton, W Hotels and JW Marriott — and the Sheraton, Marriott and Westin hotels, too. Also covered: some Courtyard by Marriott and Four Points spots; Signature boutique properties such as AC Hotels and Aloft; and Australia's first Luxury Collection property, The Tasman, which is set to open in Hobart this December. [caption id="attachment_815560" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Melbourne Marriott Docklands, Dianna Snape[/caption] Five winners will be selected, with each able to use their prize once borders reopen. To go in the running, you need to head to the competition website, fill in your details and explain what travelling means to you in 25 words — and also upload a pdf of your vaccine certificate, which'll then be destroyed on Marriott's end once the company has verified that you're fully vaccinated. You'll need to be a member of Marriott Bonvoy as well, but you can sign up for free while you're on the site. Unsurprisingly, this is a one-entry-per-person deal, and you'll be able to travel — subject to border and travel restrictions — between January 1, 2022–June 1, 2023. It does only cover accommodation, too, so getting there and anything you spend while you're away is on your own dime. And if you're wondering when you can start getting serious about packing your bags, winners will be notified by December 6, 2021. For more information about Marriott's 'Ultimate Marriott Bonvoy Package' competition, or to enter, head to the hotel chain's website.
Lock up your bowler hats and crack pipes, Babyshambles are coming to town! Already announced as part of a whopping Splendour in the Grass lineup, Pete Doherty and co have added a run of sideshows to take place in Melbourne, Sydney, Adelaide and Perth. Originally a side project for Doherty when he took some time off from his first band, The Libertines, Babyshambles have had a tumultuous existence, releasing two occasionally brilliant albums while on a rollercoaster of substance abuse, no shows and lineup changes. But when they are at the top of their game, there are few better writers of Britpop than Pete Doherty — just listen to 'Fuck Forever' or 'Albion' for proof. Who even knows if they'll be able to keep it together throughout the tour, but with a new album planned and Doherty seemingly in good health (maybe living with Macaulay Culkin helps?), these sideshows could be something special. Thurs 25 July – Palace Theatre – Melbourne Fri 26 July – Splendour In The Grass – Byron Bay - SOLD OUT Sun 28 July – Enmore - Sydney Mon 29 July – HQ - Adelaide Wed 31 July – Metro City – Perth https://youtube.com/watch?v=IpeJFVvwz6A
In celebration of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander culture held on the traditional lands of the Gadigal people in Sydney, Koori Radio 93.7FM presents the annual Yabun Festival. The largest one-day celebration of its kind, the festival seeks to showcase some of the best Indigenous music, speakers and creative talent in the country. Get cultured in traditional dance as performers kick up the dust; wander the market stalls of Corroboree Ground; or be enlightened by some of Australia's leading artists, authors and thinkers at the SpeakOut Tent.
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. BERGMAN ISLAND Each filmmaker sits in the shadows of all who came before them — and as cinema's history lengthens, so will those penumbras. With Bergman Island, French writer/director Mia Hansen-Løve doesn't merely ponder that idea; she makes it the foundation of her narrative, as well a launching pad for a playful and resonant look at love, work and the creative wonders our minds conjure up. Her central duo, two filmmakers who share a daughter, literally tread where the great Ingmar Bergman did. Visiting Fårö, the island off Sweden's southeastern coast that he called home and made his base, Chris (Vicky Krieps, Old) and Tony Sanders (Tim Roth, The Misfits) couldn't escape his imprint if they wanted to. They don't dream of trying, as they're each searching for as much inspiration as they can find; however, the idea of being haunted by people and their creations soon spills over to Chris' work. Bergman's Scenes From a Marriage has already been remade, albeit in a miniseries that arrived on the small screen a couple of months after Bergman Island premiered at the 2021 Cannes Film Festival — but across one half of Hansen-Løve's feature, that title would fit here as well. Her resume has long been filled with intimate looks at complicated relationships, including in 2009's Father of My Children and 2011's Goodbye First Love, with her movies both peering deeply and cutting deep as they unfurl the thorny intricacies of romance. Accordingly, when Chris and Tony find themselves sleeping in the bedroom where Bergman shot the original Scenes From a Marriage, it's a loaded and layered moment several times over. That said, the thing about willingly walking in someone else's footsteps is that you're not bound to taking the exact same path — as Bergman Island's characters learn, and as the filmmaker that's brought them to the screen clearly already knows. Turning in finessed and thoughtful performances, Krieps and Roth bring a lived-in dynamic to the film's first key couple, with the chaos that swirls from being in the same line of work but chasing disparate aims not just flowing but bubbling in their paired scenes. He's the kind of Bergman fan that's adamant about going on the Bergman safari, a real-life thing that all visitors can do, for instance, while she prefers being shown around informally by young film student Hampus (acting debutant Hampus Nordenson). But their Fårö escapades only fill half of Bergman Island, because the movie also brings Chris' budding script to life. She tells Tony the tale, seeking his assistance in working out an ending, but he's too immersed in Bergman worship to truly pay attention. The feature itself, Hansen-Løve and the audience all savour the details, though — eagerly so. There, in this film-within-a-film, 28-year-old director Amy (Mia Wasikowska, Blackbird) visits an island, too — "a place like this," Chris advises, and one that visibly resembles Fårö. She dances to ABBA to cement the Swedish ties, and also spends her time on the locale's shores wading through matters of art and the heart. The catalyst for the latter: her ex Joseph (Anders Danielsen Lie, The Worst Person in the World). They're both attending a wedding of mutual friends, and their lengthy, passionate and volatile history quickly pushes to the fore. While they've each moved on, they're also forever connected, especially when placed in such close quarters. Accordingly, that tumultuous relationship is as bedevilled by other creative endeavours, and also by the thrall of history, as Chris' quest to put pen to paper. And, via the movie-inside-a-movie concept, there's an evocative sense of mirroring that couldn't spring any firmer from Bergman himself. Read our full review. WASH MY SOUL IN THE RIVER'S FLOW A silent hero and a rowdy troublemaker. That's what Ruby Hunter calls Archie Roach, her partner in life and sometimes music, then characterises herself. She offers those words casually, as if she's merely breathing, with an accompanying smile and a glint in her eyes as she talks. They aren't the only thoughts uttered in Wash My Soul in the River's Flow, which intersperses concert and rehearsal clips with chats with Hunter and Roach, plus snippets of biographical details from and recollections about their lives as intertitles, and then majestic footage of the winding Murray River in Ngarrindjeri Country, where Hunter was born, too. Still, even before those two-word descriptions are mentioned, the film shows how they resonate within couple's relationship. Watching their dynamic, which had ebbed and flowed over three-plus decades when the movie's footage was shot in 2004, it's plain to see how these two icons of Australian music are dissimilar in personality and yet intertwine harmoniously. Every relationship is perched upon interlocking personalities: how well they complement each other, where their differences blend seamlessly and how their opposing traits spark challenges in the best possible ways. Every song, too, is a balance of disparate but coordinated pieces. And, every ecosystem on the planet also fits the bill. With Hunter and Roach as its focus, Wash My Soul in the River's Flow contemplates all three — love, music and Country — all through 2004 concert Kura Tungar — Songs from the River. Recorded for the documentary at Melbourne's Hamer Hall, that gig series interlaced additional parts, thanks to a collaboration with Paul Grabowsky's 22-piece Australian Art Orchestra — and the movie that producer-turned-writer/director Philippa Bateman makes of it, and about two Indigenous stars, their experience as members of Australia's Stolen Generations, their ties to Country and their love, is equally, gloriously and mesmerisingly multifaceted. When is a concert film more than a concert film? When it's Wash My Soul in the River's Flow, clearly, which is named for one of Kura Tungar's tracks. Bateman could've just used her recordings of the legendary show, which won the 2005 Helpmann Award for Best Australian Contemporary Concert, and given everyone who wasn't there the chance to enjoy an historic event — and to bask in the now-late Hunter's on-stage glories more than a decade after her 2010 passing — but that was clearly just the starting point for her movie. With Roach as a producer, the documentary presents each of its songs as a combination of five key elements, all weaved together like the feather flower-dotted, brightly coloured headpiece that Hunter wears during the performance. With each tune, the film repeats the pattern but the emotion that comes with it inherently evolves, with the result akin to cycling through the earth's four seasons. First, a title appears on-screen, overlaid across breathtakingly beautiful images of the Murray and its surroundings, and instantly steeping every song in a spectacular place. From there, the Kura Tungar rendition of each tune segues into practice sessions with Grabowsky and the AAO of the same track, plus both text and on-the-couch chatter between Hunter and Roach that speaks to the context of, meaning behind and memories tied to each piece. Hunter's 'Daisy Chains, String Games and Knuckle Bones', which springs from her childhood, gets that treatment. Roach's unforgettable 'Took the Children Away' does, too. 'Down City Streets', as written by Hunter and recorded by Roach, also joins the lineup. The list goes on, and the power that each song possesses alone — which, given the talent and topics involved, is immense — only grows when packaged in such a layered manner. Read our full review. THE SOUVENIR: PART II In showbusiness, nepotism is as inescapable as movies about movies. Both are accounted for in The Souvenir: Part II. But when talents as transcendent as Honor Swinton Byrne, her mother Tilda Swinton and writer/director Joanna Hogg are involved — with the latter working with the elder Swinton since her first short, her graduation piece Caprice, back in 1986 before Honor was even born — neither family ties nor filmmaking navel-gazing feel like something routine. Why this isn't a surprise with this trio is right there in the movie's name, after the initial The Souvenir proved such a devastatingly astute gem in 2019. It was also simply devastating, following an aspiring director's romance with a charismatic older man through to its traumatic end. Both in its masterful narrative and its profound impact, Part II firmly picks up where its predecessor left off. In just her third film role — first working with her mum in 2009's I Am Love before The Souvenir and now this — Swinton Byrne again plays 80s-era filmmaking student Julie Harte. But there's now a numbness to the wannabe helmer after her boyfriend Anthony's (Tom Burke, Mank) death, plus soul-wearying shock after discovering the double life he'd been living that her comfortable and cosy worldview hadn't conditioned her to ever expect. Decamping to the Norfolk countryside, to her family home and to the warm but entirely upper-middle-class, stiff-upper-lip embrace of her well-to-do parents Rosalind (Swinton, The French Dispatch) and William (James Spencer Ashworth) is only a short-term solution, however. Julie's thesis film still needs to be made — yearns to pour onto celluloid, in fact — but that's hardly a straightforward task. As the initial movie was, The Souvenir: Part II is another semi-autobiographical affair from Hogg, with Swinton Byrne slipping back into her on-screen shoes. This time, the director doesn't just dive into her formative years four decades back, but also excavates what it means to mine your own life for cinematic inspiration — aka the very thing she's been doing with this superb duo of features. That's what Julie does as well as she works on the film's film-within-a-film, sections of which play out during The Souvenir: Part II's running time and are basically The Souvenir. Accordingly, viewers have now spent two pictures watching Hogg's protagonist lives the experiences she'll then find a way to face through her art, all while Hogg moulds her two exceptional — and exceptionally intimate and thoughtful — movies out of that exact process. Julie's graduation project is also an escape, given it's patently obvious that the kindly, well-meaning but somehow both doting and reserved Rosalind and William have been pushed out of their comfort zone by her current crisis. Helping their daughter cope with her heroin-addicted lover's passing isn't something either would've considered might occur, so they natter away about Rosalind's new penchant for crafting Etruscan-style pottery instead — using small talk to connect without addressing the obvious, as all families lean on at some point or another. They provide financing for Julie's film, too, in what proves the easiest part of her concerted efforts to hop back behind the lens and lose herself in her work. Elsewhere, an array of doubt and questions spring from her all-male film-school professors, and the assistance she receives from her classmates is quickly steeped in rivalries, envy and second-guessing. Read our full review. FACING MONSTERS "If you want the ultimate, you've got to be willing to pay the ultimate price." Uttered by Patrick Swayze in 90s surfing action flick Point Break, that statement isn't directly quoted in Facing Monsters. Still, when it comes to the underlying idea behind those words — that anything at its absolute pinnacle comes at a cost, especially seeking bliss hanging ten on giant swells — this new Australian documentary unquestionably rides the same wave. Directed by Bentley Dean, and marking his first movie in cinemas since 2015 Oscar-nominee Tanna, the film focuses on Kerby Brown, the Aussie slab surfer who is at his happiest atop the biggest breakers possible. He's turned hunting them into his life's mission — think Point Break's 50-year storm, also set in Australia, but every time that Kerby hops on a board — and Facing Monsters commits that pursuit to celluloid. Helming solo unlike on Tanna — which he co-directed with Martin Butler, as he did on prior documentaries Contact, First Footprints and A Sense of Self as well — Dean understands three key aspects to Kerby's story. The thrills, the spectacle and the calm: they're all accounted for here, including simply in the astonishing imagery that fills the film. There's no shortage of talk in Facing Monsters; Kerby himself, his brother and frequent partner-in-surf Cortney, his partner Nicole Jardine, and his parents Glenn and Nola all chat happily. But this movie makes much of its impact, and captures plenty that's pivotal, all via its visuals alone. Cinematographer Rick Rifici has long shot the sea as if it's an otherworldly space, including while working as a camera operator on Storm Surfers, as a water cinematographer on Breath, and as the underwater camera operator on Dirt Music, and he's as as crucial here as Kerby. The long, wide, lingering image that begins the film is one such unforgettable moment — essential and exceptional, too. Kerby floats in a sea of lush but rippling pink, face to the sky, his board strapped to his leg. It's a near-supernatural sight, and a transcendent one, but amid the unshakeably striking beauty of the shot, uncertainty also loiters. An unspoken query, too: is this a picture of bliss or bleakness? Next comes a quick cut, letting Kerby's bloody face and bandaged head fill the the screen instead, and making it instantly clear that his love of riding big waves has physical and severe consequences. The gorgeous visions return from there, and the intimacy as well — the latter largely flowing from talk from this point forward — but Facing Monsters' first frames truly do say it all. Indeed, it's noticeable that the remainder of the movie feels like it's paddling after this opening sensation and atmosphere. Facing Monsters is a documentary about chasing, of course — waves, obsessions, addictions, demons, solace and happiness alike. The dangerous nature of slab surfing plays out like a quest as much as an adventure, driving Kerby ever since he and Cortney got bored with the swells at Kalbarri in Western Australia, where they grew up, then starting seeking out bigger and bigger possibilities. That's there in the chatter as well as the imagery, in a film that aims to convey the what and why behind its subject's choices through immersion first and foremost. It's fitting, then, that watching Facing Monsters sometimes resembles riding high — when its visuals express everything they need to — and sometimes floats in shallower waters. Ensuring that audiences share the awe and wonder that Kerby experiences on his board is easy with Rifici's astounding help; diving deeper into exactly what else makes its point of focus tick, and has through swirls of drugs and booze, life-threatening incidents in the surf, and becoming a father, is a far more evasive task. BOOK OF LOVE In 2018's The Nightingale, Sam Claflin gave the performance of his career so far while playing thoroughly against type. As a British lieutenant in colonial-era Tasmania, he terrorised the film's female protagonist to a nerve-rattlingly distressing degree — and his work, just like the phenomenal feature he's in, isn't easy to watch. Book of Love, his latest movie, couldn't be more different; however, Claflin's portrayal could use even a sliver of the commitment he demonstrated four years back. The film around him could, too. Here, he plays a floundering novelist who doesn't want to do a very long list of things, so it makes sense that he takes to the part with a dissatisfied attitude that drips with not only unhappiness, but pouting petulance. He's meant to be one of this dire rom-com's romantic leads, however, and he constantly looks like he'd rather be doing anything else. Author of The Sensible Heart, Claflin's Henry Copper is instantly as dour as his book sounds. It too is a romance, but he's proud of its sexlessness — to the point of boasting about it to bored would-be readers who definitely don't make a purchase afterwards. He's also seen using his novel as a pick-up line early in the movie, and that goes just as badly. In fact, his whole career seems to be a shambles, and the prim-and-proper Brit can't understand why. But he's also surprised when he's told that his latest has become a bestseller in Mexico, and he's hardly thrilled about the whirlwind promotional tour his brassy agent (Lucy Punch, The Prince) swiftly books him on. Upon arrival, where his local translator Maria Rodríguez (My Heart Goes Boom!) doubles as his minder, he's visibly displeased about everything he's asked to do — more so when he discovers that she's taken the liberty to spice up his work. Of course, Maria's revisions — a wholesale rewrite that plunges The Sensible Heart into erotic page-turner territory — are the sole reason that Mexican women are lining up at Henry's events to throw themselves at him. And with both his British-based and Mexican agents adamant that his publicity tour must go on, he's forced to grin and bear that truth as they take a road trip across the country. Henry and Maria are a chalk-and-cheese pair in a host of other ways, naturally, but apparently sparks can't help igniting in this contrived scenario. It's telling that BuzzFeed Studios is behind the film, the site earns a mention in the movie and its plot feels like a gif-heavy listicle from the outset. Indeed, based on how slight and stereotypical every aspect of Book of Love proves, writer/director Analeine Cal y Mayor (La Voz de un Sueño) and co-writer David Quantick (Veep) don't appear to have spent much time fleshing anything out beyond that potential starting point. Tired, not wired: that's the end result, including Book of Love's place in the current literary-focused subgenre of romantic flicks that's also spawned the 50 Shades movies, the After films and fellow forgettable 2022 release The Hating Game. Claflin's patent disinterest is the least of the feature's troubles given that its storyline is nonsensical, there's no sign of chemistry between its leads, the dialogue couldn't be flatter and the travelogue setup has already been overdone. The charismatic Rodríguez certainly deserves better, even if no one else involved inspires the same description solely based on their efforts here. She's stuck playing a character that's been given as much depth and texture as a full stop — the archetype: feisty put-upon single mother with big dreams but crushing responsibilities — but she's also the only part of the movie that feels remotely real. OFF THE RAILS In need of a bland and derivative friends-on-holidays flick that's painted with the broadest of strokes? Keen to dive once more into the pool of movies about pals heading abroad to scatter ashes and simultaneously reflect upon their current lot in life? Fancy yet another supposedly feel-good film that endeavours to wring humour out of culture clashes between English-speaking protagonists and the places they visit? Yearning for more glimpses of thinly written women getting their grooves back and realising what's important on a wild Eurotrip? Call Off the Rails, not that anyone should. Coloured with every cliche that all of the above scenarios always throw up, and also covered from start to finish in schmaltz, it's a travel-themed slog that no one could want to remember. A grab bag of overdone tropes and treacly sentiment, it also doubles as an ode to the songs of Blondie, which fill its soundtrack — but even the vocal stylings of the great Debbie Harry can't breathe vibrancy into this trainwreck. Alongside its woeful been-there-done-that plot, its lack of personality, its yearning to be the next Mamma Mia! and all those Blondie tracks — the prominence of which makes zero sense given how briefly and haphazardly each song, hits and deeper cuts alike from a lengthy list, are deployed — Off the Rails does have another claim to fame to its name. The British film also marks the last on-screen appearance of Kelly Preston, who passed away in mid-2020; however, it isn't the swansong that any actor would want. Her involvement does give the movie's messages about making the most of one's time, embracing what you love and keeping in touch with the people who matter while you can a bittersweet tone, but not enough to wash away its mix of dullness and overdone mawkishness. Or, to invest depth into what's largely 94 minutes of middle-aged travellers arguing about anything and everything. Once close, Kate (Jenny Seagrove, Peripheral), Liz (Sally Phillips, Blinded by the Light) and Cassie (Preston, Gotti) now just call on big occasions — and even then, they're barely there for each other. But when fellow pal Anna dies, they reunite at her funeral, and are asked to carry out her final wish by her mother (Belfast's Judi Dench, in a thankless cameo). The task: catching a train across Europe, through Paris to Girona, Barcelona and Palma in Spain, to recreate a backpacking jaunt the four took decades earlier. Specifically, they're headed to La Seu, a cathedral with stained-glass windows that look particularly spectacular when the sun hits at the right time (the film calls it "god's disco ball"). Anna already bought their Interrail passes, and her 18-year-old daughter Maddie (Elizabeth Dormer-Phillips, Fortitude) decides she'll join the voyage, too. Amid the bickering, which fills most of debut feature director Jules Williamson's scenes and screenwriter Jordan Waller's dialogue, the usual antics all roll out. Old feuds are unearthed, transport often goes awry every which way it can and the main middle-aged trio cause middle-aged women problems (getting drunk, getting lost, causing a scene in a boutique, delivering a baby and the like). Menopause earns some discussion, romance also springs — which is where the always-welcome but underused Franco Nero, aka cinema's original Django, comes in — and life lessons are ultimately learned. If that sounds tediously stock-standard on paper, it certainly plays out that way in a sunnily shot but always plodding ostensible comedy. Few performances could improve this plight, and Off the Rails' happily one-note efforts can't either, especially when its most interesting character and corresponding portrayal — courtesy of Dormer-Phillips as Maddie — keeps being pushed aside. 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 November 4, November 11, November 18 and November 25; December 2, December 9, December 16 and December 26; January 1, January 6, January 13, January 20 and January 27; February 3, February 10, February 17 and February 24; and March 3. You can also read our full reviews of a heap of recent movies, such as Eternals, The Many Saints of Newark, Julia, No Time to Die, The Power of the Dog, Tick, Tick... Boom!, Zola, Last Night in Soho, Blue Bayou, The Rescue, Titane, Venom: Let There Be Carnage, Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn, Dune, Encanto, The Card Counter, The Lost Leonardo, The French Dispatch, Don't Look Up, Dear Evan Hansen, Spider-Man: No Way Home, The Lost Daughter, The Scary of Sixty-First, West Side Story, Licorice Pizza, The Matrix Resurrections, The Tragedy of Macbeth, The Worst Person in the World, Ghostbusters: Afterlife, House of Gucci, The King's Man, Red Rocket, Scream, The 355, Gold, King Richard, Limbo, Spencer, Nightmare Alley, Belle, Parallel Mothers, The Eyes of Tammy Faye, Belfast, Here Out West, Jackass Forever, Benedetta, Drive My Car, Death on the Nile, C'mon C'mon, Flee, Uncharted, Quo Vadis, Aida?, Cyrano, Hive, Studio 666, The Batman and Blind Ambition.
As Australia continues to respond to the COVID-19 situation, getting cosy on your couch is becoming the norm. And, while you could take a break from the news of mass-gathering bans, self-isolation requirements, and event cancellations and postponements by indulging in pure escapism, it's completely natural and thoroughly understandable to swing your viewing choices in the other direction. No one alive has experienced a pandemic quite like this one before, but, thanks to decades of movies, we've watched similar events on-screen for years. And, based on how much everyone has been talking Steven Soderbergh's Contagion of late, movies about outbreaks and, yes, contagions are in high demand at the moment. We know you're seeking them out anyway, so we're here to help. Here are ten movies about pandemics, contagions and outbreaks that you can watch via Australian streaming platforms right now. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5UkXOj8u1Fo CONTAGION Steven Soderbergh is one of America's most prolific filmmakers, with everything from Cannes Palme d'Or winner Sex, Lies and Videotape to amusing heist flick Logan Lucky on his resume — and drug drama Traffic, which nabbed him the Best Director Oscar, too. But thanks to current events, Contagion will be the movie he'll be remembered for, with the 2011 thriller feeling eerily prophetic when revisited today. It all starts with a lawyer (Gwyneth Paltrow) returning from Hong Kong, then falling ill. In methodical style, Soderbergh then tracks the progression and the response. He enlists an enormous all-star cast to help, spanning Matt Damon, Jude Law, Marion Cotillard, Kate Winslet, Laurence Fishburne and Bryan Cranston — and his aim to make as realistic a movie as possible about a pandemic certainly strikes a chord in current circumstances. Available to stream on Google Play, iTunes and YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AgZ5goJibn0 OUTBREAK Over the next few years, once the cinema industry — and existence in general, of course — gets back to normal, a new big-screen genre is certain to emerge. Drawing upon real-life events is such a staple of filmmaking that a plethora of COVID-19 movies is inevitable. Using Ebola as its model, Outbreak did the same thing in the mid-90s. When a virus called Motaba starts wreaking havoc, staff from the United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention are forced to react. Starring Dustin Hoffman, Rene Russo, Donald Sutherland, Morgan Freeman, Cuba Gooding Jr and Patrick Dempsey, this disaster drama spends plenty of time within the two aforementioned organisations, if watching procedural action is what you're craving at present Available to stream on iTunes. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sFNPNT_4Qww I AM LEGEND When it came to updating Richard Matheson's 1954 book I Am Legend for the 21st century, enlisting Will Smith to play humanity's sole survivor was a logical choice. He wasn't the first to roam around the big screen in such desolate circumstances, with 1964's The Last Man on Earth putting horror icon Vincent Price in the same situation and 1971's The Omega Man tasking Charlton Heston with navigating isolation; however Smith was the thoroughly 2007 choice. And, playing a US Army virologist who sees the whole world turned into vampiric creatures after a genetically engineered measles virus turned lethal, he's one of the best things about I Am Legend. For folks interested in Heston's stint in the same situation, The Omega Man is also available to stream via Google Play, iTunes and YouTube as well. Available to stream on Stan. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7suz9ndPBHg 28 DAYS LATER These days, Danny Boyle is making 'what if?' rom-coms that ponder what life would be like without the Beatles, and Alex Garland is writing and directing moody sci-fi TV thrillers — but back in 2002, they joined forces to tackle a pandemic. And, marking their first proper collaboration after Boyle adapted Garland's best-selling novel The Beach for the big screen two years earlier, 28 Days Later still ranks among the best work on either's resume. Set in the aftermath of the accidental release of a highly contagious virus, the film's images of a desolated London instantly became iconic; however, this is a top-notch movie on every level. That includes its performances, with then-unknowns Cillian Murphy (A Quiet Place Part II) and Naomie Harris (the Bond franchise's current Moneypenny) finding the balance between demonstrating their characters' fierce survival instincts and their inherent vulnerability. Available to stream on Foxtel Now. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-gpxnI1tQM4 CARGO Australian cinema isn't immune to virus-driven movies — and 2017 post-apocalyptic horror flick Cargo is among the best of them. In this full-length adaptation of Ben Howling and Yolanda Ramke's Tropfest finalist short of the same name, the infection turns people into zombies within 48 hours, a situation that the Andy (Martin Freeman) and Kay (Susie Porter) want to avoid. Complicating matters: the fact that they have an infant daughter they'll do anything to protect. Already experienced at trekking across the landscape Down Under after starring in the New Zealand-shot Hobbit films, Freeman wanders across Australia determined to save his family, in a movie that also ponders both environmental factors and Indigenous culture as well. Available to stream on Netflix. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YMbSpnlOOtE THE ANDROMEDA STRAIN Michael Crichton's influence on popular culture is vast. The Jurassic Park franchise is still going almost three decades later, and Westworld (which is based on his 1972 movie) is enjoying quite the small-screen adaptation. Back in 1969, the author also contemplated what might happen if a deadly alien organism started infecting people on earth — and in 1971, The Andromeda Strain hit cinemas. The premise: after a satellite crashes near a small New Mexico town, almost all of its inhabitants die, with a team of scientists tasked with getting to the bottom of it. It's an unmistakably 70s affair, and a slick and solid film too. You might've come across the 2008 TV mini-series remake starring Benjamin Bratt, Viola Davis and Brooklyn Nine-Nine's Andre Braugher; however we recommend sticking with the original. Available to stream on Google Play, iTunes and YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C5ZtovQtG3s&feature=emb_logo WARM BODIES Pandemic movies and zombie movies often go hand-in-hand, as a number of entries on this list have already demonstrated. And, more often than not, they're grim, bleak and tense affairs — as is to be expected when the whole fate of the human race is at stake. Enter Warm Bodies, which isn't the first zombie comedy by any means, but both earns and owns the term 'zom-rom-com'. Here, R (Nicholas Hoult) is a member of the shuffling undead. Julie (Australian actress Teresa Palmer) is still alive. When they cross paths, he doesn't just bite into her flesh and she doesn't just kill him. This sweet and funny flick is based on the Isaac Marion-penned novel of the same name, and its characters' monikers should give an important detail away, with the influence of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet keenly felt. Available to stream on Foxtel Now and Stan. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y8RScNfgPh4 TWELVE MONKEYS Before Brad Pitt won the Best Supporting Actor Oscar for sauntering through Quentin Tarantino's vision of 1969-era Tinseltown in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, he was nominated in the same category back in 1996 for Twelve Monkeys. Deservedly so, too, with the star playing a mental patient in a post-apocalyptic version of 2035 — where a virus wiped out most of humanity four decades earlier. As offbeat as it is entertaining and eye-catching, this sci-fi thriller serves up exactly what anyone could hope for with Monty Python member and The Man Who Killed Don Quixote's Terry Gilliam behind the lens. For fans of cinema history, it's also an engaging update of Chris Marker's legendary 1962 short film La Jetée. And while Pitt steals the show, he has fine company, with 90s Bruce Willis in his element as well. Available to stream on Google Play, iTunes and YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zfeEhb4xnps THE NIGHT EATS THE WORLD When The Night Eats the World first hit screens in 2018, it was just a horror film about a man who goes to a party in Paris, then wakes up the next day to find zombies everywhere. It was a nice addition of the genre, too, proving both atmospheric, evocative, and firmly settling on its own tone. Now, this French movie hits close to home — not due to the undead, of course, but because the bulk of the feature focuses on Sam's (Anders Danielsen Lie) experiences stuck inside a flat, including his efforts to stock up on supplies in such circumstances. Cue thrills, twists, company in the form of a zombified neighbour (Denis Lavant) and a desperate need for resourcefulness. Oh, and ample existential dread as well. Available to stream on Google Play, iTunes and YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jE5dJDgZ644 BIRDEMIC: SHOCK AND TERROR What if humanity wasn't under threat from a virus, but from birds? Not just in one town, either, as seen in Alfred Hitchcock's classic thriller The Birds — but everywhere. That's the idea behind Birdemic: Shock and Terror. A word of warning: this is the silliest entry on this list, and the schlockiest as well. We honestly can't stress that enough. Indeed, Birdemic: Shock and Terror definitely isn't the world's best movie. In fact, it's the disaster and pandemic equivalent of The Room and a film that makes the Sharknado franchise's production values look positively gleaming. But, sometimes, that's just what you need. It also spawned a sequel, Birdemic 2: The Resurrection, because of course it did. Available to stream on Amazon Prime Video. To find out more about the status of COVID-19 in Australia and how to protect yourself, head to the Australian Government Department of Health's website. Top images: Contagion, 28 Days Later, Cargo, Twelve Monkeys and The Night Eats the World.
UPDATE: The Ron Burgundy Bar been cancelled due to licensing restrictions from Paramount Studios. The organisers of the event have regretfully informed us that they have cancelled the event, but will openg the pop-up with a different theme. If Ron Burgundy — the man, the legend — was to open a bar, we're pretty sure he'd open one in Melbourne. It's probably one of the only cities to accept a concept so ridiculous it includes a rich mahogany scent machine. Hot on the heels of other themed drinking establishments — George Costanza bar, we're looking at you — a bunch of bartenders have decided to make the Anchorman character's imagined bar dreams a reality, announcing they'll open a Ron Burgundy-themed bar in Melbourne next week. Naturally, they'll be theming the bar around the '70s world that Burgundy and his associates inhabit — and dropping as many movie references as possible. Staff will be wearing those iconic colourful suits, there'll be a Channel 4 News setup and even a scent machine to make the place smell like rich mahogany (the only respectable smell). Undoubtedly there'll be some sort of scotch selection as well — because we all know Ron Burgundy likes a little scotchy scotch scotch. Bartender collective Bottoms Up are the organisers behind the pop-up. They'll be taking over Carlton's Porcelain Tea Rooms Thursday to Saturday for two weeks, starting next Thursday, October 13. How has no one thought to do this before? The Ron Burgundy Rich Mahogany Bar will pop-up for two weeks from October 13-15 and October 20-22 at Porcelain Tea Rooms, 149 Elgin Street, Carlton in Melbourne. For more info, see the Facebook event.
Not every Sydneysider has the luxury of being able to nab a cheeky beach dip in Tamarama after work. The words "hectic traffic", "epic trek", "generally CBF" start a long list of pretty solid excuses. If you're an inner-city dweller, chances are you've found your nearest community pool for cooling off and doing mad laps in. Luckily, the City of Sydney's built a fair few aquatic centres around town, five in all. And summer's the perfect time to try 'em all — for free. Over a series of Saturdays, the City of Sydney is hosting a series of free open days in their swimming pools, inviting locals to try out everything each 50-metre pool has to offer — from the insanely pretty Andrew (Boy) Charlton Pool located on the edge of the harbour, to the $40 million Harry Seidler and Associates-designed Ian Thorpe Aquatic Centre. There'll be a range of activities for all ages on the day, including tours, fitness classes, aquatic inflatables, learn-to-swim information, barbecues and face painting. Plus, you get to swim for free. The idea behind the open days is to give you a chance to test out the facilities associated with the City of Sydney's 360 card — $53.40 a fortnight for access to all five of the City of Sydney's aquatic centres across the city, and their adjoining fitness facilities. CITY OF SYDNEY SWIMMING POOL OPEN DAYS: Andrew (Boy) Charlton Pool: Saturday, January 30, 9am-midday Prince Alfred Park Pool: Saturday, February 6, 9am-midday Victoria Park Pool: Saturday, February 13, 9am-midday Cook + Philip Park Aquatic and Fitness Centre: Saturday, February 20, 8am-1pm Ian Thorpe Aquatic Centre: Saturday, February 27, 8am-1pm Image: City of Sydney.
Haunting strains of bluegrass music flow through Belgium's tear-jerking entry to last year's Academy Awards. Such mournful melodies are a fitting accompaniment to the story, about two musicians whose marriage begins to crumble after their daughter succumbs to terminal cancer. Despite the miserable subject matter, writer-director Felix Van Groeningen manages to mostly strike the right chord, eschewing unchecked histrionics for honest, bittersweet emotion. Actors Johan Heldenbergh and Veerle Baetens have devastating chemistry as shell-shocked parents Didier and Elise. A banjo-playing cowboy and a music-loving tattoo-artist respectively, they're a free-spirited pair brought crashing down to earth by six-year-old Maybelle's unexpected diagnosis. In the film's opening scene, we seem them stranded helplessly by her hospital bed. We don't need the doctor to tell us the prognosis is grim. From there, Van Groeningen flashes back seven years, to Elise and Didier's first meeting. After bonding over Didier's love of American culture, the pair embarks on a whirlwind romance — only for Van Groeningen to abruptly bring us back to their heartrending present. Backwards and forwards we're torn, through courtship, pregnancy, marriage, parenthood, the onset of Maybelle's illness and the unimaginable pain of her passing. The non-linear structure only heightens the emotional maelstrom, as scenes of tenderness and love clash against anger, grief and resentment. A dying child is a tricky narrative device. Do it wrong and it seems cheap and exploitative. Do it right and you've still got a movie way too depressing for most people to want to watch. Where Broken Circle Breakdown succeeds is in focusing on Elise and Didier's relationship. Heldenbergh and Baetens are both phenomenally good, turning in performances that are both natural and on occasion frighteningly raw. Van Groeningen does overdo the melodrama at times, particularly towards the end of the film when viewers may begin to feel fatigued. To his credit, however, it never feels insincere or calculated. The same is true for some rather on-the-nose political commentary about stem-cell research and religion. It's preachy, sure, but the film's heart is in the right place. Ultimately, the earnestness with which it's delivered makes it a whole lot easier to swallow. But the best moments in the movie are undoubtedly the songs; a mix of classics and original compositions performed in key scenes by Didier, Elise and their band. In these moments in particular, Van Groeningen finds his harmony between beauty, sorrow and joy. https://youtube.com/watch?v=raaHRyBtIEo
You can discuss Middle East politics and Lady Gaga's latest ensemble in the same, minty-fresh breath. You drove across Fidel-era Cuba with a cast of unpredictable hitchhikers. You're just one long sauna sitting away from your goal weight. You have more Facebook friends than dollars in credit card debt. You know it's impossible to quantify your value as a human being, that it's probably not the point of the game, yet, in a dark corner of your mind, you do it anyway. You think you might be winning. Performance collective Post (the beautifully neurotic Zoe Coombs Marr; cool Mish Grigor; and busy new mum Natalie Rose, played by the deadpan, very much masculine Eden Falk in a wig) have externalised the conversation and tried to determine which of the three of them is — definitively, empirically — the best. After gruelling months of Enneagram tests, Dolly quizzes and hard staring into the mirror as part of the Sydney Theatre Company's Rough Draft development program, they've scored themselves on looks, personality, intelligence, health and fitness, talent, luck, money, life experience, life skills and special skills (felting, making mixtapes, etc). They now present their results. While this is all entertaining and relatable, perhaps the most impressive thing is how fully Post have managed to realise this mental exercise as a comedic performance piece. They've combined their tetchy debates with plenty of self-conscious strutting, posing, hair-flicking and catwalk-turning, persistent cues to dance off, and a crying competition. It's insightful, self-reflexive, searingly funny and, often enough, sublime. Who's the Best joyously flirts with contradictions in its own internal logic (points gained for 'enthusiasm' are forfeit when the resulting disappointment detracts from 'mental health'; bad skin necessitates the best skin care routine) and picks at its flawed raison d'etre (pregnant, no-fun Nat dares suggest they're "on different trains" to different, incomparable destinations). It's a performance that shines a spotlight on the performative nature of our hyperreal, camera-ready personal lives. No matter where the final tally lies, the members of Post are clearly all winners. For the rest of us, there's some consolation: "Luck, talent, same thing — you've either got it or you don't. Now life skills, there's something you can improve." https://youtube.com/watch?v=frBlCG4i1s8
It's mid-August, so you should probably start getting your New Year's Eve plans in order. Victorian NYE festival Beyond the Valley has just announced the lineup for their celebrated four-day festival in Lardner, Victoria and it's pretty bloody good, so could be a solid option. Just four festivals old, the Victorian festival is still pretty fresh on the New Year's circuit, starting out in 2014. Despite this, they've managed to secure a rather colossal lineup, featuring charismatic rap headliner Schoolboy Q, Sydney electro legends The Presets, falsetto-flaunting folk favourite Matt Corby, UK grime gem Stormzy, East London 'wonky funk' singer Nao and 21-year-old Channel Islands-born producer Mura Masa. Beyond the Valley takes over Lardner Park, Warragul, Victoria from December 28 to January 1. Anyway, here's what you came for. BEYOND THE VALLEY 2017 LINEUP: Schoolboy Q The Presets Matt Corby Stormzy Mura Masa Stephan Bodzin (live) Little Dragon 2MNANY DJs (DJ Set) Adana Twins Âme (live) Amy Shark Andhim The Belligerents B.Traits Crooked Colours Cub Sport Cut Copy Dean Lewis DMAs Dom Dolla FKJ GL George Maple Harvey Sutherland & Bermuda Hayden James Hot Dub Time Machine Ivan Ooze Jack River Lastlings Late Nite Tuff Guy Marek Hemmann Meg Mac NAO Patrick Topping Pleasurekraft The Preatures Princess Nokia Ruby Fields Sampa The Great San Cisco Skegss
Urban Winery Sydney is on the move. Winemaker Alex Retief is trading in his St Peter's digs for a space in Moore Park's Entertainment Quarter, with the new venue set to open mid-April. The inner west winery has been in residence in Precinct 75 — the creative precinct that also houses Maniax, Willie the Boatman, Sample Coffee and Upcycle Studio — since 2016. Now, Retief's new neighbours include Black Star Pastry, Fratelli Fresh and Brent Street dance studio. Heading east situates the winery considerably closer to the CBD and the SCG, and the EQ also offers a larger space for all that wine. As the St Peter's doors are already closed, the A.Retief 2018 vintage will be the first wine produced in the new space. Along with the shiny new production facility — which includes pumps, presses, syphons and filtration systems — the venue will also have room for a tasting bar and an expansive function area. Patrons can expect the new fit-out to have a similar vibe, with the industrial original including a handmade pallet bar, a wine bottle-filled lounge area, a luxurious 40-seat dining table and rows-upon-rows of French oak barrels, filled with the latest vintage. But every fit-out is dependent on the space and this one will have its own unique elements to offer. Once it's up and running, the winery's harvest stomping sessions and monthly guest chef lunches will resume as well. A.Retief wines will of course continue to have a strong focus on locality, with grapes sourced from Hilltops and Tumbarumba wine regions, and Retief's family biodynamic vineyard in Gundagai. Expect the latest harvests of tempranillo and shiraz, which are set for barrels this month. Urban Winery Sydney will open mid-April at the Building 121, Entertainment Quarter, Bent Street, Moore Park. It'll be open daily from midday. Keep an eye on this space and urbanwinerysydney.com.au for updates.
One of the best film festivals in Sydney flies gently under the radar. And (except for its opening night gala) it's all free. The Message Sticks film festival is back at the Opera House for four days in May, bringing you indigenous film from around the world. Beck Cole's opening night feature offers a story of redemption in Here I Am, while Shifting Shelter 4 presents the latest instalment in a Seven-up like series that has tracked four indigenous Australians in rural NSW since 1995. On the Ice has been screened at the Sundance and Berlin film festivals, and tells a story of two teenagers, a seal hunt and an accident. The Australian premiere of Mexican And the River Flows On follows the push to build a hydroelectric dam near Acapulco, threatening local indigenous communities, while the festival's shorts program offers you a visit to pre-colonial Hawaii and some urban Australian drama. You don't need to be an expert on first cultures to check out this festival. You just need to be interested, intrigued or turn up. Tickets to the free films can be collected at the Playhouse foyer from an hour before the event, limit two per person.
