Festival season is well and truly upon us, with the Woodford Folk Festival the latest event to announce its program. If you fancy seeing out 2018 and welcoming in 2019 while catching a heap of bands, wandering between arts performances and getting a little muddy across a grassy patch of southeast Queensland, the fest has you covered for its whopping 33rd year. Taking place at Woodfordia about 90 minutes north of Brisbane, this year's fest will be held for six days between December 27, 2018 and January 1, 2019 — with Electric Fields, Kimbra, Alex the Astronaut, The Cat Empire, Screamfeeder, Remi and Jen Cloher among its high-profile talent. In total, more than 200 acts will grace a lineup that features everything from music, art, circus and cabaret to yoga, dance and comedy, all in venues that range from a 25,000-seat amphitheatre to chilled-out hangout spots. Other highlights include spoken word, comedy and performances by everyone from Dr Karl to Vernon Ah Kee to Tripod's Steven Gates with Paul McDermott; arts, dance and meditation workshops; and a heap of circus and cabaret shows — plus, if you're bringing littlies, the event's Children's Festival within the broader fest is also returning. Or, you can enjoy a three-course bush food feast, catch The Spirit of Churaki about the Aboriginal man heralded as the Gold Coast's first surf lifesaver and see podcast Grownups Read Things They Wrote as Kids live. While the annual Queensland festival has weathered an uncertain future in recent years, it remains a staple of the state's end-of-year calendar — and visit will also boast 195 stalls around the grounds, turning the site into a mini-village for its duration. That includes everything from bars, cafes and restaurants, to an on-site doctor's surgery and two general stores. As always, camping is available at one of the fest's nine campgrounds, or you can nab a ticket just for the day. Either way, expect to have company, as around 130,000 people attend each year. The 2018–19 Woodford Folk Festival runs from December 27, 2018 and January 1, 2019 at Woodfordia on the Sunshine Coast. To view the program and buy tickets, head to woodfordfolkfestival.com Images: Woodford Folk Festival via Flickr.
Sydneysiders, your summer plans now include a date with the biggest name in street art there is: Banksy. The mysterious artist isn't there. Or, if they are, no one will know anyway. More than 160 works are showcasing Banksy's art, however, including infinity rooms and simulations that play with some of Banksy's most famous creations. The Art of Banksy: Without Limits has finally hit Sydney Town Hall, displaying from Wednesday, January 24. A massive collection of pieces by the art world's chief enigma — including the darkly satirical, overtly political work that has turned the stencil-loving artist into such an infamous icon — the exhibition's hefty array of artworks include Banksy's certified art, prints on a heap of different materials, plus photos and sculptures as well. For an immersive experience, there's installations, physical and digital, alongside murals and mapping shows. One such installation: a simulation of Dismaland Bemusement Park. Another: that mirrored infinity room. Banksy's murals in Ukraine also get a nod, and one space is devoted to the MV Louise Michel, the 30-metre-long high-speed lifeboat funded by Banksy that patrols the Mediterranean to rescue refugees. Attendees can also peer at reproductions of Banksy's works that have been made exclusively for this exhibition, recreating some of the artist's pieces using — of course — stencils. Flower Thrower, Kissing Coppers and sculpture Phone Booth make an appearance — and spray painting your own shirt is an option. Adding Sydney to its list of stops alongside Istanbul, Amsterdam, Antwerp, Berlin, Bucharest, Cluj and Budapest, plus Riyadh, Vienna, Warsaw, Seoul, Atlanta, Miami, Charlotte, Chile, Seattle and Mexico City, The Art of Banksy: Without Limits will run daily and take between 45–60 minutes to wander through. And yes, you can snap away for the 'gram while you're there.
My my, how can you resist this? MAMMA MIA! The Musical is bringing its Greek-set onstage party back to Sydney in 2023 — and if you're a musical fan, an ABBA devotee or perennially keen to indulge in 70s nostalgia, you'll want to be there. By now, the hit production is well-known around the world, including from previous Aussie runs. It has spawned not one but two movies, too. And, its tale of a young bride-to-be's quest to find her father before her wedding will liven up Sydney Lyric from Saturday, May 27. Here we go again with this restaging of the popular 2017 production, which is filled both with romantic chaos and 22 ABBA tracks. It's one of the biggest jukebox musical hits of the past quarter-century, in fact, as seen by over 65 million people worldwide so far. And, for this run, Elise McCann will be playing Donna Sheridan, after she played Ali in the 2009 season. Sarah Krndija (9 to 5 The Musical, Cruel Intentions: The 90s Musical and Friends! The Musical Parody) steps into Sophie's shoes, while Martin Crewes (Handa's The Phantom of the Opera on Sydney Harbour), Drew Livingston (War Horse) and Tim Wright (New Amsterdam) play her three potential dads. The story, as theatre audiences have enjoyed since 1999, follows 20-year-old Sophie, who is about to marry her fiancé Sky on the fictional Greek island of Kalokairi. It's her dream for her dad to walk her down the aisle, but courtesy of her mother Donna's old diary, she learns that her father could be one of three men: Sam Carmichael, Bill Austin or Harry Bright. Calling all dancing queens, obviously — with that track, the titular number, and everything from 'Money, Money, Money', 'Thank You for the Music', 'Super Trouper' and 'The Name of the Game' to 'SOS', 'Does Your Mother Know', 'Waterloo' and 'Knowing Me, Knowing You' featuring (and 'Take a Chance on Me', 'The Winner Takes It All' and, of course, 'I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do', too). The new Australian run hails from producers Michael Coppel, Louise Withers and Linda Bewick, plus Helpmann Award-winning director Gary Young, choreographer Tom Hodgson and musical supervisor Stephen Amos. Images: James D Morgan / David Hooley.
Australians, if you thought you had a lot of food delivery options at your fingertips before, consider yourself even more spoilt for choice now. DoorDash, the US's biggest on-demand food platform for door-to-door delivery, has arrived Down Under, taking on Melbourne, Geelong and Sydney in its first expansion outside of North America. Thousands of restaurants are set to jump on board as DoorDash rolls out its platform locally. And yes, that means dinnertime decision-making just got a little more interesting. Which can't be a bad thing, given that stats show a lot of us — two million of us to be exact — use meal delivery services at lease once every three months. Even more so now, with many Australians practising social-distancing or self-isolating in a bid to slow the spread of COVID-19. During the COVID-19 pandemic, DoorDash has introduced no-contact delivery (and will leave your food at the front door) and is waiving delivery fees for a heap of restaurants, so they can generate a little more money in these uncertain times. Big-name restaurant brands available on the delivery service in Melbourne include Betty's Burgers and Nando's, along with a diverse spread of well-loved local eateries like Red Sparrow Pizza, Le Bon Ton, Huxtaburger. In Sydney, you can order from the likes of Grill'd, Restaurant Moon, Huxtaburger, Lukumades, Mr Crackles and Thirsty Bird. The app works much the same as competitors, like UberEats and Deliveroo, though it also has a 'pick-up' and 'group ordering' options — the latter making it a lot easier to coordinate big groups. DoorDash is by no means new to the game. Having launched back in 2013, it now operates in over 4000 cities across all 50 states of the USA and Canada. If you're keen to check out the new service, DoorDash is currently offering free delivery for a heap of restaurants. The DoorDash delivery platform is now available in Melbourne, Geelong and Sydney over at doordash.com. FYI, this story includes some affiliate links. These don't influence any of our recommendations or content, but they may make us a small commission. For more info, see Concrete Playground's editorial policy.
As one of the world's biggest cities, London sort of has it all. Now they've got scored something most cities most certainly do not have: an urban zip line. Zip World London has this week launched what they say is the world's biggest and fastest urban zip liner, right in the heart of the city. According to the Evening Standard, the adrenaline-fuelled experience will see punters hoisted 35 meters into the air before being pushed down the 225-metre zip line. It's been billed as the "fastest city zip wire in the world" and people will reach speeds of up to 80 kilometres per hour, which is, well, pretty terrifyingly fast. The whole thing takes place right next to the Thames at Archbishop's Park in Lambeth, so — aside from gliding through the sky like Batman for 30 intense seconds — riders will also get to take in some of the best views of London's iconic skyline, Big Ben included. If you're escaping winter for a London summer, you're in luck, because the zip line is open until Sunday, October 1. Adult tickets are £22.50 and can be booked here. Via the Evening Standard.
Newtown has a lot going for it, and its standout bar scene is right up there at the top of the list. Some have been around forever and are still packing out the house every night, others are newcomers that have already won a spot on our go-to list. From natural wine bars, speakeasy-style haunts and cocktail spots to tiki bars and rock 'n' roll burger joints, King Street has it all. Here's our list of the best of the bunch.
From sushi roulette to all-you-can-eat dim sum, Manly's Daniel San knows how to please a crowd. This year has seen the beachfront venue throw some major parties, introduce new, creative means of stuffing our faces and generally obliterate our sinuses with wasabi, and now, kicking off 2016 with a royal hootenanny, they're throwing a huge New Year's Day party: Beach Please. Daniel San, for those uninitiated, is a Japanese rock n’ roll eatery in Manly with some primo waterfront views, which they’ll be making full use of for Beach Please. From 1pm on NYD, the beach bash begins at DS's Dojo rooftop bar and won’t stop till you get enough. Save yourself the pain of a NYE party (give up on that crazy fantasy of The O.C.’s Ryan running towards at exactly midnight for a smoochie) and lean right on into the day drink. House legends Fear of Dawn are headlining so you know it’s going to be beats-happy. Best of all, if you send through a guestlist you and your pals get free entry (prior to 3pm), a private area and a free drink when you get there (so fancy). In fact, free entry for all of God’s party-seeking children before 3pm (but $10 thereafter, just FYI).
It's happening a month later than last planned, but holidays in Western Australia are finally back on the agenda effective Thursday, March 3. And if you live in WA, getaways somewhere other than your home state will become an easy possibility again as well, with Western Australian Premier Mark McGowan locking in a new border reopening date. There's more than a little deja vu to this announcement, given that Western Australian Government set a February 5 date back in December 2021, then suspended those plans indefinitely due to the Omicron wave elsewhere in the country. But now there's a new firm date, with the Premier revealing the news on Friday, February 18. Consider it a late new year's gift, a chance to see friends and family, or — for folks now keen to head west ASAP — an excuse to visit WA's newly minted best Australian beach for 2022. When the borders reopen, the state will adopt its updated safe transition plan that'll allow travellers from other states and overseas destinations to visit again. And yes, the reopening will apply to both WA's domestic and international borders. Today we announced the new date for WA's full border opening – and it's worth talking through how we got here. Four weeks ago, on January 20, we took the difficult decision to delay Western Australia's full border opening. pic.twitter.com/zEpV2tQRoR — Mark McGowan (@MarkMcGowanMP) February 18, 2022 There'll be different rules in place depending on where you're entering from; however, you'll need to be triple-vaccinated to enter from interstate, also undertake a rapid antigen test upon arrival, and have one of WA's G2G passes registered. For those making the journey from an international location, there'll be no quarantine for vaccinated arrivals — and the same testing requirements will be in place for both domestic and overseas travellers. If you're unvaxxed, you'll still need to go into hotel quarantine for seven days. The border news comes as WA's COVID-19 case numbers have been rising — 194 local cases were reported on the same day as the announcement — with the Premier advising that "we held back Omicron as much as we could". "There comes a point where the border is redundant, because we'll already have the growth of cases here, having the border is no longer effective," McGowan also noted. Effective Monday, February 21, WA also brought in a range of new public health and social measures for the Perth, Peel, South West, Wheatbelt, Great Southern and Pilbara regions, limiting at-home gatherings and venue capacities, and requiring COVID-19 safety checklists or plans for events with more than 500 people. The mask mandate for indoor settings was also extended to apply statewide. To find out more about the status of COVID-19 in Western Australia, and the state's corresponding restrictions, visit its online COVID-19 hub. Top image: Tourism Western Australia.
By all accounts, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon were quite the spectacle. Plenty of uncertainty surrounds the structure — when they were built, where, and if they were actually real or just a myth — but they're considered one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. Short of befriending a kooky scientist, jumping in a time-travelling vehicle and venturing back more than two millennia, we'll never gaze upon them ourselves. However, if a new British development goes ahead, we could set our peepers upon quite the striking recreation. Design firm Architects of Invention has created a proposal for two 25-storey towers in Digibeth, Birmingham that takes inspiration from the fabled gardens in its curved shape, ascending terraces and abundance of greenery. The adjacent buildings each feature an array of small apartments — approximately 250 one and two bedroom units in each, measuring between 40 and 75 square metres — placed in a staggered formation. With the highest points on the corners of the block and the lowest in the middle, they meet in the centre, creating a parabolic configuration. Plants would hang from every stepped level, giving residents their own flora-abundant spaces and the entire structure a huge rooftop garden. At this stage, it's just a concept that's under discussion with the Birmingham City Council, but if it comes to fruition, it'll certainly catch the eye and then some. Via Dezeen. Images: Architects of Invention
If you're staring at that blank space on your bedroom wall and feeling uninspired, fret not. The Other Art Fair returns this December. The celebrated global event returns to Sydney for the eighteenth time from December 2–5. The fair will showcase a lively collection of emerging artists alongside wondrous art installations including a set of huge luminous bubbles in the stimulating surrounds of Barangaroo's The Cutaway. This iteration of the fair is actually 2021's second Sydney showing, after 2020s was delayed until March this year. The creative works of more than 110 carefully chosen artists, each selected by a prominent panel of art industry experts, will be up for sale. From the ornate to the inexpensive, The Other Art Fair offers thousands of artworks starting from as little as $100. Plus, the artists will be on-site, so you can chat with them and hear the stories behind your chosen piece. The vast four-day event is complemented by art activations, hand-poked tattooing, workshops and immersive performances, plus street food and DJ sets. This summer edition will play host to installations The Birds by Eness and Fever Originals, and Evanescent, an ethereal display of giant bubbles that previously popped up in Brisbane as part of Curiosity Brisbane. Make a party of it by attending on opening night ($35–40), or stop by for a general browse between Friday to Sunday — general entry tickets cost $20 online or $30 on the door. [caption id="attachment_804058" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Evanescent[/caption]
Hot Young Female Artist meets mysterious but alluring stranger. Said stranger-cum-muse sparks creative rush but causes upset between Nina (artist) and Sam (her boyfriend). “An electrifying new Australian play about passion, fidelity and the creative mind”. Flightfall is the first full-length play by new Australian playwright Emily Calder. It features a swathe of young acting talent - Augusta Miller, James Elliot, Ryan Corr and Alexandra Fisher - and is supported by a host of super production people. Hot Aussie talent at the Old Fitz with a beer and a laksa. Um, yes please. *Preview & Cheap Tuesday: General $17, Beer Laksa & Show (BLS) $25
Calling all whiskey connoisseurs: the whiskey brand of American country music singer-songwriter, musician and 11-time Grammy winner Chris Stapleton, Traveller Whiskey, is finally making its way out of the States and all the way down to Australia. For one month only from the end of February, the only place to taste it (for free) is at the Sydney CBD's own slice of the American South: Jolene's Sydney. This is no one night only tipple, Jolene's will transform into what may well be one of the biggest shouts of whiskey Sydney has ever seen — with one free tasting of Traveller for every patron nightly at 8pm between Tuesdays and Sundays. In addition to the whiskey round, Jolene's will be dishing out Traveller-inspired cocktails and food. Try the East Kentucky Sweet Tea made with Traveller Whiskey and blackberry (Kentucky's state fruit) liqueur, which is an ode to Stapleton's Kentucky roots as you snack on an all-American menu which features the likes of loaded tater tots topped with smoked brisket, liquid cheese and Traveller Whiskey-infused barbecue sauce. Whether you're a Stapleton fan or whiskey lover, you'll find something worth sipping or snacking on at Jolene's. One of Sydney's most popular country and Western music bars, there are even more Traveller-inspired events to enjoy alongside each free round. Don't miss live country music every Thursday, Friday and Saturday, as well as surprise offers and experiences for anyone who stops by. Australia's biggest round is taking place exclusively at Jolene's between Thursday, February 27 until Thursday, March 27. Visit Jolene's Sydney to get a taste of Traveller Whiskey.
If you know your Alessi’s from your Starck’s, then you must be attending Brisbane Indesign, and if you’re attending Brisbane Indesign, then surely you will be talking the talk and schmoozing the greats at the Brisbane Indesign after party. Held at the uber shmick Oh Hello!, design lovers will be getting together and letting their hair down after a big two days at Brisbane’s ultimate design event. Originally know as The Monastery Night Club, Fortitude Valley’s reining nightclub for the past 10 years, the venue has since been transformed into a creative hotspot. Designed by two of Brisbane’s most talented creative’s, interior designer Alexa Nice and artist/ founder/ owner of Australian street wear label Grand Scheme’s Jimmy Bligs, Oh Hello! has been fit out with milk crate seats, vintage cushions, wall projections, LED lanterns and hand painted walls. It’s not just the design aesthetic that draws in the people, but the amazing array of signature cocktails on offer served in old-fashioned jam jars. All in all, Oh Hello! is sure to be the perfect spot to knock back some killer cocktails, mingle with like-minded creatives and soak up some excellent aesthetics. Registered guests gain free entry, so make your way to Fortitude Valley at 7pm.
Again and again, fans of slasher films have seen the one about the unhinged murderer butchering teen victims. They've seen more than one, in fact. It's a horror convention: take a bunch of young adults, then dispense with them person by person as a killer works through childhood trauma. Penning and helming his first feature — his short Z Is for Zygote was included in The ABCs of Death 2, and he did special effects work on Psycho Goreman, too — writer/director Chris Nash knows the basics of his chosen genre as much as any other diehard viewer. He's just as aware of the great, and greatly influential, flicks gone by such as Halloween and Friday the 13th. He's well-versed in their tropes in storytelling and in form alike. Making his full-length debut with a picture called In a Violent Nature, he's also clued up on what happens when someone sinister gets a-stalking in scenic surroundings. Plot-wise, Nash isn't trying to break the mould with his account of Johnny (Ry Barrett, Massacre at Femur Creek) and the folks who are unlucky enough to fall across his path. But the filmmaker asks a question: what if a rampaging slaughterer's terrors came not with a score heralding their every menacing move (even when those tunes can become iconic, as John Carpenter's Halloween music has), but with the ordinary silence of everyday life in nature punctuated only by noises just as commonplace, and then by the sounds of a killer at their insidious worst? In its imagery, In a Violent Nature adds another query: what if the audience wasn't biding its time with those likely to perish, tension dripping from not knowing when and where the murderer would strike, but was stuck at the side of the force causing such gruesome mayhem as the inevitable approaches? There's seldom any escape from a slasher; however, Nash finds a new way to take that idea literally. Let's call it the bang-and-whimper method of tackling the genre, because lives cease here with each given as much attention. Johnny still metes out big kills that create a din and sear themselves into memory. One inventively grisly death in particular can never be erased from brains, and ensures that everyone watching is incapable of contemplating its setting or the pastime involved in the same way ever again. Another sequence suggests that it's going a similar way, but becomes unforgettable for the fact that it holds back on grim expectations. And, of course, mewls of pain are hardly new to horror. Here, though, Nash's commitment to the film's ambience gives both its bangs and its whimpers extra impact. This is the way that the world ends for Johnny's prey: not with just a bang or solely a whimper, but with the haunting, echoing combination of the two that compels In a Violent Nature's viewers to reckon with them in the moment. Nash's understanding of horror at its most stock-standard commences with In a Violent Nature's opening, where wandering campers chat while stumbling across a grave beneath an old fire tower. A gold locket hangs in plain sight, which leads Troy (Liam Leone, Eli Roth Presents: A Ghost Ruined My Life) to pocketing the jewellery, opting for the kind of stupid decision that people in a slasher flick love. Yes, it'll come back to taunt him. So awakens Johnny from the earth. So stirs his ire as well. But how the audience might anticipate that this plays out from the above description isn't ever how the feature stages it. The focus is rarely on those potentially awaiting a date with the heavens, to the point that their faces aren't the picture's most-common sight. Neither is Johnny's, whether or not it's under a smoke helmet. Nature isn't merely a location, but the expanse that fills cinematographer Pierce Derks' (Frankie Freako) frames — sometimes in close shots, sometimes sprawling. As Johnny sets off, there's not a shred of doubt lingering that he'll indulge his violent urges — the reasons for which get a backstory layered in, details that are knowingly by the book — via a relentless frenzy. Nash and Derks aren't in a hurry, largely lurking behind their killer with patience as he turns the wilderness into his hunting ground. He walks. He slays. Sometimes the results are splattered across the screen with slaughterhouse-esque gore and guts. Sometimes a savvy cut by editor Alex Jacobs (V/H/S/85) conveys what has happened instead of getting blatant and bloody. The camera remains static more than it roves, and peers on from long-held wide shots more than it zooms forward. Johnny's temperament is expressed by the pace of his stride, which becomes In a Violent Nature's metronome of unease. Masked characters, not the actors who play them, tend to carve their place in common pop-culture knowledge out of horror movies. Michael Myers is the household name, for instance, as much as Nick Castle (Halloween Ends) should be. Barrett deserves the same recognition, making Johnny a petrifying presence even when so frequently spied from a few footsteps back. That said, he isn't carrying the film alone on-screen. The travellers that meet the figure's hooks and other weaponry start out disposable, but leave an impression the longer that they survive, Andrea Pavlovic (Our Mother's Secret Affair) especially. That'll ring familiar, too; to take the risks that Nash does, and to test if a slasher flick can work the way he wants it to — and it can — he leans into the template everywhere else possible. It was a Sundance sensation to kick off 2024, proved a box-office hit in America for independent studio IFC Films and now has a sequel in the works, but a movie like this, with the output of director Terrence Malick (A Hidden Life) as much of a touchstone as the Friday the 13th and The Texas Chain Saw Massacre franchises, is a gamble. Both of the latter two horror sagas earn clear nods, yet there's no mistaking In a Violent Nature's lyrical skew thanks to its ever-present greenery and naturalistic soundtrack. Combine the two and scares still spring, laced with dread that gushes like a limb lopped off by a log splitter. While it's frightening to ponder that ghastly turns of fate can and do occur randomly, as regular slashers capitalise upon, it's bone-chilling to confront that truth when it's presented as an inherent, innate, matter-of-fact certainty of existence. In a violent nature indeed.
Seeing the restored print of the 1948 Powell & Pressburger classic The Red Shoes is like seeing it for the first time. And, if it really is your first time taking it in, how I envy you! Following two and a half years of restoration work propelled by Martin Scorcese, editor Thelma Schoonmaker and the team at the UCLA Film & Television Archive, The Red Shoes absolutely sings on screen. The colours dazzle as much as the actual story, which remains elegantly suspenseful and haunting. Based loosely on a Hans Christian Anderson fairytale, this is the story of the intersection of three very driven personalities: a dancer, a composer and a ballet director. It is not the happy tale of collaborative fulfilment however; it is the story of the passionate obsession behind creative ambitions and the ruthless choices demanded between art and life. It is also a glimpse into the netherworld of a ballet company at work, so realistic due in part to the casting of both actors and real dancers. The titular ballet — choreographed and performed by Robert Helpmann and Leonide Massine — is shown in one of the most stunning scenes ever marked upon film, each frame dripping into the next. At its center, naturally, are the red shoes that contain more magic and horror than Dorothy's. If you are the kind of film lover who is glancing longingly at your flat screen television as you read this review, thinking "I'll just wait for the blu-ray", I advise you to start this article over, up there at the first paragraph, and to pay attention this time. Of course a film as stunning as this will be wonderful any way you watch it but please, pirouette to the popcorn counter and see this masterpiece on the big screen while you can. * To begin this repertory run at the Chauvel with appropriate fanfare, Kevin Powell, son of co-director Michael Powell will introduce the film on opening night, Thursday March 18th at 6:30pm. https://youtube.com/watch?v=tSgar55BfPw
This September sees one historic Sydney hotel transformed into a multi-faceted gallery space, when it plays host to the next edition of contemporary art fair, Spring 1883. From Wednesday, September 11, to Saturday, September 14, 26 acclaimed art galleries from across Australia, New Zealand and the USA will descend on the Establishment Hotel to deliver an intimate art experience. Far from your average art fair, Spring 1883 will showcase an array of surprising installations and shows, incorporated throughout the hotel's rooms, penthouse suites and even its gymnasium. As you wander the site, you'll stumble upon a curation of various works from the likes of Sydney's Cement Fondu, Melbourne's John Street Studios, {Suite} and Mercy Pictures out of New Zealand and New York-based Dutton gallery. Brisbane's The Renshaws will make its Spring 1883 debut with a solo exhibition by Michael Georgetti, while Sydney's own artist-run space Fires will curate the Project Room: a group show by five Aussie artists taking over the Establishment's gym. Spring 1883 runs from Thursday and Saturday midday–7pm, and Friday midday–8pm. Image two: Fires, 'The Sundowner' (2019). Photo by Uri Auerbach
2018 is nearly upon us, so it's time for a revamp. Freshen up your aesthetic for the new year with bedding, kitchen and bathroom textiles from IN BED. The online store is hosting a Christmas pop-up from December 14 to 24, so you'll have ten whole days to snatch up some goods and manifest your dream life through décor. Homewares from Tara Burke, Anglepoise, Wingnut + Co and more will be available. If you fancy a drink, be it alcohol or coffee, IN BED will also be hosting a series of events during the pop up — including Christmas drinks on December 14 from 4pm to get thing started, and complimentary coffee on December 16, with gingerbread treats. The pop-up runs 10am to 4pm daily and will stay open until 7pm on Thursday, giving you plenty of time to pick up some linens and homeware for Christmas
ARIA-winning artist and bighearted Sydney legend Sarah Blasko will play an intimate gig at Giant Dwarf in Redfern on World Refugee Day, Friday 20 June. With all ticket sales going straight to the Refugee Council of Australia, Blasko's fundraiser is a direct response to the federal government's funding cuts to the RCOA, announced as an addition to the recent budget. After the release of her stunning fourth album I Awake to critical high-fivery in 2012, Blasko is breaking out of creative hibernation to play for a cause. "I'm emerging from what I'll affectionately call my 'fifth album writing cave' to play this special show at Giant Dwarf (the latest venture from the Chaser team) during Refugee Week. I'm an ambassador this year and The Refugee Council need financial support now more than ever to continue their positive work within refugee communities in Australia," said Blasko. "They are also an important force in lifting the veil on our country's treatment of asylum seekers. So, come watch me sing for the night and you'll be supporting them. I promise at least one new song and special guests." After a whopping 33 years of operating, the RCOA found more than half a million dollars of funding cut from their budget — after Immigration Minister Scott Morrison found his portfolio was funding the organisation. "It seems extraordinary that our organisation — which has been doing this work through thick and thin for 33 years — has been singled out for this treatment," Paul Power, chief executive of the RCOA told ABC radio. "This in many ways illustrates the state of the relationship between the non-government sector — particularly organisations working on asylum issues — and the government at the moment." This isn't the first time Blasko has used her fame for a good cause. Last year, the multi ARIA-winning artist teamed up with eBay to open a temporary online store in support of charity organisation Bowel Cancer Australia (after losing her mother to bowel cancer 14 years ago). All proceeds from her personally donated auctioned clothing, books, homewares, vinyl and bric-a-brac went directly to the organisation. Blasko will be joined onstage with some special yet-to-be-announced guests, alongside her solid session buddies. Tickets are available from Giant Dwarf's website. https://youtube.com/watch?v=IyzF4dRpqow
If you're looking to escape the heat this summer, you'll find plenty of relief waiting down a hidden staircase beneath boutique CBD hotel QT Sydney. On offer: compelling flicks, bespoke Four Pillars cocktails and sweet, sweet air-con, all at the new QT Cinema Club. Officially launching today, Tuesday, December 1, the site's subterranean 30s-era theatrette and accompanying speakeasy bar has been transformed into one of the coolest movie-watching destinations in town. And it's available for private bookings, hosting up to 28 people per session. Film-wise, QT Cinema Club will screen a broad-ranging program of classics, action films, romance flicks and horror, curated by Four Pillars own avid film buff and co-founder Matt Jones. There's a big retro vibe to the catalogue — and you can pick between enjoyable throwbacks such as Dirty Dancing and Lost in Translation, romance flicks like Before Sunrise and Strictly Ballroom, and the sci-fi joys of Blade Runner and Back to the Future. Among the 50-movie lineup, there's also action fare such as Mad Max and Reservoir Dogs, and horror films like The Shining and The Cabin in the Woods. To enjoy alongside your chosen flick, you'll find a lineup of specially crafted cocktails made with different varieties of Four Pillars gin, with each carefully matched to a specific movie genre. There are sips like The Last Action Cocktail, which is designed to celebrate the high-energy adventure flicks; Couple Seating, as inspired by romance; and Planet of the Grapes, as made with the distillery's famed Bloody Shiraz Gin. Of course, you can rest assured that these are some very high-end movie beverages, given that last month Four Pillars took out the title of World's Best Gin Producer for the second year running. QT Cinema Club guests have a choice of two plush cinematic packages, starting with the $79 per person 'Debut' option, which includes bottomless gin-salted popcorn, one Four Pillars cocktail, a movie screening and $25 QT Sydney room credit. More drinks and snacks are available to purchase once you're there, too. Alternatively, you can opt for the $149 per person 'Blockbuster' package, which will get you the same set-up — but with all five different Four Pillars cocktails — in addition to curated snacks from the hotel's Parlour Cucina and a Parlour Lane choc top. Find QT Cinema Club beneath QT Sydney, at 49 Market Street, Sydney. To book, visit the hotel's website.
It takes a truly talented band to reach the heights of international stardom without a drummer, but New Zealand eight-piece Fat Freddy’s Drop make it look a synch. They’ve been touring for well over 15 years now, their inimitable horn-based sound, bringing together a soul, dub, reggae fusion that sends audiences loco. Now, they’re bringing their brass, bass and organic melody and lyricism to Australia for a nationwide tour. Testament to Fat Freddy’s Drop success is their ability to remain independent and reassured that the crazy little thing they’ve got going on is worth it. They were first band to hit number one in New Zealand with an independently produced record, and said album, Based on a True Story, is still the highest selling album by a national artist in the country’s history. They’ve released three studio albums, two live albums and several singles, and even built a studio. As for their live performances, they’re infamous for their energy. From the music to the atmosphere, the reggae sounds hit hard, and the techno spin Fat Freddy’s Drop has taken lately keeps the rhythm dynamic.
You've probably started to notice all the bunny-shaped chocolates, decadent edible eggs and cute baskets popping up at your local supermarket. Yep, Easter is just around the corner. If you're a super fan of the choc-fuelled annual event, then gear up for a fun day out at the Sydney Family Show, which is taking over the entertainment Quarter for two whole weeks. Whether you're wanting to channel your inner kidult or you're looking for a way to entertain your actual kids, this fair has you covered. Running from Thursday, April 1 till Sunday, April 18, the Sydney Family Show will have everything from carnival games and showbags to thrilling rides, such as dodgem cars, spinning teacups and a giant slide. You'll also get to partake in the epic Easter Basket Scramble and dive into a huge ball pit. Then, check out the live entertainment shows, hang out with adorable animals at the on-site nursery, or, if you prefer scaly reptiles, hold a snake at the daily reptile show. There are also some one-day events happening such as bunny hopping competitions on Good Friday; the Variety Easter Family Fun Day on April 8 in partnership with the namesake children's charity; and a dog talent show on the fair's closing day. It's an affordable day of fun, too, with tickets priced at $7 for kids, $15 for adults and a reasonable $40 for a four-person family. Of course, there's a global pandemic to be mindful of, so pre-booking tickets is encouraged. You can also expect social distancing measures to be in place, plus numerous hand washing facilities and sanitising stations around the fair. Sydney Family Show is taking over the Entertainment Quarter from Thursday, April 1–Sunday, April 18. Opening times are 10am–5pm daily, except over the Easter long weekend (April 2–5) when it'll be open till 6pm. Pre-book your tickets here.
Insta-worthy eats and drinks are one thing, but a world-class food scene isn't built on the edible stuff alone. There's also a stack of gorgeous design work behind the most memorable hospitality venues and it's this very aspect that's celebrated at the annual Eat Drink Design Awards. As Australia and New Zealand's only hospitality design awards program, the Eat Drink Design Awards recognise hospo design gems across both countries, from restaurants, bars, and cafes, through to temporary spaces. While the 2017 award winners won't be chosen by the jury until November, the shortlist was revealed today and, as expected, it's packed full of all those cafes, bars, and restaurants your inner style nerd has been drooling over this past year or so. Local nominees for Best Bar Design include ACME&Co's Merivale project Charlie Parker's, George Livissianis' work on The Dolphin Hotel and SJB + TRD for The Buena. The CBD's Edition Roasters is among the projects shortlisted for Best Cafe Design, while the likes of Fred's, 12-Micron, Cairo Takeaway, Mode at the Four Seasons, Jade Temple and Long Chim are being considered for the Best Restaurant Design gong. Other categories being selected include Best Installation Design, Best Identity Design, and Best Retail Design. The winners will be announced on Tuesday, November 14 in Melbourne. For the full list of nominees, visit their website. Jump over to The Eat Drink Design Awards website to see the full lineup of nominees.
Boasting an outrageously talented cast of young actors, including River Phoenix, Jerry O’Connell, Wil Wheaton, Corey Feldman, Kiefer Sutherland and John Cusack, few films have captured the magic or intransigence of youth better than Rob Reiner’s nostalgic coming-of-age drama Stand By Me. Adapted from Stephen King’s autobiographical novella The Body, Stand By Me takes place in the summer of 1959 in a small, out of the way town in Oregon. With a full weekend at their disposal, four young boys embark on an adventure through the back roads of their community in search of a dead body rumoured to be hidden in the nearby swamp. It’s a sort of ‘road movie on foot’, complete with significant rites of passage, ridiculous childhood hijinks and, occasionally, some deeply tender moments. Richard Dreyfuss features as the film’s narrator, reminiscing from the perspective of one of the boys now in his middle age. “I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was 12,” he observes at one point. “Jesus, does anyone?” – and therein lies the heart of Stand By Me. Each of the four boys carries with him the shame of some social stigma, be it abusive parents, physical deformity or simple obesity, yet as a group they’re confident and unassailable, loved unconditionally by each other in a way not found back home or by the township. Filmed almost thirty years ago, Stand By Me remains a poignant, moving and uplifting testimony to the capacity for friendship and the joy of childhood adventure. The team behind the much-anticipated event Downtown Drive-In has announced Carriageworks in Sydney’s Eveleigh, just three kilometres from the Sydney CBD, as the location for its three-night season, which will run from November 29 to December 1, 2012. A seldom-used section of the 120-year-old heritage listed building will form the perfect backdrop for the Back Roads USA season of films. The films to be screened include On The Road, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, Raising Arizona, Stand By Me and Vanishing Point. Downtown Drive-In will also feature a custom menu with individual items designed by The Dip, Sydney’s favourite American-style diner, playfully paying tribute to the films and shared Americana settings and atmosphere. Major sponsor Audi will supply a range of luxury cars for the ultimate drive-in experience. The cars will also feature razor-sharp sound from audio partner Bang & Olufsen. Entry into Downtown Drive-In will cost $50 for vehicles of up to four people. Walk-in deck chair seating is also available near the screen, at $25 per person. For more information on the film schedule, drive-in experience and participating partners, visit www.downtowndrive.in
If you're a fan of true-crime stories, then you'll know a disturbing truth: that there's no shortage of real-life tragedies that films and series in the genre can draw upon. White House Farm's inspiration comes from the notorious killings known as the White House Farm murders, which took place outside an Essex village and saw five members of the Bamber-Caffell family lose their lives, and continued to garner headlines intermittently in the decades since as appeals were lodged and reviews took place. Across six episodes, the show not only heads back to August 6, 1985, but also follows the investigation into the case. Feeling tense is part of the package, even if you're already familiar with the details. Cast-wise, Snatch's Stephen Graham and Game of Thrones' Mark Addy play the detectives trying to get to the bottom of the traumatic and complex situation — and fellow GoT alum Alfie Allen also pops up.
Brisbane rock five-piece Waax have been steadily gaining a following over the past few years. This month, they're set to cross the border for a gig in Byron as part of NSW Government initiative Great Southern Nights. They'll be playing at The Northern, situated right in the centre of Byron Bay and just a few minutes' walk from its famous Main Beach. Not that you'll be thinking of the surf when Waax lets rip with their take on alternative post-punk. Likened in the past to acts such as Siouxsie and the Banshees and Yeah Yeah Yeahs, their debut album, Big Grief — incidentally recorded in Byron Bay — just fell short of a place in the Top 10 last year. You can catch them at the coastal pub on Saturday, November 7 at 6pm or 9.30pm. For the latest info on NSW border restrictions, head here. If travelling from Queensland or Victoria, check out Queensland Health and DHHS websites, respectively.
Maggie Gyllenhaal and Hugh Dancy head up a stellar cast in Tanya Wexler's offbeat comedy Hysteria, based on the true story of Dr. Mortimer Granville — the man who created the world's first vibrator, back in 1880. In a search to cure the baffling female medical condition of the day, 'hysteria', the young doctor (played by Dancy) and his new boss Dr. Dalrymple (Jonathon Pryce) create the 'feather duster', offering women intimate manual relief from their condition – and, by chance, generating a surprising increase in business. The film is a joyful and light-hearted take on the birth of the sex toy, likely to put a knowing smile on a few faces in the audience. Concrete Playground has ten double passes to give away. To be in the running to win a pair of tickets to Hysteria, make sure you're subscribed to Concrete Playground then email your name and postal address to hello@concreteplayground.com.au
If you're not in a position to invite vertical garden expert Patrick Blanc to turn your apartment into a World Record-breaking botanic wonder, why not try doing-it-yourself? Not quite sure where you might start? Over the next four months, Sydneysiders will have the chance to learn more about creating 'blooms with a view', 'supercharging' their soil and transforming their patio into a mini pesto factory. A series of community workshops, focused on maximising the organic and agricultural potential of matchbox-sized living spaces, are being run in various venues in Redfern, Glebe and Green Square. Forming part of the City of Sydney's Green Villages program, and supported by Environmental Grants, the workshops are entirely free of charge. The only catch is that numbers are limited, so online registration is essential.
Just when you thought you were all Harvest sideshow-ed out, along comes Beck and announces his only Australian gig outside of his frenetically anticipated headline one. The exceptionally talented and artistically scrupulous musician will play the Sydney State Theatre on Wednesday, 14 November. It will be the closest thing you will get to a sonic run-down of his almost 20-year career, and even though cramming two decades of musical innovation into one show is almost as unrealistic as attempting to write about it, it will be worth every cent of however much tickets end up being when they're released next Friday. Since releasing catchy, off-kilter anthem "Loser" back in 1994 Beck has proved his mastery of music via eight studio albums and many more boundary-pushing collaborative projects. His latest release is so good it's actually inaudible to human ears. What you probably can hear, however, is the sound of your bank account groaning under a heavy but very good-sounding weight. That you should ignore. https://youtube.com/watch?v=VkCg-3nxT8E
Vivid, Semi-Permanent, Head On. May is not the calendar's shrinking violet. On the contrary, May insists you get out and enjoy its insightful lens work, inspiring design and flashing, play-with-me light shows poste haste. Here are five ways to start.
In the world of stand-up, getting a gag off the ground and inspiring some true belly-aching laughter doesn't come easy. Even those at the top have to start somewhere. For those with the gift of the gab (both locally and abroad), Giant Dwarf is putting on Comedy(ish), a night for comedians to test the waters with some of their latest and (hopefully) greatest lines. Tom Ballard plays host the January 21 event, which features Scott Dooley, Michael Workman and Becky Lucas, among many others. It all goes down at Redfern's Giant Dwarf. Established by the boys from The Chaser, this space is no stranger to some pretty talented creative folk. Bringing never-before-seen material to eager ears, Comedy(ish) guarantees nothing but promises everything. Or, at the very least, a decent chuckle.
It's that time again: to wish that you're in Germany for the next month, or to do your best to pretend you are even while you're right here at home. That's the kind of response that Oktoberfest inspires, because we can't all always head over to Europe just for the annual brew-fuelled celebration. Sydneysiders can hit up The Bavarian's various locations around town between Friday, September 16–Sunday, October 9 instead, though. On the menu: parties, German-style beers, schnapps, giant pretzels, pork-heavy menus, Sunday sausage sizzles and, at some venues (York, Manly, Tuggerah, Wetherill, Macarthur, Castle Hill and Green Hills), Oompah bands providing a soundtrack. So, everything you could want and need to mark the occasion. The venues will sport all the Oktoberfest trimmings — greenery, ribbons and bright tables cloths included — and staff will be decked out in dirndls and lederhosen. Yes, you're encouraged to dress up as well. If you're most excited about the drinks, there'll be eight types of beers, plus tasting paddles to sample them all. Also, the final week of the fun — so, from Monday, October 3 onwards — has been dubbed Big Beer Week to ramp up the brews. Fancy living your best Oktoberfest life all year round afterwards? You can purchase one of The Bavarian's one-litre steins to take home with you and— for $40, which includes a beer that you'll drink onsite first. Food-wise, options start with the OktoberBoss set menu, which serves up a feast of pork knuckle, pork belly, sausages, schnitzels and sides (plus a schnapps on arrival) for groups of four-plus for $49 per person. If it's just you and one mate / your date, there's the Oktoberfest Mate set menu is for two-plus diners for the same price, spanning pretzels, pork belly, sausages, schnitzels and sides. Brews can be added to each menu for an extra $45 per person — and you can cap things off with an apple strudel for $7 a pop. Love pretzels? A special lineup of giant versions is on offer for the first few days of The Bavarian's Oktoberfest shenanigans, from Saturday, September 17–Friday, September 23 — including ones topped with bacon, filled with cheese and covered in sprinkles (no, not all at once). Or, there's a black forest doughnut pretzel. The word for that is yum. Snag fans can make a date with those sausage sizzles, which are available at Manly, Penrith and World Square on Sundays in October. There'll be six types of traditional bangers, served solo in a roll (from $10) or via a sausage wheel on a stick.
Before Batman squared off against Superman and the Avengers started fighting amongst themselves, another group of not-so-average folks brought their battles to the big screen. Since 2000, the X-Men franchise has charted the many clashes and intermittent truces of Professor Charles Xavier, his friend-turned-nemesis Magneto, and their respective groups of disagreeing mutants. Sixteen years later, they've graced nine films, including the original trilogy, two Wolverine spin-offs, two other excursions into the characters' backstories and this year's smash hit Deadpool. With such a sizeable history, of course their latest conflict seems familiar. But it also feels every inch its own. Indeed, there has always been a specific vibe to the X-Men movies: outcast-oriented dramas mixed with bombastic action, while always retaining a distinctive emotional core. Director Bryan Singer is at the helm of his fourth instalment, while writer Simon Kinberg is back for script number three. It should therefore come as no surprise that the '80s-set X-Men: Apocalypse once again charts outsiders looking to find their place in a makeshift mutant family. Ten years after the main events of X-Men: Days of Future Past, Professor X (James McAvoy) yet again locks horns with Magneto (Michael Fassbender), with the recently unearthed Apocalypse (Oscar Isaac) — an ancient, god-like being considered the first-ever mutant — the cause of their latest conflict. The former is intent on stopping the new threat, re-teaming with CIA agent Moira Mactaggert (Rose Byrne) and later shape-shifting mutant Mystique (Jennifer Lawrence). The latter, in the wake of his own personal tragedy, once again embraces his destructive streak and sides with the fresh force of global devastation. With teenage incarnations of Nightcrawler (Kodi Smit-McPhee), Jean Grey (Sophie Turner) and Cyclops (Tye Sheridan) also featured, X-Men: Apocalypse doesn't lack in subplots, characters or attempts to set up future sequels. Nor does it miss any opportunity to thrust a CGI-heavy fray to the fore, or to sprinkle in a few much-needed doses of humour – particularly when returning favourite Quicksilver (Evan Peters) is involved. Instead, the one thing absent is the added element the film so obviously strives for: a heightened sense of grandeur. Conveying the personal stakes motivating the main players may not be an easy feat in such a busy effort, yet it's something the movie achieves in a touching manner. Dialling up the gravity of the entire situation proves far less simple or successful. Sadly, the titular villain is the main culprit weighing the feature down. If X-Men: Apocalypse shines whenever the usual suspects share screen time, it lags when the newfound enemy starts making big speeches. In stark contrast to the actor's typical output, poor Oscar Isaac is barely allowed to make a mark, with his makeup and digitally altered voice sapping his natural charisma. Thankfully McAvoy and Fassbender continue their stellar form across their trio of prequel films, while Peters once again threatens to steal the show. When you're watching them, you're in vintage X-Men territory, even if the movie desperately wants to be something more.
Only one female filmmaker has ever been nominated for the Best Director Oscar twice. That woman: Jane Campion. The New Zealand talent won the coveted prize in 2022, for the phenomenal The Power of the Dog — and, while her exquisite revisionist western was the absolute best movie of 2021, it's not the only highlight on her resume. Campion's filmography is packed with must-sees, and see them you must — on the big screen at the Art Gallery of NSW at the 2023 Sydney Film Festival. The fest's retrospective for this year is Jane Campion: Her Way, a lineup that will step through the New Zealand director and screenwriter's career, and also feature Campion in-conversation with David Stratton. [caption id="attachment_847709" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Kirsty Griffin/Netflix[/caption] On the bill: The Power of the Dog, because watching it via streaming is nowhere near the best way to revel in its wonders; The Piano, the 1993 Oscar-winner that nabbed Campion her first Best Director nomination; In the Cut, a tremendous erotic thriller starring Meg Ryan; and Holy Smoke, with Kate Winslet starring opposite Harvey Keitel. There's also everything from 1986's Two Friends, 1989's Sweetie and 1990's An Angel at My Table through to 1996's Nicole Kidman-starring The Portrait of a Lady, 2009's Bright Star about poet John Keats and his romance with Fanny Brawne, and Campion's short films Peel, A Girl's Own Story, Passionless Moments, After Hours and The Water Diary. SFF runs from Wednesday, June 7–Sunday, June 18, with Campion chatting with Stratton on Saturday, June 10 following a showing of the new documentary Jane Campion, The Cinema Woman. Top image: Kirsty Griffin/Netflix.
"Black..." growls Will Arnett's gruff hero from deep within the movie's opening darkness. "All important movies start with a black screen. And music. Edgy, scary music that would make a parent or studio executive nervous. And logos. Really long and dramatic logos". On and on he goes, making cracks at a production house whose contribution to the film escapes him, having a dig at both Superman and DC comics, quoting Michael Jackson and bragging about his huge pecs and impressive "ninth ab". All, mind you, before the first frame of the movie has even been seen. This is The Lego Batman Movie, aka Captain Meta, where the self-referential humour comes thick and fast from the opening minute to the last. It's a film that gleefully acknowledges the nine Batman flicks that preceded it, including "that weird one in 1966" (notes the hero: "I have aged phenomenally"). And yet, for all the in-jokes and winks to camera, The Lego Batman Movie is, at least thematically, somehow more of a Batman movie than Joel Schumacher's Batman and Robin or Zack Snyder's Batman vs Superman, in that it faithfully explores its protagonist's single-most defining characteristic: his crippling isolation. Batman is a loner; a recluse; a vigilante misanthrope whose only joy (and, indeed, purpose) comes from battling criminals. So what would happen, then, if all the criminals were locked away and all of Gotham City were crime-free? Such was the premise at the opening of Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight Rises, and here, too, it forms the basis of the entire story. It's hence rather a one-note narrative, but thankfully the (many) writers manage to extract enough out of it to fill an enjoyable hour and a half of screen time. Led by a terrific Will Arnett reprising his role from 2014's The Lego Movie, the cast of voice actors here is at once enormous and impressive. Alongside Arnett we find Zach Galifianakis as The Joker, Ralph Fiennes as Alfred, Michael Cera as Robin and Rosario Dawson as Barbara Gordon, the new Police Commissioner of Gotham City. There's also an extensive cameo list featuring the likes of Channing Tatum as Superman, Conan O'Brien as The Riddler, Zoe Kravitz as Cat Woman, Eddie Izzard as Voldemort and even Siri as Batman's computer. Of course, there's no getting around the fact that this film represents crass commercialism taken to an extraordinary extreme. How many studios would ever deign to include their corporate sponsor in the actual title of their movie (Daniel Craig stars in…Aston-Martin Bond)? As with its predecessor, The Lego Batman Movie is designed to, and succeeds in, showcasing Lego's extensive catalogue of movie and TV-based products, ranging from Harry Potter and Doctor Who through to Godzilla, King Kong and The Wizard of Oz. On the other hand, the film is a funny, clever and engaging piece of cinema that holds almost as much interest for adults as it will the film's target younger audience. Not as finessed or layered as The Lego Movie, this superhero spinoff is nonetheless an entertaining and refreshing take on the big screen's most brooding hero, and proves well worth the price of admission. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rGQUKzSDhrg
UPDATE, April 16, 2021: Crawl is available to stream via Netflix, Foxtel Now, Google Play, YouTube Movies, iTunes and Amazon Video. Part creature feature and part disaster movie, Crawl is a gleeful ripper of a thriller. Not only unleashing a ferocious hurricane upon its father-daughter duo, but a congregation of snapping alligators as well, its premise is simple — what the film lacks in narrative surprises, however, it makes up for in suspense and tension. That's the holy grail of fear-inducing flicks. Regardless of the concept, if a movie can make the audience feel as if they're in the same space as the characters they're watching, enduring every bump and jump, and sharing their life-or-death terror, then it has done its job. By playing it straight, serious and scary, Crawl manages to exceed its Sharknado rip-off status to craft a highly effective battle between humans, animals and the elements. The film introduces aspiring swimming star Haley Keller (Kaya Scodelario) on a wet and windy day, although she initially misses the wild weather warnings while she's doing laps at training. A panicked call from her sister (Moryfydd Clark) doesn't rattle the no-nonsense young woman, and nor does the news that her divorced father Dave (Barry Pepper) isn't answering his phone. Still, thanks to a few unresolved daddy-daughter issues nagging at her conscience, Haley is quickly driving down the blustery highway, flagrantly ignoring police instructions and heading to their old family home. It's no spoiler to say that she discovers more than she bargained for down in their basement, with Haley soon trying to save the injured Dave, stay alive herself, fend off ravenous gators and stay ahead of rising flood waters. In telling this tale, writers Michael and Shawn Rasmussen (The Ward) haven't met a cliche they didn't love, an emotional beat they didn't want to hit, or a convenient twist of the narrative screws that they didn't want to turn. It can't be overstated just how much of Crawl, in a story sense, plays out exactly as expected. Plot developments and character decisions all stick to the usual formula, as does animal behaviour and storm surges (if you're a screenwriter, it's possible to control the very forces that your protagonists can't). But it's worth thanking the cinema gods that Alexandre Aja is sitting in the director's chair — and that he knows a thing or two about creature features and horror movies. While the French filmmaker has both hits and misses to his name (including Haute Tension, remakes of The Hills Have Eyes and Piranha, and the devilish Daniel Radcliffe flick Horns), here he masters the art of conveying an alligator's menace. Of course, it could be argued that much of Crawl's work is easy. Along with sharks, gators already rank among the most frightening beasts on the planet. Courtesy of their teeth, speed, size and power, just thinking about them gives plenty of people the shivers — so, on paper, all that an unsettling film need do is place the scaly critters front and centre. And yet, as too many Jaws wannabes have shown since Steven Spielberg's massive hit created the concept of the blockbuster as we know it, it's not enough just to throw a bunch of attacking animals at some clueless folks. As more comic takes have demonstrated in Sharknado, Snakes on a Plane and the Birdemic movies, it's not enough to write off the whole scenario as simple silliness either. There's an existential basis to the genre's underlying idea, unpacking how humanity truly copes when it's made to face nature. As a species, much of our sense of collective worth stems from our ability to shape and control our world, and yet we can't stop weather systems from morphing into destructive hurricanes, or hungry reptiles from doing what they're designed to do. Mainly lurking in the Kellers' dank, dark, rat-infested crawlspace, Crawl leans into the primal side of pitting people against the environment. Aja takes every chance to emphasise the scampering threats eager to gobble up Haley and Dave. With assistance from his regular cinematographer Maxime Alexandre, he ramps up the unease, deploying tried and tested filmmaking techniques such as low shots, quick cuts, point-of-view perspectives, dim lighting, and ample movement and shadow. A couple of gory kill sequences add to the mood, as does the movie's approach to its swirling winds and rushing water. Indeed, amid the rampant CGI, there's a sense of awe for the havoc that alligators and hurricanes can each wreak, which only heightens the stressful atmosphere. Unsurprisingly, fear and tension radiates through the film as a result — and through its key duo, too. Although Scodelario and Pepper are given about as much room for character development as their cold-blooded foes, they still bring a naturalistic air to their performances, portraying anxious everyday folks just fighting to survive by doing whatever it takes. No matter what's thrown at us, or how, or where, that's what making humanity grapple with our surroundings boils down to, after all. In fact, given the state of the planet, Crawl's central theme not only proves frightening and fuels an effective thriller, but also feels unnervingly prescient. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q4WuVXo_XAM
An authentic Greek cafe and dessert bar is opening in Ramsgate, bringing filoxenia, the warmth of Greek hospitality, to the residents of Sydney's south. The Good Filo will channel Thessaloniki and the ancient city's millennia-old baking traditions in their handmade delicacies. Visitors will be able to purchase lunches, desserts and Greek pastries, from moussaka to tsoureki. A strong, black coffee is recommended on the side to wash it all down. Launching on Rocky Point Road on January 3, the store will be captained by Aki Daikos and head baker Kiriakos Metaxotos. The former might be familiar from Tella Balls, while the latter will produce all the cafe's delights by hand, following recipes that have caused generations of mouths to water. Expect paninis, pastries, moussaka, baklava, bougatsa (made from your choice of semolina custard, cheese or a minced meat filling between layers of filo pastry) and galaktoboureko (semolina custard wrapped in a sheet of golden filo). Other delicacies include peynerli, a type of thick-based, Greek pizza first enjoyed by Greeks who lived on the Black Sea, and the tsoureki, a stringy-textured pastry with a semi-soft crust which fills the store with intense, spiced aromas when baked. Other highlights stem from inventive food hybrids, such as the croissantaboureko, which combines croissants with galaktoboureko as its name suggests; and the tsourektabouriko, which is a tsoureki with a galaktoboureko centre, all in the shape of a doughnut. https://www.instagram.com/p/BdWJQ6FDkW_/?taken-by=thegoodfilo There's also daily-made fresh bread, and it pretty much goes without saying that you shouldn't leave without trying a Greek frappe. And keep an eye out for other experimental specials, such as the Greek monsieur. "There really isn't a place like it in Sydney, and it's always been my dream to bring my motherland to Sydney," says Daikos. The Good Filo will open on January 3 at 336-342 Rocky Point Road, Ramsgate. For more information, head to the cafe's website.
The history of cinema is haunted by oh-so-many movies about oh-so-many ghost-riddled abodes, and the often-troubled and bereaved folks dwelling within them. The first clever move The Night House makes is recognising it's floating into busy spectral waters, then ensuring its tension stems from its living, breathing protagonist as much as the frights and fears she's forced to face. The film's second stellar step: casting Rebecca Hall (Godzilla vs Kong) as that central figure. An always-welcome addition to anything she's in — see also: Professor Marston and the Wonder Women, Christine and Tales From the Loop in just the past few years — she plays her tormented part here with brooding sorrow, reluctant vulnerability and a sharp, smart edge. She knows that grappling with loss involves being jolted in many different directions, and being subjected to bumps and jumps of the emotional kind, and that it's never easy to surrender to. Indeed, many of The Night House's surprises come from Hall as Beth, a schoolteacher whose life has been turned upside down by her husband Owen's (Evan Jonigkeit, The Empty Man) unexpected suicide. Clearly normally a no-nonsense type whether she's guiding pupils, dealing with their parents or navigating her personal life, she probes and questions everything that comes her way. As a result, her reactions — including just to herself — are constantly complex, thorny and compelling. Since Owen's passing — using a gun she didn't know he had, and tainting a rowboat usually tethered to the lake house he built for them himself — Beth has cycled through the familiar stages of mourning. When she returns to work to her colleagues' astonishment, including her close friend Claire's (Sarah Goldberg, Barry), she's blunt with the oblivious mother of one of her students. At drinks, she also shocks her co-workers by discussing Owen's suicide note, admitting her home now seems different and obsessing over how much she really knew her husband. That last written missive ties back into one of Beth's past traumas, and her own dealings with the end that awaits us all. When she's alone at night, she's not sure that she can trust what she sees and hears, or tell whether she's awake or dreaming. Filling her time by sorting through Owen's things, she's also unsure what to make of the eerie sketches and books about the occult that sit among his possessions. And, she's thrown even further askew when she finds photos of brunette women that could be her doppelgängers; plans for a home just like hers, but mirrored; and a cascade of tidbits that cast her memories of her marriage into disarray. Also among The Night House's savvy moves: understanding that grief really does change everything. Not only has Beth's life lost one of its brightest lights, but everything Owen once illuminated now keeps being cloaked in shadows he's not there to extinguish. She can't ask him about what she's uncovering, or feeling, or what it's digging up inside. She can't rely upon him, either, or keep trusting what she thought she'd already learned about him during their marriage. And, as being touched by death tends to evoke, she's spiralling down an a well of existential malaise. All ghost and haunted house movies are about confronting mortality, as are a long list of horror staples — zombies, vampires, serial killers, monsters and the like — and The Night House has a strong sense of terror about the the fact that life doesn't extended forever. Director David Bruckner (The Ritual) and screenwriting duo Ben Collins and Luke Piotrowski (Super Dark Times) infuse their film with foreboding, with Beth's demons, and also with a heightened state of anxiety. Cultivating an unsettling atmosphere via creepy sights, just as unnerving sounds and music cues, and Hall's showcase performance, they fill 108 minutes with the unease that lingers in us all, but that we spend the majority of our days burying deep inside. That horror craftsmanship — the bristling, needling score by Ben Lovett (The Wolf of Snow Hollow); the exactingly timed sonic assaults that litter the sound design; the sinuous and disorienting cinematography by Elisha Christian (Max Richter's Sleep) — is expertly calibrated. The Night House is a movie made with horror style as well as smarts, and it's meticulously engineered to coax the desired response out of its audience. Looking for what's not there, and also what loiters when in spaces defined by their emptiness, is one of the movie's visual charms. Bruckner enjoys teasing, too, knowing that viewers will always want more time studying Hall's face and winding through Beth's labyrinthine home, and yet never falling too in love with one or the other. And, while there's never any guessing who the camera and the film adore, he populates The Night House with well-weighted portrayals all over. There are no cartoonish bit-parts and supporting performances, with Vondie Curtis-Hall (Harriet) bringing concern and sincerity as Beth's neighbour, Stacy Martin (Vox Lux) giving a source of mystery flesh and blood, and Goldberg as nuanced as Barry fans will recognise. So many of his choices are nicely judged; however, when it comes to The Night House's plot twists, Bruckner is less careful about becoming prey to indulgence. Even though they're grounded in relatable, palpable sentiments, stirrings and musings, some of the movie's developments feel muddled, and also threaten to undercut the fine-tuned work going on elsewhere. Some of the repeated nightmarish symbols get splashed across the screen one or two too many times as well, although a love of all things hellishness is next leading Bruckner, Collins and Piotrowski to remaking Hellraiser. Here, when The Night House ruminates over psychological, existential and atmospheric horrors, it's as gripping as Hall always is. When it's less focused on being haunted by absence, and by death, it's a sillier, less shrewd and involving movie. While set in a house by a lake, it never stoops to Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock sending each other love letters, thankfully — but it also steps back from being as bleak at the last minute as it needed to be.
When Bong Joon-ho's Parasite won Cannes Film Festival's Palme d'Or in 2019, it became the second movie in as many years to nab the coveted prize for exploring class and wealth inequality through a tale of family. The year prior, when Hirokazu Kore-eda's Shoplifters scored the same gong, it too examined the ties that bind, plus the societal circumstances that conspire against and complicate such bonds. Indeed, that's the Japanese filmmaker's favourite subject. In a career spanning over three decades, he keeps being drawn to people who are drawn together, sometimes by biology and sometimes because that's simply the hand that fate has played in shaping a makeshift brood. It's fitting, then, that Kore-eda's latest Broker — his second feature since that big win — stays true to his go-to topic while also starring Parasite's Song Kang-ho. This is Kore-eda's first South Korean film, following 2019's French and English The Truth, which was his first non-Japanese picture. This is vintage Kore-eda, in fact, and it's warm, wise, wonderful, canny and complex. No matter how his on-screen families come to be, if there's any actual blood between them, whether they're grifting in some way or where in the world they're located, the Japanese writer/director's work has become so beloved — so magnificent, too — due to his care and sincerity. A Kore-eda film is a film of immense empathy and, like Like Father, Like Son, Our Little Sister, After the Storm and The Third Murder also in the prolific talent's past decade, Broker is no different. The setup here is one of the filmmaker's murkiest, with the feature's name referring to the baby trade. But showing compassion and humanity isn't up for debate in Kore-eda's approach. He judges the reality of modern-day life that leads his characters to their actions, but doesn't judge his central figures. In the process, he makes poignant melodramas that are also deep and thoughtful character studies, and that get to the heart of the globe's ills like the most cutting slices of social realism. It isn't just to make a buck that debt-ridden laundromat owner Sang-hyun (Song, Emergency Declaration) and orphanage-raised Dong-soo (Gang Dong-won, Peninsula) take infants abandoned to the Busan Family Church's 'baby box' — a chute that's exactly what it sounds like, available to mothers who know they can't embrace that part for whatever reason — then find good families to sell them to. There's a cash component, of course, but they're convinced that their gambit is better than letting children languish in the state system. In Kore-eda's usual kindhearted manner, Broker sees them with sensitivity. Even if blue hues didn't wash through the film's frames, nothing is ever black and white in the director's movies. The same understanding and tenderness flows towards mothers like So-young (Lee Ji-eun, Hotel Del Luna, aka K-Pop star IU), whose decision to leave Woo-sung (debutant Park Ji-yong) isn't easily made but puts Broker on its course. It's on a rainy night that So-young farewells Woo-sung, placing him gently in the hatch packed with blankets and soundtracked by lullabies, and leaving a note to say that she'll be back to claim him. She's nervous and tentative, peering around to see if anyone is watching — astutely so, because two groups are waiting on her significant choice. The traffickers have their plan to enact, while detectives Su-jin (Doona Bae, The Silent Sea) and Lee (Lee Joo-young, Rose Mansion) are keen to catch them. Muddying matters for both: unlike what usually happens in this situation, So-young does genuinely return for her baby. So sparks a road trip with Sang-hyun, Dong-soo and football-loving seven-year-old Hae-jin (first-timer Seung-soo Im), a runaway orphan, to meet Woo-sung's prospective adoptive parents, all with the cops on their trail as part of a six-month investigation. Broker's plot is never straightforward, nor are the questions it incites — questions about what family truly means, what governments say it's supposed to and why a ragtag group of outsiders can find a greater sense of belonging together on the run than anywhere else. Without offering any simple justifications, answers or solutions, Kore-eda ensures that the factors that lead So-young to the baby box, and Sang-hyun and Dong-soo to the illicit adoption market, constantly demand the audience's attention. "This car is filled with liars," Dong-soo says mid-trip, but it's the why behind that statement that sits at Broker's core. Like in Shoplifters before it, Kore-eda queries the forces that've made his characters who they are, brought them to this juncture and meant that the choices they're making feel like the only ones they can. Here, that includes pondering expectations placed upon women whether or not they're mums, the baggage attached to motherhood, the alternatives to baby boxes, and the stark truth that bringing life into the world and having a family aren't the same things. If he'd decided that literature rather than cinema was his medium of choice, there's no doubting that Kore-eda would've made an excellent novelist. His plots are that layered, perceptive, generous, emotional and involving. Also, in his TV adaptation The Makanai: Cooking for the Maiko House, one of 2023's streaming delights, he showed that he's equally as skilled at bringing tales from the page to the screen. But filmmaking is clearly Kore-eda's calling — and he's such a masterful visual storyteller, not to mention an affectionate movie craftsman, that it's forever plain to see why. Enlisting the great South Korean cinematographer Hong Kyung-pyo, a veteran not just of the aforementioned Parasite but also Bong's Snowpiercer and Mother, Na Hong-jin's 2016 standout The Wailing and Lee Chang-dong's sublime Burning from 2018, he gives Broker an earthy, lived-in, clear-eyed and yet eternally hopeful look. Falling rain, cramped rooms, cosy car rides, sprawling countryside, everyday phone calls: this film, and Kore-eda and Hong, make each one stun and say, well, everything. Broker's score by Jung Jae-il (another Parasite alum, and also Squid Game's composer) — plus the movie's spectacular use of Amy Mann's 'Wise Up' on its soundtrack, nods to Paul Thomas Anderson's Magnolia and all — are just as impressively and attentively fashioned. Nothing quite makes a Kore-eda feature what it is like his way with casting, though, pairing his empathetic stories with actors who gracefully live and breathe the same trait under his gaze. Accordingly, Kore-eda and the always-exceptional Song are a match made in cinematic heaven; it's no wonder that the latter deservedly earned Cannes' 2022 Best Actor prize for his latest phenomenal performance as a complex patriarch-type. Kore-eda and Bae is just as sterling a duo, too, especially when it comes to conveying yearning within this already bittersweet tale. Every heartfelt portrayal in Broker gets its audience feeling, however, including the scene-stealing Lee as a woman facing impossible choices, and pivotal baby Park.
When your nine-to-five plays out like a well-oiled machine, it can sometimes feel like each week is a little same-same. But Sydney is brimming with a fine bounty of things to experience and explore each and every day. So aside from casual laziness and a little lack of inspiration, there's really nothing stopping you from squeezing some adventure and spontaneity into your schedule. We've teamed up with Mazda3 to help you celebrate the little things that bring a sense of adventure to life. Shake things up, as we give you seven different detours to take each week in Sydney. From Monday to Sunday, enrich your everyday with one completely achievable activity that inspires you to take the scenic route as you go about your daily routine. This week, play backgammon to a soundtrack of jazz, spook yourself on Halloween and channel your inner Beyoncé. Plus, we've got your future detours sorted for the next few weeks here. All require no more effort than a tiny break from the norm — what's your excuse for not trying them all?
If there's a great Mighty Morphin Power Rangers movie aching to be made, it's the one that Elizabeth Banks thinks she's in. Playing the villainous Rita Repulsa in the latest big-screen instalment of the franchise, she can barely contain her glee as she struts around the small Californian town of Angel Grove caressing faces, ripping out teeth, croaking lines about her love of gold and even devouring the shiny substance. If only the rest of the film enjoyed the same sense of fun. The '90s series didn't take much seriously – and how could it, when it featured overdubbed action footage from Japan's Super Sentai? Alas, the bulk of this reboot seems to have forgotten that. Admittedly, given that one of this new movie's first scenes involves a teenager chatting about pleasuring a bull, it initially seems that director Dean Israelite (Project Almanac) and screenwriter John Gatins (Kong: Skull Island) haven't ditched the goofiness entirely. Appearances can be deceiving, though. Just as a group of diverse high schoolers can turn out to be colour-coded superheroes, so too can a film that features a wise-cracking robot (voiced by Bill Hader), Krispy Kreme as the source of life on earth, and monsters fighting robot dinosaurs prove a bland addition to an all-too-familiar genre. Gritty origin stories — we've been there and done that over and over again. Adolescent angst, outcasts bonding in detention and kids learning that everything's better when they're part of a team — yep, we've seen that before too. That's what happens when troubled but charismatic quarterback Jason (Dacre Montgomery), "on the spectrum" nerd Billy (RJ Cyler), ostracised cheerleader Kimberly (Naomi Scott), show-off Zack (Ludi Lin) and perennial new girl Trini (Becky G.) cross paths at an abandoned mine, find glowing coins and acquire new superpowers. Thankfully, the former Ranger turned talking wall that is Zordon (Bryan Cranston) is on hand to fill them in on their mission to save the world from Rita, who has just been fished out of the ocean after 65 million years. Most of the movie is happy to watch the diverse new quintet hang out, talk about their problems, test out their skills and bond — because, if there's one thing that Hollywood loves more that zero to hero stories, it's setting the scene for future flicks. Even if it hadn't just been revealed that the producers have a six-film story arc ready and raring to go go, those intentions are evident from the outset. One day, making sure each movie is engaging on its own, rather than acting as filler for more to come, might become a priority again. Unfortunately, that's not the case here. Indeed, by the time the fighting rolls around, you could be forgiven for feeling like it's too little, too late. The final battle against Rita and her giant metallic minion Goldar offers a welcome albeit messily-shot burst of energy, as well as a glimpse of the type of tone the powers-that-be might want to adopt if five more flicks do come down the production line. It's just a shame you have to watch Power Rangers morph from The Breakfast Club to Chronicle to Fantastic Four to Transformers in order to get there. Still, at least it's better than 1995's Mighty Morphin Power Rangers: The Movie, which is only worth revisiting if you want to see the Rangers roam through Sydney.
Some actors possess voices that could narrate almost anything, and Willem Dafoe is one of them. Move over Morgan Freeman: when Dafoe speaks, his dulcet vocals echoing atop gorgeous imagery of the world's waterways as happens in River, being entranced by the sound is the only natural response. He's tasked with uttering quite the elegiac prose in this striking documentary, and he gives all that musing about tributaries and creeks — the planet's arteries, he calls them at one point — a particularly resonant and enthralling tone. Australian filmmaker Jennifer Peedom (Sherpa) knew he would, of course. She enlisted his talents on her last documentary, Mountain, as well. Both films pick one of the earth's crucial natural features, lens them in all their glory at multiple spots around the globe, and wax lyrical about their importance. Both make for quite the beguiling viewing experience. Thanks to writer Robert Macfarlane, Dafoe has been given much to opine in River — and what he's asked to say is obviously even more crucial than the fact that it's the Spider-Man: No Way Home, The Card Counter, The French Dispatch and Nightmare Alley star expressing it. The subject is right there in the title, but the film's aims are as big and broad as an ocean, covering the history of these snaking streams from the planet's creation up until today. "Humans have long loved rivers," Dafoe announces, which seems like a self-evident statement; however, not one to trade in generalisations without evidence, River then unpacks exactly what that means. It also uses that idea as a foundation, but paired with another, which Dafoe also gives voice to — this time as a question: "as we have learned to harness their power, have we also forgotten to revere them?". The answer is blatant, lapping away at the souls of everyone who lives in a river city and passes their central watercourse daily without giving it a second thought. Indeed, that plain-as-day response ripples with even more force to anyone who has been struck by the waterways' power when natural disasters strike, a fact that hits close to home after Australia's disastrously flooded summer across Queensland and New South Wales — timing that the movie isn't overtly trying to capitalise upon, given it first started doing the rounds of film festivals in 2021, and has had its March 2022 date with Aussie cinemas booked in for months. A documentary doesn't have to tell viewers something wholly new to evoke wonder, though. Conveying well-known truths in unforgettable and affecting ways has always been one of cinema's key skills, whether working in fact or fiction. River's sentiments won't come as a surprise, but it still feels like a fresh splash of water upon a parched face. Dafoe's narration and the film in general hone in on the importance of rivers to human civilisation since its very beginnings, starting with the unshakeable reality that rivers have made much in our evolution possible. Also just as pivotal: the devastation we've wrought in response since we learned to harness all that water for our own purposes, irrigate the land far and wide, and take an abundance of H2O for granted, which River doesn't ebb away from. The prose is flowery, but never overdone; its eager quest for potent poetry, or to be mentioned in the same breath as Terrence Malick's The Tree of Life, always feels attuned to the awe it holds for its eponymous streams. It's also on par with Dafoe, Peedom and Macfarlane's work back in 2017 on Mountain, which was similarly hypnotic — and became the highest-grossing non-IMAX Australian documentary ever made, a claim to fame it still holds today. This time joined by co-director/co-scribe and feature debutant Joseph Nizeti, River's veteran trio don't simply paddle into familiar waters like they've easily charted this course — or climbed this peak — before, however. They repeat much of what they did last time, including pairing dazzling sights with a score by the Australian Chamber Orchestra, but it's fitting that there's a keen flow to this film that makes it an especially majestic and moving watch. It's there in the pace of the cinematography, as lensed by a five-strong team that includes Sherpa and Mountain's Renan Ozturk. It's evident in the rhythms of the feature's editing, too, with The Babadook, Spear, Martha: A Picture Story and The Nightingale's Simon Njoo doing the honours. As fast as a cascading waterfall at times, and as patient as a barely babbling brook at others, River couldn't take the job of honouring its subject in as many ways as it can more seriously. Thanks to those arresting visuals — spectacular footage that demands to be seen on the biggest screen possible — and the accompanying score, River was always going to earn flowery terms slung its own way. The vision is that remarkable as it soars high and wide across 39 countries, and peers down with the utmost appreciation. The swirling orchestral music, which includes everything from Bach to Radiohead, adds amply to the journey as well (even if it does occasionally leave viewers yearning for sounds as natural the movie's sights). Here, a picture truly is worth a thousand of those Dafoe-uttered words, but the combination of both is something exceptionally special. It's interesting, then, that River is the achievement it is thanks to all of its moving parts coming together so fluidly, but its imagery is also always second to none. While the combination mesmerises, only the film's visuals could tell the same tale alone — and what a story they tell. There's a cohort of documentaries that have attempted the same observational feat without any sense of spoken narrative, an approach seen at its best in the Qatsi trilogy of Koyaanisqatsi, Powaqqatsi and Naqoyqatsi, also in Baraka and Samsara, and even in recent Oscar-nominee Ascension; River reaches the same immersive and insightful levels. What a joy it is to be the film that doesn't need Willem Dafoe's narration, but is all the better for it. Even better: what a joy it is to watch that movie. And, in just-as-fantastic news, Peedom sees River as the second part of a trilogy. Top image: Pete McBride.
Since popping up over the last decade, the term 'elevated horror' has always been unnecessary. Used to describe The Babadook, It Follows, The Witch, Get Out, Hereditary, Us, Midsommar and more, it pointlessly claims that such unsettling flicks have risen above their genre. Each of these movies is excellent. They all boast weight and depth, trade in metaphors with smarts and savvy, and have style to go with their creeps and thrills. But thinking that's new in horror — that pairing unease with topical woes or societal fears is as well — is as misguided as dubbing Michael Myers a hero. With a name that makes its #MeToo-era point plain, Men has been badged 'elevated', too, yet it also does what horror has at its best and worst cases for decades. That the world can be a nightmare for women at the hands of men isn't a fresh observation, and it's long been a scary movie go-to. Still, Men stresses that fact in an inescapably blunt but also unforgettable manner. The film's setting is an English manor, where Harper Marlowe (Jessie Buckley, The Lost Daughter) hopes for a solo stint of rest, relaxation and recuperation. Processing a tragedy, shattering memories of which haunt the movie as much as its protagonist, she's seeking an escape and a way to start anew. The initial hint that she won't find bliss comes swiftly and obviously, and with a sledgehammer's subtlety. Arriving at an idyllic-looking British countryside estate, Harper is greeted by an apple tree. She plucks one from the abundant branches, then takes a bite. Soon, she's told by her host Geoffrey (Rory Kinnear, Our Flag Means Death) that it's forbidden fruit. He also says he's joking — but in this garden, a woman will again shoulder a society's blame and burdens. As overt and blatant as this early exchange is, there's an intensely unnerving look and feel to Men from the outset. Returning to the big screen after excellent sci-fi TV series Devs, writer/director Alex Garland isn't a stranger to visually stunning, deeply disquieting films that ponder big ideas; see: the complex, eerie and sublime Ex Machina, plus the similarly intricate and intriguing Annihilation. Oscar Isaac doesn't turn up this time, let alone dance. Buckley and Kinnear do turn in mesmerising and magnificent powerhouse performances amid the perturbing mood and spectacular imagery. Gender expectations also get probed and challenged, as do genres. And, things get strange and insidious after Harper tries to lap up her bucolic surroundings. Those blood-red walls sported by Harper's atmospheric centuries-old home-away-from-home? That's another glaring warning. Also discomforting: the jump-scare glitch when she video chats with her best friend Riley (Gayle Rankin, GLOW), after being told by Geoffrey — who is polite but never direct, perfectly satirising both stiff-upper-lip Britishness and the fine line between being courteous and patronising — that reception isn't the best. And, when Harper ventures out of the house, she discovers scenic treasures alongside hardly hospitable locals. She's a woman plagued by troubles that don't begin as her own, and she's forced to devote everything she has to moving past them and surviving. That Harper is played with such instinctive and physical feeling with Buckley, who just keeps going from strength to strength thanks to Beast, Wild Rose, Chernobyl, I'm Thinking of Ending Things, Fargo and her Oscar-nominated efforts in The Lost Daughter, is one of Men's biggest assets. First, there's the naked man who follows Harper through the wilderness, after she wanders through a cavernous tunnel with ethereal acoustics that's a delight one moment and boarded up the next. Then, more and more townsfolk spark alarm. There's the cop who barely believes Harper's stalker story, dismissively so. There's the teen who asks curious questions, demands attention and gets abusive when he isn't indulged. Also, there's the vicar who enquires about Harper's woes, then apportions responsibility her way for her struggles with husband James (Paapa Essiedu, I May Destroy You), while also putting his hand on her knee. The town pub's patrons are wary of her encroachment on their turf, while Geoffrey keeps making his presence known in his civil but passive-aggressive fashion. And, these men — yes, they're all men — share something beyond an unpleasant, off-putting and entitled attitude. Kinnear is also fantastic in Men because he's all men (including in scenes that make it clear that Garland saw his exceptional efforts as Frankenstein's monster in Penny Dreadful). Toxic masculinity deserves to be torn down repeatedly, and nuance needn't be part of that dismantling. The misogyny women can face openly and daily, and the way that simply existing can bring threats in the most ordinary spaces, also demands calling out loudly and strongly. Men does this. It ponders its key idea in different ways, too, including within religion and marriage. It shows how views can fester from adolescence, and within social and supposedly comforting confines. It demonstrates that just being can be fraught with distress for women, taking that reality to surreal, violent and fleshy extremes that'd equally do David Lynch and David Cronenberg proud. Also, it toys with how women are victimised in horror cinema. Garland's take on the topic is vivid and chilling — and as evocative as his past releases, plus his stellar screenplays for 28 Days Later and Sunshine — but Men also dives about as deep as noting that its namesake can be the worst, everyone knows it, and movies and life prey upon it. Still, as a piece of immersive cinema, Men is entrancing. It might be too kind to think its thematic bludgeoning is completely on purpose, but feeling like you're trapped in the same hell as Harper — in the film's present day, and in her orange-hued, positively apocalyptic, just-as-disturbing memories — is by design. Garland's work is that meticulous and sensory, and adept at conjuring up gut- and heart-wrenching reactions. It has been since he started out as the author behind The Beach, in fact. Here, he's aided by the intricate splendour, leafy and shadowy alike, lensed by his now usual cinematographer Rob Hardy (Mission: Impossible — Fallout), as well as the ominousness echoing in the choral-heavy score by fellow regular collaborators Geoff Barrow and Ben Salisbury (Archive 81). That all elevates the movie, although not because it's a higher form of horror, which it isn't. Men is as glaringly direct, primal and surface-level as a bar pickup line, and says nothing new, but its visceral and unshakeable menace still digs in hard, fast, tight and piercingly.
"What are you up to?". It's a familiar question and, when asked by a friend, it's a considerate and good-natured query that shows their genuine interest. But when it's posed by the wrong person, it comes loaded with expectations and inherent judgement — like the type you might find at a gathering of family members and life-long family pals who've turned their gaze in your direction because you're at the age where interrogating every inch of your existence has become their preferred form of sport. In Shiva Baby, this question comes in multiple ways and is asked multiple times. Attending a shiva, the wake-like mourning ritual observed in the Jewish faith, college senior Danielle (Rachel Sennott, Call Your Mother) is on the receiving end of this barrage. Stuck in a house full of enquiring minds, she feels every needling probe thrust her way by relatives and friends of relatives, all asking about her life, future, job, studies and romantic status, and even her weight. She's trapped in an everyday, immensely relatable situation, of course, but one that's never anything other than awkward — and first-time filmmaker Emma Seligman ensures that her audience feels every second of Danielle's discomfort. Danielle doesn't quite know how to answer the onslaught, partly because she doesn't want to and feels as if she shouldn't have to. She's right, obviously. Hours earlier — with the film's blackly comic dramas occurring over a single day — she was happily astride the older, richer Max (Danny Deferrari, Private Life) in a lavish Manhattan apartment. That's how Shiva Baby opens, and he gifts her an expensive bangle afterwards, as well as cash as payment. To her parents and relatives, she refers to her job as "babysitting". The film never intimates that Danielle is ashamed of doing sex work, and refreshingly so, but it gives the impression that she'd prefer not to have a conversation about it with all the busybodies already poking their noses in her direction. Accordingly, she doesn't explain that she missed the funeral because she was having sex. When she arrives at the shiva with her parents Debbie (Polly Draper, Billions) and Joel (Fred Melamed, WandaVision), she has to ask which distant relative died more than once. A recent NYU graduate in her mid-20s, Seligman writes and stages this whole scenario with the specificity of someone who knows the claustrophobia, tension, horrors and social distress these gatherings can inspire, and the cringing that happens deep inside every time. She also knows that there's never just one complication, or even just a couple. As Danielle navigates all that quizzing, she's also confronted with two people she'd prefer not to see: Max, who has his wife Kim (Dianna Agron, Glee) and their baby daughter in tow; and Maya (Molly Gordon, The Broken Hearts Gallery), her ex-girlfriend from high school who's now bound for law school. According to the Greek chorus-esque throng of voices always nattering throughout the event, Maya has done better for herself out of the two. Again, that's the level of gossiping and judgement that surrounds both women. Seligman is careful not to buff down Danielle's edges or flaws, though. This isn't a tale about a preposterously perfect millennial forced to deal with grating but societally sanctioned scrutiny, but rather a movie about someone complex, full of contradictions, sometimes smart and savvy, sometimes immature and reckless, and always just as easy to empathise with as wince at. It charts how she struggles through everyday woes that we all have, but in a microcosm of a situation. Shiva Baby is an exceptionally written film, and an astutely penned one, as proves evident in every word Danielle utters and every sentence directed her way. That's also apparent in the reality that everything around Danielle just keeps escalating in an instantly recognisable fashion. We've all been there, and more than once, even though most of us haven't stood in these exact shoes. Seligman isn't the first filmmaker to spin a cinematic tale that's exactingly, intimately specific, and also proves universal again and again. She taps into that juxtaposition masterfully, however — just as that very combination made Greta Gerwig's Lady Bird the heartfelt and honest movie it was, and this year's Oscar contender Minari by writer/director Lee Isaac Chung, too. Shiva Baby feels authentic and lived-in, which is what nudges everyone watching to feel as if they've lived it as well, and to see clear parallels with their own experiences. The roving and floating camerawork, bobbing in and around the assembled crowd all cramped within one ordinary house, helps considerably. It aims to get viewers seeing the chaos from Danielle's perspective, and achieves that goal with every shot. The fact that the score ramps up the unease, its strings rattling nerves just as effectively as every incident and altercation at the shiva, is one of Seligman's other immersive and well-executed flourishes. From the way that she radiates both stress and aimlessness in her posture, to her deadpan facial expressions, Sennott's layered performance is unsurprisingly crucial, too. Danielle is such a ball of jostling traits that even the slightest tilt in a direction other than the multitudes seen here could've upset Shiva Baby's entire mood and impact. Also outstanding is Gordon, who has stolen scenes in Booksmart and Good Boys in the past, and makes this much more of a two-hander than it might've played otherwise. Shiva Baby is a comedy, and plenty of that humour comes from how Sennott and Gordon weather a mundane but also gut-wrenchingly painful social situation with the full knowledge that their characters can only hope to simply get through it. This is a movie that lives and breathes the idea that sometimes laughter is the only option, in fact. It's anxious and nerve-wracking, and also witty and entertaining — and it leaves no doubt that Seligman, Sennott and Gordon all have big futures. They'd still all likely cringe if you asked them "what are you up to?", though.
Go on, reward yourself with something fancy. Round up some friends and drop into The Paddington for their $58 banquet. The world-class pub and cocktail bar was earlier this year awarded one chef hat. It's known for offering a no-fuss menu with showcases a perfectly roasted chook, and includes not one but three desserts, including the generously heaped chocolate mousse with salted caramel and chocolate crunchy bits.
UPDATE, February 10, 2021: News of the World is currently screening in Australian cinemas, and is also available to stream via Netflix from Wednesday, February 10. The first time that Tom Hanks was nominated for an Oscar, it was for munching on baby corn spears like they were full-sized cobs. His nod for Big stemmed from more than just that scene, but the way he handled the tiny vegetables perfectly illustrates how, at his best, he can make anything look and feel convincing. He didn't win for the 1989 comedy, and he hasn't taken home an Academy Award since he went two for two with 1994's Philadelphia and 1995's Forrest Gump; however that skill has remained a vital reason for his prolonged success. And, it applies equally to the silliest roles on his resume — early movies Splash, Turner & Hooch and The 'Burbs, for instance — and to the far more serious and subtle parts. Last year's Oscar-nominated performance in A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood typifies the latter, and featured Hanks in such exceptional form that it couldn't have been easier to see him as children's presenter Mr Rogers. His latest great film, western News of the World, also belongs in the same category. This time around, Hanks plays a Civil War veteran-turned-travelling newsman who becomes saddled with escorting a child back to her family, and he's as gripping and compelling to watch as he's ever been. Hanks' character, Captain Jefferson Kyle Kidd, is a travelling newsman in the very literal and era-appropriate sense. He journeys from town to town to read newspapers to amassed crowds for ten cents a person, all so folks across America can discover what's going on — not just locally, but around the country and the world. Then, on one otherwise routine trip in 1870, he passes an overturned wagon. Only a blonde-haired ten-year-old girl, Johanna (Helena Zengel, System Crasher), remains alive. Kidd soon discovers that she had been abducted by the Kiowa people years earlier during a raid that saw her entire family slaughtered, and was then raised as one of their own, but she has now been left homeless after more violence. The wagon was transporting Johanna to her last remaining relatives and, in the absence of any officials willing to take over — or ensure her safety until they get around to setting off — Kidd reluctantly agrees to the task. Reading the news is still part of their trek, but so is avoiding the many dangers that plague their ride across Texas' golden-hued landscape. If the sight of a wearied Hanks donning a wide-brimmed hat, sitting atop a trusty horse and galloping across scrubby plains feels unfamiliar, that's because it hasn't happened before — with News of the World marking his first-ever western more than four decades after he made his acting debut. (No, his time voicing cowboy plaything Woody in the Toy Story movies doesn't count.) Hanks is a natural fit, unsurprisingly. The grounded presence he has brought to everything from Apollo 13 to The Post couldn't pair better with a genre that trots so openly across the earth, and ties its characters' fortunes so tightly to the desolate and wild conditions that surround them, after all. As a result, the fact that News of the World eagerly recalls previous western standouts such as The Searchers and True Grit doesn't ever become a drawback. Instead, this adaptation of Paulette Jiles' 2016 novel makes a purposeful effort to put its star in the same company as the many on-screen talents who've shone in — and strutted and scowled through — the genre. Hanks takes to the saddle like he's been perched upon one his entire career, of course, and takes to Kidd's lone-rider status with the same naturalistic air as well. Indeed, Hanks plays Kidd as an everyman, another key trait that's served him excellently for years — but the ex-soldier is also a wanderer for a reason. A handful of poignant scenes help shade in the character's painful past, and make it plain why his eventual connection with Johanna is perhaps a bigger deal for him than it is for her. They're an ideal match, actually, even if it doesn't instantly seem like it. He's quiet and stoic, she's unafraid to voice her displeasure, and a father-daughter rapport slowly springs. But Hanks isn't the only actor who ensures that this pairing works so disarmingly well, with his young co-star just as phenomenal. For anyone who saw Zengel's performance in 2019's System Crasher, which won the pre-teen the German Film Prize for Best Actress, that won't come as even the slightest surprise. Also pivotal to News of the World is filmmaker Paul Greengrass, who directs Hanks for the second time following Captain Phillips. Working with a script co-written with Australian screenwriter Luke Davies (Lion, Beautiful Boy, Angel of Mine), the United 93, 22 July and three-time Bourne franchise helmer opts for a more polished visual approach than he's known for — less frenetic and jittery, and noticeably so, but with imagery that still pulsates with emotion. When Kidd and Johanna find trouble along their trek, including from a shady trio with despicable intentions, Greengrass expertly ramps up the pace without ever letting the film's classic feel subside. With stellar assistance from cinematographer Dariusz Wolski (Sicario: Day of the Soldado) and editor William Goldenberg (an Oscar-winner for Argo), he ensures that the wagon chase and cliffside shootout that ensue are as tense and thrilling as they are exacting and meticulous. And, when his central duo arrive in a town where the local heavy (Thomas Francis Murphy, The Secrets We Keep) isn't keen on any news he doesn't approve of, he never overemphases the contemporary parallels with today's political cries against the media. Greengrass also fills News of the World with a top-notch supporting lineup, including Deadwood's Ray McKinnon, True Grit's Elizabeth Marvel, Hanks' Turner & Hooch love interest Mare Winningham and The Queen's Gambit's Bill Camp — a touch indicative of the film's finesse on every level. In fact, as perfectly cast and reliably great as Hanks is here, in the latest role that's likely to see awards nominations come his way, the empathetic and absorbing movie he's in meets him at every turn. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SG_EVA58P-g Image: Bruce W Talamon/Universal Pictures/Netflix.
In a brief, early sequence, Dead Men Tell No Tales appears to achieve something quite remarkable. Immersing Captain Jack (Johnny Depp) in a bank heist, it feels like the filmmakers have cottoned onto something that helmers of previous Pirates sequels never managed to grasp: a little bit of Sparrow goes an awfully long way. Yes, even here, the rum-swilling pirate remains as ridiculous as ever. But as his crew drags a safe through the streets while he tries to evade capture, you at least get the feeling that his latest adventure will be about more than just him. Sadly, it doesn't last. The truth is, time has not been kind to Depp since the first Pirates of the Caribbean hit back in 2003 and earned him an Oscar nomination. Or, to be more accurate, Depp has not been kind to Depp. Audiences have been accosted by his Sparrow shenanigans not only in Dead Man's Chest, At World's End and On Stranger Tides, but in almost everything else he's made in between. From Alice in Wonderland to The Lone Ranger to the nigh unwatchable Mortdecai, Depp's penchant for outlandish overacting has kept him firmly in the same mode. If it was beginning to grate a decade ago, it's positively painful now. Point is, make sure to enjoy this movie's early moments while they last. While the fifth film in the franchise ostensibly endeavours to switch its gaze to the next generation, the fact remains that an overabundance of Sparrow threatens to sink the whole ship. The wobbling seafarer finds himself in demand, with young upstart Henry Turner (Brenton Thwaites) and mysterious astronomer Carina Smyth (Kaya Scodelario) both requiring his help in their hunt for Poseidon's trident. Meanwhile, ghostly pirate hunter Salazar (Javier Bardem) is also on Sparrow's trail, hungry for revenge. Captain Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush) pops up, as do a few family ties, although the plot isn't really the main focus of this dip back into choppy waters. Just as amusement park attractions are more about thrills and theme than narrative, so too is Dead Men Tell No Tales. Taking the helm after impressing with the ocean-faring Kon-Tiki, directors Joachim Rønning and Espen Sandberg soon lose control of their vessel, serving up bland nautical action alongside their predictably unbearable protagonist. Given that this franchise has been surfing a downwards trajectory from the outset, we shouldn't really be surprised by the failure of this latest outing. An initial burst of energy, a couple of new faces and Bardem reliably playing the villain are all promising signs, but they're not enough to turn sea trash into treasure. Hold onto your hats though, me hearties, as it seems the franchise won't be walking the plank just yet. Like plenty of other big-budget sequels of late, Dead Men Tell No Tales appears as though it's just treading water for another installment. Next time, maybe follow Sparrow's lead and load up on rum. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8dhAxBe3uqk
Saying that a particular actor could read the phone book and make it sound great has long been deemed high praise. It's now a cliche, but like many over-used expressions, it still remains accurate. Ask Emma Thompson to utter any words on screen, for example, and it'd likely prove enthralling. Playing a family court judge in The Children Act, she reads legal judgements in a complicated case, keeping her emotions in check when few others can. Her character gives firm, sober answers both in her professional and her personal lives — and when the justice lets her guard down on one rare occasion, Thompson literally sings. Indeed, regardless of what the two-time Academy Award winner is doing or saying, she's utterly riveting. Thompson's Fiona Maye spends her days adjudicating difficult cases involving the welfare of minors, with the 1989 U.K. law known as the Children Act her guiding light. It's a job that she approaches with the utmost care, and often under significant scrutiny. Fresh from decreeing the fate of conjoined infants in an affair that's been splashed across the newspapers, another thorny matter comes before her court. 17-year-old Jehovah's Witness Adam Henry (Fionn Whitehead) is dying from leukaemia, and refuses to have a blood transfusion because it's forbidden by his faith. His devout parents (Ben Chaplin and Eileen Walsh) support his choice, but his doctors are seeking legal intervention to administer the life-saving treatment. The decision facing Fiona might rank among the most complex of her career, weighing someone's right to life against their right to their beliefs. Crucially, she's charged with deciding whether a boy who's almost a man can make a choice between the two for himself. Thompson is a powerhouse when Fiona is quietly considering all of the details, often with a pensive yet penetrating look adorning her face. She's just as mesmerising when she's exercising the character's wit, too. But when The Children Act truly cracks Fiona's facade — in fights with her unhappy husband (Stanley Tucci) about their childless marriage, in tender moments when she flouts protocol to visit Adam on his sickbed, and when she just can't hide the stress of the situation — she's nothing short of astonishing. When Adam feels as if he's being drawn to Fiona, his reaction to her presence is easy to understand. Thompson turns in a soulful performance in a film that also earns the same description, which is hardly surprising given the movie's pedigree. The Children Act isn't just the second novel by Ian McEwan to reach the big screen this year, after On Chesil Beach. It's also the second that he has written the screenplay for himself — something that he hadn't done for nearly 25 years beforehand. On the page and in the cinema, the result is another of the writer's mature and thoughtful works, with the picture sensitively handled by director Richard Eyre. The filmmaker is no stranger to complicated matters himself, as previously seen in book-to-film adaptation Notes on a Scandal, but there's a blend of deep emotion and calm subtlety to The Children Act that borders on devastating. Credit is also due to Whitehead, best known until now for his work in Dunkirk, who ensures that Adam is as multifaceted and fascinating as Fiona. It's a portrayal that makes viewers wish for another life for his character, and certainly keeps the audience invested in Adam's fate. As an acting showcase for both the young talent and for Thompson, The Children Act couldn't be better, however the patiently shot drama also succeeds as a probing and empathetic look at a difficult topic. Like this year's festival favourite Apostasy, it ponders faith and medicine among Jehovah's Witnesses to stunning effect — and with heart-wrenching delicacy. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GWOfsnxcD3s
Stephen Hawking is an extraordinary individual. The problem with that — with all extraordinary individuals — is that over time they come to be viewed not as people but as the sum of their accomplishments. The greater the endeavour, the less we tend to know about the beating heart and restless mind behind it. Often it's not until they're visited by tragedy or professional disgrace that we're reminded of their humanity, and yet, in Hawking's case, not even the onset of motor neurone disease or an extramarital affair could detract from his almost super-human status. The Theory of Everything, then, serves as a fitting reminder that beyond the maths lies a man, brilliant — yes — but still just a man: mortal, flawed and confounded by love. Adapted from the book Travelling to Infinity: My Life With Stephen, The Theory of Everything offers us a portrait of Hawking from the perspective of his first wife, Jane (Felicity Jones), and it is, in effect, a love story. Two love stories, rather: the conventional tale between a pair of enamoured Cambridge students, and the stranger yet better known one of Stephen’s infatuation with the universe. Both are heartwarming, exhilarating and profoundly complicated. In the role of Hawking’s wife, Jones is sublime. Her performance is an accomplished blend of fierce determination to see her husband survive, and private frustration at the professional sacrifices that selflessness wrought. As for Redmayne, perhaps the most fitting compliment is that it is now impossible to look at him and not see the professor. It is an extraordinary example of transformation, both physical and performative. Redmayne, like the man he portrays, is robbed of that which most actors find essential: movement, first, then sound. Yes, there is the iconic digital voice to accompany the performance, but voiceover is no more useful to an actor at the time of recording than a ping pong ball affixed to a green screen to denote what will eventually come to be. With the disarming smile of Redford and the ‘everyman-ness’ of Hanks, Redmayne is the acting equivalent of an unputdownable book, almost daring you to try to look away. For a film entitled The Theory of Everything, the story is, in the end, almost infinitesimal. Ours is a galaxy of some 400 billion stars in a universe roughly 13.8 billion years old. On such a scale, humanity is scarcely perceptible, an insignificant evanescent blip of history in which a single, unsettled romance between two people is as close to nothing as science will permit. And yet it is also everything, because it contains within it some of the finest qualities that define the human existence — that showcase the unconquerable spirit and boundless possibilities of the mind. Hawking’s accomplishments almost defy belief, even if they’d been achieved without disability, and while they’re acknowledged in this film, the focus is not on the ‘what’, but the ‘who’ and the ‘how’. Moving, astounding and, perhaps most of all, enlightening, The Theory of Everything is a sensitive yet unsentimental engagement with genius and the actualities of love.
An antihero in a spiral of self-destruction? Here we go again. In The Gambler, Jim Bennett (Mark Wahlberg) descends into a dangerous gambling addiction from privileged heights, risking more than most people dream of. He comes from a rich family and has a plum associate professor job teaching literature. He also has two big debts to the type of people you don’t want to owe money to, is thinking about taking on a third and walks around scowling beneath his sunglasses. A good guy with good vibrations Jim is not, as his put-upon mother (Jessica Lange) would confirm. He isn’t anything special either, as he admits in rants on genius to his students — including star pupil Amy (Brie Larson) — about his failed novelist career. His story has been seen before, quite literally given that the film remakes the 1974 movie of the same name. And yet, there’s something fascinating about Jim, The Gambler, the drifting and grifting, and the overall mood of just not giving a damn. Perhaps it is seeing Wahlberg as a different type of character, relying on looks and glances rather than muscle and weapons. He’s more than a step away from the well-intentioned heroes he usually plays. He is also paired well with The Wire’s Michael Kenneth Williams and John Goodman, both standouts as two of the formidable loan sharks trying to collect their cash. It isn’t a coincidence that Marky Mark does his best work with conflicted protagonists caught in dubious situations; think Boogie Nights and the more recent Pain & Gain. He may not show the depths of compulsion others have managed, but he convinces as someone given every advantage and opportunity to make the right choice, yet constantly, selfishly and damagingly, opting otherwise. Also effective is Rupert Wyatt’s direction, a clear change of pace from making Rise of the Planet of the Apes. The script, by The Departed’s William Monahan, relies on the gimmick of time, giving Jim seven days to settle up or get killed, but Wyatt’s ‘70s-influenced look and feel — favouring patient pacing, wide spaces and lingering moments — helps patch over a story that’s often more than a bit too convenient. The Gambler isn’t without its troubles, almost unforgivingly furnishing Larson and Lange with little to do, their talents wasted on their slight roles. The film also hits the audience over the head with its blunt themes and a few silly twists, not to mention heavy-handed music cues. Pulp’s Common People as Larson’s supposedly normal Amy walks along campus? A choral rendition of Radiohead’s Creep as Wahlberg’s Jim ponders his actions? We get it. There’s a reason that antihero stories just keep on coming, feeding viewer interest in complicated folks in tricky situations. The Gambler may not sell everything about its scenario, but it embraces its grating character and its familiar circumstances with style and assurance. Like Jim, the film goes all in, never playing it safe or hedging its bets. There are worse things to take a punt on.
