There are two major joys to a good whodunnit: the puzzle and the journey. Whichever intriguing narrative is being thrust their way, audiences want to sleuth along with the characters, piecing clues together in their heads. They want to enjoy each and every one of the story's many ins, outs, twists and turns as all the details unravel, too. The greats of the genre, both on the page and the screen, understand this. It's what made Agatha Christie the queen of suspense, and what kept viewers glued to the screen during 2019's stellar mystery flick Knives Out. The makers of The Translators get this concept as well, and embrace it heartily. In fact, writer/director Régis Roinsard (Populaire) and his co-scribes Romain Compingt and Daniel Presley go a little heavy on convoluted minutiae and attempts to keep everyone guessing, but still mostly serve up an entertaining thriller. The Translators' premise is killer — in a film that doesn't shy away from a body count, but is actually more concerned with stolen pages from the yet-to-be-released last book in the bestselling The Man Who Did Not Want to Die series. The latest novel has only been seen by its secretive author, who refuses to reveal his identity to the world; arrogant French publisher Eric Angstrom (Lambert Wilson, The Odyssey), who made his entire fortune by releasing the first two hit instalments; and the nine translators the latter has assembled to prepare the text in multiple languages for a simultaneous worldwide debut. The enlisted team of experts are only being given 20 pages at a time, however, and they're all living and working in a lavish, highly secure, internet-free and heavily guarded underground bunker beneath a remote chateau for the duration of their two-month contract. Accordingly, when Angstrom receives an email threatening to leak the new book unless a huge ransom is paid, he's both perplexed and angry. Fleshing out its main players isn't high among The Translators' priorities, with Angstrom a cookie-cutter publishing sleaze and his sequestered translators all fitting clearcut types. The Lisbeth Salander-esque Portuguese twenty-something Telma (Maria Leite) arouses immediate suspicion, for example, while Italian Dario (Riccardo Scarmarcio, John Wick: Chapter 2) is dashing and enigmatic, German Ingrid (Anna-Maria Sturm) is a stickler for procedure and Chinese employee Chen (Frédéric Chau) always takes a practical approach. The film attempts to be a tad more furtive about Katerina (Olga Kurylenko, The Man Who Killed Don Quixote), a Russian who purposely dresses to resemble the fated heroine in the book the group is working on, and Englishman Alex (Alex Lawther, The End of the F***ing World), who is noticeably young — but casting choices, with the two ranking among the film's most recognisable faces, already tell the audience that these characters will stand out. Including beleaguered mother Helene (Sidse Babett Knudsen, In Fabric), stuttering Spaniard Javier (Edouardo Noriega) and cynical Greek Konstantinos (Manolis Mavromatakis), The Translators treats everyone on-screen like pawns, all in service of its twisty mystery. That's standard for the genre, though — if you're going to quickly strip a group of suspects down to their underlying motives in intriguingly heightened circumstances, it often helps if there's not too much padding on top. And while that whole tactic is glaringly apparent here, The Translators endeavours to keep proceedings humming along by zipping between new developments at a frantic pace. The movie takes time to establish its concept, naturally, and to explain everything that's relevant about the locked-in situation its titular figures find themselves in (complete with tours of gleaming subterranean pools and bowling alleys). After the groundwork has been laid, it then hurtles forward like someone furiously thumbing through an airport novel. At times, it gets a little too carried away with the exaggerated drip-fed clues, surprise reveals and reversals, but this is still a slick, swift-moving affair that ticks all the whodunnit basics. Sometimes, and usually entertainingly so, it navigates through plenty of heist flick staples as well. As a result, The Translators is understandably a story and style-driven film rather than an actor showpiece; however Roinsard has amassed a considerable group of talent. Ensuring that a mystery's characters demand the audience's attention, even if they're little more than archetypes, is another crucial aspect of the genre — and, thanks to the convincingly slimy Wilson, the slippery Lawther and the melodramatic Kurylenko especially, that's achieved. Also generally hitting the spot while remaining as overt as possible: the movie's contemplation of art versus commerce, and of literary fandom. Nothing new is spouted or revealed, particularly given the obsessiveness that some books garner in real life, but tussling with these ideas gives the feature a bit of extra bite nonetheless. That doesn't make The Translators an overly memorable whodunnit, but that's the thing with page-turners and their filmic equivalent — if you enjoy the game and the ride enough once, it doesn't matter if you won't be clamouring for a second helping. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=THXebxAFCzY
Gin lovers rejoice — Four Pillars is opening its Surry Hills digs on Friday, June 12. Since launching in 2013, Four Pillars has given Aussie gin lovers plenty to drink, including its famed Bloody Shiraz Gin, an annual Christmas-themed tipple, barrel-aged gins and even a boozy ode to Melbourne landmark The Espy. Now, Sydneysiders will be sipping the world's best gin straight from the source. It's been months of anticipation, with the Yarra Valley gin distillery announcing plans for its first permanent Sydney spot back in September last year. Part distillery, part small bar and part retail space, The Four Pillars Gin Lab is located inside a 1930s warehouse on Crown Street (across the road from Bartolo and Bills). The space will be the new home for Eileen: the distillery's 70-litre still. This means small batches of gin will be made on site — and you can get in on the action, too, with The Lab hosting masterclasses, tastings and gin gatherings in the space. For the launch, 60-minute masterclasses will be on offer for $75, which includes a G&T, tasting four gins and a tour. Step through a discreet door on the corner of Fitzroy and Crown Streets, ascend the stairwell and you'll find Eileen's Bar: the on-site speakeasy. Expect plenty of G&Ts, martinis and negronis, plus a selection of beer, cider and wine. There'll also be limited food menu — think jaffles and crinkle-cut crisps — put together by chef Matt Wilkinson, who previously headed up Made Establishment's now-closed restaurant Crofter. [caption id="attachment_771582" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Steven Woodburn[/caption] On opening weekend (June 12–13), Eileen's will be open for a maximum of 24 people, with 90-minute sittings available from 5pm, 7pm and 9pm on both days. To nab your seat at the bar, subscribe here and ticketing information will be emailed to you on June 1. For future bookings, email EileensBar@fourpillarsgin.com.au. If all of that isn't enough to excite you, you'll also be able to pick up all of Four Pillars' made-from-gin products (we're talking marmalade, Gin Pig salami and Hunted & Gathered chocolate), merchandise, books, bar kits and, of course, gins from the adjoining Gin Shop. The Four Pillars Gin Lab is opening on Friday, June 12 at 410 Crown Street, Surry Hills. The Gin Lab and Gin Shop will be open every day from 10am–6pm; Eileen's Bar will be open from 5pm–12am, Wednesday–Saturday. Masterclasses will run on Friday at 4pm and 6pm, on Saturday and 12pm, 2pm and 4pm, Sunday at 2pm and 4pm and bookings can be made by sydlab@fourpillarsgin.com.au. Top images: Cameron Mackenzie, James Irvine, Stu Gregor and Matt Jones; martini; salt and gin vinegar chips and G&T by Steven Woodburn; G&T.
Sydney is flush with world-class steakhouses. In fact, we have a whopping five entries in the top 50 of the World's 101 Best Steak Restaurants list for 2023. Liquid & Larder, the team behind two of those five standout meat emporiums, is bringing another beefy brasserie to Sydney's CBD this September in the form of Alfie's. Alfie's will arrive on Bligh Street from the crew behind Bistecca (number 32 on the best steak restaurants list), The Gidley (number 43) and The Rover. In contrast to a restaurant like Bistecca which serves up just one cut of meat for $18 per 100 grams, Liquid & Larder promises Alfie's will be a more fast-paced, affordable dining experience with an adjoining bar, a custom-built grill and a steak ageing facility. [caption id="attachment_675816" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Bistecca, Dominic Loneragan[/caption] "We love creating experiences that disrupt the status quo. Our first restaurant, Bistecca, made headlines for all the right reasons and we're not afraid to do things that challenge people's assumptions and expectations and make them pay attention," says Liquid & Larder co-founded and directed by James Bradey. While Alfie's is set to be a more accessible take on the Liquid & Larder formula it will still champion a single cut of meat: sirloin from the NSW Riverine region. Whether you're stopping in for a weekday lunch, after-work meal or relaxed weekend outing, you can pair your beef with a selection of homely sides and a selection from Group Sommelier Kyle Poole's extensive drinks list. Those looking to just enjoy a glass of wine or a cocktail with a dose of people-watching can nab a spot in the walk-in bar looking out onto Bligh Street. Former Bartender of the Year and Group Bars Manager Alex Gondzioulis has designed the cocktail menu with classic and seasonal combinations on offer alongside a martini that the team claims will be certified Sydney's coldest. [caption id="attachment_908069" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Pat Stevenson[/caption] Alfie's will open at 4–6 Bligh Street, Sydney in September. Top image: Pat Stevenson
From web searches and browsers to email and document storage, Google has its fingers in plenty of different online pies. Many of its services have become such a part of our daily lives that we no longer give them much thought, but every now and then the company has fun with one of its platforms. So far, it has brought Pac-Man, Mario Kart, Where's Waldo? and Snake to Google Maps, and Where in the World Is Carmen Sandiego? to Google Earth, for example. With Avengers: Endgame shaking up cinemas right now, it should come as no surprise that the company has the Marvel Cinematic Universe in its sights. Or, for that matter, that it's using a certain Josh Brolin-voiced supervillain and his famed gauntlet — aka the object that's been causing so much grief in the MCU in recent films. A word of warning: if you somehow haven't seen Avengers: Infinity War over the past year, Google's latest Easter egg is definitely a spoiler. If you have seen Infinity War but haven't seen Endgame, however, the company isn't giving away anything that you don't already know. All MCU fans need to do is type 'Thanos' into Google's search engine and look for his Infinity Stone-adorned gauntlet, which is currently appearing next to his name in the information box on the right-hand side of the screen. Click the image, and you'll find the giant purple figure's finger-snapping tricks wreaking havoc on Google's search results. In other words: prepare for a bit more space on the page. The Easter egg is a timely move, given how many people have been rushing to cinemas to see Endgame — and how many people are probably searching for every piece of MCU-related information that they can find online afterwards. In Australia, the film smashed the opening day box office record when it launched on Wednesday, April 24, making more than $10 million on its opening day. Top image: Marvel Studios.
Throughout the COVID-19 pandemic, NSW has never closed its borders to domestic travellers. But you'll soon risk a hefty fine — and jail time — if you enter the state from one of Melbourne's "hot zone" suburbs. While NSW's community transmission levels of coronavirus have dropped and been non-existent for "quite a while", with most of the state's new cases from returned overseas travellers in hotel quarantine, Victoria's have spiked. The southern state has seen 306 new cases since June 25 — with 73 of those recorded in the past 24 hours — and, as a result, has reintroduced strict stay-at-home orders in ten postcodes that have the highest levels. The suburbs under lockdown and whose residents are banned from entering NSW are: 3012: Brooklyn, Kingsville, Maidstone, Tottenham and West Footscray 3021: Albanvale, Kealba, Kings Park, St Albans 3032: Ascot Vale, Highpoint City, Maribyrnong, Travancore 3038: Keilor Downs, Keilor Lodge, Taylors Lakes, Watergardens 3042: Airport West, Keilor Park, Niddrie 3046: Glenroy, Hadfield, Oak Park 3047: Broadmeadows, Dallas, Jacana 3055: Brunswick South, Brunswick West, Moonee Vale, Moreland West 3060: Fawkner 3064: Craigieburn, Donnybrook, Mickleham, Roxburgh Park and Kalkallo Those in the listed suburbs are only allowed to leave their homes for one of four reasons — work or school, care or care giving, daily exercise or for food and other essentials — and risk an on-the-spot fine in Victoria for going out for anything else. This means, non-essential travel outside of your homes, let alone across the border to NSW, is off the cards for residents of these suburbs, regardless. But if you do cross the northern border, you'll need to quarantine for 14 days — just like returned international travellers — and if you don't, could be slapped with an $11,000 fine and spend up to six months in jail. The same rules apply for NSW residents who visit a hotspot, too — when you head back over the border, you'll need to quarantine and, if you don't, risk the same fiscal punishment or jail sentence. That said, you are only allowed to enter the Melbourne hotspots for one of the four aforementioned reasons — you can't go and visit friends or family. Announcing the new rules today, Wednesday, July 1, NSW Health Minister Brad Hazzard said to Sydneysiders, "If you choose to go to a Melbourne hotspot you'll be required to go into isolation here for 14 days. Don't go to Victorian hotspots." To Melburnians, he said, "Victorians from hotspots are not welcome in NSW. Do not leave the hotspot. As soon as you step foot into NSW, you'll be exposed to the possibility of six months jail and a $11,000 fine." Hazzard said a public health order implementing the changes is expected to be signed later today. You can find out more about the status of COVID-19 at the NSW Health and Victorian Department of Health and Human Services websites.
UPDATE, September 9, 2022: Dune is available to stream via Netflix, Binge, Google Play, YouTube Movies, iTunes and Prime Video. A spice-war space opera about feuding houses on far-flung planets, Dune has long been a pop-culture building block. Before Frank Herbert's 1965 novel was adapted into a wrongly reviled David Lynch-directed film — a gloriously 80s epic led by Kyle MacLachlan and laced with surreal touches — it unmistakably inspired Star Wars, and also cast a shadow over Hayao Miyazaki's Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind. Game of Thrones has since taken cues from it. The Riddick franchise owes it a debt, too. The list goes on and, thanks to the new version bringing its sandy deserts to cinemas, will only keep growing. As he did with Blade Runner 2049, writer/director Denis Villeneuve has once again grasped something already enormously influential, peered at it with astute eyes and built it anew — and created an instant sci-fi classic. This time, Villeneuve isn't asking viewers to ponder whether androids dream of electric sheep, but if humanity can ever overcome one of our worst urges and all that it brings. Dune tells of birthrights, prophesied messiahs, secret sisterhood sects that underpin the galaxy and phallic-looking giant sandworms, and of the primal lust for power that's as old as time — and, in Herbert's story, echoes well into the future's future. Blade Runner 2049 ruminated upon a similar idea in its own way, as many movies do. Indeed, Ridley Scott was hired to helm Dune before Lynch, then made the original Blade Runner instead, so Villeneuve is following him again here. Dune's unpacking of dominance and command piles on colonial oppression, authoritarianism, greed, ecological calamity and religious fervour, though, like it's building a sandcastle out of power's nastiest ramifications. And, amid that weightiness, it's also a tale of a moody teen with mind-control abilities struggling with what's expected versus what's right. That young man is Paul Atreides, as played by Timothée Chalamet in a stroke of genius casting that seems almost fated — as if returning Dune to the big screen had to wait for the Call Me By Your Name star. (The book also earned the TV miniseries treatment in 2000, and we should be thankful that a 90s iteration soundtracked by the Spice Girls' 'Spice Up Your Life' didn't ever eventuate.) When the narrative begins in Villeneuve and co-screenwriters Jon Spaihts (Prometheus) and Eric Roth's (A Star Is Born) retelling, Paul's life has been upended. House Atreides, led by his father Duke Leto (Oscar Isaac, Scenes From a Marriage), must leave its watery home planet of Caladan to take over the desert world of Arrakis. Previously run by their enemies in House Harkonnen, it's the source of the universe's melange stores, with the spice making interstellar travel possible. Spice also expands consciousness and extends lives — and, while forced by imperial decree, the monstrous Baron Vladimir Harkonnen (Stellan Skarsgård, Chernobyl) isn't happy about handing Arrakis over. To say House Atreides' move doesn't go smoothly is like saying that its new home is a tad toasty, but the tricky transition is just one of Dune's concerns. Another: the plans for Paul. House Atreides' heir, he's being trained as such by the Duke, security expert Thufir Hawat (Stephen McKinley Henderson, Devs), swordmaster Duncan Idaho (Jason Momoa, Aquaman) and weaponry whiz Gurney Halleck (Josh Brolin, Avengers: Endgame). But Paul's mother Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson, Reminiscence) hails from the Bene Gesserit, an all-female group who pull the galaxy's strings, and she sees him as its fabled chosen one. On the page, Dune sports an abundance of plot, of which this film only relays half; its title card dubs it Dune: Part One, a move only backed up post-US release when Dune: Part Two was greenlit. This opening chapter is never overladen, however, even if the Fremen — Arrakis' blue-eyed Indigenous peoples, including tribal leader Stilgar (Javier Bardem, Everybody Knows) and the defiant Chani (Zendaya, Malcolm & Marie) — are clearly poised to enjoy a larger part in the sequel. Savvily, one of Villeneuve's big choices is to let Chani's narration introduce the movie. It immediately helps to side the feature with the oppressed, rather than merely embracing several layers of power from the get-go. It also signals a concerted effort to ensure this isn't primarily a story of men. It whets the appetite for more, too, including from Zendaya — who doesn't get much screentime, but still leaves an imprint that'd stick even in sand. Treading not only in Lynch's footsteps, but in Chilean French director Alejandro Jodorowsky's — whose aborted 70s stab at Dune is chronicled in stellar documentary Jodorowsky's Dune — is a mammoth task. Big-budget slams and failed visionary attempts tend to stick in filmic memory. Plus, Lynch's movie featured a heap of other future Twin Peaks stars, and Sting, and a score by Toto (no one blessed the rains, though). Meanwhile, Jodorowsky had Mick Jagger, Salvador Dali and Orson Welles, with Pink Floyd on soundtrack duties. To match, Villeneuve boasts a magnificent cast, all doing their utmost, while Hans Zimmer's throbbing notes set an intense and ominous mood as expertly as his immensely dissimilar work on No Time to Die also did. But what gleams brightest in this take on the tale is its breathtaking visuals, meticulous plotting, a pace that gives the narrative space to breathe and an alluring sense of mystery, as well as the ability to prove simultaneously vast and intimate. When Dune's desert landscapes linger as far as the eye can see, they shimmer with heat, texture and possibility. When the film lurks in palaces bubbling with political scheming, it hews slick, muted and brutal. As lensed by Australian cinematographer Greig Fraser (Lion), these are shrewd choices — pitting the expansive, grainy yet inviting against the confined, sleek and savage — in a movie that knows how to make every image both count and feel visceral. Awe-inspiring to behold, and operatic, Dune turns a literary giant into a cinematic one. It broods brilliantly, dreams vividly and muses sharply, as Villeneuve's work (see also: Arrival and Enemy) does at his best. It stages tremendously engaging action sequences, too, as Sicario also did. The one drawback: as grand and majestic as it is, and as much of an astonishing feast for the senses as well, it could use a slightly wilder streak. Dune rarely makes surprising moves — it doesn't quite take a "walk without rhythm and it won't attract the worm" ethos to heart, aka the line from the book that's immortalised in Fat Boy Slim's 'Weapon of Choice' — but it's always thrilling, immersive and spectacular.
UPDATE, May 22, 2021: Possessor is available to stream via Google Play, YouTube Movies and iTunes. From the moment he decided to become a filmmaker, Brandon Cronenberg wasn't likely to direct romantic comedies. He could've, or period dramas, action flicks or anything else that took his fancy. He still can. However, his surname is already synonymous with not only the most unnerving genre there is, but with body horror specifically. For decades, that status was his father's doing. Including Shivers, Scanners, Videodrome and The Fly, David Cronenberg is the field's undisputed cinematic master. Accordingly, Brandon's decision to craft not one but two features in the same mould isn't the least bit surprising — but just how extraordinary 2012's Antiviral and now Possessor are wasn't ever guaranteed. If either Cronenberg wants to make a movie about passing down the penchant for visceral thrills and the ability to smartly serve up savage explorations of corporeal terrors via genes (based on their own experiences, naturally), that's something that plenty of people would watch. Brandon's current foray into body horror deploys a completely different idea, of course, although someone isn't completely responsible for their own choices here either. In Possessor, technology permits assassins to hijack the bodies of people close to their targets, letting them assume not just their identities but their physical presence to fulfil their murderous missions. Tasya Vos (Andrea Riseborough, The Grudge) is one such killer, and she is so exacting and accomplished at her job that her no-nonsense boss and handler Girder (Jennifer Jason Leigh, Annihilation) keeps trying to push her further. Such work comes with consequences, though, with Tasya slowly estranging herself from her husband (Rossif Sutherland, Catastrophe) and young son (Gage Graham-Arbuthnot, Becky). During the luridly shot undertaking that opens the movie and the assignment that the often neon-hued flick spends the bulk of its time on, Tasya also begins to realise that separating herself from the folks she's temporarily inhabiting is becoming difficult. In the first job, Tasya's consciousness takes over a woman called Holly (Gabrielle Graham, On the Basis of Sex) to gun down a high-flying lawyer at a swanky hotel party. Every mission should end with extraction via suicide — the possessed person's, as forced by the possessor, who then returns to their own bag of bones, flesh and blood — but Tasya can't pull the trigger on her host body. When she's later sent into Colin (Christopher Abbott, Vox Lux), the fiancé of the daughter (Tuppence Middleton, Mank) of a ruthless business mogul (Sean Bean, Snowpiercer), she similarly struggles to retain control. As depicted in gory detail, being able to stick a probe into your head and mind-hop into someone else's may be pure science fiction, but the younger Cronenberg intentionally apes The Matrix when he shows how the tech behind his premise operates. Our present analogues to Possessor's body-jumping concept exist in the online world, virtual reality, avatars, catfishing, trolling and even just anonymous commenting while you're tapping at your keyboard or phone, and this film makes it ferociously clear that it all has a significant cost. Cronenberg isn't just taking cues from his dad — whose 1999 film eXistenZ, also starring Jason Leigh, toyed in somewhat similar territory — or from a beloved sci-fi franchise. As many works that reflect upon humanity's true nature via dystopian futures tend to, the writer/director adds an entry to both the body horror and science fiction canons that seems like it might've appeared in a feverish dream after a life spent consuming those exact types of tales. But Possessor also always feels like a unique creation, and never a film puppeteered by its influences in the same way that Tasya pulls the strings of her marks. Cronenberg's feature boasts far too much of its own chilliness, daring and determination, as well as the filmmaker's fondness for particularly gruesome imagery, to merely be the sum of its various sources of inspiration. Possessor also has its own wellspring of nihilism pumping through its veins, not only tackling big notions in a bold and ultra-violent way, but proving deeply, gut-wrenchingly, existentially dark. It's a bleak line of thinking, positing that nothing means anything in a world where anyone can be someone else without knowing, corporate interests always take precedence over individual needs, and invading the privacy of people's homes, hardware and heads is a common and lucrative business model. It's also a wave that Possessor rides. But the film needs two people to hang these ponderings from, finding them in the sensational Riseborough and the also exceptional Abbott. With hair almost as pale as her skin, there's a ghostly look to Riseborough and a similar feel to her performance, instantly illustrating how all of Tasya's time spent secreting away in other people's guises is eroding her sense of self. Abbott, playing a man whose body has been snatched but whose mental energy refuses to quietly subside, is a ball of continued conflict and also near the best he's ever been on-screen — on par with 2015's James White and this year's Black Bear, in fact. In Cronenberg's aforementioned directorial debut Antiviral, he imagined a future where our consumption-driven urges and obsession with celebrity have evolved to a disturbing point. Not only do people willingly get infected by the same viruses that afflict their favourite stars, using the latter's very own cells, but a literal meat market exists that cultivates edible proteins from the same source. That's the kind of mind that would not only conjure up Possessor's equally disturbing world, but also ground it in so many accurate observations about modern life that sometimes it's difficult to know if it's the imagery or the ideas that's causing a deep-seated reaction. The answer is both, but Cronenberg definitely inherited his father's knack for creating a nightmarish, grisly and piercing yet sleek and haunting spectacle — and for making brilliant and brutal movies that cannot be forgotten. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFqCTIdF7rs&feature=youtu.be
Conformity rarely bodes well in cinema. Whenever everyone's dressing the same, little boxes litter the landscape or identical white-picket fences stretch as far as the eye can see, that perception of perfection tends to possess a dark underbelly. The Stepford Wives demonstrated that. Pleasantville, Blue Velvet and Vivarium all did as well. Yes, there's a touch of conformity in movies about the evils of and heralded by conformity; of course there is. That remains true when Florence Pugh (Black Widow) and Harry Styles (Eternals) navigate an ostensibly idyllic vision of retro suburbia in a desert-encased enclave — one that was always going to unravel when the movie they're in is called Don't Worry Darling. Don't go thinking that this handsome and intriguing film doesn't know all of this, though. Don't go thinking that it's worried about the similarities with other flicks, including after its secrets are spilled, either. It'd be revealing too much to mention a couple of other movies that Don't Worry Darling blatantly recalls, so here's a spoiler-free version: this is a fascinating female-focused take on a pair of highlights from two decades-plus back that are still loved, watched and discussed now. That's never all that Olivia Wilde's second feature as a filmmaker after 2019's Booksmart is, but it feels fitting that when it conforms in a new direction, it finds a way to make that space its own. That's actually what Pugh's Alice thinks she wants when Don't Worry Darling begins. The film's idealised 1950s-style setting comes with old-fashioned gender roles firmly in place, cocktails in hand as soon Styles' Jack walks in the door come quittin' time and elaborate multi-course dinners cooked up each night, with its protagonist going along with it all. But she's also far from keen on having a baby, the done thing in the company town that is Victory. It'd curtail the noisy sex that gets the neighbours talking, for starters. Immaculately clothed and coiffed women happily playing dutiful housewives in a cosy sitcom-esque dream of America generations ago: that's Wilde and screenwriter Katie Silberman's (also Booksmart) entry point; however, they waste zero time in showing how rebelling in her own child-free way isn't enough to quell Alice's nagging and growing doubts about utopia. There's much to get her querying, such as the earth-shaking sounds that rumble when Victory's men are at work, doing top-secret business on "progressive materials" out in the sandy expanse. There's the reflections in the mirror that briefly take on a life of their own, too — starting in a ballet class that's about retaining control, coveting symmetry and never upsetting the status quo far more than dancing. And, there's the pushed-aside Margaret (KiKi Layne, The Old Guard) after she disrupts a company barbecue. All the rules enforced to keep Victory's women in their places, and the cult-like wisdom that town and company founder Frank (Chris Pine, All the Old Knives) constantly spouts, are also inescapable. So is the force with which asking questions or daring to be different is publicly nixed, as Alice quickly discovers. And, it's impossible to avoid how the men band together when anything or anyone causes a bump, even their own other halves. Swiftly, Alice's days scrubbing and vacuuming her Palm Springs-inspired bungalow, then sipping cocktails poolside or while window shopping with fellow Victory spouses like Bunny (Wilde, Ghostbusters: Afterlife) and Peg (Kate Berlant, A League of Their Own), fall under a shadow — not literally in such sunnily postcard-perfect surroundings, but with shade still lingering over every part of her routine. Speaking up just gets dismissed, and Frank and his underlings (including a doctor played by Timothy Simmons, aka Veep's Jonah Ryan, who is instantly unnerving thanks to that stroke of casting) have too-precise answers to her concerns. As set to a jaggedly breathy score by John Powell (Locked Down), hell is all those drinks, chats and parties teeming with plastered-on smiles and oh-so-fake conversations. It's also the idea that deviating from the norm is an act of betrayal. Hell is the glitching existence that Alice finds herself in, in other words, as her suspicions won't subside and the urge to investigate and challenge keeps swelling. When it comes to showing the cracks fracturing Victory's gleaming facade, Don't Worry Darling moves fast — plenty of other movies have spent more time in the illusion of domestic bliss before shattering it, and Wilde smartly knows that her audience don't need to luxuriate in all that glitters to care about why nothing truly does glisten. Her audience can't miss the mirage anyway, thanks to the stunning production design and costuming, as brightly lensed by cinematographer Matthew Libatique (The Prom). Given how pristine that Alice's life literally looks, it's easy to see the flaws just as she does. It's easy to buy how speedily Alice's status quo starts to unfurl from there when the performance that accompanies it is so phenomenal. Pugh just keeps going from strength to strength since first earning attention in 2016's Lady Macbeth, in just her second film role, then backing it up with everything from The Little Drummer Girl and Fighting with My Family through to Midsommar and Little Women — and her anxious and alarmed work here is on par with her best. When Don't Worry Darling doesn't quite put its pieces together (when it gets repetitive with its psychological thrills in its midsection, primarily), she's the unbreakable glue still holding the movie in place. Forget the supposed feuds, screaming matches, affairs, boycotts and flying saliva, aka the picture's long list of highly publicised off-screen dramas; Wilde knows how to cast just as well as she knows how to lay impeccably manicured and yet insidiously tense scenes. That knack for finding the right actors for the part extends to Wilde enlisting her own talents (and visibly having a whole lot of fun in the process) as the gossipy but compliant Bunny — and, yes, casting Styles as well. The pop superstar-turned-actor is meant to pale in comparison to Pugh, in a portrayal that clicks exactly as it's designed to when the twist comes. On that subject, Don't Worry Darling's big revelation is hardly difficult to predict. It also doesn't say anything new about our patriarchal society, the power that men have long wielded over women and today's toxic perspectives. Still, that doesn't make Wilde's cautionary tale any less engaging, involving and rattling. It's imperfect, but that's apt; eschewing conformity always has to be.
There's nothing small about Hollywood's superhero obsession, with its 30-movies-deep-and-counting cinematic universes, competing caped-crusader realms, ever-growing spread across screens big and small, and determination to enlist every actor ever (and some actors more than once). That decades have passed, many spandex-clad characters have cycled through a few faces now, and reuniting past and present versions of beloved crime-fighters is the current trend: none are minor matters, either. And yet, when 2018's Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse took pop culture's favourite web-slinger back to its animated roots, it made those flesh-and-blood flicks and shows, as well as the expensive special effects behind them, look positively trivial and cartoonish. Five years later, the first sequel to the deservedly Academy Award-winning masterpiece plasters around the same sensation like a Spidey shooting its silk. Give this latest take on Stan Lee and Steve Ditko's iconic character 2024's Best Animated Feature Oscar immediately. All the money in the world can't make people in tights standing against green screens as visually spectacular and emotionally expressive as the Spider-Verse films. If it could, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse and now Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse wouldn't be so astonishing and exhilarating, look so stunning and feel so authentic. Spider-Man's eight stints in theatres with either Tobey Maguire, Andrew Garfield or Tom Holland behind the mask — and all of the latter's pop-ups in other Marvel Cinematic Universe entries, too — have splattered around plenty of charm, but they'll now always swing far below their animated counterparts. Indeed, when Spider-Man: No Way Home tried to emulate the Spider-Verse by pointing its fingers into the multiverse, as Marvel's live-action world is now fixated upon, it paled in comparison. And, that isn't just because there was no Nicolas Cage-voiced 30s-era spider-vigilante Spider-Man Noir, or a spider-robot, spider-pig, spider-car or spider-saur; rather, it's because the Spider-Verse movies truly do whatever a Spider-Man movie can. In Across the Spider-Verse, which will be followed by 2024's Spider-Man: Beyond the Spider-Verse plus a Spider-Women spinoff after that, being an imaginative and agile spider-flick initially entails hanging with Spider-Gwen (Hailee Steinfeld, one such talent with multiple superheroes on her resume thanks to Hawkeye). In most Spidey stories, Gwen Stacy is a love interest for Peter Parker, but the Spider-Verse Gwen from Earth 65 was bitten by a radioactive spider instead. Alas, with a great twist to the status quo comes not-so-great consequences for the aquamarine-haired teen drummer. Accordingly, when a battle with a Renaissance-era Vulture (Jorma Taccone, Weird: The Al Yankovic Story) gets the attention of Miguel O'Hara/Spider-Man 2099 (Moon Knight and X-Men: Apocalypse alum Oscar Isaac) and his Spider-Society, she begs to join. Before the film goes jumping between universes upon universes, however, it begins with a dazzling demonstration of how intimately linked its graphics and characters are. Gwen's dimension takes its cues from watercolours and sketches, which wax and wane in their hues and movement depending on her inner state. It's a breathtaking sight and an immensely moving touch, and Across the Spider-Verse is just getting started. For newcomers and folks with foggy memories alike, Gwen also narrates backstory details, filling in what's occurred since the first feature while playfully parodying that overused approach. When the movie slides into Miles Morales' (Shameik Moore, Wu-Tang: An American Saga) life, he takes her lead, but gives it his own spin. The first Black Latin American Spider-Man is now 15, and more confident in his spider-skills and -duties. In-between being Brooklyn's friendly neighbourhood Spidey and attending a private school that'll ideally help him chase his physics dreams, he's even guest-hosted Jeopardy!. But not telling his mum Rio (Luna Lauren Velez, Power Book II: Ghost) and police-officer dad Jefferson (Brian Tyree Henry, Causeway) about his extracurricular activities is weighing upon Miles, and he's still yearning for mentorship and friendship, especially knowing that Gwen, Peter B Parker (Jake Johnson, Minx) and an infinite number of other web-slingers are all out there catching thieves just like flies. The Spider-Verse movies take each new Spidey as a challenge to make their style and world their own, but never put aesthetics over substance. When another iteration drops in, then another and another, there's nothing arbitrary, unthinking or simple about how directors Joaquim Dos Santos (The Legend of Korra), Kemp Powers (Soul) and Justin K Thompson (Into the Spider-Verse's production designer) and their team depict anything about them. That's true in Mumbattan, where the film finds Pavitr Prabhakar/Spider-Man India (Karan Soni, Miracle Workers). And when Hobie Brown/Spider-Punk (Daniel Kaluuya, Nope) swaggers around, it's also accurate of the Sex Pistols-meets-Basquiat standout and his totalitarian-ruled universe. He isn't part arachnid, but the same applies with Across the Spider-Verse's big bad The Spot (Jason Schwartzman, I Think You Should Leave with Tim Robinson), whose fight scenes are a mind-bending wonder. Is coming-of-age angst still a part of these spider-tales? Yes. Do uncles and aunts still die, and other loved ones? Yes again. And are loss, heartbreak and great powers begetting great responsibilities still pivotal factors? That's another yes. And yet, returning writers Phil Lord and Christopher Miller (directors of The Lego Movie, too), plus Spider-Verse newcomer Dave Callaham (Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, Wonder Woman 1984), engage as eagerly and astutely with those spider-basics as the imagery springing from their script manages in every remarkable frame (all of which earn the cliche that they could and should grace walls). Across the Spider-Verse is gorgeous not only in those enchanting and entrancing visuals that couldn't better reveal who its characters are, why, and what they're thinking and feeling, but in how keenly it interrogates and engages with the comic-book medium and the page's limitless possibilities. Saying that the film resembles sticking every past Spider-Man outing in every format into a blender is a compliment; every spider-element is that well-merged. Although Across the Spider-Verse embraces being everything it can with every pixel — explodes with that idea, in fact, and makes the utmost of the freewheeling artistic freedom that animation is capable of — that isn't its message for Miles or audiences. There's so much going on in this intricate picture's kaleidoscope of intricate pictures, including unpacking what it means to have endless choices, or want to. Where the first film made it plain that being a hero isn't just for the stereotypical usual suspects and never should've been, this one champions the fact that no destiny is the same for everyone. At the same time, it conveys that being true to yourself and being in the moment is more meaningful than constantly pondering what might happen. As given voice by its first-rate cast, all imbuing their characters with a lifetime of emotion, it's no surprise that Across the Spider-Verse is so potent and infectious, or that it leaves live-action caped crusaders resigned to its shadows.
Equal parts indie-pop and '60s nostalgia, the world of Belle & Sebastian is one of bookish girls, lovelorn boys and shy awkward teenagers who skip school, hide behind their hair and practice in secret as part-time punks. Now the beloved Glaswegian musical collective are back in Sydney for one night and one night only, and playing the Opera House Concert Hall to boot. Last year saw the release of their eighth album, Write About Love, drawing on the music of '60s girl-groups, '80s indie and classic pop, and marking a return to the sounds of Tigermilk and If You're Feeling Sinister, which made their name in the mid-'90s. Long-term fans will be pleased to know that the earlier stuff is promised to be included in the set list. I'm going to throw objectivity to the winds and come right out and tell you that I saw Belle & Sebastian when they were last in Sydney in 2006, and it was without doubt the best gig I have ever seen. Lead singer Stuart Murdoch performs with the kind of awkward charm that makes you want to leap up and hug him. They pull girls up on stage to act out role plays and romance with the band as they play, and make you understand why their consistently brilliant music has inspired over a decade's worth of adoration. You should go see them. https://youtube.com/watch?v=GuKuw71YBbI
To the north of Bongil Bongil National Park is Sawtell Beach and headlands, where the coastal views are worth a visit any time of the year but are most popular during whale watching season. You can view the humpback migration from a grassy picnic spot as the headlands allow both northern and southern views. Just ten kilometres from Coffs Harbour, the beachside town is also a popular spot for a swim or surf. While you're here, check out Sailors Bay at low tide, when you'll be able to reach the tidal rock pools. Image: Destination NSW
Battleship is a movie based on a board game. That mightn't seem all that strange at first, given how often we see films based on video games these days, but then you stop for a moment and realise: board games don't have plots. Admittedly the absence of plot has never stopped Hollywood before, but it still threw up a mighty challenge to whoever was the hapless screenwriter tasked with adapting nothing into something: "What’s my source material, boss?" "Well, we've got an instruction pamphlet, a few pieces of plastic and … actually yeah, that's it. Good luck buddy." The only other time it's ever been attempted was 1985's Clue, based on the popular Hasbro board game Cluedo, yet despite its impressive cast, that film was neither a financial nor critical success. Then, of course, there was 1995's Jumanji; however, that was a movie about a board game, not based on one, and it wasn't all that crash hot either. So what's to be made of Battleship, the $200 million movie based on the board game Battleship? Those who've played it before might recall such memorable lines as: "C-9…….miss" and "B-11……miss", and it probably won't come as too great a surprise to learn that Battleship the movie doesn't offer up a whole lot more in the dialogue department. At one point, for example, our hero whispers the classic line, "I've got a bad feeling about this" — despite the fact that by the time "this" has happened, the Earth's already been invaded, Hong Kong's been decimated, his two accompanying naval destroyers have both been sunk, his brother's been killed and he's been trapped inside a giant alien force field for the better part of the morning. What Battleship does deliver, however, is some seriously impressive action sequences and one jaw-dropping special effect after another (think 'Transformers on water', minus the Shia Labeouf and plus the Rihanna). In simplest terms (the only ones available here), aliens invade Earth near Hawaii, and the only people in place to stop them are the US and Japanese navies taking part in some friendly war games. Earth's hero is played by Taylor Kitsch (last not seen in John Carter): a brash, young naval officer dating the supermodel daughter of Fleet Commander Liam Neeson (in a categorical 'pay-check performance' kind of cameo). The film also features True Blood's Alexander Skarsgard, a rock-heavy soundtrack dominated largely by AC/DC and a WWII battleship that at one point pulls a handbrake turn. And that's pretty much it. Seriously. It's an utterly dumb movie, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't also loads of fun to watch.
Lior's sophomore album, Corner Of An Endless Road has been described as “Led Zeppelin meets Nick Drake at a teahouse in the Middle East sharing a hookahâ€. Elaborate melodies and fancy water pipes aside, he is also the man responsible for penning the wedding-favourite hit, This Old Love, from his debut album, Autumn Flow. Earlier this year the singer-songwriter collaborated with shadow artists, Stephen Mushin and Anna Parry, the same dynamic duo behind the puppetry in the video to his song and duet with Sia, I’ll Forget You, and Lior is now set stage a special encore season of the Shadows and Light concerts with accompaniment from the Tailem String Quartet.A percentage of proceeds from the series will be donated to Youngcare - an organisation working towards constructing state-of-the art purpose-built facilities for young adults who require 24-hour care.
Slow living, slow travel, slow TV — everywhere we look these days, people are wanting to take things slow. That's why we've teamed up with American Honey to create The Slow Lounge: an exclusive, invite-only hideaway curated to help you and your mates disconnect from the outside world and stay connected in the moment. At The Slow Lounge, you won't need to fight over the best intimate nook — here, every seat is the best in the house. If you're on the list, you'll unwind in style with your favourite people with a deliciously smooth American Honey, soda and fresh lime, set to a live soundtrack provided by some of the most exciting up-and-coming Australian musicians, including the jazzy sounds of Honey Point and golden hour live sets by indie pop darling Essie Holt (pictured above) and acclaimed singer-songwriter Carla Webhe. You'll also be gifted all the ingredients you need to enjoy the perfect American Honey drink at home, with each guest given a swag bag that also features a bespoke honey-scented candle and a set of conversation coasters. The Slow Lounge is taking place at a secret Sydney location from August 27–28, perfect for a golden end-of-winter gathering. And you can win your way in, for yourself and four mates, right here. [competition]859889[/competition] Images: Charlotte May (Pexels)
With over 85 percent of textiles bought in Australia ending up in landfill each year, the environmental impact of this wastefulness cannot be underestimated. Join in on this free workshop at the Museum of Contemporary Art and you can learn how to turn your tatty t-shirts into an awesome tote bag or plant hanger as this drop-in class provides you with all the required know-how. Led by an expert team of artist-educators, bring your own t-shirt or use one that's been saved from landfill. There's no finicky gluing or sewing involved, either. Free yourself from consumer habits and learn about the impact of the textile industry at this fun and creative workshop. You can drop-in at this workshop between 11am–4pm on Saturday, June 1 and Sunday, June 2. No pre-booking is required. This event forms part of the Museum of Contemporary Art's Conversation Starters 2019: Temperature Rising program. To see the full program, head this way. Image: Sandra via Flickr.
Divine followers of fast food, gather ye round for the angelic choir of Melbourne-based burger, hot dog and hot-chip chain, Lord of the Fries, which has opened the doors of their brand new Sydney venture unto the flocks of George Street. Doth divinity still reign supreme in each deep-fried and juicy bite? It sure doth. That is if you can handle the queues, of course. That’s right, it has come as no surprise that the love-child of Melbourne founders Mandy and Mark, two fry fanatics on a quest for the perfect potato snack, is already attracting crowds far and wide to see if their first interstate store is up to scratch with the original. If you still don’t know what I’m talking about, Lord of the Fries is and has been big in Melbs for some time. Now, it’s big in Sydney too. As the name would suggest, you go there for the fries and the array of heavenly sauces that are layered on top. Too much? Well, you won’t think so when you nab yourself a box ($6.95) and get the East L.A. sauce ($1.50) — a thick, melted cheese and jalapeno concoction — smothered on top. But if you’re simply somewhat of a chip connoisseur, on their own is fine, but you’re missing out on something special here. For a more substantial feed, nab yourself a burger meal ($14.95), consisting of the aforementioned box of fries and choice of any burger. The Original/Melbourne burger was like a thicker, bigger and better Maccas burger while the Parma/Bombay packed a deliciously exotic punch. The hot dogs looked good, although what with the undulating masses waiting behind, there was minimal time to have a proper gander. So overall, yes, Lord of the Fries has succeeded to transfer its Melbourne goodness over to Sydney and we may all rejoice. Hallelujah. Just be prepared for a cramped service area and a long wait.
This conversation delves into the relationship between art and its underestimated cousin, craft. Far from living room knits and quilts, there’s a mountain of innovative products finding a lucrative market online. Through platforms like Etsy and Instagram, these entrepreneurial makers are carving out new business models and satisfying the demand for a more local touch. Held at Koskela in Rosebery, the panel will consist of Emma Rutherford, Luke Temby of CUPCO, Rebecca Chua of Chuchu Designs and design writer Gillian Serisier (MC). This event is one of our top ten picks of Art Month. Check out the other nine here. Image: Courtesy of Rebecca Chua, styling and photography by Emma Duckworth and Abbie Melle.
Anyone with even a passing interest in gaming will be familiar with the concept of the ‘boss arena’. Be it Mario or Mass Effect, there’s an intuitive moment experienced by every player when their character suddenly strolls into a vast open space surrounded by high, insurmountable walls and they're gripped by an immediate, unnerving sense that things are about to get a whole lot worse. Whether or not this idea directly informed the production team of The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part II, the same unsettling sensation rears its head throughout the franchise’s final installment and will leave audiences scrambling for their invisible 'save buttons' time and time again. An abandoned city square, a deserted mall and a sewer system all play host to these phenomenally tense and terrifying sequences (so much so in that last sequence that parents were taking their children out of the screening). Indeed, this is a fittingly bleak and violent conclusion to a franchise where anything less would have represented a disappointing commercial concession. To end on a positive note would have offered an incompatibly upbeat finale to this tale of dystopian bloodsport in which children are forced to kill for entertainment and political intimidation. Even the satirical pomp of characters like Elizabeth Banks’s Effie and Stanley Tucci’s Caesar has been stripped bare, so much so that you could almost be forgiven for thinking Mockingjay II was filmed in greyscale. Gone, too (thankfully) is the teenage angst that mired much of the previous film in near unceasing dullness. In fact, everything here is kept mercifully simple: Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) intends to kill President Snow (Donald Sutherland), but to do so she and her team must first navigate the perils of the Capital minefield. That’s it. That’s all that’s going on here. And the film is much stronger for it. The problem, of course, with such a dark and joyless approach is that portrayals of gritty, hardened soldiers can easily be mistaken for bored or lacklustre performances, and Mockingjay II is no exception. Sutherland, in fact, appears to be the only one enjoying himself, both as a character and a performer. His wry smile and pointed barbs earn almost every one of the sparse laughs throughout, leaving everyone else to move from scene to scene as if in a communal drunken daze. On the rare occasions where emotion does surface, it’s invariably from one of the supporting roles. To its credit, Mockingjay II doesn’t hold back in its depiction of war crimes, and its final stages boast a moment that is genuinely shocking, both narratively and visually. None of the films that have followed the original have been able to match it – either in terms of story or performance – but the finale is not far behind. A fittingly bleak and violent conclusion to a compelling if overlong young adult franchise. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n-7K_OjsDCQ
That time of year has rolled around again and we're all looking forward to many catch-ups with mates and family over glasses (or bottles) of vino. Not to mention there's the office Secret Santa gifts to be bought and the inevitable conversation with the siblings around who's picking the wine to impress the folks. And what you'll be drinking at Christmas lunch, no less. Thanks to Vivino and its hardworking community of wine lovers who voted in the inaugural Aussie Vivino Community Awards, we've handpicked the best of the best from the winning wines, so you can stock up on these top drops for all the silly season shenanigans you have planned, from a reasonably priced riesling to crack open with the crew to a $141 biodynamic cabernet blend that'll impress even the stubbornest of sippers. 2019 GRANT BURGE BAROSSA INK SHIRAZ, BAROSSA VALLEY SA ($17) With almost 1500 ratings, the Grant Burge Barossa Ink Shiraz was rated as the top vino in the Vivino Community Awards' wines under $25 category. Aussie wine lovers must know what they're talking about as this wine is quintessential Barossa — think Christmas cake spices with notes of plum and luscious blueberry. This wine is perfect for those who are always stuck on how to impress dad at family dinner. A crowdsourced success. Purchase Grant Burge Barossa Ink Shiraz via Vivino. 2020 TIM ADAMS RIESLING, CLARE VALLEY SA ($21.99) In the early 2000s, a group of forward-thinking winemakers in South Australia's Clare Valley were frustrated with cork-related faults ruining the vibrancy of their rieslings, so they banded together, bucked conventional norms and bottled their wines under Stelvin closure (screw caps). Twenty years later, screw caps are the norm and the future of Australian rieslings has never looked so bright. To experience the freshness and vibrancy of Clare Valley riesling, look no further than this archetypal example from Tim Adams. Bursting with flavours of freshly cut citrus and hints of white florals, this drop is the perfect accompaniment to a serve of Sydney rock oysters. Hot tip: you can even drizzle a bit of the wine on top of the oyster instead of lemon. Purchase Tim Adams riesling via Vivino. 2019 UNICO ZELO ESOTERICO, RIVERLAND SA ($24.99) Unico Zelo's Esoterico really lives up to its name, having developed a cult-like following over the years. At first you'd be excused for not knowing what to make of it on account of its slightly hazy colour and the kind of pronounced texture you only see in red wines, but then you're hit with pretty and delicate florals from the zibibbo and gewurztraminer grapes. If you've never understood what all the fuss is about with skin-contact wine this is a fantastic entry point, and a perfect one to crack open with a charcuterie board on a sunny afternoon with mates. Purchase Unico Zelo Esoterico via Vivino. 2018 LANGMEIL VALLEY FLOOR SHIRAZ, BAROSSA VALLEY SA ($30) Langmeil boasts a 125-year winemaking history with their dry-grown vineyards believed to be the world's oldest surviving shiraz vines. While the wine from that particular vineyard from this prestigious winery will set you back $145, they have released a wine that is a little more approachable for everyday drinking. The Valley Floor shiraz is crafted from fruit grown by over 20 families from across the Barossa's 30 original villages, still being made in the historic Langmeil winery. A piece of South Australian wine history at a fraction of the price, the perfect gift for the old school wine lover in your life. Purchase Langmeil Valley Floor shiraz via Vivino. 2018 SAILOR SEEKS HORSE PINOT NOIR, HUON VALLEY TAS ($67.10) From small vineyard plantings in Tasmania's Huon Valley comes a pinot noir by husband-and-wife winemaking duo Paul and Gilli Lipscombe. Fruit for this exceptionally well-crafted wine comes from the estate vineyard, planted by the duo's own hands in 2005. It's not hard to see why this wine clocked in at 14th place in Aussie wines priced between $25–80. It has blackberry and raspberry notes intermixed with a tension that causes you to reach for the bottle before you've even finished the glass in front of you. This small-batch premium pinot noir has become one of the most sought-after wines on the mainland, fought over by sommeliers and wine lovers alike. Purchase Sailor Seeks Horse pinot noir via Vivino. 2018 CURLY FLAT PINOT NOIR, MACEDON RANGES VIC ($72.60) There's pinot noir, and then there's Macedon Ranges pinot noir, and no one sets the gold standard of this wine varietal from this region better than Curly Flat. This light red is a medley of aromas and flavours, from violets and black cherries on the nose (with just the tiniest hint of dried rose petals) to balsamic strawberries and slight savoury notes of forest floor and slate. Meet duck pancakes' newest accompaniment. Purchase Curly Flat pinot noir via Vivino. 2019 TOLPUDDLE CHARDONNAY, COAL RIVER VALLEY TAS ($95.33) This wine is touted as the benchmark for cool-climate Aussie chardonnay. Using grapes from vineyards planted in Tasmania in 1988, this exceptional chardy is made by celebrated South Australian winemaker Adam Wadewitz (of Shaw and Smith fame). This drop is rarely available for long after its release. But you don't have to take our word for it — it's currently rates 4.4 out of five on Vivino, and it came in second in the Vivino Community Awards' top ten Aussie whites category. If you find some, buy it ASAP and impress the family with it on Christmas Day — and convert the anything-but-chardonnay drinkers in your household. Purchase Tolpuddle chardonnay via Vivino. 2018 CULLEN 'DIANA MADELEINE' CABERNET BLEND, MARGARET RIVER WA ($141) Vanya Cullen, the current winemaker of Cullen Wines in Western Australia (and often dubbed as Australia's High Priestess of Biodynamics) has named her flagship cabernet blend after her mother, Diana. What makes this wine so unique — and absolutely worth the price? The fruit comes off vines dating back to 1971, and the care and great attention it takes to produce this wine are unparalleled. The fruit was picked according to the biodynamic calendar dates, with one of the harvests occurring on a full moon. Due to this vino's structured nature, it'll cellar for up to 50 years (if you have that kind of patience). Purchase Cullen 'Diana Madeleine' cabernet blend via Vivino. Download the Vivino app and start discovering more ideal summer sips to stock up on — then buy them straight from the app. For more wine inspo, check out this year's Vivino Community Awards.
When working nine to five isn't panning out for Raylene 'Red 'Delaney (Krew Boylan, A Place to Call Home), she does what all folks should: takes Dolly Parton's advice. Pouring yourself a cup of ambition is never simple, but when you're a Parton-obsessed Australian eager to make all things Dolly your living, it's a dream that no one should be allowed to shatter. That's the delightful idea behind Seriously Red, which pushes Parton worship to the next level — and idolising celebrities in general — while tracking Red's quest to make it, cascading blonde wigs atop her natural flame-hued tresses and all, as a Dolly impersonator. That's a wonderfully flamboyant concept, too, as brought to the screen with a surreal 'Copy World' filled with other faux superstars; enlisting Rose Byrne (Physical) as an Elvis mimic is particularly inspired. Seriously Red doesn't just get its namesake adhering to Parton's wisdom, whether sung or spoken over the icon's 55-year career. It also splashes the country music queen's adages like "find out who you are and do it on purpose" across its frames as well. They help give the film structure and assist in setting the tone, as this rhinestone-studded movie comedically but earnestly explores two universal struggles. Everyone wants to be true to themselves, and to work out what that means. We all yearn to spend our days chasing our heart's real desires, too. As penned by Boylan in her debut script, and directed by fellow feature first-timer Gracie Otto (after documentaries The Last Impresario and Under the Volcano, plus episodes of The Other Guy, Bump, Heartbreak High and more), Seriously Red spots a big question lurking in these missions for Red, however — because what does it mean when being yourself and scoring your dream gig means being someone else? When the film begins, Red isn't loving or even liking her lot in life, and definitely doesn't want to keep the status quo on purpose. Tension lingers in her real-estate valuer job and at home, where she's turned her mum Viv's (Jean Kittson, Fat Pizza: Back in Business) garage into a flat — and the daily tumble out of bed and stumble to the kitchen, then to work, is a grind. Even worse, she's tricked into showing up to the company party in her Dolly regalia to be the butt of the office's jokes, although it does get her an in with an impersonator talent agent. Teeth (Celeste Barber, The Letdown) sees an opportunity, Red is willing to take it, and employment and a whole new world follows. Still, Viv can't see how going full Dolly can pay the bills, withholding her support. Also at home, Red's friendship with her best mate Francis (Thomas Campbell, Love and Monsters) feels the strain. Just like its protagonist, embracing this trip down the impersonator rabbit hole — using a Parton-shaped key and plenty of pluck — is easy for Seriously Red. It revels in the look and feel of all things Dolly from outfits to paraphernalia; if something is adorned in a Parton-esque way, this film will likely always love it, short of the flick becoming a movie version of Dollywood. Plunging into the Copy World happens with just as much spirit and affection, and with gags like Dannii Minogue as a Dannii Minogue impersonator. Trevor Ashley's Barbra Streisand tribute gets a whirl, and everyone from Elton John and Freddie Mercury to Madonna and George Michael scores a doppelgänger. If The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert and Muriel's Wedding spring to mind — because movies about taking to the stage in big, camp theatrical displays based around music legends has long been in Aussie cinema's DNA — there's a tangible link to the former courtesy of Oscar-winning costume designer Tim Chappel. It should come as no surprise, too, that Boylan's script has Red team up with a Kenny Rogers impersonator (Daniel Webber, Billy the Kid), including to do more than croon 'Islands in the Stream'. In the business, as she flits around the country and even the world busting out her best Dolly, there's no shortage of people who respect the gig — Bobby Cannavale (The Watcher) plays Wilson, an ex-Neil Diamond impersonator-turned-agency owner, as another example — but Seriously Red's Kenny is something else. He lives like his hero 24/7, right down to the attire, locks and facial hair. He's also made 'The Gambler' singer's moniker legally his. And, he's the impetus for Red making a similarly hearty commitment, then also evaluating whether Dolly or Red should actually come first. Glimmering with the same fantastical vibe that gleefully silly recent new instant comedy classic Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar also boasted — cinematographer Toby Oliver lenses both, roving over jewel tones here instead of pastels — there's more verve and attitude than poise to Seriously Red. That always feels fitting. There's a scrappiness to being even the best impersonator, as Red's Parton shows; over and over, she sums up the bulk of the movie. While the film can fall on the awkward side of comic, and its dramatic beats aren't quite in tune (see: Red's conflicts with her family and friends), that can-do attitude keeps shining. Of course a feature about taking a big swing does that itself again and again. Of course a picture about adoring and taking life advice from a legend that has never let anyone else define her, and has proven the epitome of kindness-fuelled resilience over her time in the spotlight, dances to its own song as well. Parton's music isn't always as bright as her smile, though, a truth that Seriously Red also works with. This Dolly-approved flick — with her likeness so prominent and her music instrumental, including sung by both Boylan and the artist herself, it couldn't have happened without Parton's seal of approval — grapples with Red's lows as well as highs. It shows the impact that her self-centred behaviour has on others, too, and the way the world often beams anything but sunshine her way. As an actor, Boylan weathers those ebbs and flows with adaptability and commitment. As a performer playing an aspiring performer whose whole routine is based on another performer, she ensures that Red's raw edges are never buffed away. As a writer, Boylan noticeably leans on tropes, but Seriously Red doesn't need to beg its viewers to have an entertaining time.
What's charm got to do with it? In What's Love Got to Do with It?, plenty. A rom-com with absolutely nothing to do with Tina Turner, the song that instantly springs to mind or the 1993 biopic about the singer's life, this British affair from the producers of Four Weddings and a Funeral, Notting Hill, the Bridget Jones films and Love Actually — and the more-recent Yesterday and Cyrano, too — thrives on the charisma of its leads. It has to. Lily James (Pam & Tommy) and Shazad Latif (Profile) are nicely cast, but they're also all-so-crucially required to help patch over the movie's flagrant formula. Indeed, as penned by journalist-turned-producer-turned-screenwriting first-timer Jemima Khan, and helmed by Elizabeth and Elizabeth: The Golden Age filmmaker Shekhar Kapur, What's Love Got to Do with It? interrogates its own premise in its template-like nature. Is it better to stick to a tried-and-tested route or let surprises reign? In the way it's made and the tale it tells, at least, this flick repeatedly advocates for the former. For documentarian Zoe (James) and oncologist Kazim (Latif), childhood pals, neighbours and each other's first kiss, What's Love Got to Do with It?'s big battle isn't about romantic comedies, of course. And, it certainly isn't about whether the latest entry in the genre should paint by numbers or dare to diverge from the trusty path. But the same conflict underscores Zoe and Kaz's differing approaches to love and marriage, as Zoe is shocked to discover at Kaz's brother Farooq's (Mim Shaikh, Doctors) wedding. That's where the man she's known her whole life announces he's getting hitched, even though he hasn't met someone. Happy to skip the chaos of dating, not fussed with casual hookups, and buoyed by his parents Aisha (Shabana Azmi, Halo) and Zahid's (Jeff Mirza, Eternals) success with arranged nuptials, he's putting his trust in assisted marriage to find someone to share his life with. What's Zoe got to do with Kaz's decision, other than being a friend by his side? There's the glaring answer and then there's how Khan's script keeps her central pair in each other's orbit other than just as mates. As Zoe gets knocked back for funding for her next project, she doesn't blink before suggesting examining assisted marriages in Britain instead. (My Big Fat Arranged Marriage is her producers' dream title.) Kaz is understandably reluctant, but soon Zoe's camera is capturing everything, including the parade of events that her mother Cath (Emma Thompson, Roald Dahl's Matilda the Musical) chats, drinks and dances her way through. Making a doco out of Kaz's quest to tie the knot can't help Zoe avoid her mum's stereotypical pestering about her own romantic prospects, however, complete with setting her up with family vet James (Oliver Chris, Emma). Due to rom-com logic, convention and expectation, there's a dose of My Best Friend's Wedding to What's Love Got to Do with It?, although Zoe doesn't ever try to sabotage Kaz's big day. There's also more than a dash of When Harry Met Sally… to Kapur's first feature in over a decade and a half (other than a segment of New York, I Love You) as Zoe and Kaz constantly discuss their varying ideas about relationships. And, to zero astonishment as well, there's pure and simple obviousness at work. Almost any rom-com focused on these two characters, enlisting these two actors, and benefiting from James and Latif's easy chemistry — and their innate likeability in both parts, especially Toast of London and Toast of Tinseltown's Latif — is going to do exactly what the audience not only wants, but what What's Love Got to Do with It?'s genre has primed them for. Accordingly, the real questions at the heart of What's Love Got to Do with It? aren't whether Kaz's assisted-marriage plan will succeed, or if this is a sensible way to meet one's other half in these always-swiping times. A culture clash comes with the setup, with Kaz's choice hailing from his Pakistani heritage, but diving into what that tradition means for better and for worse is a mere subplot. Rather, the film asks the most straightforward query it or any romantic comedy can or ever does. The specifics vary from flick to flick, but it's the same predicament. Here, it plays out like this: how will employing Muslim matchmaker Mo (Asim Chaudhry, The Sandman), video chatting with law student Maymouna (Sajal Aly, Ishq e laa) and following what happens from there — right through to three days of colourful ceremonies in Lahore, which Zoe records and the excited Cath wouldn't miss for the world — obstruct and complicate Zoe and Kaz's unspoken but plain-as-day feelings for each other? Inevitability drips through every moment of this sunnily shot and cosily staged movie as a result, but thankfully doesn't breed contempt. Again, that's thanks to James, Latif, their engaging performances and their comfortable rapport as What's Love Got to Do with It? embraces being exactly the type of fluffily predictable romantic comedy it is. That said, Khan and Kapur do take risks, but their film ends up worse for it. Although it's an eagerly knowing touch to have a former on-screen Cinderella play a woman who frames her love life as revised fairy tales, those narrated montages — popping up intermittently and told as bedtime stories to children, but echoing over Zoe's bad dates and morning-after regrets — flounder and feel like filler. What's Love Got to Do with It? doesn't judge Zoe's romantic exploits, nor should it, just as it avoids the same with Kaz — but, while it's accepting of amorous mess and assisted marriage alike, it isn't always certain in its tone or thoughtful with its supporting characters. Thompson's role proves an inescapable example, as much of a treasure as the great English actor is (see: her phenomenal work in 2022's Good Luck to You, Leo Grande, plus too many other past parts to count). Instead of exuberant, free-spirited, or even a gleefully silly example of an older generation broadening their world, Cath comes off as one-note and cartoonish. A white woman whose personality is defined by her fixation on another culture was likely to, sadly, in a movie that's fine with skewing broad and affable over shooting for sparks.
Each year, at the turn of winter to spring, Hindus celebrate Holi, a festival exalting colour that leaves participants saturated in bright hues. Holi serves as the inspiration behind the Color Run, a unique 5k race that has taken the U.S. by storm and is now headed to Australia. Runners are invited to join the "3.1 miles of color madness" that comprise the untimed Color Run purely for the sake of a good time. The only race requirements are that all participants wear a white t-shirt and be willing to be greeted with a blast of coloured pigment upon completing every leg of the race. The pigment, made of 100% natural food-grade cornstarch, is colour-specific for each portion of the race. After the first kilometre, runners are splattered with yellow; after the second, they are doused in blue. And so it continues until the end of the 5 kilometres, when each runner is covered head-to-toe in a brilliant mish-mash of every hue imaginable. So far only three Australian dates have been announced, but organisers have promised events for most Australian states in late 2012 and early 2013 The Color Run Australia dates:Melbourne - November 25, 2012 (Register)Sydney - February 10, 2013Perth - February 17, 2013Adelaide - TBCBrisbane - TBCCanberra - TBCGeelong - TBCGold Coast - TBCNewcastle - TBC Stay up to speed with further announcements via The Color Run Australia Facebook page. https://youtube.com/watch?v=ZWsfHC-0d6A
Director Jonathan Glazer (Sexy Beast, Birth) puts mankind under the microscope in his enigmatic sci-fi thriller Under the Skin. Unfolding like an arthouse version of Species, the film stars Scarlett Johansson as an extraterrestrial creature who travels around Scotland seducing human men. A cold, disturbing, impenetrable piece of filmmaking, it's a movie that will understandably alienate mainstream audiences, even as it carves a place for itself as a modern-day cult classic. Reversing typical images of sexual predation, Glazer puts Johansson — a pale-skinned, dark-haired female — in the driver's seat of an anonymous white van. The bulk of the film takes place in the vehicle, as Johansson cruises the outskirts of Glasgow in search of her next victim. What happens to the men once they're ensnared is one of many pieces of information Glazer initially withholds, playing with our fears and assumptions and cultivating a sickening sense of dread. Aesthetically, Glazer adopts a naturalistic style that's sundered by moments of Kubrickian intensity. Lingering shots of pedestrians have an air of dispassionate voyeurism — at times it feels as though we too are from another world, viewing our own species from afar. A soundtrack of mechanical rumblings and synthesised screeches sharpens the already menacing atmosphere. Particularly haunting is the track that accompanies the seduction sequences, which rises and falls with mesmerising rhythm. Johansson's performance is the chilling antithesis of her recent work in Spike Jonze's Her. Although frequently frightening, there's a genuine sense of otherworldliness to her characters that prevents us from seeing her as a straight-up villain. More than once, you wonder how aware she is of the consequences of her actions, a question that, as the movie continues, leads to unexpected feelings of empathy. It's a credit to Johansson that she's able to walk that line. Her victims, meanwhile, are played by actual Glaswegian hitchhikers, picked up by Johansson and filmed on hidden cameras (consent was sought afterwards). The guerrilla approach heightens the movie's realism, as the 'actors' are legitimately unaware of the gruesome fate that awaits them. Creepy and glacially paced, Under the Skin is certainly not for everyone; it's easy to imagine viewers enticed by the prospect of seeing a nude Scarlett Johansson storming out of the cinema and asking for their money back. But for anyone keen on expanding their cinematic horizons, Glazer's latest is the best film of 2014 so far. https://youtube.com/watch?v=7S1yhSp5jaI
Something delightful has been happening in cinemas in some parts of the country. After numerous periods spent empty during the pandemic, with projectors silent, theatres bare and the smell of popcorn fading, picture palaces in many Australian regions are back in business — including both big chains and smaller independent sites in Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane. During COVID-19 lockdowns, no one was short on things to watch, of course. In fact, you probably feel like you've streamed every movie ever made, including new releases, Studio Ghibli's animated fare and Nicolas Cage-starring flicks. But, even if you've spent all your time of late glued to your small screen, we're betting you just can't wait to sit in a darkened room and soak up the splendour of the bigger version. Thankfully, plenty of new films are hitting cinemas so that you can do just that — and we've rounded up, watched and reviewed everything on offer this week. THE UNBEARABLE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT "Nic fuckiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing Cage." That's how the man himself utters his name in The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent, and he knows what he's about. Now four decades into his acting career to the year — after making his film debut in Fast Times at Ridgemont High under his actual name Nicolas Coppola, playing a bit-part character who didn't even get a moniker — Cage is keenly aware of exactly what he's done on-screen over that time, and in what, and why and how. He also knows how the world has responded, with that recognition baked into every second of his his latest movie. He plays himself, dubbed Nick Cage. He cycles through action-hero Cage, comically OTT Cage, floppy-haired 80s- and 90s-era Cage, besuited Cage, neurotic Cage and more in the process. And, as he winks, nods, and bobs and weaves through a lifetime of all things Cage, he's a Cage-tastic delight to watch. The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent is Cage uncaged, busting out the jazz that is his acting and adoring it, and it's a self-aware, super-meta love letter to its star and all who stan him. It's also a feature that couldn't exist without the thespian who has everything from Guarding Tess and Captain Corelli's Mandolin to The Croods and Pig on his resume; replacing him simply wouldn't work. Again, it's a Cage gem in letting Cage devotees revel in Cage doing every kind of Cage. That said, this Cage comedy is also so overtly designed to inspire Cage mania that it's easy to feel the buttons being pushed. It's the Cage movie that the internet has willed into existence, or film Twitter at least. Case in point: it has Cage realise that Paddington 2 is one of the best movies ever made. It is, but given how well-accepted that is, and how much online attention has stressed that fact — including its once-perfect Rotten Tomatoes score — weaving it into this Cagefest is one of the film's many exercises in stating the obvious. There is narrative around all that "Nic fuckiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing Cage" and his marmalade bear-loving epiphany. Here, the man who could eat a peach for days in Face/Off would do anything for as long as he needed to if he could lock in a weighty new part. The fictionalised Cage isn't happy with his roles of late, as he complains to his agent (Neil Patrick Harris, The Matrix Resurrections), but directors aren't buying what he's enthusiastically selling. He has debts and other art-parodies-life problems, though, plus an ex-wife (Sharon Horgan, This Way Up) and a teen daughter (Lily Sheen, IRL daughter of Kate Beckinsale and Michael Sheen). So, he reluctantly takes a $1-million gig he wishes he didn't have to: flying to southern Spain to hang out with billionaire Javi Gutierrez (Pedro Pascal, The Bubble), who is such a Cage diehard that he even has his own mini museum filled with Cage memorabilia, and has also written a screenplay he wants Cage to star in. Yes, writer/director Tom Gormican (Are We Officially Dating?) and co-scribe Kevin Etten (Kevin Can F**K Himself) task the always-likeable Pascal with playing The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent's on-screen audience surrogate. If you're watching a movie with Cage as Cage — one that begins with a clip from Con Air at that — then you'd likely jump at the chance to spend time with the inimitable figure. Who wouldn't? But that's just one element of the story, because two CIA agents (The Afterparty's Tiffany Haddish and Ike Barinholtz) inform Cage that his new pal is an arms dealer who's keeping a politician's daughter hostage to sway an election. And, they want him to indulge his host — undercover as himself, naturally — until they find the girl. The next key aspect of the tale: during this ruse, Cage and Javi genuinely become CBFFs (Cage best friends forever), including while working on a screenplay about new buddies who bond in chaotic circumstances. Read our full review. THE NORTHMAN Satanic goats don't talk in The Northman. Heartthrobs don't masturbate while fondling mermaid figurines, either. Still, within ten minutes, pre-teen Viking prince Amleth (Oscar Novak, The Batman), his glory-seeking warrior father King Aurvandil War-Raven (Ethan Hawke, Moon Knight) and jester-meets-shaman Heimir (Willem Dafoe, Nightmare Alley) descend into a fire-lit cave to take hallucinogens, growl, grunt, bark like wolves and fart like it's a god-given superpower. If viewers didn't know who's behind this bold, brutal, brilliant, and blood- and guts-strewn Scandinavian opus before then, there's no doubt from this trippy scene onwards: after The Witch and The Lighthouse, writer/director Robert Eggers' touch, approach and style have become that distinctive just three remarkable features into his helming career. As he first demonstrated with his potent pilgrim horror movie, then doubled down on with his mesmerising oceanside nightmare, Eggers crafts chaotic celluloid dreams about faith- and sanity-stretching dances with madness and mania. He makes features so striking that they're haunting, rippling with the devotedly realistic and the hypnotically occult in tandem. Eggers' work isn't merely meticulously tense and atmospheric; it proves blisteringly visceral to the point of feeling inescapably tangible. Indeed, his steadfast commitment to authenticity spirits the whole concept of immersive filmmaking high into movie Valhalla. See: the vivid period-appropriate detail in The Northman's Nordic villages, which'd only be more evocative if they'd time-travelled in from the ninth and tenth centuries. Sense: the entrancing swirl that springs from all of the above, complete with Eggers' unfailing idiosyncrasies. Experience: the sublime tussle with myth, fantasy and folklore that results, as it has in each of his features, to both plunge into and interrogate his history-set reveries. In this untamed and laid-bare portrait of the past, something is rotten in the state of Iceland — as it was in Denmark via William Shakespeare, and in the Pride Lands of Africa in both versions of The Lion King. Writing The Northman's screenplay with poet, novelist and Björk collaborator Sjón (Lamb), Eggers takes his cues not from Hamlet, however, but from the Old Norse legend of Amleth that inspired the iconic tragedy. The narrative still involves a son anointed to be the future king, a tragedy that shatters his regal family, and a dastardly uncle who gets murderous to seize the throne and his brother's wife, of course. And, it keeps following its protagonist as he wages a determined odyssey of feral revenge against the man who reshaped his fate so ruthlessly. "I will avenge you, father. I will save you, mother. I will kill you, Fjölnir." That's Amleth's vow as a boy on a north Atlantic island in 895 when he witnesses the latter's (Claes Bang, Locked Down) treachery. He flees after hearing his uncle bay for his head, too, and seeing him carry off Queen Gudrún (Nicole Kidman, Being the Ricardos) as a spoil of his victory. Two decades later, Amleth (Alexander Skarsgård, Succession) is a hulking, wolfskin-clad Viking berserker, living life flinging whatever weaponry he can find while viciously pillaging through the lands of the Rus. But amid the bloodlust, gore and piling-up body count, the intense marauder is thrust back onto his vengeance-seeking path. A Slavic seeress (Björk, in her first film role since 2005) whispers stark truths about his current savagery and lapsed mission against Fjölnir, reigniting his yearning for that promised slaughter — and the single-minded behemoth learns that his uncle is now sheep-farming in Iceland, having lost the kingdom in another coup. Read our full review. ITHAKA To look at John Shipton is to see the obvious, even if you've never laid eyes upon him before. The family resemblance is immediately clear, and the traits that've likely been passed down from father to son — determination and persistence, blatantly — become apparent within minutes. Shipton needs to be resolute for the battle that documentary Ithaka captures. It's a fight that's been waged for a decade now, publicly, and not just in embassies and courtrooms but across news headlines worldwide. He's visibly Julian Assange's dad, and he's been helping spearhead the campaign for the WikiLeaks founder's release. Assange fell afoul of US authorities in 2010, when his non-profit whistleblower organisation published documents about the American military's war crimes leaked by army intelligence analyst Chelsea Manning. As Ithaka makes plain, The Guardian, The New York Times and Der Spiegel revealed the same information at the same time; however, only Assange now sits in London's Belmarsh prison. Plenty about the past 12 years since Manning's leaks were exposed to the world is filled with numbers. Plenty about the ten years this June since Assange first took refuge in the Embassy of Ecuador in London is as well. The Australian editor and publisher spent almost seven years in that diplomatic space, seeking political asylum from sexual misconduct allegations in Sweden that he contended would be used to extradite him to America. If the US succeeds in its efforts, and in its espionage charges against him, he faces up to 175 years in incarceration. The list of figures goes on, but filmmaker Ben Lawrence (Hearts and Bones) makes two pivotal choices. Firstly, he surveys Assange's current struggle not through the Aussie himself, but through both Shipton and Stella Moris, his South African-born lawyer and now wife. Secondly, although those aforementioned numbers are inescapable, the riveting and affecting Ithaka brings humanity to this well-publicised plight. Moris herself sums up the movie's position best at the unveiling of a statue of Assange in Geneva. "I'm here to remind you that Julian isn't a name, he isn't a symbol; he's a man and he's suffering," she says. It's a reminder that Ithaka's audience might need, given how ubiquitous Assange's tale has become, including on-screen — in fellow docos We Steal Secrets: The Story of WikiLeaks and Risk, and in dramas Underground: The Julian Assange Story and The Fifth Estate — and how polarising he has proven. Risk attempted to grapple with his contradictions, but Ithaka almost deems them irrelevant. Lawrence doesn't dismiss, excuse or pander; rather, he knows that Shipton and Moris' point remains regardless: that how Assange has been treated for receiving and publishing information is a human rights abuse, as well as an attack on the freedom of the press. That notion echoes again and again in Ithaka alongside its rousing soundtrack by Brian Eno, and with passion; to look at both Shipton and Moris is to see the fervour blazing tirelessly in their eyes, too. Making his second documentary after 2018's Ghosthunter, Lawrence fills the bulk of his naturalistically shot frames with the pair working against Assange's possible extradition, and for justice, with that avid gleam given ample opportunities to keep burning. Again, among the litany of opinions that he's evoked over the years, the idea that the Australian deserves life in prison for distributing Manning's intel to the world — or that anyone does — shouldn't have a place. Ithaka's allegiances are never in doubt, even without knowing that Assange's brother Gabriel Shipton is one of its producers, but giving time to the WikiLeaks creator's critics wouldn't and couldn't have changed its core position. Read our full review. If you're wondering what else is currently screening in Australian cinemas — or has been lately — check out our rundown of new films released in Australia on January 1, January 6, January 13, January 20 and January 27; February 3, February 10, February 17 and February 24; and March 3, March 10, March 17, March 24 and March 31; and April 7 and April 14. You can also read our full reviews of a heap of recent movies, such as Ghostbusters: Afterlife, House of Gucci, The King's Man, Red Rocket, Scream, The 355, Gold, King Richard, Limbo, Spencer, Nightmare Alley, Belle, Parallel Mothers, The Eyes of Tammy Faye, Belfast, Here Out West, Jackass Forever, Benedetta, Drive My Car, Death on the Nile, C'mon C'mon, Flee, Uncharted, Quo Vadis, Aida?, Cyrano, Hive, Studio 666, The Batman, Blind Ambition, Bergman Island, Wash My Soul in the River's Flow, The Souvenir: Part II, Dog, Anonymous Club, X, River, Nowhere Special, RRR, Morbius, The Duke and Sonic the Hedgehog 2, Fantastic Beasts and the Secrets of Dumbledore, Ambulance, Memoria, The Lost City, Everything Everywhere All At Once, Happening and The Good Boss.
By day, they climb cliffs and learn survival skills. By night, they sit around a campfire singing songs and discussing philosophy. They're the Cash clan — and if their everyday activities haven't convinced you that the six siblings aren't part of an ordinary family, the determination and dedication of their father, Ben (Viggo Mortensen), should do the job. There's a reason that the heartfelt film that tells his tale is called Captain Fantastic, after all. Whether he's running around the forest in America's Pacific Northwest, or making a scene by wearing a bright red suit to a funeral, the eccentric, affectionate Ben always seems larger than life, and much like a superhero to his kids. But, when tragedy strikes, he's forced to take them on the road out into the real world. With his oldest son Bo (George MacKay) also contemplating leaving his untraditional upbringing behind for a new college adventure, and his parents-in-law (Frank Langella and Ann Dowd) unhappy about his off-the-grid parenting methods, conflict soon begins to brew. As the offbeat brood treks across the country in a coming-of-age journey for both adolescent and adult characters, Captain Fantastic traverses territory that feels familiar and fresh all at once. Yes, the path it takes is sometimes a little predictable, but writer-director Matt Ross generates enough genuine emotion to ensure that it also feels authentic .This is a warm, rich and vibrant production, both visually and in tone. Continuing his spate of fantastic performances in under-seen fare like The Two Faces of January and Far From Men, Mortensen is more than partly responsible for the movie's charms. In fact, he's simply magnetic in a progressive, protective parent role that trades heavily on his gruff yet tender charisma. With much of Captain Fantastic dependent upon unpacking the many layers and contradictions of a man who gives his 6-year-old son a copy of The Joy of Sex but hasn't imparted his 16-year-old with enough practical wisdom to know how to talk to girls, the subtle complexity he brings to his protagonist couldn't be more pivotal. Around him, his young and experienced co-stars also shine, particularly MacKay and the veteran Langella. It helps that Ross knows a thing or two about unusual families, with the actor-turned-filmmaker having starred in the polygamous TV drama Big Love for five seasons. While Captain Fantastic directs most of its fondness towards its unlikely hero and his eclectic clan, it also explores the importance of not only difference but balance. That's not an easy feat given how endearing the main characters and their unorthodox lifestyle are, and proves a testament to how multifaceted this smart, sweet picture really is.
It started back in 1956 as a singing contest between a mere seven nations. Now, more than six decades later, Eurovision is a glitter and spandex-fuelled global musical phenomenon. Forty-one countries not only in Europe but from elsewhere compete — hello Australia — and viewers tune in en masse each May to watch, sing along and add new pop tunes to their playlists. But with COVID-19 continuing to spread, the show won't go on in 2020 in Rotterdam as planned. With this year's event cancelled, that leaves a huge Europop-shaped hole in plenty of music fans' lives. Thankfully, while the live contest isn't happening, SBS is screening an alternative. Between Sunday, May 10–Sunday, May 17, the Aussie broadcaster is hosting a week-long Eurovision festival filled with new specials and repeat airings of the Eurovision grand finals from 2015–2019. It all kicks off with Road to Eurovision 2020 on Sunday, May 10, which is hosted by this year's hosts and was actually filmed in the Netherlands in December — and charts the journey towards this year's now-axed event. Then, between Monday, May 11–Friday, May 15, viewers can check out the contests that featured Australia's entrants so far — Guy Sebastian, Dani Im, Isaiah, Jessica Mauboy and Kate Miller-Heidke — with each grand final screening in full. Next, on Saturday, May 16, SBS is putting together a new special called Eurovision 2020: Big Night In. As well as watching along, Aussie Eurovision aficionados can take part. Viewers are asked to head to the SBS website before Sunday, May 3, check out all the songs and artists that would've competed if this year's contest went ahead, and then vote for your three favourites, with the results revealed on the night. SBS' usual local hosts Myf Warhurst and Joel Creasey will be overseeing the show, and this year's Australian entrant, Montaigne, will perform live as well. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gr-wWxu4974&feature=emb_logo Finally, on Sunday, May 17, it's time for Eurovision: Europe Shine A Light. All 41 of this year's songs will get their time to shine in a non-competitive format, with the special made in The Netherlands and hosted by Dutch Eurovision presenters Chantal Janzen, Edsilia Rombley and Jan Smit. SBS' week-long Eurovision festival will air from Sunday, May 10–Sunday, May 17 on SBS and SBS Viceland. For further details — or to vote for your favourite 2020 Eurovision acts for Eurovision 2020: Big Night In before Sunday, May 3 — head to the SBS website.
Legendary Talking Heads frontman David Byrne is returning to Aussie shores this November. While down under, Byrne will hit up Melbourne, Sydney, the Gold Coast and Adelaide to promote his newly released — and already acclaimed — album American Utopia. Byrne's first solo album in 14 years, American Utopia features songs co-written by Brian Eno and contributions from Sampha and electro producer Daniel Lopatin. As well as songs off the new album, Byrne will perform classics from his solo career and hits from his Talking Heads days — expect 'Psycho Killer', 'This Must Be the Place' and, of course, 'Burning Down the House' to make an appearance. The show is one of Byrne's most ambitious yet, too, with a 12-piece band joining him on stage and choreography by Annie-B Parson, who choreographed the St Vincent and David Byrne collaboration back in 2013. It's expected to be an eclectic and moving performance, with early shows reviewed as "at once novel and oddly comforting" and "a thought provoking example of the power of live music". Byrne performed the show at Coachella earlier this year, where it was a standout. Tickets to the American Utopia tour will go on sale at midday on Monday, June 18.
Four Pillars' bloody gin season is back for another year, which is one piece of bloody excellent news. There's more where that came from. In 2023, the Healesville-based distillery has two limited-edition wine-infused concoctions on offer: the cult-favourite Bloody Shiraz Gin and new sibling Bloody Pinot Noir Gin. Spirits fiends familiar with the shiraz version will know that it is ridiculously popular for a reason. Also, it's gin infused with shiraz grapes. That blend gives the drop its cerise hue, and provides sweet undertones — but means that it avoids a higher sugar content. It is boozier, though, with an alcoholic content of 37.8 percent (compared to an average 25 percent in regular sloe gin). The 2023 Bloody Shiraz Gin follows that process again, while the Bloody Pinot Noir Gin sees Four Pillars try another grape variety. If the distillery is bottling it and selling it, clearly it turned out well, too. This newcomer also sources its fruit from Yarra Valley again. The end result is softer and lighter but with a heavier gin taste, and with aromas of rose petals, strawberries and cherries. Also bloody brilliant: to celebrate not one but two bloody gins, and bloody season overall, Four Pillars is hosting a midwinter gin fest. Running all throughout June and July in Sydney — even kicking off a couple of days early on Tuesday, May 30 — the festival is actually a heap of events heroing the two tipples (and getting everyone saying "bloody" over and over). So, the Four Pillars Lab will celebrate World Gin Day across Saturday, June 10–Sunday, June 11 with a weekend-long party filled with drinks, snacks, DJs, workshops and free tastings. The venue is also doing a Golden Century BBQ takeover, teaming pork, duck and dumplings with Bloody Shiraz Gin drinks on Saturday, June 17–Sunday, June 18. And, the brand is putting on a big feast with North Bondi Fish on Wednesday, July 19; popping up at North Sydney's Rafi and the Harbour View Hotel on various dates; and bringing back the Gin & Film Fest at Golden Age Cinema every Wednesday in July, this time with a focus on slasher sirens. Top image: Wes Nel.
Tamales — parcels of light corn dough stuffed with meat and vegetables, wrapped and steamed inside corn husks or banana leaves — are a Mexican street food staple. They're also the main dish on the menu at The Midnight Special's latest pop-up Lulu's. Serving up regional US and Mexican fare made with ingredients sourced from local and independent producers, Lulu's is run by chef and owner Monica Luppi. She calls her tamales 'California-style', explaining that they draw upon her childhood in San Francisco, as well as time spent road-tripping along the US West Coast. The results of those American travels feed into her culinary venture, which heads to Newtown from March 15 to April 15. On the menu during Lulu's second stay at The Midnight Special, it also took up residence there last October, are three different tamales ($9 each) — including ones stuffed with 12-hour slow-cooked chipotle pork shoulder and the vegan version made with slow-roasted sweet potato — fried jalapeño hush puppies, mac 'n' cheese bites, chicken katsu burgers and banoffee pie for dessert. A muffaletta, a sandwich created by Italian immigrants in Louisiana, will make an appearance on the menu, too — it's a hefty roll filled with Italian cured meats, cheeses, olives and pickles. Whether it comes close to competing with the OG at New Orleans' Central Grocery is still up for debate, but it's one of the only chances you'll have to try the famed sanga in Sydney. Find Lulu's at The Midnight Special from 5pm, Wed–Sun, March 15 to April 15. Image: Nash Ferguson
UPDATE, July 20, 2020: The Lion King is available to stream via Disney+, Google Play, YouTube and iTunes. Picture this: as gorgeously detailed nature documentary footage plays, an exceptional cast of big-name actors lend their voices to prowling lions. In addition to vocalising the animals' thoughts and feelings, the human-uttered dialogue gives the majestic big cats an epic story, charting the ups and downs of a young cub born to the king and queen of the pride. The tale that follows combines parts of Hamlet, Star Wars and Kimba the White Lion, complete with love, loss, courage, threats, rebellion and father-son issues. It features witty one-liners and catchy songs, plus antics involving hyenas, meerkats, warthogs, hornbills and mandrills. But, even as the famous tones, engaging emotional beats, amusing gags, rousing music and lively array of critters all work their magic, something seems a little out of place — namely, the rendering of all of the above with such lifelike visuals. That's The Lion King circa 2019 in a nutshell. Using technology that has only improved since he turned The Jungle Book into a naturalistic spectacle three years ago, filmmaker Jon Favreau remakes another of Disney's cartoon hits with this different kind of animated wizardry. Here, unlike in his adaptation of Rudyard Kipling's classic text, there's no visible trace of humanity — and that just might make all the difference. Such an absence is true to The Lion King's source material, obviously, but without a character such as Mowgli scampering around, this special effects onslaught lacks an anchor. The film couldn't look more realistic, and yet it never feels real. While audiences have long become accustomed to getting swept away by Hollywood's trickery — especially since digital capabilities began bringing extraordinary sights to the screen — The Lion King can't quite manage the feat. Narrative-wise, anyone familiar with the 1994 movie knows what's in store. This version might credit a different writer, with Jeff Nathanson (Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales) adapting the original screenplay by Irene Mecchi, Jonathan Roberts and Linda Woolverton, but it has really just been given a new coat of CGI paint. As initially presented to the animal kingdom in an awe-inspiring ceremony, young Simba (JD McCrary) is fated to follow in his father Mufasa's (James Earl Jones) regal paw prints, much to the dismay of the latter's scowling, scheming brother Scar (Chiwetel Ejiofor). And so, a plot is hatched. Instead of preparing for his destiny with help from his mother (Alfre Woodard) and best friend Nala (Shahadi Wright Joseph as a cub, Beyonce once she's grown), Simba is tricked into becoming an outcast. He runs free with pint-sized pals Timon (Billy Eichner) and Pumbaa (Seth Rogen), and adopts their carefree attitude. As an adult lion (now voiced by Donald Glover), he's eventually forced to reassess his choices, as well as his role and place in the Pridelands. The cynical might say that this return to The Lion King lacks humanity behind-the-scenes, too, given all that the surefire box office hit represents. Disney keeps turning its animated back-catalogue into live-action fare — or photorealistic ones in this case — with a clear plan in mind: tap into nostalgia, then profit. Still, even knowing where it stands in the huge entertainment behemoth's filmmaking assembly line, the movie doesn't lack feeling. It's clearly the result of great affection and attention to detail, ensuring that its animals really do look like they're simply strutting through the savannah. Astutely chosen cast members such as the returning Jones, the melodic Glover, and the hilarious Eichner and Rogen all invest their four-legged alter-egos with resounding emotion. Coming back to the material that originally won him an Oscar, composer Hans Zimmer gives the story another stirring score, while Elton John and Tim Rice's reused tunes all hit the same stirring marks as they once again muse about love and life. Indeed, you can almost see the human fingerprints on the film, including in its gently moving tufts of lion fur, sweeping plains and flowering greenery — or the genuine love and care that went into them, to be more accurate. That said, viewers also bear witness as one of the most beloved movies of the past quarter-century is transformed into a very expensive and true-to-life cat video. That's no knock on feline clips or nature docos. Cooing over a cute mouser is one of life's simplest pleasures, and marvelling at the splendour of the natural world is one of its great privileges. But, watching The Lion King, it's impossible to get completely lost in any of these joys. Or, for that matter, to surrender to the slavishly faithful story or undeniably impressive visuals, which work well separately and yet don't convincingly fit together. Perhaps it isn't by accident that Timon and Pumbaa steal the show as they frolic through the film's frames, with an ad-libbing Eichner and Rogen proving the picture's standouts (sorry, Beyonce fans). It isn't new, but the wisecracking comic duo do espouse a fitting motto, and one that Disney probably hopes viewers truly take to heart this time around. It's possible to say "hakuna matata" to The Lion King redux, and feel the love for its highlights without falling tail over paws for the end product. Alas, it's harder to shake the sensation that it doesn't convincingly take its place in the cinematic circle of life. That opening, though, as recreated nearly frame-by-frame in all of its electrifying glory — it's a complete and utter wonder, albeit one that the rest of the movie can't manage to match. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7TavVZMewpY
If you've been saving your hard-earned cash for a big night out, here's your excuse to spend it. Some of Sydney's fanciest restaurants — including Quay, Bennelong, Otto Ristorante and Firedoor — are now offering five-course tasting menus at (relatively) reasonable prices. Throughout July and August, there'll be limited-edition menus on offer at each Fink Group venue, ranging from $100–195 per person. Sure, these prices are nothing to sneeze at, but you won't find these deals at any other time of the year. And they all include a cocktail on arrival, too. At Quay, Peter Gilmore has created a five-course version of the restaurant's decadent ten-course menu. It'll feature signature dishes and a few new ones, including the playful new Moo dessert. With the restaurant's standard menu going for $285 a head, this one, at $195, is a steal. Meanwhile, Bennelong is recreating high-end versions of Aussie favourites — and serving them up inside the Sydney Opera House. Those include yabby buckwheat pancakes with lemon jam and cultured cream, along with the restaurant's famed lamington dessert. All for $170 a head. Otto is, of course, doings things the Italian way with a full on pasta menu. Yes, its five carb-loaded courses (for $120) include mushroom-stuffed agnolotti and lobster bisque cappellacci, filled with spanner crab and mascarpone. At Firedoor, it's swapping the usual fire-roasted meats for fire-roasted veggies, serving a five-course menu (for $100) that champions all things plant-based. The Big Night Out menus will be available for lunch and dinner throughout July and August. Be sure to make a reservation, though (and select the Big Night Out option when booking) because these popular spots are sure to book out — especially at these prices. Images: Brett Stevens and Nikki To
The promised 2019 completion for Sydney's new southeast light rail system is now a distant memory, with the consortium behind the project today advising the New South Wales Government that it'll be delayed another two months. May 2020 is now the projected completion date for the project, which will run from Circular Quay to Randwick and Kingsford. In case you haven't been keeping track, that's a 14-month delay. So far. As reported by the SMH, this latest delay is due to an awry overhead wire. But, it's not the first road bump the 12-kilometre light rail has hit during its embattled construction. Back in March 2016 (yes, more than two years ago) construction was (understandably) halted after thousands of Indigenous artefacts were discovered in the area. Then, earlier this year, the NSW Government found itself embroiled in a legal battle with the Spanish subcontractor heading up the build, slowing down progress considerably. At the time, NSW Premier Gladys Berejiklian declined to share details about the delays, though said the state would "not be held to ransom" by builder Acciona, which is taking Transport for NSW to court for the tidy sum of $1.2 billion. Speaking of billions, Acciona has estimated the final cost of construction to be $1.8 billion — that's double the original $870 million estimate. An inquiry into the impact of the construction of the light rail on local residents and businesses was then launched by the state in May. It received 193 submissions from locals and hearings are currently taking place in Sydney's Parliament House. Some of the businesses that say they've been impacted by the construction — or have been forced to close — include The Book Kitchen, Bishop Sessa and Cafe Jacks. Testing on the CBD and South East Light Rail Project began in February.
Ageing is a privilege. It's certainly better than the alternative. But what if life's physical ravages were condensed and accelerated? What if you were a six-year-old one moment, a teenager a few hours later and sporting middle-aged wrinkles the next morning? That's the premise of Old, which boasts a sci-fi setup that could've come straight from The Twilight Zone, a chaotic midsection reminiscent of Mother!'s immersive horrors, and a setting and character dynamics that nod to Lost. It slides in alongside recently unearthed George A Romero thriller The Amusement Park as well and, with M Night Shyamalan behind the lens, indulges the writer/director's love of high-concept plots with big twists. No one sees dead people and plants aren't the culprits — thankfully, in the latter case — however, surprise revelations remain part of this game. That said, unlike earlier in his career, when the filmmaker might've made the rapid passage of time the final big shock, Shyamalan isn't just about jolts and amazement here. Old has another sizeable reveal, naturally. Shyamalan is still the director behind The Sixth Sense, Unbreakable, Signs, The Village, The Visit, Split, Glass and more, and he likes his bag of tricks. This time, though, he wants to play with and probe his scenario rather than primarily tease his audience and get them puzzling. He wants viewers to experience the minutiae rather than wait for the ultimate unmasking (yes, with his fondness for twists, he'd probably make a great version of Scooby Doo). The notion that ageing brings pain and loss — physical, mental and emotional alike — isn't new, of course. Nor is the reality that death awaits us all, or that we rarely make the most of our seconds, minutes and hours (and days, weeks, months and years). But Shyamalan embraces these immutable facts to explore how humanity responds to getting older and the knowledge that we'll die, and how our worldview is shaped as a result — or, when we're all ignoring our mortality as we typically soldier on day after day, how ordinarily it isn't. Holidaying from Philadelphia — Shyamalan's hometown and usual on-screen setting — Guy (Gael García Bernal, Ema) and Prisca (Vicky Krieps, Phantom Thread) have a different ending on their minds as they settle into a luxe resort on a remote tropical island. Their marriage is crumbling, but they're giving their six-year-old son Trent (Nolan River, Adverse) and 11-year-old daughter Maddox (Alexa Swinton, Billions) one last happy vacation before their domestic bliss subsides. The kids have conflicting ideas about how to spend their getaway, but the hotel's manager (Gustaf Hammarsten, Kursk) has a suggestion. He tells the family about a secret beach, and stresses that he doesn't just tip off any old customers about its existence. The fact that they're escorted by mini-bus (driven by Shyamalan, in one of his regular cameos) alongside a few other resort guests undercuts that clandestine claim, but everyone soon has far worse to deal with. With arrogant surgeon Charles (Rufus Sewell, The Father), his younger wife Chrystal (Abbey Lee, Lovecraft Country), their daughter Kara (debutant Kylie Begley) and his elderly mother Agnes (Kathleen Chalfant, The Affair) — and with famous rapper Mid-Sized Sedan (Aaron Pierre, The Underground Railroad), and couple Patricia (Nikki Amuka-Bird, The Personal History of David Copperfield) and Jarin (Ken Leung, a Lost alum) as well — Guy, Prisca, Trent and Maddox quickly discover that time ticks by at a much speedier pace on this supposedly idyllic patch of sand. Also, no matter how they try, they can't manage to leave its oceanside expanse. The bulk of Old charts their reactions, especially as seconds equate to hours and the effects show almost immediately. Not only do the kids grow up fast (which is where Jojo Rabbit's Thomasin McKenzie, Jumanji: The Next Level's Alex Wolff and Babyteeth's Eliza Scanlen come in), but all of the beachgoers' health ailments are expedited, too. Diving in wholeheartedly, Shyamalan mixes stints of body horror with the film's existential woes, all while deploying Mike Gioulakis' (Us) constantly careening cinematography to convey the confusion sweeping through his exasperated characters. When it works — when it's plunging into the mania, discomfort and disorientation caused by time's sped-up slip — Old unfurls with a sense of fluidity, frenzy and thoughtfulness. It contemplates loss on multiple levels, including of health, childhood and life, and it finds vivid images to express the chaos and dismay that springs. Indeed, its depictions of advancing cancer, osteoporosis, loss of sight and loss of hearing are bold and effective. Shyamalan also uses his scenic backdrop cannily, giving his stranded figures and everyone watching a reminder that the planet's beauty will linger unaffected even as a lifetime of dramas play out (climate change isn't part of this scenario, obviously). And, his musings and the imagery they inspire all strike an emotional chord. His smart casting helps at every step as well, led by not just Bernal and Krieps, but McKenzie, Wolff and Scanlen. It's confronting to watch people realise their future is now gone, their squabbles unimportant and their regrets many, just as it's poignant to see young adults who were kids mere minutes ago grapple with coming of age on a rapid timeframe. Still, Shyamalan's beachy nightmare also has its struggles. Adapting his narrative from Pierre Oscar Levy and Frederik Peeters' graphic novel Sandcastle, he pens dialogue that's descriptive, exposition-heavy and often clunky. His treatment of mental illness as a villainous force is immensely troublesome. As is evident from the get-go, when cocktails are foisted too enthusiastically upon new resort arrivals and a young boy, Idlib (Kailen Jude, Grey's Anatomy), befriends Trent but seems wearied by everything around him, Shyamalan also can't completely resist the urge to force-feed blatantly apparent details. The film's needlessly conspicuous touches don't wash away its thrills, but they do make this a movie that's never as potent as it could be. When it's bonkers, insidious and moving all at once, Old grabs you as firmly as time grabs us all. When it just can't help being too neat, explanation-wise, it treads water rather than seizes the moment.
The Lady and the Unicorn's arrival in Australia is kind of a big deal — this is only the third time the tapestry series has left France in more than 500 years. Held at the Art Gallery of New South Wales, the exhibition is a genuine once-in-a-lifetime chance to see these masterpieces of medieval craftsmanship. The six woven tapestries are considered to be some of the greatest surviving artworks from the European Middle Ages, and it's easy to see why. The works span more than 20 metres in length and hold a reputation as the "Mona Lisa of the Middle Ages". To celebrate The Lady and the Unicorn's residency Down Under, AGNSW's much-loved restaurant Chiswick at the Gallery is hosting an affordable dining series. A ticket to the event includes your choice of main, a glass of wine or Four Pines beer and entry to the famed exhibition — all for $59. Dishes are prepared by head chef Tim Brindley and stay true to the restaurant's 'garden-to-plate' philosophy — with ingredients even thrown in from the garden outside. You can choose from Cone Bay barramundi served with pipis, battered flathead fillets aside chunky hand-cut chips and pork cutlets with Brussels sprouts, among others. It's food meets art and, in our opinion, the tastiest way to experience one of 2018's landmark exhibitions. The dining series is available at Chiswick at the Gallery throughout the duration of The Lady and the Unicorn exhibition. It's available for lunch daily and for dinner on Wednesday nights until Sunday 24 June. To make a reservation, head to the restaurant's website.
Swapping Saturday Night Live for an entertainment-parodying sitcom worked swimmingly for Tina Fey. Since 2019, it's also been going hilariously for Chris Kelly and Sarah Schneider. Not just former SNL writers but the veteran sketch comedy's ex-head writers, Kelly and Schneider have been giving the world their own 30 Rock with the sharp, smart and sidesplitting The Other Two. Their angle: focusing on the adult siblings of a Justin Bieber-style teen popstar who've always had their own showbiz aspirations — he's an actor, she was a ballerina — who then find themselves the overlooked children of a momager-turned-daytime television host as well. Cary (Drew Tarver, History of the World: Part II) and Brooke (Heléne York, Katy Keene) Dubek are happy for Chase (Case Walker, Monster High: The Movie). And when their mother Pat (Molly Shannon, I Love That for You) gets her own time in the spotlight, becoming Oprah-level famous, they're equally thrilled for her. But ChaseDreams, their little brother's stage name, has always been a constant reminder that their own ambitions keep being outshone — and in a first season that proved one of the best new shows of 2019, a second season in 2021 that was just as much of a delight and now a stellar third go-around that streams from Thursday, May 4 via Binge, they've never been above getting petty and messy about it. Back in that debut run, Kelly and Schneider made a simple but savvy choice: naming each instalment around whatever Chase was doing, whether he was getting a girlfriend or a nosebleed, turning 14 or dropping his first album. The series may be called The Other Two, but even the episode titles put Cary and Brooke to the side, fitting in an extra running joke about their brother coming first. Season two kept the trend going; however, it split most of its monikers between Chase and Pat as the latter's success eclipsed her son's. So, Pat connected with her fans, became number one in the daytime market and, with Chase, all-round killed it. Then a big realisation dropped, with Brooke's work as an entertainment manager — first to Chase, then to Pat — and Cary's thespian quest becoming just as much of an everyday reality. What's season three to do now that the titular other two aren't just hanging around with stars in their eyes and resentment in their hearts? The better question, as Kelly and Schneider know, is what will Cary and Brooke do? They've spent the past few years constantly comparing themselves to Chase, then to Pat, but now they're successful on their own — and still chaotic, and completely unable to change their engrained thinking. Forget the whole "the grass is always greener" adage. No matter if they're faking it or making it, nothing is ever perfectly verdant for this pair or anyone in their orbit. Still, as Brooke wonders whether her dream gig is trivial after living through a pandemic, she starts contemplating if she should be doing more meaningful work like her fashion designer-turned-nurse boyfriend Lance (Josh Segarra, The Big Door Prize). And with Cary's big breaks never quite panning out as planned, he gets envious of his fellow-actor BFF Curtis (Brandon Scott Jones, Ghosts). Striving, seeming like you're thriving but still diving: that's The Other Two's three-season arc. The series has always been as acerbic about getting to the top as yearning for it — Chase has never been all that fussed with his fame, including now that he's 18 — and it doesn't waver in its latest splash. Outlandish situations, grounded insights and emotions: that's The Other Two's realm, too. Pat is at the owning-her-own-network stage of Oprah-dom, but pines for the easy pleasures of a family dinner at Applebees that can only happen through movie magic. Brooke is so obsessed with doing something worthy that she can't see what her nearest and dearest are truly worth. And Cary is both unhappy in a relationship with a more-famous actor (Fin Argus, Queer as Folk) who never slips out character and desperate to do anything himself to stay relevant. Even more so in season three, The Other Two isn't afraid of getting existential, or dark. It's still as cutting about everything from social-media trends and celebrity fixations to ridiculous filler reality shows, however — and as gleefully absurd and surreal. One episode revolves around the quest to drive a photo of Chase's armpit across America because it's his first snap as an adult and it's that coveted. Another sees Brooke literally disappear at a glitzy party when she decides she's ditching the industry. And when Cary craves attention for his straight-to-streaming flick Night Nurse, which was back in action when season two ended and premiering when this season begins, he spends half a day on public transport to get to an interview with TheBrooklynBuritto.com. This time around, The Other Two also finds room for lengthy satires of Pleasantville, Romeo + Juliet, Love, Victor and Angels in America, all via gags that are as inspired as they are amusing. Wes Anderson's penchant for symmetry gets a delicious jibe, and Teen Wolf's Dylan O'Brien, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina's Kiernan Shipka, The White Lotus' Lukas Gage and Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings' Simu Liu make game guest stars. The one-liners keep dropping with 30 Rock-esque speed, while the writing is as piercing and astute as Barry at its best. Reliably, Ken Marino and Wanda Sykes remain in vintage form as Chase's manager Streeter and record-label executive Shuli; thanks to Party Down and Curb Your Enthusiasm, both are veterans at skewering show business. Indeed, with York, Tarver, Shannon, Segarra and Jones as well, The Other Two has one of the best casts on TV. The funniest comedy on television deserves to. The show's stacked roster of talent is just as outstanding when season three gets dramatic, including when calling Cary and Brooke out on their egotism, having the ever-charming and -chill Lance get tired of being pushed aside and seeing Pat glean what all this chasing dreams has cost — always with just as much riotous laughs as feeling, of course. Check out the trailer for The Other Two's third season below: The Other Two streams via Binge from Thursday, May 4.
There are two highly misconstrued clauses about exhibition openings. Firstly, that you have to know a lot about art to go to them. Secondly, that you need an invitation. To set things straight, you actually need neither. Most openings are come one, come many so we've enlisted the experts to help you brave a debut into the commercial art world with A Bluffer's Guide to Art Parties. Who goes? "Exhibition openings are celebrations of art and welcome community participation through discussion," says Nicky Ginsberg, Director of NG Art Gallery. "Openings serve to promote awareness and support in the contemporary art scene." Openings are about engaging with art, the artists, gallerists, artsy types and non-artsy types. They are exciting events where guests are in the privileged position of being able to actually meet the artist and talk to them in person about their work and practice. Don't shy away from openings because you 'don't fit the mould' – there's no such thing. Rhianna Walcott, Manager at Artereal Gallery, is another oracle we asked. "Exhibition openings in commercial spaces attract a very diverse mix of people including the artist's friends, family and supporters. You also find a mix of the gallery's regular clients and ongoing supporters, as well as collectors and arts industry professionals," she says. What to expect And what should we expect from the evening's festivities? Well, ordinarily, guests are given ample time to browse the art on offer, chat with artists and soak up the atmosphere. Next there's normally a formal speech from either the gallery's director or a guest speaker who will declare the exhibition open. And yes. Complimentary wine and canapés are the norm. But remember not to over indulge. No one enjoys the token drunk kid in the corner who has suddenly become an expert on all things contemporary art. Needless to say you're there for the art and engagement, not the free booze. Art criticism 101 Now that we've covered the who and what, we should probably discuss the how and when. The question of how to navigate your way around an opening can be a tricky one. For first timers, Ginsberg offers the advice: "Don't be shy, on arrival survey the room; if in doubt, go clockwise. Take in the art by asking yourself: do I like it? Why don't I like it? How was it made?" "Spend the first ten minutes or so looking at all the work and reading through the available information on the exhibition – curatorial text, artist biography etcetera. If you are serious about engaging with the work in the exhibition it is best to read up on the artist via the gallery's website in advance. This gives you some context and prior knowledge, which will allow you a better appreciation of the work when you do see it in the flesh," adds Walcott. The when of exhibition openings varies. Most, however, are hosted during the week, after hours, from around 6-8pm. Talking art Before presenting our fast fact manual, we'd like to leave you with a few crucial words of departure from the experts. "If in a conversation about the art on offer, it is advised to engage your companion's opinion and relationship to the artist before slandering harsh criticism," offers Ginsberg. And from the Walcott camp: "The art world is not as uptight as it is made out to be. Never be afraid to approach people whether it is the artist or the gallerist, or just the person standing next to you. Galleries feel a responsibility to create a welcoming environment where anyone can come to experience and learn about the work." Fast facts Who: Commercial exhibition openings welcome all and it is not necessary to RSVP. What: An exhibition opening is an event hosted by an art gallery/institution to formally open an exhibition. You go to them to be educated, to celebrate and to congratulate. When: Varied, but usually on a weekday evening from 6-8pm. Where: All galleries on the commercial circuit host exhibition openings to expose artists' work to the public. How much: Usually free, with the exception of invite-only openings or ticketed launch events (usually reserved for major public art institutions such as AGNSW or MCA). For the diary: Iain Dawson gallery pop up. 12 Mary Place, Paddington. Opening night June 21, 6-8pm. www.iaindawson.com The Greater Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere group show. Artereal Gallery, 747 Darling Street, Rozelle. Opening night July 4, 6-8pm. www.artereal.com.au Gary Carsley. Breenspace, Level 3/17-19 Alberta Street, Sydney. Opening night August 17, 6-8pm. www.breenspace.com Mingle like a pro: Don't: Use fancy words you don't know the meaning of when discussing a work just to impress someone. Do: Try descriptive words like 'costly', 'historic', or 'monotonous' rather than 'rip off', 'big', or 'boring'. Don't: Overlook the art nearest the bar. Do: Use the art near the bar as a conversation starter in the likely event there is a queue. Don't: Assume you know everything about the artist just because you've read the catalogue essay. Do: Read up on the artist before the show if you want to get the most out of the opening. Don't: Forget that 'modern' and 'contemporary' are different genres in art history. Do: Be inquisitive if other guests start dropping art historical terms, mid-conversation, that you don't understand. Don't: Say 'I could do better than that'. Do: Say you've been inspired to create your own art. Photo credits: Mishy Lane
Molière might be a 17th century playwright, but don't bother brushing up on your French — or your 17th century comedic lingo, for that matter. For Griffin Theatre Company's latest production, Australian playwright Justin Fleming has taken one of Molière's most acclaimed works by the scruff of the neck and hauled it forward four centuries into the present, rhyme scheme and all. "It's a piss-take on pretentious literary conceit," writes Fleming. "That the learned fool is more of a fool than an ignorant one remains as much a conundrum for us in the 21st century as it did for audiences in the 17th." So what's it about? Juliette wants to marry Clinton. Her father approves, but her mother wants her to marry a poet, Tristan Tosser. Clinton's ex-girlfriend is also Juliette's sister, who's keen to torpedo her sister's chances. Cue farce, of the sprawling and tangled variety which Molière did so well. The Literati, co-produced by Griffin and Bell Shakespeare and directed by Lee Lewis, promises to be a hilarious and anarchic romp that prods at Sydney's culture of faux-intellectualism.
If you're the kind of beer lover who feels like they've tried every brew ever — or you've made it your mission to achieve that yeasty goal — then you're probably a big fan of the Great Australasian Beer Spectapular. For more than a decade now, since it started off as a Melbourne-only celebration of ales, lagers, ciders and more, the event has been serving up weird, wild, wonderful and inventive varieties, many of which are made exclusively for the booze-sipping shindig. In 2022, that's set to be the case once more, with the beer fest returning for a tour of Australia's east coast capitals in May. GABS is considered to be one of the best craft beer and cider festivals in the Asia Pacific region for good reason, and this year it has at least 120 of them, because that's how many brews will be on offer. Prepare to knock back beers inspired by breakfast foods, savoury snacks, desserts, cocktails and more when the event kicks off its 2022 run at the Brisbane Convention and Exhibition Centre on Saturday, May 7, then heads to Sydney's ICC Darling Harbour from Friday, May 20–Saturday, May 21, then finishes up its Aussie dates at the Royal Exhibition Building, Melbourne, over the weekend of Friday, May 27–Sunday, May 29. Some of the foods and drinks that this year's GABS brews are taking their cues from: peanut butter, coffee, earl grey tea, chicken salt, pizza, fairy floss, bubblegum and sour gummi bears. Confirmed highlights include Brouhaha's Baked and Wasted, a sour which uses wasted baked goods; Capital Brewing Co's experimental Smooches, which pairs cocao nibs with a strawberry kick; Mismatch Brewing Co's We Love NY Cheesecake stout, in case you've ever wondered what cheesecake in a glass tastes like; and The Catchment Brewing Co's Ra Ra Raspoutine, another stout that, yes, is brewed from chips, cheese and gravy. The event surveys both Australian and New Zealand breweries, with more than 60 set to be pouring their wares in Brisbane, and 70-plus in Sydney and Melbourne. As well as the aforementioned outfits, this year they'll also include Balter, Range, Otherside, Black Hops, Ballistic, Your Mates, Mountain Culture, One Drop and Little Creatures, as well as Colonial, Mountain Goat and Bentspoke — and NZ's Garage Project and Panhead Custom Ale. Also on the bill: other types of tipples, including non-alcoholic beers, seltzers, whiskey, gin, cocktails and wines (including by 19 Crimes Snoop Dog Cali Red). GABS is known for dishing up a hefty lineup of activities to accompanying all that sipping, too, which'll span a silent disco, roaming bands, circus and sideshow performers, games and panels with industry leaders in 2022, as well as local food trucks and vendors to line your stomach. GREAT AUSTRALASIAN BEER SPECTAPULAR 2022 DATES: Saturday, May 7 — Brisbane Convention and Exhibition Centre, Brisbane Friday, May 20–Saturday, May 21 — ICC Darling Harbour, Sydney Friday, May 27–Sunday, May 29 — Royal Exhibition Building, Melbourne GABS takes place across Australia's east coast throughout May — head to the event's website for tickets and further details.
UPDATE, May 16, 2021: You Were Never Really Here is available to stream via Shudder, Google Play, YouTube Movies and iTunes. Never has a beard felt as important as it does in You Were Never Really Here. Mottled with grey and sporting the texture of steel wool, it's visibly abrasive. It looks scratchy to touch, and as though its coarse mess would grate against the skin underneath. That skin belongs to Joe (Joaquin Phoenix), though he's troubled by more than his choice of facial hair. In fact, the desolation in his eyes and the menacing heft of his frame suggest that his shield of bristles is thoroughly by design. An assassin who rescues young girls from sex trafficking rings — and who's haunted by his own childhood abuse, as well as his past as a soldier and FBI agent — he coats his chin with a wiry nest partly as armour, partly in order to feel something. The fourth film by directorLynne Ramsay, You Were Never Really Here inspires intricate dissections of every element within its frames — and every aspect of its brooding protagonist, too. Charting Joe's latest assignment, it's ostensibly a crime thriller, but it's really a character study of a despairing man. As the filmmaker demonstrated in We Need to Talk About Kevin, her movies relay their narratives with a minimalistic but expressionist touch. They plunge viewers into their protagonist's headspace with distorted flourishes, yet offer up only what they need to. You Were Never Really Here achieves this with jarring flashes of Joe's memories, with shots that box people in using their surroundings, and with a ragged, raging score by Radiohead's Jonny Greenwood. It also does the same just by staring at Joe, and letting audiences soak up his broken yet brutal presence. First seen finishing a job in Cincinnati (and trying to finish himself as well), Joe is a man of few modes. Usually he's ruthless and task-oriented, whether arranging his next hit, buying the hammer he'll wield or deploying his deadly skills. When he's at his Queens home with his elderly mother (Judith Roberts), he's kind and caring, a tenor he reserves only for that situation. In-between, he's fighting a war inside — one that he can temporarily put at bay by saving exploited children or by playfully singing with his mum, but can never completely win. The suicide attempts continue, fuelled by emptiness and isolation, although something holds him back. Then Joe is enlisted to rescue Nina (Ekaterina Samsonov), the pre-teen daughter of a New York senator (Alex Manette), and his world goes astray. Early in the piece, Joe takes a cab from a job, but this isn't merely an updated Taxi Driver. He speaks little and swings a hammer, but the film isn't a riff on Drive. He even watches Psycho with his mother — and recreates its infamous screeching noise and stabbing motion outside of his bathroom — but that's not where this is heading either. As boilerplate as You Were Never Really Here might sound with its tormented protagonist, avenging storyline and penchant for violence, this isn't a picture that walks in anyone's shoes other than Ramsay's own. The writer-director has long delved into the lingering echoes of trauma, not only in the dense and complex Kevin but in her earlier efforts Ratcatcher and Morvern Caller too. If other flicks spring to viewers' minds when watching You Were Never Really Here, that's purely because Ramsay has only made four features in two decades — and, criminally, her last came out seven years ago. While it's a distinctively immersive Ramsay creation, You Were Never Really Here isn't a film that's big on plot. The novella it's based on numbers less than 100 pages, after all. But if Joe's tale is concise in the hands of author Jonathan Ames (Bored to Death), then it's positively stripped bare on the screen in the bleakest, tensest yet also most rewarding way. There's freedom in such an economical approach — the freedom to build an entire world around Joe's festering pain, to show why he'd rather just disappear, and to explore how the agony he can't shake shapes his entire reality. Indeed, You Were Never Really Here is disarmingly effective in conveying how post traumatic stress disorder burrows into the deepest recesses of someone's mind, controls their every move, and casts an enormous shadow over everything that they see and hear. And, of course, why it might spark them to lurk both at the edges of society and behind a scruffy beard. Playing Joe, Phoenix won the Cannes Film Festival's best actor prize for more than just his appearance. His is a powerfully wounded performance, a portrayal that wears the character's internal distress as openly as the scars that cover his back and arms. Phoenix boasts a resume filled with damaged figures, be they vicious in Gladiator or sweet in Her, and he's the ideal actor for Ramsay's intense and exacting film. Smashing skulls, cradling bodies in a stream, slurping milkshakes — no matter what he's doing, he's as gripping and galvanising as he's ever been. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fQyDaGWQ43w
After a stint in Heath Ledger's hometown, this stunning exhibition is making its way east to Canberra's National Film and Sound Archive. Celebrating the Perth-born actor's charisma, exemplary career and passionate creativity, Heath Ledger: A Life in Pictures is a must-see for all Ledger fans. Put together by AGWA, the WA Museum and guest curator Allison Holland, the exhibition follows Ledger's career from his teenage years up to his final role in The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus (2009). You'll get to see costumes — including the Joker suit from The Dark Knight and the shirts he wore as Ennis del Mar in Brokeback Mountain — alongside research journals (on display for the first time) that grant an insight into how Ledger developed his roles. Also included in the show are photographic portraits by the likes of Karin Catt and Bruce Weber, Ledger's Best Supporting Actor Oscar and BAFTA, and a chronological narrative of his career — including his own experimentation with image making and creative projects as a director. Promises to be a bittersweet reminder of just how talented Ledger was, and what even greater heights he would have gone on to achieve.
Just over a decade ago, Noomi Rapace was The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo — The Girl Who Played with Fire and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, too. After starring in the first film adaptations of Steig Larsson's best-selling Millennium books, the Swedish actor then brought her penchant for simmering ferocity to Alien prequel Prometheus, and to movies as varied as erotic thriller Passion, crime drama The Drop and Australian-shot thriller Angel of Mine. But Lamb might be her best role yet, and best performance. A picture that puts her silent film era-esque features to stunning use, it stares into the soul of a woman not just yearning for her own modest slice of happiness, but willing to do whatever it takes to get it. It also places Rapace opposite a flock of sheep, and has her cradle a baby that straddles both species; however, this Icelandic blend of folk-horror thrills, relationship dramas and even deadpan comedy is as human as it is ovine. At first, Lamb is all animal. Something rumbles in the movie's misty, mountainside farm setting, spooking the horses. In the sheep barn, where cinematographer Eli Arenson (Hospitality) swaps arresting landscape for a ewe's-eye view, the mood is tense and restless as well. Making his feature debut, filmmaker Valdimar Jóhannsson doesn't overplay his hand early. As entrancing as the movie's visuals prove in all their disquieting stillness, he keeps the film cautious about what's scaring the livestock. But Lamb's expert sound design offers a masterclass in evoking unease from its very first noise, and makes it plain that all that eeriness, anxiety and dripping distress has an unnerving — and tangible — source. The farm belongs to Rapace's Maria and her partner Ingvar (Hilmir Snær Guðnason, A White, White Day), who've thrown themselves into its routines after losing a child. They're a couple that let their taciturn faces do the talking, including with each other, but neither hides their delight when one ewe gives birth to a hybrid they name Ada. Doting and beaming, they take the sheep-child into their home as their own. Its woolly mother stands staring and baa-ing outside their kitchen window, but they're both content in and fiercely protective of their newfound domestic happiness. When Ingvar's ex-pop star brother Pétur (Björn Hlynur Haraldsson, Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga) arrives unexpectedly, they don't even dream of hiding their new family idyll — even as he's initially shocked and hardly approving. Jóhannsson isn't one for telling rather than showing, as Lamb's sparse dialogue ensures. That said, he doesn't unveil Ada a second before he needs to, either. While Maria has a little lamb and its fleece is as white as snow, the film spends much of its first half revelling in how the creature's arrival drastically alters the household's mood. Lamb is firmly a tone poem, in fact, living, bleating and breathing in its titular critter's wake. Something sinister still dwells — and recurrent shots of Iceland's towering surroundings still ripple with foreboding — but Maria and Ingvar have eagerly snatched up what bliss they can. Smartly, when the revealing shot comes, and also when Ada keeps being seen in all her human-animal glory (courtesy of live animals and children, plus CGI and also puppetry), Jóhannsson's winning mix of anticipation and playfulness isn't shorn away. It's easy to spy another picture from this part of the world with an ovine focus and think of Rams (the original, not the 2020 Australian remake). Recalling A White, White Day's musing on grief and its stunning use of wintry landscapes is just as straightforward as well. Throw in the fact that Lamb frolics forth from US distributor A24 — home to fellow folk-horror hits The Witch and Midsommar, the nightmarishly atmospheric Hereditary and The Lighthouse, and the dark and discomforting The Lobster and The Killing of a Sacred Deer, with the company's moniker now accepted in filmic circles as shorthand for a particular type of indie flick — and believing you know what's in store is equally understandable. But like Robert Eggers, Ari Aster and Yorgos Lanthimos, the directors behind those aforementioned features, Jóhannsson has made a disquieting and dazzling movie that couldn't be more distinctive. Indeed, just as Ada is her own creature, Lamb is its own singular film. Nursery rhyme nods and fairy tale-like touches add extra layers to Lamb's contemplation of parenthood, loss and all the stress that comes with each; however, the movie's religious symbolism is less effective. Christmas songs echo, placing the film at a time of year already loaded with meaning. A manger obviously exists on the farm, too. Also, having a woman called Maria embrace motherhood after a miraculous birth clearly isn't an accidental move on Jóhannsson and co-screenwriter Sjón (an Icelandic poet and frequent Bjork collaborator's) behalf. What rings loudest among these inclusions is the notion of grasping onto whatever you need to in order to understand and endure all that life throws your way. Lamb is also a movie about nature versus nurture, so brooding over the impact of choices both overt and innate cosily resides in the same paddock. Enticing, surreal and starkly unsettling all at once, Lamb also benefits from exceptional animal performances — it won the Cannes Film Festival's Grand Jury Prize for Palm Dog, the prestigious event's awards for best canine acting — and its own savvy. It nabbed Un Certain Regard Prize of Originality at Cannes as well, but the movie's shrewdness isn't limited to its standout concept. Each patient shot that roves over the hillside, peeks through the fog, and soaks in the strain and pressure is just as astute. Each rustle, huff and jangle in the film's soundscape proves the same. Every aesthetic decision paints Lamb in unease and uncertainty, in fact, and lets its lingering gaze towards the steely Rapace, affecting Guðnason and their four-legged co-stars unleash an intense and absurdist pastoral symphony of dread and hope, bleakness and sweetness, and terror and love.
Norah Head Lighthouse is a 1903-built lighthouse that's as popular for its twilight tours as it is for weddings with a view. And for proximity to hard-to-reach beaches and uninterrupted whale watching vistas, its two former lighthouse keeper quarters are hard to beat. Each early 20th century living quarters has three bedrooms and ample shared spaces for dining and relaxing, both available from $355 per night. From the quarters you'll be within walking distance to rock pools and bush walking trails, and when you return you'll have use of a barbecue and time to explore the grounds. Don't feel like cooking? Don't worry, your food ordering apps work here too. And once COVID-19 restrictions are lifted, make sure you time your trip to climb the 96 stairs of the lighthouse for those 360-degree views.
The signature event of our city in summer, the Sydney Festival, kicks off 2013 with the Dirty Projectors, Vivienne Westwood, a series of blind dates, and a giant rubber duckie. They feature among the first line-up curated by new festival director Lieven Bertels, in which more than 750 artists from almost 20 countries will present nearly 100 works of music, performance, and visual arts from January 5-27. Unexpected gems will no doubt be uncovered throughout the festival, but from this early vantage point, these are the 12 events that stand out and have us clamouring for tickets. 1. Semele Walk Fashion show opera is the performing arts medium we didn't even know we wanted. Now we can't wait for Semele Walk to get here so we can gather around the runway for Handel's tragic Semele as told through the deconstructed opulence of Vivienne Westwood's costumes. Expect a sequinned kilt, diamond-studded socks, plenty of crinolines, and kabuki make-up. Westwood's punk roots aren't completely gone from the playlist, either, with Berlin ensemble Kaleidoskop mixing some sly pop music departures into their arrangement. Sydney's known to favour Semele's mythological son, Bacchus, god of wine, and this should be just the occasion to meet the family. January 11-15; Sydney Town Hall. 2. David Byrne & St. Vincent An odd couple to some, a truly remarkable couple to others. Former Talking Heads frontman David Byrne and multi-instrumentalist St. Vincent (aka Annie Clark) will be unleashing their brass-heavy collaborations at one of the classiest joints around town — the State Theatre. The New York-based duo will be accompanied by a brass band on the evening to ensure every quirky interjection from their debut release, Love This Giant, is executed live. The two artists are like kindred spirits, seamlessly creating a record that stays true to each artist's musical identity yet morphs into an entirely new musical beast of its own. When brought to life, this giant will no doubt take on greater sonic measures for an enthralling live experience. January 17 and 18; State Theatre. 3. The Quiet Volume It's always the quiet ones. Members of the Concrete Playground team saw this unassuming audio-theatre piece by UK artists Ant Hampton and Tim Etchells in Utrecht and reported it to be phenomenal. The Quiet Volume has you sit side by side with a partner in the Mitchell Library, each of you with headphones on and a stack of books at your elbow. The words on the page, the voice in your ear, and occasionally the companion at your table guide you through a journey that shakes up your understanding of the act of reading. The whispered, interactive work also makes for a great excuse to visit the library, an institution so many of us still have a great love for although rarely visit. January 7-25; Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW. 4. 2001: A Space Odyssey No Stanley Kubrick film is more lauded for its dramatic marriage of sight and sound than 2001: A Space Odyssey. Ligeti’s spectral Requiem plays to a mysterious black monolith and Strauss's 1986 'Also Sprach Zarathusa' strains to the fabrication of a hominid’s first weapon, all while making the soundless moments paint the chilling void of the infinite beyond clearer than any music could. At this year's Sydney Festival the soundtrack of Kubrick's sci-fi masterpiece will be played live by the Sydney Symphony and Sydney Philharmonic Choirs as the film itself is blown up onto an equally dramatic big screen. January 24 and 25; Concert Hall, Sydney Opera House. 5. The Moment I Saw You I Knew I Could Love You This performance includes a local octogenarian couple still adorably in love, jelly-like lilo seating, and a trip into the belly of a whale. You're totally sold on it already, right? Fortunately, The Moment I Saw You I Knew I Could Love You seems to live up to its promise, with Lyn Gardner of the Guardian giving the show four stars, saying, "There is something immensely wistful about a piece that demonstrates that we are merely chemical compounds, and yet also shows us how to discover equilibrium." Creators Leslie Hill and Helen Paris from UK company Curious have worked with filmmaker Andrew Kotting, composer Graeme Miller, and chanteuse Claudia Barton to combine film, live performance, soundscape, and installation in unexpected ways, coming up with something truly special. It's part of the About an Hour series of performances, each $35. January 11-13; Carriageworks. 6. Dirty Projectors When you’ve built your reputation on being rather odd, it’s a risk to make an album heavy on catchy hooks and cohesive lyrics. It’s one that pays off on Swing Lo Magellan, the latest from American rock outfit Dirty Projectors. The album is still an intricate layer cake of highly charged hooks, tender melodies and the orchestral vocals of singer Amber Coffman. And if we're running with a cake theme, you could even call it the musical Heston Blumenthal Exploding Chocolate Gateau — it's rich and probably required expensive power tools to assemble, yet still retains a surprising amount of pop and is damn easy to devour. Last time Dirty Projectors were here they played the Metro Theatre, but the Sydney Opera House's Concert Hall is far more befitting of their exquisite orchestration. January 21; Concert Hall, Sydney Opera House. 7. Eraritjaritjaka Heiner Goebbels is the celebrity of the 2013 Sydney Festival, as far as the experimental performance nerds are concerned. But the director and composer's esoteric-sounding works can be relied on to hit a nerve no matter whether you've done the background reading. Eraritjaritjaka, which means 'regret for lost things' in the Indigenous Australian Arunta language, features the unflinching texts of Nobel Laureate Elias Canetti, live music by Amsterdam's Mondriaan String Quartet, an actor who takes the whole audience with him when he leaves the stage, and a lesson on how to chop an onion in perfect time with the music of Ravel. The expansive multimedia performance has toured the world since 2004 and now makes its exclusive Australian appearance at the Theatre Royal. January 9-13; Theatre Royal. 8. Nicolas Jaar Read three articles about Nicolas Jaar’s debut album Space Is Only Noise and you can probably expect two of them to make some mention to the Guardian dubbing him “The renaissance man of electronic music.” It’s a tag that isn’t at all unjustified. Jaar’s music is not only quick-witted (in the sense that it’s both highly intelligent and sprinkled with humour) but spearheading (though not on its own) what could be called an electronic revolution. If you follow dance music closely, you could get high off the way it morphs deep house and techno into something soulful and ambient, and if you don’t, its beautiful melancholy is no less addictive. Another great thing about Jaar is his ability to command a room with the barely audible in the same way others command a room with thumping bass. FBi are bringing him over for the Sydney Festival this January, so be at the Town Hall on the 23rd for proof. January 23; Sydney Town Hall. 9. Day One Rubber duckie you're the one; you make staring out over Darling Harbour so much fun. Childhood nostalgics will be beside themselves at the visiting art installation Rubber Duck by Florentijn Hofman, which is five storeys high. We loved it when it popped up in France's Loire River earlier this year, and we'll love it closer up when it bobs into Cockle Bay to mark the opening of the Sydney Festival in the two-hour spectacle billed The Arrival, complete with acrobats, 3000 littler ducks, and the opening of the Pyrmont Bridge. Also happening on Day One is Fun Run, a theatricalised marathon focusing on one guy on a treadmill in Hyde Park (you can even be a part of it — no running required), and the Daptone Super Soul Revue, a huge outdoor dance party in the Domain that thrills every year. It's disappointing that state funding for the ever-expanding street party Festival First Night was slashed in 2012, but Sydney Festival organisers are clearly showing off their powers of making-do with the fun, free, concentrated three acts of Day One that go from 9.30am until late into the night. January 5; Hyde Park, Darling Harbour, and the Domain. 10. Perfume Genius The discrepancy between Perfume Genius's Twitter feed and his music is incredible. As Mike Hadreas he channels his often unnerving honesty into a series of vulgar 140-character trivialities about everything from fondling the f*** out of zits to applying cheapo L'Oreal BB cream. As Perfume Genius he channels it into beautifully harrowing lamentations on serious personal traumas ranging from prostitution to drug addiction. At his live show you get a sense of both sides of Hadreas, making it an even more genuine look into the singular musician’s mind. January 26 and 27; the Famous Spiegeltent. 11. It's Dark Outside The Adventures of Alvin Sputnik: Deep Sea Explorer won over Sydney Festival audiences in 2011 with its charming, low-fi futuristic world wrought through live action, animation, puppetry, and song. Now that production's creators return with It's Dark Outside, which uses similar ingredients to tell the tale of an old man suffering from dementia. His Sundown Syndrome, which makes him wander off as evening approaches, here becomes a poetic Wild West landscape where puffs of cloud escape from him and a butterfly-net-wielding tracker is hot on his heels. For anyone who's watched a loved one succumb to Alzheimer's or fretted over the inadequacy of their own memory, it's sure to be a moving 60 minutes. It's Dark Outside is another highlight of the About an Hour line-up. January 11-17; Carriageworks. 12. Micro Parks If you've walked the back streets of Newtown and Erskineville, you've probably stumbled upon one of several random little parks that are in blocks between houses and sweet but decidedly empty. Performance Space has a solution to that: put An Art in it. With Micro Parks, they've commissioned four new installations and performances to fill the scattered spaces, which you can seek out by aid of a map acquired from the Carriageworks base. There's dance by Martin del Amo and Julie-Anne Long, tea ceremonies by Sarah Goffman, social sculpture by Kate Mitchell, and performance by Jess Olivieri and the Parachutes for Ladies. Leslie Knope would surely approve. (Carriageworks is full of great stuff during Sydney Festival; check out the epic Waste Not installation by Song Dong in the foyer while you're there.) January 11-13; Carriageworks. Check out the full 2013 program at the Sydney Festival website. By Rima Sabina Aouf and Hannah Ongley.
For 22 years, BIGSOUND has highlighted Australia's music industry, getting power players sharing their experience and advice, championing up-and-coming talents, fostering crucial connections, and celebrating live tunes and the folks that make them happen in general. Here's a few other handy numbers for the music conference-slash-festival's upcoming 2023 run: four days, 18 venues, 141 artists and 300-plus showcases. Brisbanites and music obsessives, take note: the Sunshine State capital will be Australia's music haven between Tuesday, September 5–Friday, September 8. Earlier this year, BIGSOUND announced its first speakers, headlined ROC Nation's Omar Grant — who was once the road manager for Destiny's Child and now shares the President role at Jay-Z's entertainment agency. Now, it has dropped the full list of musicians that'll be getting behind a microphone. More than 1300 applications to hit BIGSOUND's stages were received for the 2023 event, but it's the festival team's job to whittle them down to the standouts. Among those making the bill: Brisbane's own Full Flower Moon Band, Zheani, Felivand and Baby Prince; Sydney's Moss and Little Green; Melbourne's PANIA, Moaning Lisa and The Slingers; Perth's DICE and Siobhan Cotchin; and Adelaide's Aleksiah and The Empty Threats. From New Zealand comes Reb Fountain and SWIDT, while Casey Mowry and MF Tomlinson are heading to Queensland from the UK. [caption id="attachment_861894" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Lachlan Douglas[/caption] The list goes on, complete with a significant focus on representation. Among 2023's talents, 27 percent identify as LGBTQIA+, 50 percent are female or gender non-conforming, and First Nations acts comprise 18 percent of the lineup. Indeed, 27 showcases will be devoted to Australia's Indigenous artists, including Miss Kaninna, Loren Ryan, Brady, The Merindas, J-MILLA, CLOE TERARE, Tjaka and Kobie Dee. Fancy checking out the most isolated heavy metal band in the world? That'd be Southeast Desert Metal, and they're also on the roster. [caption id="attachment_907800" align="alignnone" width="1920"] Simone Gorman-Clark[/caption] Top image: Jess Gleeson.
Philadelphia indie-rockers The War on Drugs have revealed they will play two sideshows in Sydney and Melbourne alongside their Australian debut performances at Falls Festival and Southbound. Devoted fans will no doubt be crossing their fingers that some material from their much-awaited third album will be unveiled during the tour. The War on Drugs emerged onto the scene back in 2005 as a musical collaboration between frontman and creative honcho Adam Granduciel and Kurt Vile, who has since left to pursue a solo career with his backing band The Violators. If you've never heard of them but you like your rock and roll a little bit classic (think a bit of Petty, a splash of Springsteen and, vocally, a whole lot of Dylan), then you may want to grab tickets to a show. The War on Drugs plays Melbourne's Northcote Social Club on Monday, 28 December, and the Oxford Art Factory in Sydney on Monday, 6 January. Tickets are on sale now through Handsome Tours.
Ever since Freddie Mercury teamed up with Brian May and company back in the 70s, Queen has never been out of fashion. And, thanks to Bohemian Rhapsody and the band's current members touring Down Under, the UK group has been grabbing plenty of attention again in recent years. You could call it a kind of magic. You could say that their songs must go on. Either way, if you're happy to let the British band keep rocking you, then you'll want to catch London's Queen by Candlelight when it debuts in Australia. While Queen tribute nights aren't rare — and neither are ones lit by flickering flames — this is the OG West End production, which features a live rock band and a cast of singers from London busting out the group's famous tracks. Been feeling a crazy little thing called love for Freddie and his bandmates? Then you'll clearly be in the right spot, with Queen by Candlelight playing Brisbane, Sydney, Canberra, Melbourne, Adelaide and Perth in February. If your approach to the group's music is "I want it all!", that's what you'll hear. For one night per city, the event will break free so that Queen lovers can celebrate with their fellow champions. The aim: to make you feel like you're hearing the real thing, in venues glowing with candles. In the UK, the gigs — which feature more than 20 Queen tracks — have proven sellouts. Also part of the same tour are Meatloaf by Candlelight shows, busting out the late singer's tunes — if you'd do anything for that. They'll feature the same kind of setup, but with Australia's Simon Gordon, who hits the stage after playing Strat in the Meatloaf-inspired musical Bat Out of Hell on West End and internationally. In all cities, the Queen shows play one night and the Meatloaf gigs run either one or two evenings later. QUEEN BY CANDLELIGHT AND MEATLOAF BY CANDLELIGHT 2023 AUSTRALIAN TOUR: Wednesday, February 1 (Queen) and Thursday, February 2 (Meatloaf) — Queensland Performing Arts Centre, Brisbane Sunday, February 5 (Queen) and Monday, February 6 (Meatloaf) — Darling Harbour Theatre, Sydney Wednesday, February 8 (Queen) and Thursday, February 9 (Meatloaf) — Royal Theatre, Canberra Monday, February 13 (Queen) and Wednesday, February 15 (Meatloaf) — Melbourne Town Hall and Melbourne Palais, Melbourne Friday, February 17 (Queen) and Saturday, February 18 (Meatloaf) — Festival Theatre, Adelaide Tuesday, February 21 (Queen) and Thursday, February 23 (Meatloaf) — Perth Concert Hall, Perth The Queen and Meatloaf by Candlelight shows are touring Australia in February 2023. For more information and tickets, head to the tour's website.
It's become an all-too familiar sight on the streets of suburban Australia: yellow oBikes, most likely missing a seat or pedal, lying semi-submerged in a canal, slumped against a tree or even, somehow, suspended halfway up it. The dockless bike system, which launched in Sydney in August last year, has suffered setbacks with stolen bikes and council restrictions. But love it or hate it, it looks like we're not about to see them go anytime soon. And if you thought the Singaporean-based juggernaut oBike was content to stop at just bikes, think again. 'oSkate' — a skateboard sharing platform in partnership with global deck brand EMillion — was announced last night during a swanky launch party at Sydney's Ivy Ballroom, with oBike CEO Iocus Finlayson naming Sydney as its primary test city. It will then roll out the new service across Melbourne and Adelaide in the following months. "Ease of mobility lies at the heart of our company" explained Finlayson to a gathering of the city's movers, shakers and social media influencers. "But the feedback we continue to receive is that people want greater variety in the way they get from A to B, and for many the oBike is just too cumbersome or takes up too much space on sidewalks and pedestrian thoroughfares. oSkate not only introduces a smaller, streamlined dynamic to the dockless economy, but we think a cooler one, too". Cooler? The jury's still out, but oSkate does solve a major administrative nightmare for oBike courtesy of Australia's unique mandatory helmet laws. "It's true that under Australian law you do require a helmet for bikes, but not for skateboards" confirmed Allens Linklaters Senior Associate Alex Mason. "Even so, we'd recommend one all the same if you can manage it. Safety should trump convenience, always". The company plans to roll out the first of its decks by June 1 this year, each of which will be fitted with the familiar wheel blocking mechanism that can only be unlocked via the oBike app (which itself will soon be rebranded as 'oMode' to keep in-line with the soon to be expanded transportation options). Finlayson also set out the company's rollout plan for the coming 12 months, some of which was met with more enthusiastic cheers than others. Chief among the popular announcements was 'oBoard' — a surf, boogie and stand-up paddle board service to begin operation next summer — as well as roller skates and rollerblades to supplement the oSkate program. Finally, 'oKick' will be phased in early 2019, offering unlockable running shoes to those eager to burn off a heavy night's drinking without ruining their beloved Louboutins.
June marks the beginning of Guest Chef Sundays at Casoni in Darlinghurst. Casoni head chef Lachlan Robinson will join forces with chefs from some of Sydney and Melbourne's most well-known restaurants to create a series of one-off lunch menus. Joseph Vargetto of Melbourne's Mister Bianco will be bringing his Southern Italian heritage to the kitchen on June 14. Together, he and Robinson will showcase an amazing blend of traditional and modern Italian flavours. Kiwi chef Morgan McGlone will be in the kitchen on June 28 to create a pasta degustation inspired by his time at Husk Nashville and Belle's Hot Chicken in Melbourne. Tickets include five courses with optional matching wines. Bookings are essential.
With Lost in Translation, Sofia Coppola brought everyone's secret desire to the big screen. Who hasn't wished they could roam around Tokyo with Bill Murray, sing karaoke with him, hang out in the ultra luxurious Park Hyatt Tokyo's sky-high bar with him and just generally call upon him for advice? Now, with On the Rocks, the writer/director is giving viewers a new dream. Here, Bill Murray plays a larger-than-life playboy who is still a caring dad, and who moseys around New York helping his daughter discover whether her husband is being unfaithful. Yes, swap cities and exchange Scarlett Johansson for Parks and Recreation's Rashida Jones, and On the Rocks seems to take a few cues from Lost in Translation — but the latter was such a delight, no one is going to mind. Based on the just-dropped first trailer for the Apple TV+ film, however, the mood this time around is a little less melancholy, with On the Rocks serving up a father-daughter comedy about generational differences and complicated modern families. The full setup: Laura (Jones) initially doesn't really think twice when her other half, Dean (Marlon Wayans), suddenly starts working late more often. Soon though — and after her dad Felix's (Murray) not-so-comforting words of wisdom — she begins to wonder if Dean is cheating. That suspicion demands investigating, Felix decides, which sparks an offbeat adventure around NYC, and will also clearly help the pair work through their own complex relationship. Coppola's seventh feature, On the Rocks is also her first since 2017's The Beguiled won her the Best Director award at the Cannes Film Festival — where she became only the second woman to win the prize. And, it's her latest excuse to team up with Murray, with the pair last working together on 2015 Netflix special A Very Murray Christmas. Also familiar in On the Rocks' trailer: the sounds of Phoenix, who provide the movie's music. The French band have also been involved in Coppola's The Virgin Suicides, Lost in Translation, Marie Antoinette, Somewhere, The Bling Ring and The Beguiled in some shape or form, too — frontman Thomas Mars is Coppola's husband, after all. Check out the trailer for On the Rocks below: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xn3sK4WiviA&feature=youtu.be&goal=0_745cb9c02a-6077870a17-84180621&mc_cid=6077870a17&mc_eid=30ab429929 On the Rocks hits Apple TV+ in October — we'll update you when a specific release date is announced.
Never fear: the bones of this grungy pub are still the same. From the outside, it looks like the good ol' Abercrombie. Inside, there's still plenty of character but the tartan carpet is clean, the tiled walls have been nicely restored and there are quirky little touches everywhere. Homely pictures cover the walls, knick knacks that you might find in a crazy hip granny’s house hang above the bar, and there's disco lights all over the place. It’s clearly designed for the uni crowd, with prices to match, and it’s a lot of fun in here. The fun continues with the food and a crazy drinks list - look out for Camel Toe and MacGyver. As is the trend, Abercrombie specialises in comfort food meets greasy hangover, with a touch of Mexican. And there's plenty of good matches to be made, particularly with the designed-for-drinking grits menu. Try the Scotch Egg Slider ($6) with a Coopers Lagerita ($13), Chorizo and Jalapeno Tacos ($5.50) with a Berocca Colada ($13) and/or a Mac N Cheese Ball ($12) with Rave Juice ($13). Rave Juice, you say? That's Red Bull and Agwa in a glad bag, with glow stick and straw. Yes, really. The uni theme also extends into the mains. Pick from a Philly Cheese Steak ($17) or Schnitzel with Bolognaise ($16) and, for dessert, it's hard to go past a Deep Fried Golden Gaytime ($7). The Abercrombie is the uni bar we all wanted - it might even tempt you to re-enrol. Click here for full review and details
