Societies used to have forums, then markets, then the High street — a main shopping road and gossip factory, where people got together to talk about this and that, and especially each other. Now, as these older places wane, people have the internet to get together and talk about forums, markets, High streets and the future of the Internet, and especially each other. For Philip Brophy's film Northern Void, that meeting place is Preston in Melbourne's north. Set in the lite, consumer haze of its sleeping suburbs, Northern Void imagines the tramless slow transformation of the High street he lived in as a child. Or something like it. Stretched over the near, far and furthest future to a soundtrack by Brophy and Philip Samartzis, the film was originally presented taking advantage of the flash new facilities of Melbourne's national film centre, the ACMI. As part of their Clubhouse series, the Performance Space is putting it on here as well. If the need for a vibrant public space consumes you, or if the yen for good experimental film absorbs you, Brophy offers you a piece to talk about. Photos from Northern Void by Pancho Calladetti.
Forget the arena spectacular. The new frontier of public art is found in the dimension of the intimate, in those tiny stadiums behind our eyes where imagination and emotion achieve more than the most exorbitant budgets. For the next week you have the opportunity to experience such works by a new generation of artists in the village of Erskineville. Curated by Quarterbred and produced by PACT, Tiny Stadiums overtakes public and performance spaces throughout Erskineville with live, sound, visual and participatory projects. Let's hover for a moment on that word "participatory". Long feared by audiences across the world, the concept of participation has shifted significantly for Tiny Stadiums. Rather than a forced exposure in front of your peers, this style of participation is about an invitation for the public to engage with the work on a tactile or task-based level. In this 2011 program, Tiny Stadiums will have audience members promoting shows with flyers, writing postcards to old friends, being awoken by industrial alarm clocks and competing with one another to achieve corporate success. For those not wanting to do much more than watch, Tiny Stadiums also presents works that contain a sense of intimacy without actually touching your flesh. Nat Randall's solo piece, Cheer Up Kid, is a disarming encounter with three characters whose comic idiosyncrasies become tragic revelations of quite melancholic realities. Elsewhere, Bennett Miller (of Dachshund UN fame) has created a film designed to welcome and honour the ibis birds that decorate Sydney bins, parks and playgrounds. Definitely stretch your imagination this week, and get active in rebooting your world with this third installment of Tiny Stadiums.
Story Club has been happening, like so many stories in Sydney do, in a tiny bar in the Inner West. It's been going on for over a year, like the duller of these stories can end up feeling like. But the Story Club stories are good, honest! They've put all the energy they didn't use on making up a name into sourcing the finest tellers and tales, and have ended up with a writing-performance-comedy kind of mash-up that's found itself a definite following. People, it seems, love stories. And that's really for the best, given that we can't get along without them: we need stories for our history, for making architectural metaphors about communication, so not all pornography is 'Gonzo' style (same for journalism), and generally to explain and to understand. We all hear them; we all tell them — some of them more than others, or so Story Club's story goes. That One Story scoops up some of the talent from the Sydney Comedy Festival alongside their regular participants and gets them to tell their go-to story, the one you tell when you want to say something good, or you just don't know what to say but you've got to say something. See what Felicity Ward, Dan Ilic, Chaser alums and Penguin Plays Rough readers-aloud say when they get nervous or cute.
Every six years, pilgrims descend on the Ganges for either the Kumbh festival or Ardh Kumbh Mela, each larger than the yearly pilgrimage to Mecca. These two festivals are famous, as are the burial rites along the river's banks. With much of this culture along the river having a spiritual bent, some people along the river's banks focus much more on the spiritual aesthetics of people's present incarnations. These streetside artists at work tattooing the passers by are the focus of Lo-Fi Collective's latest endeavour at the Standard: Hindu Tattoo. Artists Sarah Murphy and Matt Feder were interested in the tattoos, the tattooed and the tattooers, and have assembled their images for this show — as well as a collection of custom frames — to give you a better look at the art-seekers by the banks of this sacred river. For a look into what people really value, tattoos show what moved them now, and what moved them before. The shifting meanings of old icons slips into view, making a living palimpsest of ideas or spirituality. And permanent though these tatts may seem, these photos won't be returning anytime soon. Image by Matt Feder.
A History of Everything: They mean it literally. This co-production between young Belgians Ontroerend Goed (The Smile Off Your Face, Once And For All We're Gonna Tell You Who We Are So Shut Up and Listen) and the STC's Residents takes you on a careening ride through the history of human society, organic life, tectonic shifts and the birth and expansion of the universe. EVERYTHING. It all starts today, whatever today is on the day you see the show. (Yes, A History of Everything is a bit rewritten each night. Naturally. That's what happens with history.) On our night in the world, the search continued for survivors from the Costa Concordia and Sydneysiders complained about the closure of the Harbour Bridge, among other things. These events are recounted by the seven-strong ensemble, well armed with props, as they move across a stage marked with a map of the Earth. As the counter behind them starts ticking backwards in allotments of days, then months, then years, then decades, centuries, millennia, a hundred millennia, so does their narration. It's somehow both more and less complex than it sounds. There's no real challenge here to the accepted narratives of history or highfalutin claims to a formal breakthrough in the performing arts. This is the theatre of the Wikipedia generation — but they've digested all those articles more thoroughly than most. It's fast, kinetic but incredibly thoughtful. It requires feats of precision and grace from the cast (as well as director Alexander Devriendt and scenographer Sophie De Somere) to not to get tangled up in their transcontinental web. There's some beautiful subtlety and wit to visual references that whizz by as props are used and reused without spotlight, and although the use of music can be unsubtly manipulative, you can't fault their tastes in fine indie instrumental pop. This is a team that's impressive, inventive and fuelled by the fire they find in each other, and what they have to share with the audience is above all a lot of fun. As it skips through time, A History of Everything creates an interesting conversation between the crusades of the past and those of the present, avoiding putting humanity on the path to infinite progress. And as 200,000 years go by and homo sapiens devolve into primates, an asteroid brings back the dinosaurs, and a fish loses its eyes and mouth to become plankton and then protozoa, you let go of the primacy of humankind. The big bang, when it comes, draws elemental clouds back into blackness. The effect is like standing on a rooftop looking up at the stars: You feel so small. You feel overwhelmed. You feel comforted.
Niels Shoe Meulman describes his art as “traditional handwriting with a metropolitan attitude”. Fusing the art of beautiful writing with the art of getting his (pseudo) name up in an urban environment, Meulman’s unique brand of art makes graffiti more accessible and calligraphy far more cool. Meulman’s career began in Amsterdam in 1979, far before tagged laneways were listed in Lonely Planet as tourist attractions. After spending a few years tagging all over Amsterdam, ruling supreme as a Crime Time King and meeting New York artists like Dondi, Rammellzee, Haze, Quik and Keith Harring, he developed his technique working in graphic design before being partner in an advertising agency-turned-brand for silk scarves. At age 40 he had the artistic version of a mid-life crisis, ditching the corporate world to return to drawing stuff on walls. Meulman’s unique mash-up of inspirations and experience results in artwork that hits you in the face before making you appreciate its traditional beauty. Who said you can’t indulge your inner typography nerd and design a range of luxury silk scarves while retaining a rebellious street edge? Calligraffiti will be touring as follows: Wednesday, 25 January – Monday, 30 January at Kind of Gallery Wednesday, 25 January – Tuesday, 7 February at Kinokuniya Bookstore Live calligraffiti show on Friday, 27 January at May’s Lane Street Art Project
In Wunderkammer, acrobats catapult themselves from one side of the stage to the other in fantastically creative and awe-inspiring ways. Human bodies become skipping ropes, hands become just another pair of feet to walk on, and the physically impossible looks effortless. All at once you feel wooden and inflexible in your theatre chair, realising that, for all your wishful thinking, your flesh is fundamentally unwilling to bend, flex and twist in on itself like a pretzel. The Circa troop are circus 'freaks' in the truest sense, fizzing with effervescent energy and carnivalesque camaraderie, flipping from hula hoop hijinks to high-voltage tumbling to aerial striptease to burlesque routines. They tease and titillate the audience, gleefully flaunting their phenomenal bodies and shared fetish for spike-heeled red patent heels. They will make you believe that they can fly as they flirt with aerial suspension — and hey, why limit themselves to flight alone; why not explore aerodynamics while they're up there? A 'wunderkammer' is, according to Wikipedia, a cabinet of curiosities or a chamber of rarities, a collection of wonders whose categorical boundaries have yet to be defined. This description fits the Circa crew perfectly. While you may feel corporeally frustrated after the show and think 'damn, my neck is sore', it's a staggeringly sexy display of strength and skill that is simply unmissable. https://youtube.com/watch?v=pbY9yvWsmHc
Coming up with a solid indie-pop band name used to just be a case of slapping a "The" in front of a noun, but now some seem so nonsensical they could only have been generated by inserting a keyword into www.bandnamemaker.com. Architecture In Helsinki's band name, despite sounding like a very successful Internet-generated band name (we got "Helsinki Custard" and "Cursed Helsinki And The Monosyllabic Ennui" amongst other disasters), is actually very fitting. These guys have been doing modernist indie-pop since the turn of the century, and they're not trying to reinvent the wheel any more than Finland's unconsciously cool capital itself. Architecture In Helsinki (the band) is unadulterated bubbly electro-pop that still manages to appear fresher than a blast of Finnish winter air. Since their early days producing a sound as endearingly mish-mash as architecture in Helsinki (the city) they've dropped a few horns and acoustics along with a few band members. The result is a soundscape equally kaleidoscopic but far more polished. On 1 September, they'll be supported by New Zealand indie power-pop group Cut Off Your Hands, who's own name implies classic Kiwi sarcasm rather than anything morbid. https://youtube.com/watch?v=IxjcszKEcHE
Surely by now you've been to the White Rabbit gallery. You've stumbled upon its minimalist exterior, tucked away behind the old brewery, and have played for a few hours on its shiny floors. Once inside you've marveled at its collection, which seems to capture a mixture of three elements: playfulness, political dissection and virtuoso craft, and you've had a chat with the engaging and helpful staff. Maybe you've even had a chance to drink a cheeky oolong in the White Rabbit Teahouse. Now if you haven't done any of this, you have the fantastic opportunity to discover the world of contemporary Chinese art when the White Rabbit reopens its doors to launch Beyond the Frame. As the name suggests, White Rabbit's new exhibition aims to shuck all sense of boundary - whether it be the wooden frame of a canvas or the crisis of national borders. Ai Weiwei (polymath visual artist, political activist and man of many millions of sunflower seeds) will have his Oil Spill porcelain work on display, tempting eco action with its lush, hand-crafted pollution. Switching to the two-dimensional are the documentary photos of Lu Nan, whose empathic eye has entered Burmese prison camps to observe the day-to-day existence of these forgotten souls, while the completely playful is found in the absurdly over-sized animals hanging out in Liu Di's urban scenes. The level of inspiration in this space is pretty staggering, so much that you'll probably come away dreaming in Chinese. Image: Daily Shapes (2009) by Dong Yuan
What do Chicago hip-hop horn band Hypnotic Brass Ensemble have in common with the von Trapp family? Well, pretty much nothing actually, besides the fact the band comprises a whole bunch of instrumentally dexterous siblings. Eight of Hypnotic Brass Ensemble's nine members are the sons of Sun Ra Arkestra trumpeter Phil Cohran, and they're mixing up a traditional brass sound with rhythmic hip-hop and big-band jazz. You might think there's only so much you can do with a brass horn, but the boys keep their sound fresh by mixing in influences they've been picking up since they began performing together from as young as three years old. Growing up listening to their father's trumpet jazz, they later flirted with sonic rebellion by hiding under the covers listening to Public Enemy and Ice Cube. And after spending years busking on streets and subways, they did what no nine-piece brass band from the South side of Chicago had done before: work with Mos Def, Gorillaz and Wu Tang's Ghostface Killah. Hypnotic Brass Ensemble are lending their horns to the Avalanche DJs Presents club night on Friday, but Saturday's solo show is where they will really show Sydney that horns and jazz at the low single-digit hours of Sunday don’t necessarily indicate that the night is drawing to a close.
Sydney's been experimenting with all sorts of interesting late-night initiatives to breath fresh energy into the city's night-life. There's talk of late opening shops, museums and bars, as well as actual local residents enjoying themselves and even getting some sleep. The council is still gathering opinions, and while they think, Vivid Sydney — itself a form of late-night nightlife — is having an early turn at sorting out this mix by drawing CBD shops and comestibles into the night-time vibe for their Great Night Out. During Vivid Sydney, the Vivid Rocks Night Markets are opening their stalls Friday and Saturday nights to provide you with music, cheapish food and even some shopping to go with your Vivid light-peeping evening experience. Shops and restaurants across the CBD and the rocks will be offering specials to go with the festival, and after stopping in at some you can see a few extra light sculptures under the QVB dome. All the while 2manydjs will be broadcasting live for triple-J from the Opera House's studios. If creative talk, live music and brain-bending light shows aren't enough for you at Vivid this year, A Great Night Out answers the question of what more you could possibly want.
Syncretism is a synthesis of old and new. It's usually used for new religions borrowing parts of older ones, like Haitian Voodoo, or Japanese Ryobu Shinto. It's also a way to talk about musical movements appropriating from other influences. You know, like every sort music. Musician Gavin Russom combines his own synthesis of technical know-how and personal influences like Brazilian Candomble and bata drumming, into the musical collective The Crystal Ark. The group has staged its shows in high-profile modern art hang-outs like MOMA's PS1, and for Sydney's Vivid they've been commissioned to layer 90 minutes of noise onto the new surrounds of the Opera House Studio. Gavin Russom is the Jonathan Creek of electronic music. While other artists buy his complex instruments, Russom works out the mechanics behind the scenes. He performs as well, most notably on the keyboards of LCD Soundsystem, but also in his own projects like the Black Meteoric Star and the Crystal Ark itself. At this show, you can get to see the contents of his mind rattle out together. And if too much isn't enough, the show continues til 3am at the follow-up Mad Racket party.
Narrative and film are two long-term bed partners that have convinced a lot of the world that their union is unbreakable. But this has not and will not always be the case. Back in 1929, the Russian filmmaker Dziga Vertov did his best to burn that marital bed with his documentary works, of which Man with a Movie Camera is the most famous. Vertov despised narrative in film, saying that it was the corrupting influence of theatre and literature, and presented his films as capturing "life caught unawares". He went so far in his quest to divorce narrative from film that he shot his material without any script or structure, creating a database of footage that his wife later edited into Man with a Movie Camera. Vertov's crusade failed in his lifetime, with most films since growing out of scripts (and developing well-worn story formulas in the process), but his protest did not fall on deaf ears. In 2003, British polymath Michael Nyman was commissioned to compose a score for Vertov's silent masterpiece and it was at this point that an intriguing comparison was made between the two artists. Nyman had for years been shooting his own database of stock footage, collecting a selection of humanity caught "unawares" before the camera. The product of what was to follow is now screening at Carriageworks - NYman with a Movie Camera. Nyman edited his footage to a strict set of rules. He would match the subject matter and special effects shot for shot to Vertov's original. Even the rhythm of editing cuts was taken from the Russian film, giving NYman with a Movie Camera a hyperactive feel in contrast to Nyman's usual style. Even the score — composed by Nyman back in 2003 — was carried across. NYman with a Movie Camera is a great opportunity to see a conversation with the past, especially when you place its predecessor in context with later films, such as the epics Baraka and The Qatsi Trilogy.
Ten years ago director Mike Figgis made Timecode. This experimental film was shot on four digital cameras simultaneously in a series of single ninety-three minute takes. It took him fifteen attempts to get it right. He even experimented with mixing the soundtrack live in front of an audience, drawing attention with sound from one image in the corner to the next, to the next. In Super Night Shot, Anglo-German company Gob Squad have taken this technique to the stage. Super Night Shot's publicity looks like a music-video for the Flaming Lips. Animal costumes and their inhabitants bother the population of ordinary city streets. Over the course of the show the actors film an hour-long story about showbiz types types on four digital cameras, starting an hour before the curtain goes up. The shots are unedited, except for a few brief moments where they are put into sync to be screened on in front of you. They have to get it right every night. Or so they hope. Get a ticket, but if you can't — and you're around the Opera House forecourt around a quarter-to-nine one night of their week-long season — look out for four stray actors desperate for a kiss. Image by Gob Squad.
From the newly formed Animal Farm Collective comes a surreal Orwellian vision. This take on the modern tale of power and exploitation features bears instead of a pig dictatorship, sex rather than politics and humans in the farmyard. More specifically, the set up is this: the head of the food chain is not the humble human, as we typically tend to suspect, but the bear. These meddlesome predators occupy themselves by masterminding psychological traps, in order to test the humans' animal instincts. What follows is sexual and social chaos. This bizarrely seductive vision is the perfect excuse for the heads of Animal Collective, Gavin Webber and Grayson Millwood, to bask in surrealism and to push their unconventional choreography to its limits. Expect the unexpected. Image by Maurice Korbel
Under a crisp blue sky, a black Ferrari careens in circles around a dusty track. It circles, and circles, and circles. If you're bored already, then chances are you won't fancy taking a trip to Sofia Coppola's Somewhere. Shot in long takes, this languorous, intimate and shamelessly introspective film is in many ways created as a companion piece to Lost in Translation; another story that could easily be lumped under the title 'first world whinge,' were it not so beautifully crafted. Ensconced in the plush purgatory of the Chateau Marmont, listless and lost celebrity Johnny Marco (Stephen Dorff) whiles his time away in semi-drunken stupor, his only company being whomever he can lure into his bedroom, and the occasional phone call from his agent. Then one day Johnny wakes up to find his 11-year-old daughter Cleo (Elle Fanning) sitting on his bed, and in her company Johnny starts to notice, and then to question, the gilded cage he has crafted for himself. Somewhere is time-image cinema in the vein of Michelangelo Antonioni. This essentially means: don't expect much to happen, it's all about sinking into the atmosphere that Coppola quietly, expertly conjures. Coppola, with her remarkable cinematographer Harris Savides (Elephant) and accompanied by original music from her partner Thomas Mars of Phoenix, together have crafted a piece of contemplation as cinema. It won't work for everybody, particularly those who can't quite dig up some empathy for a character tantamount to a poor little rich boy. But here Coppola is both aware and unapologetic — the jets, the glamorous hotel suites, the press junkets — it's her world and she's recreating it intricately and self-reflexively. Dorff benefits from similarly reflexive casting, where his own faded celebrity almost becomes a cautionary tale for Johnny. Drunk, bewildered, and eventually yearning, Dorff brings Johnny to life with compassion and pathos. He is however routinely upstaged by the glorious Elle Fanning, whose fresh-faced performance delights, and who manages to hit her emotional mark with much more conviction than her costar. But their chemistry is wonderfully understated and in a testament to Coppola's assured direction. For all its restraint, slice-of-life naturalism and superb soundtrack, Somewhere is a film and a mood that you can sink into like a deep, comfy sofa. This languid ambiance is threatened by the film's comparatively overstated ending, for in crafting the conclusion to the opening metaphor, Coppola unfortunately goes for the glaringly obvious. It feels like a disappointing misstep, but even this is not quite enough to spoil the reverie. *Advance screenings at select cinemas on Christmas day https://youtube.com/watch?v=uVQtL8GQPFA
News flash, Bush and Co did have it wrong, the internet and digital photography are the real axis of evil in this crazy 21st century existence of ours. Somehow I don't think many people would disagree with either of those statements (for the record I am no Taliban/Hussein sympathiser) but I will argue my case just in case. As soon as I walked in the door of the Blender Gallery's current Greatest Hits exhibition I was surrounded by intimate portraits — impossibly private moments shared between lucky photographers and some of the worlds most acclaimed musicians. The Beatles, the Doors, Queen, Hendrix, Jagger, Dylan, Joplin, the various incarnations of Bowie and many more. The scenarios vary from Woodstock to a plane cockpit to a Frisco park to a dark room where an orange haired Bowie glares at you through a mirror while his back is turned. Many were shot in studios and others captured iconic moments on and back stage. It is a catalogue of the bad old days with a rock overtone, nothing blatantly lewd although the smirk of Keith Richards could hardly be described as anything but. So what's the problem you ask? Life is saturated with photos, so much so that it took me a minute to adjust and realise that I was looking at some amazing moments in history, not the latest inane saturday night Facebook photo album or the omnipresent blogs full of whimsical gibberish and the borrowed images that accompany them. The exhibits are not cheap, perhaps a statement in order to distinguish themselves from the dime a dozen album that is the internet, perhaps not. But if you appreciate any of the aforementioned artists then you will definitely appreciate this.
The Laurels and Domeyko/Gonzalez must surely be two of the standout acts of the musical moment. Both bringing their own unique and terribly clever spin on traditional sounds. Together with ethereal, brooding Sydney favourites, Dark Bells, this is one quality triple bill you most certainly do not want to miss. The Laurels are a four-piece Sydney band of the psychedelic/shoegaze persuasion whose collection of guitar pedals — used to create the sweeping effects and big, richly textured guitar sounds they’re famous for — may border on a hoarding problem. Likened to My Bloody Valentine and the Jesus and Mary Chain, The Laurels' Piers Cornelius, Luke O’Farrell (both vocals/guitar), Conor Hannan (bass) and Kate Wilson (drums) have been earning massive media acclaim and gathering a harem of devoted fans since they formed in 2006. Domeyko/Gonzalez are innovative purveyors of live electronics in possession of (probably) illegal amounts of musical talent. Multi-instrumentalists James Domeyko and Jaie Gonzalez create beautifully layered and looped electronica using a huge range of synthesthised and instrumental sounds from keyboards, guitars, drums, and even violins and glockenspiels. Signed to Sydney label Death Strobe Records, they've released an inspired EP The Circle Trilogy to glowing reviews, and have been blowing minds with their engaging live sets at some of Sydney's top venues. Those in the know will be scooting down to Goodgod to catch these guys live with The Laurels and Dark Bells, and for all who have yet to have the pleasure, do yourselves a massive favour and begin your inevitable fan-dom now. Image: The Laurels
Lots of interesting things are going on in Parramatta right now. The Sydney Festival is continuing to inch westwards, Parramatta Council is looking to open up empty spaces along Renew Newcastle lines. And then there's ICE. Parramatta's Information and Cultural Exchange (ICE) works to tell the stories of western Sydney, especially its youth and new migrants. Developing the communities culture for your entertainment and their edification, it has its fingers in a lot of pies. Soon to be backing the hip-hop collaboration East London West Sydney with the UK's Jonzi D at Carriageworks for the Sydney Festival, this week it's launching the results of a different collaboration — the product of months of work with local artists: the RISE Project. RISE has taken young people from central and western Sydney and equipped them with digital and physical skills to get their tales across to the wider world — with mentors Vuli Mkwananzi of True Vibenation, MC Trey of Foreign Heights and Mirrah. The results of their work will be launched in ICE's newly refurbished and renewed Switch Digital Arts Centre, with live acts on the night. RISE launches Thursday evening, but RSVP by Monday the 13th via info@ice.org.au or on 9897 5744 to avoid missing out. Image by geishaboy500.
Sales are meant to start after Christmas. Which is well and good if you give presents on Epiphany (a.k.a. Twelfth Night), and hoping nobody cottons on thank you very much. But a trio of Sydney designers aren't content to stick to tradition, and insist on giving you your Boxing Day joy a little early. This collection of designers have put a collection of their collections on sale at the basement at District 01 to catch your eyes and tempt your wallet. The Xmas Store is a pop-up shop featuring all three designers for four short days on the edge of Darlinghurst. The androgynously inclined Frederich Gray will be stocked as well as the stars of this year's 101 Dalmatians State Theatre photo-shoot, Romance Was Born. Their stark lines and plush excesses will be out alongside Mel Keir's deftly cut Jemma Jube swimwear. You can rummage around in these designer's virtual stores, but for a few days you can get up-close and personal for the full, tactile experience.
Though it's true that nothing is really 'like' anything else, Eliza Doolittle gets compared to Lily Allen and Amy Winehouse an awful lot. Doolittle doesn't like it. And, though they sometimes share a producer, neither does Allen. In fact, Doolittle is probably closer to Norah Jones — a strong, clear new voice suddenly cutting its way out across the heavily engineered landscape of pop. Her song Pack Up samples a version of Pack Up Your Troubles and catchy Skinny Genes is a sweet, gentle lullaby about getting it on. Doolittle writes simple-sounding fifties tunes, and she tops the British charts while doing it. Though she's shown she can swear, her lyrics are usually so clean that she has her backup blokes whistle to cover up the rude bits, even while the subject matter of her songs is anything but clean. Tuesday night Eliza Doolittle will be headlining at the Oxford Art Factory, supported by Lanie Lane, who croons Andrews Sisters-style ukelele songs on her huge blues guitar, Betty. Doolittle's star is rising. Her next visit to Sydney probably won't be so low key, but if you're quick enough this week, you can say you heard her first. https://youtube.com/watch?v=qxqtnWwLxYI
The Western is brought back to exhilarating life by debut feature filmmaker Patrick Hughes. Lifting a few pages from the Coen Bros' No Country for Old Men, as well as a wink to Sergio Leone, Hughes has executed a stylish modern Western, which doles out a dose of fun alongside all the bloodshed. When police officer Shane Cooper (True Blood's Ryan Kwanten) relocates with his pregnant wife Alice (Clare van der Boom) to the small town of Red Hill for some quiet country life, well, this is a Western, so we all know that's not going to happen. Indeed on his very first shift, Shane barely gets through copping flack from is new boss Old Bill (Steve Bisley), before the proverbial scheisse hits the ceiling fan and Shane gets to learn country law the hard way. The daring jailbreak of erstwhile Red Hill resident Jimmy Conway (Tommy Lewis) has the entire town spooked, and for good reason; Conway's out for blood and there's seemingly no stopping him. As the writer, producer, director and editor, you've got to be impressed by Hughes' tenacity (and versatility!) in bringing this story to the screen. His revisioning of generic conventions for the modern day are handled with a tongue-in-cheek humour that sees Shane forced to ride, awkwardly, out on horseback. So too is Hughes unafraid to play up to the Western, with wonderfully hammy hero shots of Conway's brutal antics. For the most part the performances also manage to walk this line, with Bisley at his grisly best, Kwanten proving himself an impressive lead and the wryly-reflexive casting of Lewis harking back to The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith. Unfortunately, a few confounding edits, a slight inconsistency in tone, and a frankly ridiculous 'mysterious beast' subplot do manage to distract from Red Hill's manifold strengths. It may be enough to pull you out of the film, but then again, at 96 minutes, Hughes is careful not to overstay his welcome. Red Hill might be a bit of a mixed bag, but as a striking introduction to Patrick Hughes and a big screen Ryan Kwanten, it's certainly an exciting new frontier for Australian cinema. https://youtube.com/watch?v=9vafKLgdg94
Film fans, it's time to get up in arms. Last year celebrated Iranian film director Jafar Panahi (The White Balloon, The Circle) and fellow filmmaker Mohammad Rasoulof, who were sentenced to six-years in jail for making films that threatened the Iranian regime, and who have been banned for a further twenty years from leaving Iran, making films or talking to the press. This unconscionable imprisonment has been condemned by Hollywood heavyweights such as Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, Sean Penn, Robert Redford, Oliver Stone, Terrence Malick and the Coen Brothers, with Paul Haggis heading up an online petition via Amnesty International. Now the Australian film community is doing their bit, with Sydney, Adelaide and Melbourne film festivals joining forces for the first time to host fundraising screenings of Panahi's remarkable football dramatic comedy Offside. Audaciously shot during Iran's 2005 World Cup qualifying match against Bahrain, Offside follows various women as they dress as men in an attempt to circumvent their enforced exclusion from the stadium. Charming, funny and intelligent, Offside is the perfect introduction to Panahi's filmography; the future of which we all need to fight for.
Bradford Cox is a taut wire of a man. His vocal quality may have softened very slightly over the past ten years of his leading Deerhunter, but the dangerous tension is certainly still present. Bursting out of Atlanta, Georgia, Deerhunter have struck reverbing chords with lovers and haters alike. Their sound is exploratory, taking dark ambience and giving it a jolting rock spine that is breaching maturity after six albums. The first time they officially came to our shores was in 2009, setting bones a-rattling in anticipation for their return this year. Deerhunter is in Sydney for a flash, playing at the Laneway Festival and this, their only sideshow at the Metro theatre. Previous Deerhunter gigs have shown frontman Cox's skeletal frame thrashing in fake blood and sundresses, so it is highly anticipated that their Sydney outing will be worth cramming into. https://youtube.com/watch?v=G5RzpPrOd-4
De La Soul. Tricky. Caribou. Kool & the Gang. Lamb. Kate Nash. Toro Y Moi. Tunng. Four Tet. You Am I. How do you describe a festival when the lineup speaks for itself? I'll give it a go anyway. Playground Weekender is a four day extravaganza in arguably the most gorgeous festival location near Sydney, Del Rio's Riverside Resort on the Hawkesbury. We're talking lush green bush land, a sparkly river and all the trimmings of a 'Riverside Resort' - nine hole golf courses, tennis courts, riverside chalets and kangaroos that serve you cocktails. Add yoga, the Club Tropicana (!) swimming pool, cabaret, cinema, beauty salon and a 24 hour general store... A moment please, while I pick my jaw up off the floor.
The last of the summer festivals are heading this way. Laneway, Playground Weekender, and, of course, Good Vibrations. Good Vibes has been counting some of the best, brightest and most exciting Aussie and international acts on its stages since it began. This year's lineup has a particularly dance-happy good feeling to it with the likes of Kelis, Faithless and Rusko. Did we also mention Phoenix, The Ting Tings, Miike Snow and Friendly Fires? Or Erykah Badu, Fat Freddy's Drop and Mike Posner? The lineup just continues to get better and better. If you're feeling a bit flush since your first pay after Christmas, why don't you splurge on a VIP ticket as well? While the rest of the gang are getting sweaty in the middle of the crowd, you can sit drinking cocktails, catching up with friends and enjoying that most elusive of festival commodities, a VIP toilet. Wandering around the green surrounds of Centennial Parklands as your favourite dance anthem is being pumped through those amazing festival, body thumping speakers, you'll appreciate the beauty that is a summer music festival - the sights, sounds and smells of hundreds of slippery bodies gyrating and throwing their arms in the air. Ah summer in Sydney. We do it so well. https://youtube.com/watch?v=RulP4OXxFbM
The Next Three Days is a film you could easily damn with faint praise. Written and directed by Paul Haggis (Crash, In the Valley of Elah) and staring ‘our own’ Russell Crowe, this remake of the French film Pour Elle is a good story well told: solid, meticulously crafted, with that similar, slightly old-fashioned feeling you got from watching a film like Salt. The result is a thoroughly enjoyable thriller, but one that barely lingers in your memory once you've left the cinema. Crowe plays John Brennan, a college professor with a sizable middle age spread, happily married to Lara (Elizabeth Banks) and father of an adorable son Luke (Ty Simpkins). This picture-postcard familial contentment is obliterated when Lara is arrested then found guilty of murder — where her innocence casts an impressive question mark over the film. Three years down the track, with all appeals denied, John has radicalised into a desperate man, determined to instigate Lara’s prison break. A blatant, if handy scene articulates this transformation as John lectures his class on Don Quixote. Unfortunately Haggis doesn’t so much mine this vein as lean on the allusion and allow it to do all the thematic heavy lifting. But then again, the plan that unfolds certainly has its heart-in-your-mouth moments, excluding a distracting cameo from Liam Neeson that is. Crowe carries The Next Three Days like a sturdy packhorse. He can do downtrodden but steely very well, and moreover he’s believable as an everyman following his nose, and using dubious YouTube tutorials to learn the tricks of the trade necessary to enact his daring jailbreak. After all, this isn’t Jason Bourne we’re talking about. Banks gets convincingly jail ugly and emotionally distraught, while Olivia Wilde and Brian Dennehy provide worthy if underwritten mirrors of John’s increasing dislocation from the real world. No one can fault the precision of this film (there’s that faint praise again), but for all the life-or-death stakes, The Next Three Days seems to lack some spirit. Perhaps Haggis and Crowe are taking the material a tad too seriously, or perhaps there really isn’t anything wrong with a good story well told.
Ballet taught us that the human body can be sculpted into an organic machine. And for a while that was enough, especially when it was coupled with garish sets and costumes (yes, yes, Ballet Russes) and men with questionable cheekbones and crotch mesas. But something new came onto the scene, something that seduced the meat model of almost perfection: silicon technology. Taking a look at Wayne McGregor's Sydney Festival piece, Entity, reveals an ensemble that is not so much a collection of individual dancers as it appears to be one form, of flesh and data combined. McGregor's dancers appear to move to mathematical algorithms, giving the impression that their performance is architectural rather than psychological. The result is a mesmerising panorama of more-than-humans, surrounded by the nurturing structures of mechanical screens that seem to dance alongside their living cohort. A commissioned electronic score by Jon Hopkins is also definitely worth the ticket price alone, with his ability to inject digital euphoria into your marrow. No wonder the dancer-machines move so beautifully here. Image by Ravi Deepres
For most Sydneysiders (the ones born here at least), a weekend trip to Newcastle is not at the top of their to-do list. For the weekend upcoming though, I strongly recommend that changes. The reason: Summer Vibes at The Croatian Club. For the unacquainted, The Croatian Club is an actual Croatian bowling club in the semi-industrial Newie suburb of Wickham. It has only one permanent employee, a suitably taciturn bartender called Parvo, and most nights of the week you will find only a handful of grumbling old men from the mother country there. Sounds like a swell joint, right? Well, there’s also an assortment of summery outdoor activities, a community veggie garden, a wood fire pizza oven and this Sunday, the Summer Vibes festival. Starting from 11am, you can chill on the bowling green with a beer, play bocce or giant chess, and take advantage of really cheap (and delicious) pizzas. Oh, and then there’s the bands, a stunning line-up featuring Thee Oh Sees (USA), Straight Arrows, Circle Pit, Absolute Boys, Kirin J Calinan and several handfuls of excellent others. If you still need reasons to make the trip, try this one: it will only cost you $30 to get in. For an event that is guaranteed to contain no Southern Cross tattoos or Australian flags, this is what you might call a 'ripper deal'.
There are a lot of people who don't like being called up on stage when someone needs a volunteer. These are the people who never enjoy the limelight. They never wanted their fifteen minutes. These are the boring and unfortunate souls who will never see their name in lights. Unlike the rest of us, who have registered to literally have their name in lights as part of the Sydney Festival exhibition by artist John Baldessari. This American conceptual artist has put together a production in which you are the main attraction. Every fifteen seconds, every 24 hours over the majority of the festival, those attention seeking or perhaps just art loving kids who have registered will be able to see their name pop up in lights on the side of the Australian Museum. It's not too late to register, and it's free to do so. Participants will receive an email letting them know the time their name will come up. So embrace fame, and let hundreds of glittering light globes make your name shine across Sydney.
Synthetic electro cyborg pseudo-Japanese prunge (punk/grunge) rockers. These are just a few of the plethora of descriptors used in an attempt to verbally capture dynamic Sydney band Made in Japan. And their live shows? Rollicking! They've been likened to Bloc Party and My Bloody Valentine if you need a reference point, but don't try and pigeon-hole them — they've also indulged in the occasional cross-genre collaboration with hip-hop acts Horrorshow and Spit Syndicate, albeit more in the spirit of friendship and open-mindedness than any such leaning in their own sound. Formed in 2008, vocalist/drummer James and guitarists Jono and Tom recorded an EP in 2009. They have since played with the likes of Sparkadia, Deep Sea Arcade and Blue Juice to name a few, and their much anticipated debut album is about to explode onto the music scene as we speak. So be warned, these guys are ridiculously talented and about to kick off into the stratosphere of musical renown, so here is your chance to catch them live and free during their three-week residency at OAF before you find yourself scrambling for tickets to their gigs on ebay or haggling with a scalper outside your favourite music festival.
The it. Collective is an artistic conglomerate bringing together the best of a diverse range of creative genres to produce works of relevance for consumers of street culture with an eye for the ironic. The ABSOLUT Stairwell Gallery presents The it. Collective's first campaign, Trashin' Fashion, at the Sugarmill. Tacky fashion with haute couture sensibilities is the vibe. Showings include elaborate nail art by 2010 Nail Art Awards star Olga Menshikova, false nails as costume jewellery by Peter Jones, photographs by Alex Weltlinger and Steven Mileski, 'trash bag' totes printed with trash-fashion images by graphic artist Laura Ives, and macrame masterpieces by Yin Chuah of jewellery label Yinjoux. Tunes by the Shooters Party will provide the soundtrack to this visually scintillating night, while live nail art will be delivered by Menshikova throughout the evening. Next up for The it. Collective: Backyard Outcast — a fashion film produced in their own backyard, and I hear it features a banana tree, a mirror ball and a coffin no less. What will these crazy kids think of next?
"Be the change you want to be in the world" is the driving philosophy behind Billabong's charitable division Design for Humanity. These guys are in the business of making a real contribution to humanitarian causes and they're bringing us along with them. Billabong's second annual Design for Humanity benefit is a rare blend of giving and receiving — an extravaganza of music, art and fashion where 100% of the proceeds are donated in support of the Pakistan Flood Children's Appeal. The aim of these events is to promote awareness of and raise funds to support humanitarian and environmental causes whilst celebrating the capacity we all have to make a real and lasting difference where it matters most. Doing it for the kids at Oxford Art Factory this year are The Vines, Operator Please, Flight Facilities, PhDJ from Purple Sneakers, Sosueme DJs and MUM DJs. For your viewing pleasure there'll be art installations by the likes of Claudio Kirac, and a runway showing of Billabong bikinis styled in conjunction with designer Lil Boyd.
Concert for the Cure has joined forces with Shapiro Gallery to bring you Support, an exhibition of bras as re-created by Australian artists and designers. It's recorded that one in eight Australian women are diagnosed with breast cancer by the time they're 85 and that the incidence is increasing. So with the help of artists like Akira Akira, Ben Frost, and Tamara Dean, as well as designers like Ksubi, Akira Isogawa and Bec & Bridge — they're hoping to generate fresh discourse about breast cancer and raise money for further research into tumour dormancy. All works will go under the hammer in a silent auction, and all proceeds will go towards breast cancer research.
Everyone loves a good excuse to make art. And could there be a better one than saving your favourite local ARI? Firstdraft are holding their annual 'fun-draiser' next Saturday and the title, So you think you can draw...(or make other stuff), gives you a clue to the sort of fun you might be in for. A whole slab of local emerging artists have put pencil, pen and no doubt other things to paper for the cause. That said, you don't have to make art to turn up. All you need is a gold coin to get in — which will get you some tunes courtesy of Dara Gill and Smokey La Beef, performances from Pig Island and others, and a peek at a whole lot of pieces. Still, it wouldn't hurt to bring along a bit of spare dosh. There's a sausage sizzle, which is always good. Plus, the art is cheap. We're talking $50 for A4 and $100 for A3: that spells bargain. It's the perfect chance to add a little cred to your mantelpiece (and hide the peeling paint from your landlord).
Ever imagine what it might be like to be caught in a WWII air raid? Sure, it’d be scary as hell but imagine the parties you could have in the underground drinking dens and cabaret bars. Hidden from the warning sirens and surrounded by gorgeous ladies and men in uniform, you'd celebrate like there was no tomorrow. Well dream no more because the Lost Boys are back with another of their infamous secret parties — Lost in the Blitz. The idea is that the Boys host the whole party and all you have to do is simply swing on up and have all the fun. But the best bit is that we can't tell you where it is. And only those with a costume are allowed in to jive along to the Miami Horror djs, Dj Simo, Dan Single and more. But costumes are the least of your worries — fellas, you know a man in uniform makes a girl swoon and ladies, this is your chance to doll up like Betty Paige at a Ball. Getting Lost has never been such a blast.
The inaugural Woollahra Festival this weekend plans to divide itself into two parts for your entertainment. Siteworx will feed the performance parts of your brain on stages around Queen Street, while a program of talks will feed your ears, eyes and urge you to pipe up with a question. Siteworx is curated by ex-Griffin artistic director Ros Horin, and promises bands, choirs and an orchestra, as well as clowning, capoeira, comedy and tango. Roaming performers on Queen Street complete the line-up. The talk* program starts Friday night with a Q&A-style forum on the festival theme of community, with a dedication to detail that includes a real, live Tony Jones as host. On Saturday, Dee Nolan will talk about mixing the pilgrim trail through Spain with some really good food, while David Malouf covers his literary career. You can also get some advice on international affairs from a panel including prolific tweeter, ABC PM host Mark Colvin. On Sunday have breakfast with a Slow food founder, or hear Delia Falconer talk about her powerfully ambivalent Sydney. Either of the two strands would be enough to fill any regular festival. With both, you shouldn’t find a quiet minute on Queen Street. *all talks require a reservation
The work of Kate Champion and Force Majeure is brave in many ways. Incorporating disparate forms of dance and a considered use of words and visuals, they are able to create something that contains distinctive elements and yet is more than the sum of its parts. Their work is contemporary, relevant and accessible; casual in its presentation but distinct in its content and form. Many will remember The Age I'm In, their hugely successful 2008 work which featured at that year's Sydney Festival. Not In A Million Years looks to both consolidate these gains and extend the company further. One way of doing this is Force Majeure's 'behind the scenes' blog, which has served to document the rehearsal process and provides the opportunity to 'ask questions along the way'. This rare level of transparency is telling: Champion and her company are willing to be queried, challenged and considered. And work like this certainly deserves to be. Image: courtesy of Force Majeure and Carriageworks
Everyone knows there are secret Sydneys. Not just waterfront apartments and gothic mansions of state, but quieter faces — the back rooms, offices, tunnels and storehouses that make the city function, or once did. Stone, glass, brick, old, new — scattered, strange buildings around the city that make you think. Sydney Open throws back the veil for a weekend, letting Sydneysiders peek behind the scenes. There are focus tours of individual properties over the whole weekend, while on Sunday there is a city-wide wander – from Pyrmont in the west, east to Macquarie Street, south as far as Broadway and north to the flat expanse of Barangaroo. Have a look at sandstone wonders — the 1920 flatiron-style Radisson Plaza Hotel Sydney, or the ornate, colonial faux-italiante Department of Education and Chief Secretary’s Buildings. Radio 2SER's newish studios are open, as is the environmentally-friendly workplace6 — which also happens to house Google's Australian headquarters. The stunningly staircased National Mutual Building, antenna-capped AWA Building and some looming Martin Place banks round out the twentieth-century offerings. There's a look at the site-to-be of Sydney's Central Park and the mysterious Judge's House behind the George Street Cinemas. So get the map, get nosy and get a look behind the curtain. Image by Jason7825.
Former Chocolate Factory resident Mark Gerada's new exhibition at Gaffa has two themes. One is the almost post-natal sadness that descends on you after you stage an exhibition. The other is an unreal tint of blue he saw while swimming in a sea-cave in the island of Gozo, off his ancestral Malta. Malta itself has layers of history, settled one over the other like sheathes of glass. In Post Exhibition Blues, Mark Geraba uses his own overlapping shades to describe the ethereal glow of both these blues. Seeing bones in them at first is not uncommon. But they are not meant to be bones. There is light. Light of all kinds, pushing and pulsing and overlapping with defined edges and hard glass-like form. A gallery of candle shapes. Eyes. Stars. Blue waveforms. What seems to be a lithe blue figure is a current of water. A sub-antarctic iceberg stands for nothingness. And what at first were hooded monks are metaphors for movement and more intimate things. Almost at the end, you meet the cave with some little specks of light leading to its rocky mouth. The three big canvasses on the far wall are the disappointing moment. All through the exhibition, these wonderful paintings have begged to be huge. But the three large canvases are an anti-climax — not triumphant moments, just ice-blue lights and twin foci. In the Exhibition's notes, Gerada claims the abstract influence of Malevich. But the paintings bring the work of Malevich’s rival Kandisky equally to mind. Although it could have done with more of Kandinsky’s oversize scale, Gerada seems to have some of the same sense of warmth — despite the coolness of the mood, and his work’s calm watery stillness. Image by Mark Gerada.
It's a tale we've heard a thousand times. Not the plot itself, I mean the 'fresh, relevant interpretation' line that theatres throw in to justify the presence of a classic in their midst. In this case, though, the line seems to have a bit of weight to it. Take one leader: once the revolutionary hero, now obsessed with more tangible gains. His greed breeds discontent, once loyal men become rebellious and therefore corruption, cunning and conspiracies are rife. The situation is a power keg and all it takes is a single spark to set it off. Sounds eerily familiar, no? Add to the mix the supernatural interventions that Shakespeare has invested his play with, and the result is a complex delve into contemporary politics that would put most journalists to shame. Julius Caesar looks to be both a savvy political query and an admirable theatrical achievement in its own right — certainly not something to be sniffed at. Image: courtesy of New Theatre
They are, perhaps, not three words that you would ever expect to meet in the same sentence. 'Symphony' and 'orchestra', sure - but 'YouTube'? Who knew that the power of the internet could be used for good, not evil? Defying expectations, YouTube have, literally, assembled a symphony orchestra. Thousands of musicians have auditioned online, with winners from all over the world performing via the same technology. For the Grand Finale in Sydney, images will be projected onto the Opera House to bring the performance together in a dramatically visual way. This Tuesday event will unveil some of these international winners in their first performance, alongside Australian musicians William Barton, the didjeridu legend, and the innovative Synergy Percussion. The program includes no less than seven exceptional contemporary pieces. Highlights include Edgard Varèse's Ionisation, a groundbreaking exploration of percussive sounds, and Australian Nigel Westlake's Omphalo Centric Lecture, which is his widely performed opus one. Image: William Barton, courtesy of Sydney Opera House
Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. Beauty is determined completely from perspective, as is meaning much of the time. To some, belladonna might be a gorgeous Italian catchphrase bandied about beautiful women. To others, it's a deadly poisonous plant, used to eliminate the odd significant personage from history here and there. When it comes to artist Beth Josey, her work always demonstrates this exceptional paradox: death lying behind a beautiful facade. A scientist by day and artist by night, Josey's work reflects her dual life — the intricacies and detail of a scientific study combined with the beauty and imagination in the eye of an artist. In this, her new solo exhibition, art lovers will see a collection of lino prints and related paintings, looking at the irony of the deadly beauty in nature. Also opening at Hardware Gallery is Castellum, a solo exhibition by artist Andrew Ensor. Drawing inspiration from French Chateaus and Japanese castles, this series examines the power and detail in architectural creations and the effect that the passage of time has on their stability and importance. Look no further for Sydney's next up and coming artists, they're right here. Image: Beth Josey
Regarded by many as the greatest ballet company of the early 20th Century, the Ballets Russes was directed by controversial genius Sergei Diaghilev who challenged and titillated audiences with his innovative productions between 1909 and 1939. Diaghilev literally wowed audiences with his envelop-pushing parade of composers, choreographers, dancers, set and costume designers by challenging the artistic and sometimes even moral sensibilities of the day. Let's just say one premier performance literally ended in a riot. Cool. The extravagant costumes donned by the dancers were a large part of what made these productions so unforgettable, and no small wonder when the likes of Pablo Picasso and Henri Matisse took turns at the costume-design helm. Fast-forward to present time and as we celebrate the centenary of this renegade dance company the National Gallery of Australia is exhibiting 140 costumes and accessories from 34 productions, many of which haven't been seen by human eyes since they exploded onto the stages of Europe worn by some of the most famous dancers in the history of dance. You don't need to know anything about ballet to appreciate the magic in these wearable pieces of art and the photographs, films, music and drawings that round out this intriguing exhibition so go and soak up the controversy and the history at the National Gallery.
What brings together Wang Lei's paper dresses, Shi Jindian's sculpted wire, He An's glowing signs and an apartment doorway made from only fabric, sponge and thread by artist Gao Rong? Decade of the Rabbit, the current exhibition at Sydney's White Rabbit Gallery. The name, Decade of the White Rabbit, has a few auspicious associations. 2011 is the year of the rabbit and ten years ago the White Rabbit Collection was established by Ken and Judith Nielson. The collection began with only a few works; now it claims more than 160 Chinese artists. Thirty artists are represented in the current collection show and their artistic practices are as varied as painting, sculpture, installation, model-making, and the incredible fusion of all these things as seen in Yuan Jia's quirky 2010 wooden artwork, Runaway Table and His Duck. Image: He An, What Makes Me Understand What I Know, 2009.
Forget the Golden Age of Hollywood, film-making is stronger than ever these days. Thanks to affordable camera equipment and instantaneous distribution via the internet, the medium of film is accessible to almost everyone. This means that voices once marginalised or censored have an opportunity to be recorded for broadcast. This is where Stuff! comes onto the scene. Seven film-makers from Greater Western Sydney were selected and trained over a year with help from acclaimed screen writer and editor Billy Marshall Stoneking and director and writer Amin Palangi. Now seven films are ready to launch and you're invited to check them out in the Lennox Theatre at Parramatta Riverside. These shorts are tight. Don't expect to see the usual "three minute with a punchline" fare. These are stories sourced from the endless inspiration of family, and each film-maker paints a unique image of their character's place in a world of tensions and conflicting allegiances. Stuff! is on for one night only, so keep Thursday clear and go to support the next wave of quality Australian film-making.
Though there are few immune to the charms of one Torrance Shipman, the bouncy, navel-bearing cheerleader in Bring It On, or Lux Lisbon, the ethereal eldest sister in Sofia Coppola’s The Virgin Suicides, Kirsten Dunst has never really screamed Oscar-contender. But as a severely depressed, newly wed bride in the forthcoming Melancholia, our beloved indie It girl is seeing the type of hype ordinarily saved for the Blanchetts and Clooneys of the acting world. And let us tell you, the hype is bang-on. Thanks to director Lars Von Trier, the brilliant mind behind Dogville and Antichrist, Dunst has been offered the mother-effing crown jewels in dream roles. As the deeply complex Justine, who we first meet on her wedding day to Alexander Skarsgard’s stupidly oblivious yet entirely devoted Michael, Dunst shines in her portrayal of a woman crippled by her illness. Although the wedding is as lavish as they come, organised by her wealthy sister Claire (played by the also-impressive Charlotte Gainsbourg) and set in a Swedish mansion, Justine is so depressed that she escapes from the party repetitively, forcing her family to hunt her down for most of the night. To add insult, their hippy mum, played by Charlotte Rampling, is bitterly condemning Justine and Michael’s marriage to any guest who listens, all the while a rogue planet named Melancholia is set to collide with Earth, smashing it to smithereens in a matter of days. So things are kind of bat-shit tense from the get-go. It’s a testament to Dunst’s acting ability, which has rarely been pushed to such levels in the past, that we feel any compassion for our protagonist. She taunts Claire with her darkness, refusing to reassure her sister that Earth and hence Claire’s happy existence will survive Melancholia’s impact. She shows no appreciation for Claire’s mothering, which stretches so far as to drag Justine into the shower of a morning. Dunst is obviously spectacularly broken yet her heart-breaking vulnerability and helplessness is as clear as day. More fascinatingly, as a depressive, she is remarkably at peace during Melancholia’s suspenseful home stretch. It’s an inspired, thoroughly educated performance. Which of course comes down to Von Trier himself. A man with a vision like few others, Dunst is just one of the many well-greased machines he’s employed to help bring this sumptuous masterpiece together. Each frame as beautiful as the next and each looking as though they belong signed and hung on a wall, Melancholia is a very special piece of cinema. And don’t be fooled into thinking it will only impress art house types. Its originality, not to mention raw beauty won’t be mirrored with ease.
The title of this final instalment in Stieg Larson's bestselling Millennium trilogy might promise a lot of sting, but the film delivers woefully little. Director Daniel Alfredson (The Girl Who Played with Fire) gives about as much energy as the hobbling geriatrics that serve as Lisbeth Salander's toothless antagonists this time around. In fact its seems as if the production has taken a bullet to the brain just like their heroine, who spends most of the film's torturously long 142 minutes spent prone in a hospital bed. By all accounts, Larson's third tome is a hefty, sprawling tale, and evidently it proved too much for Alfredson and his screenwriter Ulf Ryberg, for the result is a stodgy, terribly uncinematic affair. But shortcomings be damned; we're all far too invested in this saga, and damnit, unconscious or not, Noomi Rapace is too captivating to miss on screen. As the titular shit-stirrer, Salander opens the film as a bloody pulp being whisked to hospital after her run in with daddy dearest Zalachenko (Georgi Staykov) and her hulking half-brother Niedermann (Mikael Spreitz). A kindly and eventually rather smitten surgeon (Aksel Morisse) saves Lisbeth's life and shields her from the police during her convalescence. Meanwhile the dogged journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Michael Nyqvist) rallies his troops at Millennium to create an issue focussed solely on clearing Lisbeth's sullied name. This investigation sets Blomkvist on the case of the aforementioned old men, who seem to need Lisbeth dead in order to protect their political skeletons. Then there's the dangerously gormless Niedermann still on the loose of course a criminal trial to contend with. With threats abounding, you would think tensions would be running stratospherically high, but somehow these stakes don't manage to translate to the audience. Only Lisbeth's spiky, skin-tight outfit stirs any emotion in the clunky courtroom scenes, while Blomkvists' tepid run in with his would be assassins results in a barely causes a flutter. Ultimately an overstuffed plot and a striking heroine relegated to the sidelines sucks too much oxygen from the film, and an incredibly trite ending proves to be the final nail in the coffin of a disappointingly lacklustre finale. But all is not lost; from now on it's time to look to the American remake, where David Fincher can surely resuscitate the series, and return Lisbeth to her enchantingly gothic glory. https://youtube.com/watch?v=vVGbPFdU96A
Is it too big a call to say the Mardi Gras Parade is the Sydney event of a calendar year? It is certainly one of the biggest, not just in scale, but also in affect. What an astounding, glorious thing that once a year, Sydneysiders gather together to march and dance and party on in celebration of being queer. After 33 years, even if it's not Sydney's defining cultural event, Mardi Gras Parade is an immutable part of our city's folklore. For 2011, the focus of the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras as a whole is on equality in marriage. Creative Director Ignatius Jones, also responsible for the Sydney Olympics Ceremonies, 2010 Winter Olympics Ceremonies and the 2010 World Expo Shanghai, has encouraged parade participants to 'Say Something!' This will doubtless play out in numerous colourful and outrageous ways. On the night, proceedings will be broadcast live on Arena, but we recommend you get amongst it in the flesh. Proudly.
You probably already know about TED. Influential invitees pay to listen, question and chat to interesting speakers from science, theoretical physics, technology, the humanities ... anything. If it has a cutting edge, people talk about it at TED. The talks are engaging and addictive. In 2006, TED began to open up its conferences to outsiders. First making streamed and podcast videos available of the main California event, then acting as a bright, forward thinking umbrella for satellite TEDx conferences around the world. TEDx Sydney itself got going last year. In the small hours of the morning, TEDx Sydney is screening the second day of the main California conference live at TED live for free in the Bondi Pavillion Theatre. Speakers include Supersize Me's Morgan Spurlock, often richest person in the world Bill Gates and director of Frida and a new effects-heavy version of the Tempest, Julie Taymor. Also speaking are Sydney local and big historian David Christian and Nigerian development worker Amina Az-Zubair. And in the middle of it all we are promised a surprise guest. So if you can do your deep thinking at three in the morning — or wish you could — watching TED by the beach is the place to be. Image by Los Cardinalos.
