Modern Tragedy

I haven't seen a film like The Imaginarium of Dr Parnassus before. That isn't to say there aren't films like it. But it is different to everything else I've seen. Director Terry Gilliam hails from Monty Python heritage, so it stands to reason that his films should be quirky and inexplicably confusing and random in its plot and execution. Plus having one's star die a very public death before the completion of filming is bound to force a director's hand to some less than conventional film making tactics.

Said dead star - Heath Ledger - is pretty phenomenal in this film. The fact that he didn't get to do any post recordings for the sound means that his cockney accent is pretty flawed - his Aussie nasal twang dips in and out. But his physicality, and his oniony character in this film - a vulnerability coupled with conniving, manipulative schemes - forces the audience to confront the idea that he was a brillant actor. That he was robbed of his Oscar for Brokeback. And it ignites the possibility that he could be posthumously nominated for awards for MULTIPLE films, considering how amazing he was in The Dark Knight.

His replacements (plural) work pretty well, with the shifting realities used as the reasoning behind his change in appearance. I wonder how much footage Ledger shot of these 'interiors' as David calls them in his review. But Johnny Depp, Jude Law and Colin Farrel capture Ledger's Tony, each with their own spin on his character. I may have audible swooned when Johnny Depp came onto screen. It's a reflex. I can't help it. Tom waits makes a pretty wicked Devil, bowler hat and all, though Christopher Plummer's drunken Dr Parnassus is a little too drunken, callous and repetitive to really win me over.

The Imaginarium is a beautifully lush film. The design on it is quite extraordinary, sliding between centuries and realities and cities and artistic movements. Plus, as my brother said, "rangas in green are hot." And indeed Lily Cole is smoking as Valentina. All of the costumes and sets, the make up and props were just breathtaking.

The plot, however, is a little holey. Or just not quite clear enough. I never really knew when we were inside the Imaginarium and when we were not. And when we were in a flashback, and when we were not. Whether this is Gilliam in his fantastical keep-up-or-get-left-behind mode, or because the plot structure had to be dramatically tweaked without Ledger there to finish it off, I am not sure. There are a lot of things left unsaid, or possibly they were just glossed over and I missed them. Like what the markings were on Tony's face when he was 'dead'. Or why he knows how to speak Russian. Or how he ended up on the front page of The Sun (also referred to as The Mirror).

Underlying the whole film is the knowledge that this is Ledger's last. There will be no more acting credits added to his all-too-short list of 23 on IMDB. The final scenes of Tony (at that point played by Farrell) hold a poignance and a bitterness of truth that seem all too tragic to comprehend.

This movie is not for those who like to go to the movies to switch off. It is not a rom-com escapist or a mindless action blockbuster (not that there is anything wrong that... some of my best friends are mindless action blockbusters). It is a movie that will get inside your brain and move stuff around, so the next time you go to process a thought, you might forget how to do it properly.

PS/ That poster does NOTHING to sell the film at all. It looks more like a cross between Harry Potter and the Polar Express...

It's all about Sexy Vampires

I have always had a bit of a fetish for a good vampire story. Can't say I am a huge fan of the damsel in distress style sob story. But a kick arse chick in a vampire story is usually enough to pique my interest. And yes, by this I mean that I have no time whatsoever for the Twilight series. Yes, I read it. All 4 books. But I hated myself for it. And I can't get behind the film. Even the previews make me feel slightly stabby.

Buffy I guess is my original inroad to the vampire thing. From there, there was some Bram Stoker, and some Anne Rice. And of course Angel.

And now there is True Blood.

Set in an alternate reality, where vampires have lived among humans for years, but have recently 'come out of the coffin', demanding equal rights as humans. Most of the action takes place in the 'small' town on Bon Temps in Louisinana. It's all Alan Ball and his obsession with death (he was the guy behind Six Feet Under). It's pretty high in the melodrama, and as a result, pretty overacted, but it makes for some compelling viewing!

The cast has a fair whack of the antipodean - Ryan Kwanten (of Home & Away fame) has trimmed down and must be on some kind of incredible regeime, because he is totally ripped. You know that line of muscle that runs down the inside of a boy's hip - commonly known amongst my friends as the 'sex bones'? Kwanten's Jason Stackhouse has sex bones to climb over broken tiles for. And Kiwi Anna Paquin might have what I am now calling 'shoulder boobs' (they just seem unfeasibly high and perky) and she might do a terrible screen cry, but her Sooky Stackhouse (shit name, right?) is cute as a button and totally self righteous. Plus the token Brit is the very broody (because you can't be a vampire love interest hero without being broody, right?) is Stephen Moyer's Bill Compton. Who kind of looks like Jon Bon Jovi on his imdb page...

The whole premise works as a metaphor about prejudice and justice and shifting power bases. The race card is played often - and beautifully - by Sooky's childhood friend Tara (who has hypnotically beautful skin) and her incredibly camp cousin Lafayette who also plays the homophobia card too (was there any doubt about his orientation when his folks chose that name...?). The show also deals with issues of addiction, with vampire blood working as a narcotic on humans. And there is the serial killer/murder mystery/Nancy Drew component. All this on top of the usual fare of high melodrama - star crossed lovers, unrequited love, casual sex getting serious... I think they were trying to do a something for everyone arrangement. Oh, did I mention the hard core sex scenes??

The Louisiana accent is so addictive. After only a few episodes, I found myself thinking in the Southern drawl. And when Bill says "Sooky" (it kind of rhymes with 'sucky' if you say it right) it is enough to make your insides melt. If you could just get over the giggling.

I've only seen season 1. And I can't wait to sink my teeth into season 2!

More of a Slide

Gotta say, I thought this was a bit disappointing for Nick Hornby. Slam has a very beige blurb on the back cover. The premise of a talking Tony Hawke poster is lame beyond belief. The tale of teenage pregancy is cliche beyond reckoning.

But High Fidelity and Fever Pitch were such good treatments of what otherwise could be considered cliche topics the midlife crisis of an underachieving music fan (who doesn't know one of them? or isn't one of them?) and the difficulties of being a passionate football supporter. Plus they made for some fanbloodytastic stimulus for films. John Cusak? Hell yeah! Colin Firth? Uh-huh! There is an extra B in Hornby films.

So I decided to give Slam a bash.

And was underwhelmed. Usually, Hornby writes with bite and pith and moments of clarity of recognition of one's own life on the page. With Slam, his first "teenage" fiction he has dumbed himself down. I would have thought as an English teacher in his previous life that he would have known that in order to write a really good novel that will appeal to teenagers you SHOULD NOT DUMB DOWN. EVER.

The crazy narrative structure and time travel governed by a poster that regurgitates the autobiography of the world's most famous skater make the book a little more complex, but not more interesting. Having said that though, the characters were slightly compelling. Not in a Harry Potter or Lyra Belaqua or Eliza Bennett Need-To-Know-What-Happens-NOW kind of way. But in a Oh-It's-Bedtime-I-Might-See-What-Happens-To-These-Kiddies kind of way.

If I had a job in a bookshop, this is NOT one that I would put a staff recommends sticker onto.

Holiday By Numbers

2357 kilometres
101 Year 10 trial papers
57 shots of coffee (approx)
40 facebook status updates (wow, that is kinda sad)
30 year 10 True Stories projects
28 year 8 poetry essays
25 Year 7 fantasy film projects
27 pieces of sushimi (approx)
21 Year 11 report comments & grades
19 bottles of Pure Blonde (approx)
17 Year 12 practise essays
16 days without school
10 tweets
10 episodes of True Blood
9 hours of paranoia about overheating Henry (my car)
8 vodka lime & sodas (approx)
7 Year 8 Drama group projects
6 games on Wii
6 to-do lists
6 blogposts (including this one)
5 episodes of Arrested Development
5 Three Cheese Omelettes (with a side of tomato, capsicum & mushroom)
5 nights in Sydney
4 tanks of petrol
4 playtimes with Darby Girl
4 pieces of tofu in Tums Thai pad thai (score!)
4 trips to the cinema
4 schooners of Coopers Pale
3 episodes of Seinfeld
3 gym visits
3rd place in Trivia
3 afternoons in Gertrude & Alice
2 and a half glasses of pink wine
2 birthday parties (and a birthday coffee)
2 batches of brownies
2 tutorials
2 new bedside tables
1 and a half bowls of Tori Nachos with her magic Guacamole
1 new laptop
1 night in Millthorpe
1 plate of Green Eggs

Whip It: Good

Drew Barrymore is a little bit like ordering at the West Bubblefuck Thai take-away. Sometimes it is really good - flavoursome, succulent, noodles cooked to perfection, just the right amount of spice. Othertimes it is decidedly average - like when they put too much of that weird red sauce in the pad thai, or when they use too much oil in the chicken cashew.


Sometimes Mz Barrymore is spot on. Fifty First Dates and The Perfect Catch (or Fever Pitch if you want to be all American-remake-that-doesn't-acknowledge-the-Nick-Hornby/Colin-Firth-original about it) for example.


Other times she is very much NOT on the money. Never Been Kissed and Ever After for example.


I do love the fact that she has overcome that whole alcoholic at age 4 or something rediculous, and growing-up-in-the-paparazzi-eye to become a film producer with her own (very cheesily named) production company Flower Films. She has gone "I've got some money. I've put up with some shit in my life. I'm going to do something with it." Kudos to you, Drew.


But it was with a raised eyebrow that I learned of her directorial debut; Whip It.



Then David and Margaret pretty much gave it a luke warm review, and I wasn't sold at all. In fact I thought I would give it a miss. Even though it has the very adorable Ellen Page in it. And even though the subject is roller derby - something that has always fascinated me.


But then I did a movie marathon with my bro (Monday and Tuesday!) and we saw the preview. And it looked *AWSOME!* (you really need to sing that in a high pitched voice to get the full effect of the sentence). And so on Wednesday, we went.


And it was good. (And ever since then, I have had Devo's "Whip It" in my head)


Sure it might have been the fact that I was just in the mood for some silliness of a predictable sports film. And possibly it might have been the fact that the treat of 3 dates with my bro in a row was a treat I couldn't help but be delighted with. And the fact that I was hyped up on sugar and post-gym endorphins also probably assisted my jubilance. But I loved it!!


The plot is pretty much based on the same old sports film structure. In fact, change a culture, and a sport, and this could be Bend it like Beckham on skates. Fights with mother, lies and sneaking around, gorgeous skinny boys in the love story sub-plot (and seriously, Landon Pigg is a dead ringer for the delectable Jonathan Rhys Myers).


Ellen Page was indeed adorable. She is an entirely believable actress, especially with the coming-of-age genre. And Alia Shawkat (Maibe Funke in Arrested Development) as the best friend was so hot. And fabulously obsessed with cute boys.


As soon as the opening credits started, I leaned over to my bro and said "This is going to be a killer sound track", and I was not disappointed. Heaps of indie gold, a bit of old school rock... Of course, no outlet in West Bubblefuck will stock it, so I'll have to order online and wait a few days.


And then there was the skating. I have been a little obsessed with all things 1950s design for a while now. Give me a full skirt, or a cherry motif, a cinched waste or a high ponytail and you can pretty much bet that I'm in. Roller derby has the blunt fringes, the fishnets and the frilly knickers thing poached from 50s design. But it is also a contact sport for girls. Which my mother reckons is just soft porn. But I think is pretty awesome. Plus there is the whole tough-names-with-puns thing. And we know what a sucker I am for puns. Bloody Holly, Smashley Simpson, Babe Ruthless... The derby scenes were pretty haphazard (Margaret complained that she couldn't keep up with the action - I just reckon she isn't sports-brain-wired) but so much fun. And I could only see ONE stunt stand-in in the credits (and that was for Barrymore, possibly because she was a bit busy, you know, directing and stuff). I laughed so hard when the Hurl Scouts (the team we were meant to be cheering) got floored by the Flight Attendants (coached by none other than Har Mar Superstar).


I've played one game of hilarious rugby in my life. I used to play basketball (which could get pretty rough) and I plan on playing soccer again next year (even though West Bubblefuck doesn't have women's comp!!!! Seriously, how backwards is that??!?). I'm not averse to some push and shove, and I do love showing off a haematoma. So all in all, I kind of want to play. Not only because it looks like a mega amount of fun. But also because I know it would annoy my mother...?

If only I could skate.

(Apologies for the apparent addiction to parentheses in this post. Possiblity of too much caffiene causing my brain to work tangentally)

The importance of being earnest

The Australian film industry seems to be going through a bit of a stage. There was a while there were all that was made was quirky comedies. With heart. And some were fantastic! But some were just lame. Like that one where Claudia Karvan and Guy Pearce swapped bodies... Lame and unoriginal.

But lately, we are making Important Films. Untold stories that MUST be told. That MUST be seen. Didactic tales of injustice and humanity's disgrace.

Sampson and Delilah.

The Last Ride.

And last night I saw Balibo.

Based on the true story of the invasion of East Timor by Indonesia, mere moments after independance from Portugal was declared. And the rest of the world knew that it was happenening. But thought it easier not to get involved.

There aren't many films that paint the journos as the good guys, the ones with integrity and courage. Five young guys from Channel 7 and Channel 9 were hungry for the story, hungry to tell the truth of the people who were voiceless on the international stage. So they went to the front line to film the invasion.

And they were captured. And killed. (Shouldn't really be a spoiler, it is a true story after all).

Roger East (another journo, brilliantly played by Anthony LaPaglia of Without A Trace and Sydney FC fame) is convinced by the incredibly charismatic Jose Ramos Horta (activist and future Timorese president, even more brilliantly played by Oscar Isaac - possibly the most beautiful face I have seen in months) to come to Timor to find the missing journos and tell the Timor story.

The film is beautifully shot. The edit is a little confusing, but I think that adds to the chaos and confusion of impending war. The bookending of the film with interviews of survivors of the Indonesian occupation is pretty unnecessary, but I guess it gives a bit of "this is where we got our story from" credence to the tale.

The plot makes the Indonesians look pretty bad. But then, the fact that Australia - only an hour away did NOTHING to assist the Timorese in '75 makes us look even worse really. (The film even asserts that Australian intel was used to help the Indonesians.) At the end of the film, IO pretty much felt like the human race is pretty much FUBAR.

...Think I'll need to get something light and fluffy into me soon!

Swing and a miss

As far as seminal films go, Swingers is up there. It is like a peek inside the mind of the 20-something human male. Before Miranda had her epiphany of "He's just not that into you" courtesy of Burger, which liberated her from the angst of over-analysis on Sex and the City (that spawned the book and then the film of the same name - neither of which I have bothered with, to be honest) there was the "Why didn't you call?... It didn't occur to me" epiphany of Swingers.

[Aside: And what I just realised this very moment: It is the SAME ACTOR!!!! Ron Livingston plays both Burger from Sex and the City and he plays Rob, the golf-playing, Goofy-playing friend who listens to Jon Favreau's endless whining about his ex!!! I just had a Ron Livingston epiphany about his film epiphanies!]

Anyway, that Swingers epiphany really helped settle some confusing questions about human males at a time when such questions were being thrown around pretty frequently. Plus Vince Vaughn at his skinny, hilarious best and his quotable quotes, about baby and money and don't even know it, about being a bear and her being a little rabbit. It's the original Suit Up film - How I Met Your Mother has big shoes to fill. And there is also references to my all time favourite, The Wizard of Oz.

"We're not in Kansas any more... I'm a comedian"

So from the dizzy comedy heights of the predatory human males, slaves to their libidos and their emotions that they can't articulate comes:

Couples Retreat.

I think the best laughs I got out of this film was the laugh of recognition when an awesome cameo came onto the screen. Peter Serafinawicz and his creepy smile were pretty exceptional. The child actor playing Vaughn's youngest son has phenomenal charisma. And of course there were some well written one liners, and some amusing situations. But generally I've gotta agree with David & Margaret, this comedy just really wasn't all that funny. And isn't that meant to be the point?

Possibly, the storyline suffered from some over-editing. In the trailer, there are some scenes with a little background exposition about some of the characters that don't appear in the film. And without those details, the story lacks depth, and just becomes a series of penis jokes. And not very well written ones at that.

The promo for the film is pretty much funnier than the film itself. Giles' (friend from days of yore, and current film blogger for SMH (can you feel the jealousy in the strokes of the keys??))
interview with Vince Vaughn and Jason Batemen is a little bit like comedy perfection.

Or your money back

In the interests of satisfying the urge to post, without taking up too much of my marking time...

The Top 6 Things That Are Guaranteed To Make Me Smile

6. Peeling the top off the butter.

5. The change of tempo in Franz Ferdinand's "Take Me Out" (previously blogged about here)

4. Clean pyjamas in clean sheets

3. The bell on Friday at 3.15pm

2. Michael Cera's face

1. My dog realising I am holding the lead and leaping into the air with joy.

And you?

It’s True – Everything is.

Usually I have my trusty iRiver to take me from West Bubblefuck to wherever it is that I need to go. But there was a drastic recharging error (ie I put it on to charge and for some reason I didn't make sure all the connections were connected) and the mp3 player ran out of battery with only half an hour of driving left.

And there is a 4 hour drive to look forward to tomorrow with all my worldly possessions (ie a bed, some cooking utensils, an ikea mirror and 2 bean bags) on the back of a ute. The fear of making said drive in the stoney silence of no radio reception filled my belly. So I went shopping.

I knew there was a CD that I had heard discussed on the radio, and as I stood there in Sanity, I had my very own moment of insanity. I couldn't for the life of me remember who it was who made the CD that I had wanted to buy. There were leading questions from helpful friends and shop assistants alike. But to no avail.

Have I publically praised Target on this blog before? If not, a public worship of the house of Target is well overdue. I stood there in the sterile isles, and there he was, like a beacon of musical talent in the dark night of the musically beige and boring.

Paul Dempsey's solo album Everything is true.

(I also purchased Duffy's Rockferry based pretty much entirely on how much I heard Warwick Avenue when I was in the UK precisely a year ago and Coldplay's Viva La Viva based on the fact that I really love the title track. Turns out both albums are mostly beige filler, except for the singles)

I know some Die Hard Something For Kate Fans. One is responsible for the naming of the Mechanical Sharks tour (based on the fact that she threw a wind up shark on stage early in their tour that was promoting the Beautiful Sharks tour and they liked it a lot). One has a number of multiple copies of different versions of the same album in order to own all the versions of the cover art (including several of the same EP with the band hand drawn covers). I love Aussie music and I love 90s rock. But I have never really been a huge card carrying fan of Something For Kate. I don't own any albums, I have only ever seen them at festivals that I have been to, not one of their own gigs.

And then I heard "Ramona Was A Waitress" on the Js over the last few weeks. And I heard Paul Dempsey (The Man Some Of My Friends Call God) on the radio saying that he doesn't really know where the sound for this new album came from, and how it is different to everything else that he has done before. Yes, that would be the radio interview where I couldn't remember the subject of the interview. Me and my stupid brain...

Anyway, the album. Best I have bought all day – but as I said the other two are pretty much filler. Best album I have bought for a long time, really. Dempsey is right, it doesn't sound like S4K very much at all. It is simultaneously more country and less depressing. I realise the paradox of that statement. S4K, while producing some brilliant stuff, does tend to have the whiff of the emo to it. Does tend to smack vaguely of Woe Is Me and Isn't The World A Bit Fucked. This album doesn't really have that. Hell, there is a track called "The Great Optimist" to be my entire case in point. And when I say it is a little bit country, it is more about the riff and the down and up beats than it is about someone stealing his truck and his dog and his woman, and leaving him only with a bottle of booze. This is an album that I could stick on high rotation and leave there, and I haven't heard one of them for ages.

Plus the album art is just gorgeous. If your purchasing opinion is ever swayed by random blogposts, buy this album. Don't just procure it illegally, burn it or download it. Buy the disc, with the beautiful liner notes (Hell, get it on LP if you can, the artwork should be bigger). Give the money to the Aussie artists, and wrap yourself in this album like a lovingly stitched quilt.