I was having an in depth conversation with a person who claimed that there was such a thing as "good taste". That is, it wasn't up to what we as individuals thought was good - there is inherent in the world a notion of good taste. Extending this to art, she said that there is good art and bad art. We've seen countless examples of adults entering their children's drawings into art competitions and winning them. Critics point to this as somehow proving that the idea that modern art is not real art. For example, how can a child's rambling be considered as socially relevant or even aesthetically pleasing? I say however, that the very fact that we live in a world where a child's scribble can be appreciated as art and be interpreted by adults as somehow being a critique of society, is something we should all treasure. It does not make a mockery of "art" - it elevates it as the great equaliser.

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Bach and the Human Genome Project

Number symbolism in Bach's music has been an ongoing form of academic study. Not only was Bach a great composer, but he also used number symbolism in his music to leave even more clues about his music. Sort of like how post modernists quote movies, or the bible speaks in metaphors. Anyway, I was sent an e mail which cites an article by Christa Rumsey on "Baroque Symbolism in the Music of Bach" and summarises the contents of that article. This no doubt included summaries by other authors. It is important to read this before reading my alleged "revolutionary" discoveries. I don't know... I'm cruel. People spend years of research into this stuff and I dismiss it in a satirical attack. I don't know if anyone will appreciate this except for organists, but hey, the AV caters to all tastes. Click here for the full article. It's the most rewarding 10 minutes you'll have since the New Yorker's Gillette article.

The Death of Extremism at Club Mac!!!

Universities often have a reputation as being extreme left wing - you know, tree huggin' free lovin' drug takin' hippies and all. Extremism was always "in" at uni. Well, the 90s has seen a new rebellion - a rebellion against extremism. It's very rare that you'll find even an experimental anarchist. Indeed, one of our tutors almost had a seizure when not one student would argue the case for a reading that advocated anarchism as a geniune philosophy or mode of organisation of a society. Our university lecturers - re-living the glory days of holding hands with boys who dig girls who dig boys who dig boys like they're girls - bemoan the loss of the spirit of protest that beset our country's students in the vietnam era. I suppose it's hard to get all teary eyed and militant about tax reform...

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Movies Revisited: Visually Masterful American History X!

In American History X (AHX), Tony Kaye has made an ambitious film that that uses an individual story to paint a broad picture of the history and ongoing challenges that the relationship between black and white Americans face. The director achieves this in a number of ways. This review will focus particularly on the visual dialogue of the film because it is stunning. A visually coherent film helps not only with continuity but to imbed a series of signs throughout that often tells a whole new narrative not contained or barely alluded to in the dialogure.

In the case of AHX, the pre-eminent sign is the US flag. We see the flag on the desk of the principals office and we see Danny Vinyard, played by Edward Furlong, swinging a toothpick flag (a really imaginatively shot piece). Outside the Vinyard residence drapes an American flag and the colours red white and blue permeate the screen. We see them in the principal's office, when Danny runs across a street (in fact, he passes a white then red then blue car), in Seth's Trident shirt, in the café the brothers go to, culminating in the shocking conclusion to the film where Danny's blood is strewn across the white urinals while his brother in a blue shirt holds him (the cubicle walls are also blue). It is a powerful visual personification of the flag that also serves as a metaphor - America has had a history of bloodiness - it was formed on blood, it has killed its own, and continues to do so within localised and personalised systems of hate and resentment.

The plot also examines the possibility of redemption from historical and present day wrongs (racism, neo-nazism).

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Movies Revisited: Trying to "make sense of this God awful war": Abjection and the Omaha sequence of Saving Private Ryan

In Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection, Kristeva says that abjection is something that "disturbs identity, system, order" (1). The Omaha landing sequence of Saving Private Ryan is an excellent example; things that give us life spew or explode out of soldiers causing death. The state of battle, destroys order and disrupts system by obliterating the line between life and death and exposing the arbitrariness of either. This abjectivity draws us into the action because the abject helps us determine who we are or what isn't us. Furthermore, we experience the abject first hand, becoming virtual soldiers where our minds are hijacked by the sound, camera work and editing. We dodge bullets, hope to stay afloat, watch the private next to us get blown up, run into a smoke fog of uncertainty (with heavy breathing) but still manage to look back at the human carnage.

Philip Brophy points out in his article "The Body Horrible: some notions, some points, some examples", that scenes of horror have an often schiszophrenic affect on viewers. They can illicit laughter (because the people portrayed are images on the screen) and horror (because we imagine ourselves), often simultaneously. But by transporting us directly into the action via soldier cam, Spielberg turns us into a body and we don't dare laugh at what's going on because we are there! Only when we are taken out of the action can we possibly have that schizophrenic laugh. This comes when we are given Miller's Point of View of a soldier looking for his arm, picking it up and trying to re-attach it. The nervous laughter in some viewings was audible and Spielberg is giving the audience room to breathe during these moments where they are removed from the action and given the point of view of an established character.

However, the sequence is still not totally abject. Kristeva also notes that the purpose of religious rituals are often about purifying the abject. Similarly in Saving Private Ryan, religious signs are littered throughout the sequence. Private Jackson kisses his cross, the meds wear the red cross while a dying soldier recites the Hail Mary in Latin, chaplins give last rights to the dying and the fence posts resemble crosses. When the Americans reach the German side, the fire flames they use to destroy life end up acting moments later as an eternal flame. When a US soldier kills a German who has surrendered, an over-exposed flame over the german's head affords as much dignity and purification to him as to the "good guys". The cross like metal barriers on the beach with dead soldiers strewn on them acts as a Calgary, giving the sequence in its final shot a message of resurrection and purification from the abject.

(1) The other reason why the sequence isn't as abject as it first appears is because Spielberg has meticulously constructed this anarchy. It is a paradox which demonstrates how cinema - a medium that is so technical - requires such a mastery of its rules to achieve abjection.

Movies Revisited: Political and Moral Corruption in The Ice Storm

The Ice Storm, directed by Ang Lee, is a film that explores the line between political and moral corruption as America struggled to come to terms with Vietnam, the enveloping Watergate scandal and the full effects of the sexual revolution on the family.

The characters in the film display an overall coldness especially to one another. The mise en scene is littered with examples that accentuate the coldness. Kline's character for example crushes or handles ice three times in the film. The white that surrounds the picture (shirts, bed sheets, walls) not only adds to the coolness but also to the dream-like and hypnotic quality it invokes. Ice blue colours permeate throughout the film, further accentuating the coldness. We see it on the wallpaper in the kitchen of the Hood household, the glow of Janey’s room, cars passing in scenes, the pharmacy awning, Wendy’s bike, the pillow in her room, bed sheets in their bedrooms, Paul’s T Shirt in the opening scenes, the empty swimming pool and the dress that Elena wears in the original dinner party.

The images of Vietnam have obviously taken a hold of Sandy, who blows up soldiers and stages fake hangings of the viet-con. This demonstrated the coldness or emptiness of the body. And in this era of moral corruption and self interest, the body is detached from any sense of significance apart from them being just bodies. And this is also true of what soldiers do in war and what the general population, in being exposed to the images of destroyed bodies, was doing. Ang Lee links this to the way that the body was used by the adults in the film as merely a tool for sexual gratification (mirrored in the behaviour of the children). The movie seems to say that while the ‘key’ parties signal a ‘liberation’ for the adults, they also had a profound effect on those they are supposed to love and look after. The sexual revolution, in de-mistifying the body contributed to the break-up of the family and in some strange way the corruption of the body politic.

When Mickey’s father comes back from a business trip, Mickey says: "I didn’t know you were gone." And while Ben and Janey’s adulterous relationship are about "You’re needs. My needs", the audience in 2000 has the benefit of history and the unfolding action to see that the affair is not just about the self interest of the characters.

The corruption of the body politic is intertwined in the narrative when we see Nixon in a press conference being directly linked to the action unfolding. In a science presentation Mickey says: "Everything around you is part of you." This is a metaphor of the political (Watergate and Vietnam) and moral corruption that is confusing his search for identity. When Mickey lies on top of Wendy as she wears the Nixon mask, it is not only for comical effect - it personifies Mickey’s presentation speech. Is it any wonder then, that with the political and moral corruption around him, Mickey says just before going out into the ice storm: "When it freezes, when you breathe, there’s nothing in the air. The molecules have stopped. it’s clean". He is trying to escape the confusion. Unfortunately, when the molecules have stopped, life also stops and death arrives. It is only then that we truly realise that the body can only be truly de-mistified at death. While alive, the body itself and everything that surrounds it must be more than about selfish ends otherwise it is as good as dead. Ironically, the most heartfelt touching of a body is when Kline's character holds the dead Mickey and cries.

From the Ice Storm, Ang Lee implies that an uncomfortable truth may emerge: the sexual revolution and materialism has corrupted the family; Vietnam and Nixon corrupted the values of democracy. Because ‘everything around you’ becomes you, no-one is immune from the consequences.

A Paris Less Ordinary?

Reviewed 20 April 2008

“Paris is not merely a city of France, whose collective life is something to be studied objectively, from a place apart, much as an entomologist studies an ants' nest; it is a corner of his own soul.”

This was what Philip Heseltine wrote about Delius’ 1900 symphonic nocturne: “Paris, A Night Piece - The Song of a Great City.” Paris, the 2008 film in release at Palace Cinemas, is a sweet film designed to show us that Paris' beauty lies in its rich tapestry of people (and complexity) going about their day to day lives. Unfortunately, in the eyes provided to us by the director, the film ends up being as underwhelmingly banal as the city is overwhelmingly beautiful.

The problem lies in large part to the director's inability to find a rhythm in his editing to fit in so many stories. Not only are we blessed with a former male moulin rouge dancer undertaking a heart transplant (big sign for "heart of the film" or paris' geography being heart like). We have his sister, a mother of three young children who moves in for the period of the brother’s illness. She’s a social worker yet vulnerable and unable to get out and find a guy. The girl in the apartment across the road starts a relationship with a cute young guy at the university where her professor sees her like the bright lights of paris – a marvel – and sends her teenager-ish text messages. He courts her Woody Alan style (one of many homages to the woodmeister including blowing on ears) with his intellect while simultaneously being in need of severe psychotherapy. The professor’s banal brother provides the life/death story ark as his wife is expecting a child. There is also the loveably nasty clichéd old school racist middle aged woman owner of a boulangerie who also dislikes young people but nonetheless finds a way to begrudgingly respect a north African girl who is a hard worker (a nod to the immigrants). So too there’s another african who's trying to bring his brother over from africa to start a new life (a nod to the plight of immigrant boat people). Not to be outdone, the working classes are not forgotten with a bunch of blokey bloke working class dudes who run the local markets and whistle and make sexist comments to the local ladies without fear. And that’s not all of our characters.

Managing all these people and storylines is possible. But the problem becomes one that resembles the quote above – it seems more of an entomological exercise. By trying to so thoroughly cover the people as varied as its arrondissements, by trying to capture so much of the minutiae of Paris’ rhythms, its circle running the gamut of life and death (and then some), you lose the sense of the city’s (and director’s) soul. You could trot out the same characters for any number of cities and there would be no difference. I feel that he really lost his way in telling us what makes Paris stand out from the other cities. His main character did not capture for us, the audience, its essence. How, for example, does the city itself shape these people? I look at another film in release, Ben Affleck’s “Gone Baby Gone” and I can see the visual personification of a neighbourhood in its actors. I look at this film and I don't see it. All I see is either quickly drawn and somewhat stereotypical characters shaping their environment. After the initial promise of a Delius like revelation through the main character’s eyes falling through, I was hopeful in early scenes with the professor character that the film would offer something by its conclusion, but there was no visual expression of the professor’s philosophising on the city.

And again, all those beautiful landmarks in the film we see; how does the peoples’ environment shape them and give their story ark purpose and then feed back into how that landmark is perceived? Just take a look at Woody Allen's "Everyone says i love you" - what magic when woody is dancing with Goldie Hawn and she is veritably floating on the walkways under the beautiful bridges on the river seine which feeds into the beauty of the place itself? Instead we get a series of stories that seek to flesh out all the essential parts of Parisian life but with each element not thoroughly examined or played out, there's no time to examine this except using way too many crude cinematic devices. The camera hardly dwells on anything (the exception being the flashing Eiffel Tower after the promise of Santa Claus – and even then the audience knows that’s a conceit). And the continuity for the audience is a big ask – some edits are narratively unrelated and rely purely on film 101 techniques (eg. copying a movement from a previous shot and continuing on with it in the next shot) to achieve continuity. And there's so much more I could criticise about the story telling and a somewhat conservative view of females but I don't have time. Like a boullabaise infused with too many ingredients, Paris ends up being satisfying but really indistinct. Woody Allen and Kieslowsky (three colours trilogy) are obviously influences in this film, but the director should have paid just a little more attention to the story telling, to the heart of the film, and maybe then would this entomological (in the metaphoric sense) exercise have revealed to us a corner of the director’s own soul and a more wonderful Paris. 65/100

PS. This film critique may sound a little harsh, but there's no reason to be less unkind to a film that aims so loftily as this one does and then be unkind to a poorly executed hollywood genre film. I think too many people let "art house" films off too lightly which leads to a lowering of standards in what writers can get away with.

AV Food Guide to Melbourne 2008

18 April 2008

The food critic at the AV has been asked to suggest a few restaurants or bars that one might head over to on a short 3 day break to Melbourne. As a Sydneysider he has excluded St Kilda, because he claims that while having good restaurants and bars “Sydney does St Kilda on a bad day better than St Kilda does on a good day, so why would you go there to get a feel for Melbourne with such limited time?” He has also excluded South Bank & The Casino which he claims is too “Darling Harboury”:

1. Becco. It's on one of the cutest lanes (crossley) in melbourne which gets better every year. Located opposite a shop that sells antique and sometimes racist toys from yesteryear (golliwogs), there's always something to look at and people gazing is a pleasure close to a window table on fri and sat nights. Must call and get a late reservation, asking to sit by a window, and have some drinks at gingerboy's bar next door before dinner. Food wise, the calamari (and chilli) in terms of consistency, is short of having it fried fresh off the boat and/or at Fratelli Paradiso, the best around. The stuffed olives are a melbourne favourite, they cook the best steaks (if budget permits, the waguy is numero uno). If going as a couple, this is one place to have a share of stuff - i'd do calamari, another antipasti or a main size pasta, the waguy steak and hands down the best tiramisu in melbourne.

http://www.becco.com.au/welcome.html

2. If you want to eat less expensively and in a more upstart/grungey melbourne laneway, go to hosier lane near federation square, check out the awesome graffiti (even the garbage bins are decked out in it) and eat at MOVIDA - spanish tapas place with a chef's hat and the age good food guide dish of the year in 2007 featuring air cured waguy beef, a poached egg and truffle foam. Get in early for this one as there are no reservations and it's always packed. Personally, i was a bit "meh" about this place, as i am for most spanish tapas. But everyone i've mentioned it to loves it, and i think one of the big foodie mags called it the best tapas in australia. There's a nice little grungey bar next door to movida (towards flinders lane).

http://www.movida.com.au/docs/melbourne.htm

fine diners

3a.If you want a fine dining melbourne institution, get the "classics" degustation at Pearl Restaurant (which features the eggs, toast box and caviar). It's in Richmond and they open lunch & dinner fri, sat, sun. If not degustation, the duck curry is messy but a classic (and rightly so). the dessert (fried) dumplings topped with gold leaf are nothing short of a revelation. Also, it's a little known tid bit, but they make the best hot chocolate in melbourne (because you get to choose how chocolatey it is) - ideal for winter.

http://www.pearlrestaurant.com.au/

3b. If you have no budget constraints, and it's a special occasion, go to vue de monde. If you think conceptually about melbourne and the way it seeks to project itself; the red and yellow sculptures jutting out of the once industrial wasteland where the freeway from the airport links into the city together with the advertising campaign with the red string, Vue de Monde fits the bill. Featuring the cooking of a young upstart infiltrating the established financial district (just like the sculptures infiltrate the once industrial space) with a magical restaurant that begins with a big clue - walking through a red door, like alice in wonderland - it's a journey that actually matches the aspiration projected by the city. Problem with this restaurant is you should only do the chefs menu (gourmand) and it's $220. I had the most spectacularly creative meal there about 6 weeks ago. Dishes included a bisque that's infused on your table like a science experiment with beakers, trout that's smoked on the table and other gimmicks. But behind the gimmicks and wonder lies a technique that someone as young as this chef shouldn't really be blessed with and accordingly a fine meal will be had. Apparently, he gets bagged out quite a bit - i overheard people at Ezard saying they detested the cooking there. I can only speak for myself and the 3 times i've been have been great. Maybe i got him on 3 good days!

www.vuedemonde.com.au

3c. Another place that also gets the glittering idea of melbourne conceptually, which is also in the expensive category, is Ezard @ Adelphi. Located at the basement of the adelphi hotel in flinders lane, ezard's cooking sets a benchmark in fusion food that few can match. Every ingredient matters and has purpose. Ezard's technique is as flawless as it is broad. Starting with the must try oyster shooters (Ezard has helped me get over my fear of coriander and oysters), you could move onto the entre sized waguy burger which is an exercise in explosive delicacy. For mains, the pork hock has been on the menu for as long as i can remember for good reason and the duck is a taste sensation. They used to have my favourite main, which was a lamb cutlet with baba ghanoush and a pomegranate dressing, but it's been off the menu for 3 years. I was thinking of starting a facebook campaign to bring it back on the menu. Unfortunately though, the big weakness at Ezard is that desserts do not match the sublime experience of the earlier courses (the persian fairy floss being an exception). I've been to melbourne about 10 times in the last 4 years and i've only missed coming here once.

http://www.ezard.com.au/main.html

late night options

4. This place does 10pm reservations and on Sat night even at 10 it's still packed and you might not be seated til 1030pm. But France Soir (a clever play one words) is one of the most established fine diners in Melbourne. It's good for a hearty foie gras (check the special board) but you can't go past the steak frites. Full of french waiters with attitude, it's just so paris sometimes i think it's like a disney version - it's too real to be true. I don't know, South Yarra has really lost its edge as a destination to go to. Even shopping wise, i just stay clear now, preferring trawling through for hidden jems in melbourne's laneways (try alphaville on Flinders Lane). So, the only thing is that what do you do before and after France Soir? The answer now is to simply catch a taxi there and back into melbourne city where all the cool stuff happens (maybe botanical in south yarra if the intimate bubble bar is still open). But if you hanker for steak & chips done french style, no better place really.

http://www.france-soir.com.au/

5. See Bars, Melbourne Supper Club

BARS

4. Melbourne Supper Club. This bar was Melbourne before Melbourne knew what it was. tatty lounges, hidden away off a main street, with bar food ranging from party pies to caviar. Best enjoyed at night when you get to people watch, creating stories about who they are, where they've been and how trashy they're going to get.

http://maps.google.com.au/maps?hl=en&um=1&ie=UTF-8&q=supper+club&near=Melbourne+VIC&fb=1&view=text&latlng=-37810884,144972584,13624129367209640925

5. On Swanston Street, there's this cool bar with coaches in it - it's up a few flights of stairs and it's about 5 blocks down from fed square. Just ask hotel concierge, they'll know.

6. It's a really good idea to just ask about bars in the area - concierge or the good restaurants should have someone young there and make a suggestion for you.

7. For cocktails, Bubble Bar. This is based on 2 years ago though. And they have a very cute bar menu. See breakfast for a web link and menus. Go right to the back though, there's a less nice bar between bubble and the street.

BREAKFAST

6. Richmond Hill & Larder for breakfast is a classic sort of place. I was non plussed by their extreme business which led to a definite lack of attention to detail in the service department. However, the cheeses you can order at breakfast (just ask them) and the range and quality of dishes available make this one to check out.

http://www.rhcl.com.au/

7. The best breakfast in the world used to be found at Pearl restaurant. They're opening a cafe, scheduled to be open in April - but they've been scheduled to open for the last 2 years. The toast box filled with codeled eggs and caviar is a sensation, and the french toast with rich chocolate sauce is as decadent as: a) it sounds and b) it is tasty. Again, just check concierge or give the restaurant a call close to your arrival to see if they've opened the cafe.

8. In South Yarra, opposite a beautiful leafy stretch of street on domain road is BOTANICAL. Restaurant of the year in 2005 or 6 (it's hard to say really), this is where to catch frou frou families enjoying their polished breakfasts. I mean, this is the place i'd feel comfortable cracking open a half bottle of moet with some scrambled eggs. Don't get me wrong, the prices are not out there expensive or that these people dress that much differently to your average joe (ok, they do). It's just that expensive people like to look out and see some greenery in the morning. And they also like to look at other people enjoying other people look at each other and look back. Unfo, it's not quite like Challis Avenue potts point because you don't get trashbags walking past or people who have had really trashy nights coming in under big sunglasses.

http://www.thebotanical.com.au/

9. If you want to stick to Melbourne city - hairy canairy, an institution that opens 24 hours on weekends (fits the melbourne bill - off a laneway, up stairs, shabby chic, artist types hang there), does a great dish called "eggs in purgatory". Their bacon is crispily delicious too (get it on the side).

http://melbourne.citysearch.com.au/E/V/MELBO/0062/86/18/1.html

10. If you're there on a weekday and want to stick to melbourne city - Cafe Vue (vue de monde's cafe) has cheap and cheerful fare. Included are cheeky jaffles that are made with top notch ingredients. Opposite Vue is a cafe called Bonito or something like that (it starts with a b). They have legendary coffees (apparently) and a good breakfast.

Australian Voice Pop Notes:

Double clapping on 7^th beat is key to Rihanna’s “please don’t stop the music”

Written 13 April 2008

Rihanna's "Please don't stop the music" is an infectious dance hit which from the get go sets a strong, sharp and relentless pace. But what is it exactly about this song that stands out enough to warrant the attention of the AV’s music editor? The obvious answer lies in the seamless integration of the classic "Soul Makassa" through the lens of Michael Jackson's equally classic "wanna be startin' something." Obvious isn’t good enough. The transition is seamless because the clapping track in the sample is employed from the very beginning of Rihanna's song. Accordingly, it is the sampled clap track that provides not only the cohesiveness of the full Jackson sample later on in the song, but more importantly, the impetus for the song's entire structure.

As soon as Rihanna sings the please don't stop the music, clapping commences (on the words "music") together with the beat and the harmonic structure. If you divide the music into 8 beat brackets, there is a clap for each beat except on the 7th beat where there are 2 claps in that one beat. This double clapping gives the entire peice a natural urgency that keeps the song going - or as the lyric asks - doesn't stop the music. The driving force that the clap brings in the 7th beat is also accented at first by the bass which also has a dotted rhythm in the 7th beat followed by two beats in the 8th. Effectively what you get are the 7th and 8th beat always providing a richer rhythmic drive.

Of course, the double clapping on the 7th beat also becomes the musical equivalent of a prophesy because the words "ma-ka" from the michael jackson sample fall exactly in line with the double clap and accordingly make this 8 beat clap cycle identifiable to the Michael Jackson song.

Some people doubt the AV’s analysis of pop music (the word ludicrous gets bandied about quite a lot). But in this instance, visual evidence for our view point can be obtained, as I have today, by looking at the video clip on you tube. The person who shot her video clip also got a lot out of the clapping - the first thing you notice after the brief introduction is the clapping - and the double clap is also cut in to the editing! (another funny thing is that there's a car horn that goes off, also like 2 quavers, in the background of the introduction, while rihanna is in the taxi and before she starts singing, that happens to coincide with the same note as "music" - i don't know if it was intentional, but i thought it was funny). Michael Jackson got a writer's credit for this song and there's no doubting why - he simply provides the rhythmic (clapping) impetus for the whole song, the glue that binds it together, together with his interpretation of the Soul Makassa. And again this is evidence of the power of creating new texts with the rich tapestry of what's come before.

GOSLING STARS IN LARS & THE REAL GIRL

Reviewed 6 April 2008

A most unlikely rites of passage film, this masterful film deals with issues such as grieving, love, loneliness and community with poignancy, wit and an economy rarely seen in films that straddle the art house/mainstream divide.

The story focuses on Lars, played by Ryan Gosling. He's a lonely guy with more than a touch of the OCD in him, avoiding contact even with his own family (he lives in the garage of the family home with his brother and pregnant wife) yet not completely detached from the community he lives in. He is religious and attends mass but assiduously avoids Margo, a chorister at church and also a work colleague. We learn that his mother died, probably at his birth, and that his father was a broken man. His older brother left the family while Lars was young, leaving Lars with the broken dad. This gives us some insight into why Lars is so emotionally vacant. In any case, Lars buys an anatomically correct (sex) doll but treats her as a real person, naming her Bianca (no significance for the name springs to mind). He creates a back-story to this girl and introduces her to the brother and his wife. Instead of trying to convince him that the girl isn't real, the entire community decides that Lars is trying to communicate something to them with his delusional self and accept bianca as a real person. The film then follows Lars' journey, the rites of passage that this lifeless doll allows him to experience. The film is filled with significance, whether in the time construct (winter to spring), the narrative construct (eg fact Lars' brother's wife is pregnant) and in the mise en scene itself. The way the film is shot, filled with the oppressive small town winter that further freezes emotion and expression is so impressive.

More Detail

For me, I was so blown away by the fact that a script presented a rites of passage film coloured by grieving despite Lars being 27. The fact is, Lars is a child who has not been given the opportunity to grieve the loss of his mother and has been surrounded by emotionally vacant people. He sees his brother's pregnant wife and not only fears a vicious circle but i also think he sees the new baby as his needing to change too. The only way he can do this is to create a fictitious girlfriend. THe film's premise seems so ridiculous that played by any other competent actor, the film could have disintegrated either as a caricature of mental illness or a comedy - but Gosling walks the tightrope by designing a character we can relate to. And without any gimmicks. Lars' loneliness, his loss and his working through his personal issues resonate with all of us who have struggled. They resonate even more strongly for those who have experienced loss or depression. Gosling doesn't miss a beat - every facial twitch, every awkward step contains a method that allows an audience in. And like all great design - his Lars is one that speaks to the audience and its consciousness. It is method that's not detached from his audience. When Lars begins to open himself to the GP, the power of that scene is that we believe that for Lars it is a monumental step.

There will be more to say following a second viewing but this film is well well worth it, and that's after accounting for my personal preferences and almost unrequited love for Ryan Gosling (i've been a huge fan since the Believer). 90/100

Film Review: BE KIND REWIND

Reviewed 2 April 2008

The overwhelming feeling I had during and after watching Michel Gondry's film Be Kind Rewind was one of privilege. I felt privileged that I was given an insight into the visual expression of a wildly imaginative mind. The film, like Science of Sleep, explores the idea that the creative process not only can change an individual's reality, a society's reality but also its past. It would be quick to judge the film's expression of creating a past as quite simply evidence of Gondry's using post-modern theory at its simplest in visual form, but this would detract from a powerfully traditional narrative line in support of local communities and the preservation of culture - a traditional narrative reminiscent of classic Hollywood films such as "It's a Wonderful Life".

The story follows Jerry (played by Jack Black) and Mike (played by Mos Def), two twenty something guys who behave like teenagers. Mike lives at the video shop Be Kind Rewind which is owned by Elroy Fletcher (Danny Glover). Elroy isn't Mike's father, but he certainly is his father figure having taken him under his wings. Jerry on the other hand is slightly unhinged. Mentally he believes in conspiracy theories and dreams up elaborate, wildly imaginative contraptions which remind me somewhat of Tom Green's antics. Elroy's shop is facing a demolition order from the council unless he can come up with 60k to do the necessary works. The local council wants to gentrify the community - which means bland soulless development. Of course, Elroy, Mike and Jerry know that this is where the great jazz legend Fatz Waller was born. Elroy leaves Mike in charge of the shop while he goes to study the success of another video shop. He tells Mike to keep Jerry away from the shop. Of course, Jerry doesn't stay away, and following an accident with a power station - Jerry de-magnetises all the videos in the shop. Mike, panicking that he will be viewed as a failure, decides to shoot his own versions of the Hollywood greats. Ghostbusters, Rush Hour 2 and even Driving Miss Daisy are given the Jerry & Mike treatment (or as they call it, the films are "sweded"). The films become community cult classics - reminiscent of how films by trash artists like John Waters become cult classics. Soon, the empty video shop has business booming but is it too late to save the day?

The rough narrative I've outlined above follows a pretty straight forward trajectory that has made Hollywood narratives so powerful and persuasive throughout the world. It feeds into all of our desires of the underdog triumphing over nefarious intentions and so forth. The content however is far from ordinary. Dazzling and creative set design and cinematography transform the straightforward narrative into something unique and breathtaking. I found myself watching every little detail, the attention to colour, and the sometimes wicked sense of humour. The film also advocates a post-modern approach of history being able to be created. In the end, the film affirms the rich body of mainstream cinematic film via homage and in a way, Gondry was extremely clever to revert to a traditional narrative approach when it came to this film because he was paying homage to it. We know he can make a film with askew narrative such as Science of Sleep, but i was not bored at all seeing him do a traditional david & goliath/"it's a wonderful life keeping communities together". If anything my admiration of the man grew. Be Kind Rewind makes it 2 out of 2 films for Gondry. Science of Sleep for me is a masterpiece, but this came very close. 85/100

Film Review: APRES LUI "Before Him"

Reviewed 2 April 2008

After seeing Ozon's 8 Women, I was sure that Catherine Deneauve would be a favourite of Paris drag queens. Unfortunately, last time I was in Paris, I didn't get past raidd bar to go to their equivalent of Newtown's Imperial hotel to see whether i was right. It's not that Deneauve is an OTT character in “8 women”, it’s just that she achieves diva status in a somewhat cold and detached way. In Apres Lui however, Deneauve sheds some of that cool exterior, playing a grieving mother in a way so convincing it makes me forget her celebrity. The other actor in the film was in Gael Morel's previous (excellent, explosive, electric, etc) film 3 Dancing Slaves. In that movie he played the younger (and gay) brother of 3 motherless sons and basically stole the show with his refined performance. In this movie, he plays the best friend of Deneauve's dead son. He and his best friend begin the movie in Deneauve's clothes (obvious significance), playing dress ups for a party they are invited to. In this movie they are both straight but the movie opens with them dressing up in his best friend's mothers clothes. On the way back from the party, the best friend smashes his car into a tree, impaling Deneauve's son. Her grieving from this point until the last shot in the film is beautifully shot by Morel - it is all encompassing, metaphorically captured in the film's technique - particularly the selection of shots - from the most penetrating close up to very distant shots. And like those shots, the grieving ranges from primal sobs to an almost mechanical way of dealing with her grief.

The relationship Deneauve's character has with the best friend is controversial. Remember the best friend was the driver. But the implication of her actions in befriending him are at first simply part of her need to have evidence of his life (as she told the professor when she asked for her son's uni paper). And what more powerful evidence can there be than his living best friend, the closest person to him at the time of his death, and the person who he shared everything with (the story of how the house cat got its name is a case in point). Deneauve also begins to intervene in his life while perversely re-creating the scene of the accident with him. The symbolism of the tree is probably a little overstated in the film, but something goes awry when they burn the tree down (it's not exactly spelled out what happened – the implication is Deneauve’s character loses her mind). A restraining order is placed on the grieving mother, and she becomes even more of a mess - hanging around the university and sending the best friend gifts that are returned. The grieving has turned her into someone quite pathetic (in the traditional sense of the word). She somehow learns that he has been shipped away to Portugal and the movie ends with her finding him. I'm not sure whether HE told her where he was or whether she got someone to trace him. I doubt it was the latter but it’s open to the audience to believe that Deneauve’s character could not possibly be that deranged.

In 3 dancing slaves, morel examines the mother from a point of absence. In this movie, he examines the mother from the point of her loss - a loss of a child that the mother seems to feel so completely because the child comes from within her (and so too the grief). It is not as emotional as other films dealing with loss and grieving because Deneauve doesn't go for the cheap emotional whack over the head. It is also not flamboyantly psychosexual (for the best example of that see Ozon's SITCOM). But as a movie that examines grieving and loss, particularly a mothers, this movie is really interesting. Given that I watch cinema to experience things I would never in real life - viewing the grieving mother, through the prism of my own life, I definitely appreciated watching this one - and because of the cinematography - i appreciated watching it on the big screen. 72/100

SERIAL COMPLAINANT TARGETS RESTAURANT

A miserable experience at the Centennial restaurant, which makes the best lamb pizzas and waffles in town, had our serial complainer returning to fine form in his first letter of complaint to a restaurant. Did the hotel respond? Find out after the letter:

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Dear Sir/Madam,

Dinner, 16 August 2007

I have been a big fan of your restaurant for many years, particularly the lamb pizza and waffles. I have recommended your restaurant to countless people, organised group events there and had employee Christmas dinners there the last 2 years.

I also do not expect service to the standard of, let’s say, a Bistro Moncur.

I also understand that when the place is very busy, we cannot expect a great deal of attention.

On Saturday night, 2 friends, my sister and I had dinner starting at around 6:00pm (my sister and I arrived 10 minutes later). We were seated on the row closest to the bar about 2 tables behind the back wall.

Prior to my sister and I arriving, one of the two friends who were already seated, was picking her drink from the list when the lady serving them decided to walk away from the table without explanation. When we arrived, drinks for my 2 friends arrived on the table. The water (both still and sparkling mineral water) was plonked on the table and not poured for us by the same woman.

For the rest of the evening, we were not asked whether we wanted any more drinks. Indeed my sister and I were never asked by any of your staff that evening if we wanted a drink.

Despite the few people on the restaurant floor, service was generally glacial and more inattentive than it has been even when your restaurant has been packed full of people.

Even your kind courtesy of providing olives and bread was absent from our table.

I don’t know why service was so bad that evening, but it has been a continuing trend of deterioration in the quality of service over the past 8 months which one could easily let slip on the previous occasions given how busy you were. I think there may be something more endemic in the service culture, whether it be that some of the staff are not satisfied with their work environment or that staff are not getting feed back or that there is an attitude that clientele will return on the basis of your outstanding food.

I hope that this letter might encourage staff to get the basics right. If your staff have something to attend to while a person is taking a little longer than usual in picking a drink, they could say something like: “I’ll leave you to look at the drink list and come back in a moment” (and really come back in a moment), rather than just walk away. They could pour any drink that is paid for by the customer or at least ask the customer whether they would be more comfortable pouring it amongst themselves. They could also occasionally ask customers whether they would like more drinks. The latter, especially, also makes business sense.

Finally, it is that I like your restaurant so much that I could even bother with writing a letter of complaint (the first I have when it comes to a restaurant). At the moment, I don’t feel that I can risk the embarrassment of recommending the Centennial to anyone who asks me for a suggestion on where to find a good, reasonably priced meal in nice surrounds. Hopefully the service on the next visit will rectify my concerns and do justice to the quality food.

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The floor manager called an hour or so after receiving the letter, apologised profusely for the standard of service and without reservation. She also kindly provided a voucher for 2 lamb pizzas and waffles upon our next visit. The serial complainer in this instance did not request anything. A letter of complaint, even if completely and totally wanky, should always try to be constructive rather than instructive. In this case, hopefully service will pick up in this restaurant because they really do make a mean lamb pizza.

TRASHBAG FURORE

By the deputy editor – 7 December 2006

Furore has erupted in the offices of the Australian Voice following the refusal of the AV editor to admit that his work of “fiction”, a collection of emails written by an ecstasy popping twenty something male to his friends is actually the editor’s true life story and therefore one of the most comprehensive anecdotal studies into the use of methamphetamines by an established journalist in the history of Australian Print.

Having never engaged in the partaking of illicit substances, the editor of the AV was a staunch advocate of the “tough love” Salvation Army approach to drug users: Lock all of them up and throw away the keys. In 2004, writing a now legendary editorial on the Drug Sniffer Dog policy in NSW, the first of its kind in the western world, the editor of the AV remarked:

“The use of precious police resources to, as the pinko Nazis put it, ‘harass and intimidate party goers who do no harm to anyone but themselves’, is not a malicious waste of those resources. While we conservatives are firm believers in trickle down policy (i.e. give tax cuts to the richest and it will trickle down to the poor), only trickle up can work when it comes to drug policy. The drug barons of this city - selling ecstasy by the truckload to young people too busy partying than working - will not stop their hideous activity until every ‘wreckreational’ user (wrecking our stunting economy) is put in prison.

“That is why the AV supports sniffer dogs. And don’t let those in the gay press say that the police are more interested in arresting gay & lesbian people in their nightclubs than protecting them from gay bashings outside of those nightclubs. The facts may well support such a proposition but what’s more important, the safety of deviants about to fry their brains or a productive growing economy with low inflation and manageable interest rates?”

Since that editorial, the editor of the AV has been accused of homophobia and inundated with comments from drug users. One commented:

“How can you even judge this culture if you don’t accurately report on it. And what better way is there than to get in on the scene?”

Online petitions were started, but the editor of the AV didn’t budge. However, on 3 October 2005, the editor had a massive change of opinion:

“It is a disgrace that sniffer dogs are allowed to “search” random people in targeted places like train stations and nightclubs. The police are desperately needed to help protect people but this Government seems intent on protecting the community from a non existent threat – harmless party goers with glow sticks. I know this is a reversal from my previous editorials and it will come as a surprise to many readers out there, but as editor my mind has been changed by most of the independent research which demonstrates that e is not more harmful than alcohol.”

We here at the AV believed the editor’s reasons for his change of opinion. That faith was shattered when the editor approached the fiction editor with a manuscript of e-mails sent by a man in his late 20s charting a 1 year period of his life beginning with the first night he took a pill. When the fiction editor read the manuscript he told the AV’s editor that it was not possible to have been written without direct experience. As the fiction editor said:

“I simply couldn’t believe a word of his strenuously scatty denials. Looking deep into his eyes, all I could see was pupils. I reckon our editor is the one and same trashbag.”

While other papers may be embarrassed by scandalous accusations and in fighting, it is a testament to the AV’s editor that he has allowed this story to dominate the front page. Today, he issued another denial in an email to the AV staff:

“I cannot stop you from making FALSE accusations about me having engaged in the taking of illicit substances. It is obvious my work of fiction is a masterpiece since you all think it’s real. I can only thank myself for this situation. And if it was me, why would I deny it anyway since I’m pro-drugs now.”

Well, humble reader, judge this series for yourself! The first e-mail is published free of charge below:

THE TRASH-BAG CHRONICLES

To: Britt

From: Dominic

Date: 3 October 2005

Subject: THE BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE

THE BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE
Sunday 2 October 2005 (long weekend)

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way, but not much that happens in my life happens the way I think it will happen, notwithstanding my love for controlling things.

I was at Hugo’s Bar Pizza at 3pm with my sister. A bit after halfway through our half price meal - which included a glass of Moet & Chandon, a couple of pizzas, 2 Pash’s and a Watermelon Martini – We were speculating on why the Pizza bar was so quiet (usually packed by 3:30pm).

I said: “It must be sleaze. People are still partying.”

She said: “Oh yeah, I bet Andrew will be out dancing.”

She then sent a text to Andrew, who sure enough was at the Columbian. He had not gone to Sleaze, but he was there, Sylvie wanted to go for a dance, and I was buzzing from the Alcohol so said: “yeah I’ll go for a while, but I’m seeing 40 year old Virgin with the movie marathons at 11pm!”

We got there about 5pm, and it wasn’t packed but the music playing was good. I think (and I lost count), I had at least 2 Smirnoffs and an “Agwa” Cocktail.

Sylvie then advised me she was going to be sticking around Andrew all night.

Andrew swears that he’s straight – but his clothes are so gay and the way he dances is so gay, it makes me look ‘butch mesculin’. Andrew had just met these people, one of them an old man who had just come out of jail (10 year stint), and his youngish wife, Cath. Never a dull moment when you meet strangers.

At this stage I was told that e was to be had – and Andrew asked if I wanted one. Of course, I knew I couldn’t do anything in relation to e for the first time until Scott was there. I messaged Scott and he wrote back saying he was on his way and asking whether there was one for him. Kewlies. It seemed certain I was not going to be making it to the 11pm session of 40 year old Virgin!

Scott arrived and then the fun began. We had half a white pill, and then when Andrew came back with another pill, this time green.

The drug had little effect – remember I had also had a decent amount of alcohol – but what this did was sort of wake me up a little bit and my normal motor mouth went into top gear. But certainly nothing I could take from it that makes me understand why its use is so widespread in the party scene.

So obviously, this wasn’t sufficient, so we sat (as I was with Scott, there was no need to slump on gutters) at the Gilligan’s Island trashbag piss-fountain (at Taylor Square) and waited for any connections to come through. Brett, you were helpful, but the ultimate winner of providing Dom with his first fully functioning ‘e’ was “Robert”.

Being a long weekend, and Arq being Arq, which I have to say is one of the most inclusive and friendly night clubs I’ve been to (actually, that tells you nothing considering I hardly go to nightclubs), there was a massive queue. Scott scored a ticket, and went into collect the payload.

Meanwhile, Dom waited patiently for another 40 or so minutes before getting in. It was after 2am. Once in, the music was pumping and Scott was waiting. I took the pill – danced a bit, sat down for a bit, and felt the sensations come to me: The tingling in the arms, the gradual relaxation of the body (leg ache went away) and then this immense lightness which coincided perfectly with the build up of the music and hit me like an explosion when the music reached its peak and the lights in the room went off – and the colours were so much brighter and more beautiful and life was beautiful, hyper-real.

My reaction was typically wog: “oh my god!” I hugged Scott and was obviously far more outgoing than normal. The sensation all over my body was amazing too – I felt like I could scoop myself up like an icecream – actually I can’t explain it but it’s like if I poked my finger into my stomach I could feel the inside and it was good – or maybe that there was no inside or outside – it was just sensational. The feeling was so amazing that I would constantly rub my hands together while dancing to set off all that electrical goodness.

As the night wore on, Scott asked if I wanted to go to this brothel. So, I think to myself, “shit, what the hell.” We go there – Stilletos – which is a very swanky place – rooms better than 5 star hotel rooms. We were escorted into a waiting room where Scott picked a girl called Haley who was hot. He disappeared while I waited for my choice – I can’t remember her name – it could have been Kylie, a 20 year old law student from New Zealand who does this for the money! And remember, all this is happening while I’m totally off my face.

By the way, when I was in the waiting room with Scott and by myself (and I’m sure I left you a message), I wouldn’t stop dancing – I would be hearing music (I don’t know if they were playing it or if it was actually my imagination).

Ok so jumping to Kylie – she had perfectly rounded breasts which I thought couldn’t be real, although how would I know? This was only her 3rd day in the job and she wasn’t into kissing (dry kissing – how very sweet and chaste). So, one of the most basic things you can do intimately with someone was gone, plus I need to learn so that was disappointing. And to compound things of course was that my equipment let me down (literally). Now I can imagine you butting in and saying ‘well the reason is cause he’s gay’ – but even when I thought it could be for this reason, I then tried to picture men but it wasn’t working either (actually worse – which made me think that I was becoming asexual).

I was in la la land and sort of laughing to myself muttering “it’s not working.hehehe”. So, I just enjoyed touching her and having her lie down next to me. Of course it was really embarrassing because she tried for a good 5-10minutes to get some reaction out of me. The last 5 or so minutes consisted of a chat between me and Kylie while she talked to me. I apologised for her suffering at my sagging equipment and said that it must have been the combination of ecstasy and alcohol. She said, probably relieved that she had an easy 1/2hour stint, “no problems.” She told me she had tried ecstasy for the first time in her life last night (and then cocaine!). wow.

I got out of Stillettos and the sun had risen. It was 5am. Scott had been rejected, so he got nadda! And me, well, still a fucking virgin!

We then went back to Arq, where it was still pumping – left at 7:30am and went for some porn shopping. The scene was as you could imagine, incredible, Dom and Scott, the 2 porn masters in one shop – albeit looking at different categories.

As far as I’m concerned Scott’s abilities defy belief – he was awake after all of this, while I went to sleep, which was pretty disjointed. I’d love to hear Scott’s written account of what happened – because there are huge gaps of time in my memory. He says I’m more like you. Scott goes inward when he’s on drugs – it’s like he’s trying to implode the good feeling rather than me who explodes it.

I don’t think the ecstasy has worn off (if you can’t tell from my overly fruity language and preposterous similes) – or it’s making me feel a bit hazy at the moment. I still have this tingling sensation in the top of my arm and I’ve been given to subconsciously rubbing the top of my legs (don’t know what they’re called) – maybe hoping that the same orgasmic effect would happen again. And that music is etched in my mind, forever being unable to be unwritten as a core good memory that I’ll take with me for the rest of my life.

ANTHONY CALLEA'S NEW CHAPTER???
Friday 24 November 2006

By the AV Music Editor

One of my happiest memories of my childhood (that's pre October long weekend 2005), was watching Australian Idol in 2004, logging onto messenger and analysing with Brett the (increasing) campaciousness of Anthony Callea as he made his way through the competition and at the same time improved musically week in week out.

Week after week, the judges tried to counsel him on stopping the three finger tap of the mike and the slightly elevated pinky. Oh how we would lololol at the facial expressions. The 'i'm taking it for the first time' was a classic, reserved for the high moments just before a modulation. The arching of the eyebrows at the beginning of a verse was another highlight. The increasingly body hugging but light fabrics usually reserved for the post-twink mid 20s that go to Slide (even though it wasn't open then) was another give away. His delivery, his gesture, it all was so, well, gay. And then he famously said when asked to disclose something about himself that no one else knew: "That's for me to know and you to find out."

As exciting as Australian Idol was for a cynic like me (who loves cringing at out of tune singing) pre-Callea, it was more so when Callea was on. He also was the standout performer that year - the Prayer single handedly changed the competition and he followed this up with a Bridge over Troubled Waters that made Darren Marion's walk through the crowd in the school production (year 11) seem like an imitation. We know he should have won that year, but fattyboombah won - obviously the girls weren't convinced that he could possibly be interested in or singing about them? Dicko did try to out him once, but Callea chose the tortuous path of denial - and it would have offended many gay people and many young gays dealing with feelings of self hatred etc. (from the idol website):

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"I'm not gay. I don't know why people say I am. A lot of people just make up rubbish," he said.

"The same thing was levelled at (last year's winner) Guy (Sebastian)." The 21-year-old Sanctuary Lakes resident said rumours he was gay were amusing.

One fan compared watching Callea on Australian Idol to watching Play It Straight - a show where viewers attempt to guess whether participants are gay or straight.
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If Callea was not gay, he was doing a minstrel like job of it despite protesting ignorance as to why people said he was. So cut to Callea now. He has a new album out called "A NEW CHAPTER" which really does nothing to dampen the speculation but he still insists on going through a Darren Hayes period - everyone thinks he's gay but he can't say it and the longer he holds out the harder it is for him. ANd you'd think he'd try to reign in the antics but methinks he can't help it.

Today he was on Channel 7's Sunrise program and had the short cropped hair look, very loose around the chest t-shirt tucked in only at the front to reveal a big metallic belt. Yet unlike Seany B who has a semblance of masculinity coming through all that, Callea hasn't changed - the same finger tapping is evident, 'my second time was just as bad as my first time' facial expression was in force, and worse still, a flailing, limp wristed flap about the stage during the instrumental part of this tragic faux rock song (I'd label the style, "Shannon Noll Lite"). It was funnier yet seeing a few of the channel 7 female employees engaging in (what looked to me like ironic) histerical beatles fan like screaming.

You'd think this would be the perfect opportunity for him to explain away his past homophobia and with a title like a "new chapter" I thought he would explain himself. But no, no explanation.

In a perfect world, it shouldn't matter that sexuality has anything to do with the quality of music. And it is not fair to expect someone to come out before they're ready. But if you're in a position where many young people watch you and you don't want to come out, you don't have to deny it. So Callea made it the issue by issuing a denial like the one he did above. And so he should be held to a higher standard (yeah, i can hear you all say: 'cast the first stone').

And after he's done that - he then seeks the support of the gay press once his album sales have peaked and his new album might be a harder sell and the girls have moved on to the next idol. So, the "rubbish rumours" callea is now the "gay-friendly" callea trying to make inroads into the gay market. It's shameless and that's business but why should the Sydney Star Observer fall for it (SX hasn't)? It reminds me of Nikki Webster doing Play Boy when she's past her used by date. What that says about the judgment of the SSO is self explanatory. And here's how the SSO dresses it all up:

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Persistent gay rumours have dogged Callea since his Idol days, yet in the past he’s chosen to stay mum on the topic [dom note: not true - he's denied - why not confront him about his implicit homophpobia and whether it was self hatred?].

Considering the rumours have been around for so long, and how comfortable he was chatting to a gay and lesbian paper [publicity], there seemed no harm in asking.

Callea smiled and without skipping a beat said: “At the end of the day there’s part of me – friends, family and relationships – that I have to keep private and personal. There has to be an element that you keep to yourself.

“My friends, family and relationships are stuff I’m not going to get into. In particular my family – they love and support me and you need to keep part of your life separate to keep you sane. That’s why I feel strongly about that.”
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And that - that should have been what Callea said back in 2004.