No Thanks For Sharing

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Thanks for Sharing is Director Stuart Blumberg’s Hollywood debut. An ensemble film starring Mark Ruffalo, Gwyneth Paltrow, Tim Robbins, and Alecia Moore (better known as Pink) it's pitched as a ‘dramedy’, or drama-comedy to us lay-folks, about sex addiction. However, Thanks for Sharing never quite manages to achieve either the ‘drama’ or the ‘comedy’ aspects successfully enough to combine the two. Some of the most powerful stories are those that manage to offset utter tragedy with just the right level of humour to hammer home the message - Thanks for Sharing is not an example of this. This film is not what you think it is, judging by the poster anyway.

Thanks for Sharing theatrical poster

I had a number of issues with this film, but mostly I was bothered by the superficial way in which the impact of addition on other people is almost entirely glossed over. Take, for example, Mike’s (Robbins) long suffering wife (Joely Richardson) and son (Patrick Fugit). In a passing discussion we learn he has given his wife Hepatitis-C and all too briefly we learn that the reason his son has gone off the deep-end is due to being the constant subject of negativity and rage from a father who is a violent drunk. Nor do we know why Phoebe (Paltrow) refuses to date another addict beyond her statement that it’s all too complicated.

In truth, the film doesn't even consider the real impact addiction can have on the addicts themselves. We don’t really know what Adam (Ruffalo) has been through to get to his five years, although we do briefly see how superficial his sobriety is. But it’s not sobriety so much as it is outright exclusion from modern life in many respects. Continuing with the superficiality, we have no real concept of Dede’s (Moore) experience beyond her introductory statement that without 'another way' she’d end up killing herself. Powerful stuff but it is left hanging. This, unfortunately though, is the only way this film can deal with anything that can’t be pointed and laughed at.

And this is where I have a fundamental problem. Worse than the treatment of those characters already described is the lack of acknowledgement that the character of Neil (Josh Gad), a doctor and someone in a position of power and trust is actually a sexual deviant. He has been up on some sort of charges relating to his ‘addiction’ as he is attending group sessions not voluntarily but because a court ordered him to do so. Given that in some American states you can be put on a sexual predator list for having a wee outdoors, I fail to understand how he is allowed back into the ward at all.

It’s also scary to think that the tapes he destroys later in the film are videos he has shot himself. Of what, and of whom is not actually revealed but the path we are led down is a frightening one. Instead, Neil is played as the misunderstood lovable rogue, with no consideration of the impacts on those whom he has violated for his own gratification either on public transport, as patients or as colleagues. And I'm sorry, but he’s not going to go from a chronic up-skirting habit to burning tapes and singing Kum-ba-ya in what, thirty days?

It’s really not clear what the film is trying to achieve with the character of Phoebe. Her obsessions are obviously intended to present a contrast to Adam's, with Phoebe’s presented as eccentric, quirky and a bit weird while Adam’s are apparently beyond his own control. Here’s the thing though, Phoebe’s preoccupation with health, fitness and food appear to be motivated by an actual disease, being cancer, while Adam’s constant referral to his own obsession as a 'disease' presents a degree of self-righteousness and arrogance in the character, almost a sense of my suffering is worse than your suffering, which eventually comes to undermine their relationship.

Competent casting means that there is nothing wrong with the performances. Ruffalo plays his Adam as charming for the most part, until he adopts the victim mentality and we see glimpses of a potential arsehole. Robbins delivers some absolute clangers with conviction, however in an effort to be perpetually Zen his character is one dimensional in situations where you’d think he’d be far more multifaceted. The rest of the cast is equally competent but restrained. On the whole the film and its characters suffer from this idea that the middle classes cannot be anything other than one emotion, all of the time, and plays this as being normal.

And thoroughly middle class this film is. Even Pink’s ‘alternative’ character has a day job in a hipster hair salon. It deals with none of the underlying causes of addiction, nor does it look into the consequences of addiction in any meaningful way. But then how could a dramedy, really? All you need to know is that middle class life is hard.

Thanks for Sharing is in cinemas October 3.


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Nothing Here is Vegetarian: Hannibal Season One

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Before we begin, you must all be warned, nothing here is vegetarian…

hannibal season one review

Bryan Fuller is no stranger to death. His series Dead Like Me detailed the after-life and times of grim reapers in Seattle. The visually incredible Pushing Daisies presents almost as a fairy tale, the story a pie-maker with the ability to revive the dead. Heck, he has even called his production company Living Dead Guy! So who better to execute a portrayal of the pre-Silence of the Lambs, pre-Red Dragon Hannibal Lecter?

Immortalised by Anthony Hopkins in the 1991 thriller Silence of the Lambs, reviving such an iconic figure comes with the huge expectation and the very real risk of failing to measure up. Fortunately, Fuller and his team manage to pull it off. For me, this reimagining is far more sinister, aided by the restrained and controlled portrayal of Danish actor Mads Mikkelsen, but then this is a depiction of the character at a different stage in the storyline.

Hannibal manages to sustain a sense of distance between the detailed 'design' of the murders and Lecter's involvement. The audience never directly sees him performing these horrific deeds, but he seems to know too much. His implied participation enough.

In this respect there is a conflict between the known and the unknown for the observer of this long-form Lecter story. I know Lecter is a psychopath. I know he is a cannibal. However, the characters with whom he interacts, for the most part, do not. I watch him feed them gourmet meals featuring exotic cuts of meat. I listen to him discuss the details of horrific murders while displaying no emotional response. I know things that make this story ten times worse than the characters within it, creating a tension that compels me to watch on despite knowing it will all, at some point, go very wrong.

He is inherently evil, or at least he comes across that way. His calmness and callousness are juxtaposed brilliantly with the inner and outer torment of Will Graham, played by Brit Hugh Dancy. While Graham is in constant battle with his demons, Lecter has long since accepted them, even harnessed them. Graham becomes his personal play thing, whose life he near destroys for his own curiosity. However, Lecter does slowly reveal elements of his true self, albeit in a manner that is both calculated and deliberate, and which goes unobserved by most around him.

hannibal season one review

The imagery of Hannibal is, at times, both horrific and beautiful. As much as I want to look away, the aesthetic portrayal of these graphic and violent crimes is simultaneously compelling and stomach churning. The players that support the Lecter/Graham slow waltz are convincing, in particular Laurence Fishburne as Special Agent Jack Crawford, who is blissfully ignorant of the psychopathic tendencies of the man with whom he occasionally shares a meal.
 
Apparently Fuller has plans for seven series of Hannibal culminating with the events of the Thomas Harris novels only after the first four are completed. With relatively low ratings, it’s a positive that the show has been re-commissioned for a second season. Hopefully networks are beginning to realise that there are other mechanisms for capitalising on television series, such as downloadable content or DVD sales. But that’s another story…

Hannibal is not for the faint-hearted, or more accurately, faint-stomached, but the first season is out now on DVD and Blu-ray.


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Swiss Precision: A Weekend in Zürich

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On the surface Zürich is exactly what you’d expect it to be. Modern infrastructure set against a backdrop of stunning mountains, a picturesque lake, residential areas that look like Hansel and Gretel grew up and became property developers, all randomly interspersed with paddocks and dairy cows.

It has everything you want in a European city – quaint alleyways, cheese, wine bars, cheese, artisan bread, cheese, preserved meat, fancy beer, cheese, chocolate truffles, and cheese with bacon bits!

travel tips and experiences: zurich, switzerland

Public transport runs like it should – on time – and if the tram/train is even one minute late, emphatic and genuine apologies are issued.

It is also incredibly clean, so much so that when I arrived into rich airport I was struck by a familiar yet unexpected smell that took me a moment to place. You know that aroma you get when you open a box of new trainers? Yeah, the airport smells like that.  

citybreak zurich switzerland

The people are fit, polite, bilingual, eat like gods, smoke like the devil and are everything I am not (read, dull). Children are well behaved, the crime rate is low, and as for the one and only homeless guy I saw, I actually suspect this is his lifestyle choice, a loner bucking the trend, no doubt with his trusty Swiss Army knife in tow.

Whilst it may sound idyllic, could I actually live in Zürich? Hells to the no! As I said, this is Zürich on the surface. And it’s the perception you would have if you were an ordinary tourist dropping in for a citybreak with little opportunity to dig much deeper, because while the Swiss are lovely, clever, innovating people, they are somewhat backward in coming forward on the human interaction front. Lucky for me, my host for the weekend was a good friend and fellow Aussie who now happens to live here.  


Early into our 12 year friendship we discussed his dream of marrying a Swiss lady (or Swedish, or German...basically a blonde with an accent).  Three years ago a friend of a friend emailed asking if she could stay with him while holidaying in Melbourne. She was Swiss, and the rest, as they say, is history.

My first question to him when we meet is, ‘what makes everyone so civilised?’ ‘Well…’ he begins…

Just the week before he had attended a dinner party at the home of his Swiss wife’s cousin in Bern. A relatively civilised affair – six guests chatting around a dinner table over some wine and, no doubt, cheese – they were interrupted at 10:30 on a Saturday night by a squad of riot police, ‘there’s been a noise complaint, reports of a loud party’. Standard procedure, apparently. What do you expect of an over funded police force in a city that has next to no crime?   


I also learn that the washing machine in the communal laundry has a curfew.  Put your whites on after 7pm and expect a stern note under your door in the morning from neighbours complaining about the disruption. And you think you have mortgage stress? In Switzerland, when you pay off your mortgage you have to pay tax on the earning potential of the property as though you were renting it out, even though you’re still living in it. Perhaps this is why that guy I mentioned earlier decided to be homeless.

It probably comes as no surprise that Zürich is also very expensive; $20 for a vodka, lime and soda anyone? Perhaps that shop assistant wasn’t racist rather simply explaining that no one can afford to shop along Bahnhofstrasse, not even Oprah. Despite my apparent chocolate addiction (someone send me some Haigh's, please) I just couldn't justify 20 francs on a bar, not a block mind you, of praline from the specialty store. That said, European supermarkets have become my own personal amusement park, so on a visit to one I didn't hold back in the chocolate isle and what can only be described as a wall of cheese! I'm still disgruntled that Airport security wouldn’t let me out with my toothpaste-like-tube of mayonnaise.   


Zürich is pleasant, it's pretty, and lives up to the expected Swiss precision. Seriously, even the swans glide majestically across the busy lake in a single file military procession. Whilst I felt safe, there is a sense of unease about the city. It's synonymous with the vibe you get when visiting an OCD relative – you don't trust yourself to sit on their white couch and never know what to say for fear of crossing some imaginary, yet probably still socially appropriate, line. 

 

A few days in Zürich had me looking forward to returning to grit of London. Apparently I find comfort in disorganisation and loud mouthed scousers – it adds character and colour after all. Cultural differences aside, the raclette (kind of like fondue) and a few too many chocolate samples, had caught up with me and I needed to split before my jeans did.




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Am I Old Yet?

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I can’t escape the fact that I am fast approaching thirty.

Now, I know it’s not exactly what you would call old in the scheme of things, or at least I hope you wouldn’t, but for some reason entering your thirties feels like a point where a lot of things will change. We leave behind the carefree days of our twenties and often find ourselves taking on responsibilities and obligations like mortgages, marriages, and kids (although not necessarily in that order).


They say there are a lot of 'advantages' to being in your thirties, like more self-confidence; having smaller, closer groups of friends; getting somewhere in your career; maybe even finding your ‘life partner’ or becoming parents. But as my friends and I discussed at a recent thirtieth birthday party, there are some common tell tale signs that you have started the transition to becoming old (and maybe, dare I say it, a bit like your parents):

1. A ‘big night’ is leaving a bar/club/ party around midnight, just as your younger friends are starting to arrive.
2. Hangovers from said big nights no longer mean feeling a bit seedy, but involve days of dark sunglasses, no loud noises and Berocca for recovery.
3. You buy clothes for their warmth, comfort and practicality rather than to make fashion and style statements. Seriously, where the hell can I find a coat with a decent wool content these days?
4. You drink wine that costs above $20 a bottle and eagerly discuss the ‘blackberry notes’ and ‘smoothness of flavour’.
5. You enjoy blue cheese.
6. You spend most of your weekends at weddings, baby showers or birthday parties for the offspring of friends.
7. A get together with more than three friends is no longer a spontaneous gathering at the local pub, instead taking months of meticulous planning and several rounds of date/time/venue deliberations.
8. They remake your favourite television shows or movies, and teenagers call the originals ‘retro’.
9. An expansion on point 8; flavour of the month boy bands cover your favourite tunes and ruin them. Worse still, their fans have never heard the originals. Who is The Who, anyway?
10. What the hell is YOLO? Totes!
11. You take up gardening, sewing, crafts, photography, furniture restoration, baking or gourmet cooking.
12. You listen to new music on the radio and lament that it all sounds the same.
13. You remember using VHS tapes fondly, when really, they were crap. Oh, and the Betamax debate, you remember that.
14. You realise the 1980s was thirty years ago, and kids born in the early 1990s are now adults.
15. And where the hell is my hoverboard?


So there it is. If six or more of these ring true for you then I’m sorry but you are no longer young, hip and happening but are now transitioning into an old fart.

But on the bright side, at least you’re not in your forties (apparently that’s a whole other list).


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Happy Birthday Bill Murray

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Apparently today, 21 September is Bill Murray's birthday. Happy birthday Mr Murray.


Best known in recent times for crashing parties, events and other peoples lives, and generally living the life of a man in his early twenties (I hesitate to say 'again', as I'm pretty sure that's how he did it the first time round), Murray is a staple of pre-2000 Ivan Reitman films and Wes Anderson's into the noughties.

Not aware of his work (who are you and where have you been???), well, get your butt over to this infographic from SDRS Creative.

I suddenly have a desperate need to re-watch Stripes...

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Adventure Time: Jake vs Me-Mow

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Warning: The following review contains spoilers.
 
If you haven’t seen it, Adventure Time is an animated series about a boy named Finn and a magic dog named Jake. As a baby Finn was found in the forest by Jake’s parents who raised them together. Now Finn is 12 and Jake is 28 in magical dog years, and they are best bros.
 
So far, there are five series and each episode is an adventure Finn and Jake have been on – going through dungeons, fighting evil trolls and of course, avoiding the Ice King (because no one likes the Ice King).
 

I have two favourite episodes from this DVD. But the best one is also the episode that the DVD is named after, Jake vs Me-Mow. In this episode Finn and Jake are eating pies with Wild Berry Princess who is about to be assassinated by Me-Mow, the trainee assassin. Jake unknowingly eats the pie that Me-Mow is hiding in, which was meant for Wild Berry Princess. Me-Mow has poison that could kill Jake in one full injection.

Me-Mow blackmails Jake into trying to assassinate the Princess himself. Jake tries to fake assassinating Wild Berry Princess, but that doesn’t fool Me-Mow. So Me-Mow injects poison into Jake’s blood stream. Jake is in pain and Finn doesn’t know what is going on because Jake can’t tell him or he’ll DIE!

Me-Mow comes tumbling out and Finn figures it all out. Finn and Me-Mow go head-to-head “GIVE ME THE ANTIDOTE” screams Finn. “YOU MEAN THIS” said Me-Mow as she smashes it into a tree. Jake is too sick to go to the tree. “That poison is enough to kill a dog 50 time your size” said Me-Mow. Jake thought for a moment – I’m a magic dog, I can grow to 51 times my size, whooooop, Jake is cured.

This episode was my favourite because I like cats and it was really funny to see a tiny, cute assassin cat trying to kill the Wild Berry Princess and Jake.

There are 16 episodes on the Adventure Time: Jake vs Me-Mow DVD, which I recommend to anyone who likes crazy and random cartoons.

Adventure Time: Jake vs Me-Mow is available through Madman Entertainment.

- Matthew Fargher
(Matthew is 11)

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R.I.P.D. Off

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R.I.P.D. (Rest In Peace Department) or ‘Men in Black from beyond the grave’ is based on a graphic novel of the same name, which I'd never heard of before the movie. Nowadays whenever someone tells me ‘hey, it's based on a graphic novel’, it’s with some trepidation that I go along, and I almost always leave the theatre of the opinion that it should have stayed a graphic novel.

Look, it isn't all crap. The internal consistency of the R.I.P.D. world is solid, the acting is ok, and there are a couple of neat action scenes. But that's all the nice it's gonna get from me.


Here’s the low down: Some time in the past, Nick Walker (Ryan Reynolds) and partner Bobby Hayes (Kevin Bacon) stumbled upon some gold during a drug bust and split the findings. Walker is now apprehensive and wants to turn it in. While on a raid, Hayes corners Walker, reveals that he can't let him handover the gold, and kills him.

On his way to eternal judgement, Walker is yanked from his ascension and given a job tracking down ‘Deados’ (spirits that somehow slipped through the system and continue to walk the Earth avoiding judgement) to arrest them for processing. He is partnered with a cranky old Marshall from the 1800s who prefers to work alone (Jeff Bridges). The two must track down and arrest rogue Deados while disguised as a senile Asian man and a hooker, which is played for a few cheap laughs that quickly wear thin.

Deados look like any average human, but are really just bad CGI in disguise, which, when they get a whiff of curry powder, go all Jar-Jar Binks and gimmick out for your 3D viewing pleasure.

What begins as an interesting premise quickly degenerates into a film that's confused about how to shoe-horn adult themes, like drug busts, death and rampaging destruction, into kid-friendly Disney-esque slapstick. It plays on so many conventions you can almost hear the committee decisions that went into every scene. Hero had a wife he loved? Boo-hoo. His ex-partner turns out to be the Big Bad? Surprise. Cops are taken off the case only to disobey a direct order and solve it anyway? I now believe lazy film-makers do this just to fast-track a resolution.

What actually bugs me the most about R.I.P.D., though, is the CGI. It is a real step back in technique and technology. The design of the Deados makes no sense and when one has been revealed it isn't so much scary as annoyingly stupid. They are lumbering buffoons, not fear-inducing zombie thugs, which is what I think they were going for.

If you do inflict this film on yourself, you'll walk out wondering wha..? Huh? I... no... wha..?

You have been warned.



R.I.P.D is currently in cinemas.

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Looking for Solutions in Alderaan Places

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On 4 October, Ireland goes to the polls. Yet another referendum - Ireland has lots, any time they want to change something that's mandated by the Constitution, it takes a referendum, and if they don't get the right result the first time, they go back - this time to consider the abolition of the Seanad (that's the Senate to you and me).

I'm not Irish and I cannot vote - neither can my Irish husband, much to his disdain as although still a citizen not being a resident apparently means his opinion is no longer valid - but I can't help but wonder whether the abolition of the Senate is a good idea (and the Stormtrooper below appears to agree with me). The role performed by an upper house in the parliament is one of checks and balances on the Executive government. Having one party in power and only one house through which any legislation must pass strikes me as potentially dangerous, especially with a majority government. At the very least a functional Senate should bring some degree of compromise and a need to negotiate before any new laws are made, making those in the lower house work for the people whom they allegedly represent.

I don't disagree that there isn't room for improvement, in the Irish political system there most certainly is. Possibly opening up the Seanad to some form of democratic election would assist in ensuring the perception is not that those in the upper house are there by some divine right, or as a hangover of privileged class, rather representative of the best interests of the Irish people.

The argument in favour seems to be one of cost, and with this referendum called just prior to the release of the next Budget, one wonders how much the government had been hoping to boost the numbers through the Seanad's abolition. Decisions as important as this should not be based on cost alone, but considerate of the other side of the ledger, what benefit has the Seanad brought the Irish people? Nothing is free, and Ireland, which has suffered greatly at the hands of the greedy in recent years, should know. However, what you might not know is that since 2011, the Seanad has made 529 amendments and tabled 14 Bills, most of which have been pursued with little to no fanfare but with some degree of effectiveness.

If you don't know what the Seanad has done for Ireland then now is the opportunity to investigate before you vote on 4 October. That is, of course if you choose to do so.

Your Friendly Neighbourhood Stormtrooper

Your Friendly Neighbourhood Stormtrooper
Your Friendly Neighbourhood Stoormtrooper
Your Friendly Neighbourhood Stormtrooper










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What Time Is It...?

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Is this your Sunday afternoon in?

 -Caitlin Major

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Don't Mention the Election

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First let me be clear, I don’t vote based on who I voted for last time. I believe political parties change, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. When it comes down to who has my vote I look for real change, not just change to the name of the person running things. Real change.


For me, this year, it was marriage equity that tipped the scale. As a man who has found the woman of his dreams through an almost When Harry Met Sally series of fortunate events and will marry in December, I really wanted to see that basic human right extended to any two people who love each other. Not only love each other, but feel loved by their country and its representatives.

Of course there are other considerations: fast internet, investment in infrastructure, and the treatment of refugees or as our new Prime Minister calls them - ‘boat people’. Everyone has to weight these up when they decide how to vote. But here’s the thing, your vote is not just about you. It’s about what’s best for the country and its people. All of its people.

You could say that I expected everyone to vote like me, but it’s not true, I expected them to vote for what was right. As a result of the election I got angry. And when I mentioned on Facebook that I was shocked to find that a relative had voted for the Liberals, they started coming out of the woodwork. My cousin attacked me for calling my relatives idiots, saying that I had no real world experience, and that I didn’t run a business so how could I possibly know what it’s like, out there, in the real world? As a freelance artist and self-publisher, how could I possibly know?

My aunt popped up and demanded that I apologise to my hard working relatives, who never received handouts and work bloody hard for everything they have. I did. I said I was sorry they voted against marriage equality, infrastructure investment and a sensible approach to the economy.


In that moment I remembered a saying my father used to apply to my aunt: she could fall head first into a bucket of shit and come out with a gold nugget between her teeth. A colourful image, but very apt. I am not saying that they haven’t worked hard as I know they have and do, but their success has had a great deal to do with being in the right place at the right time. The part about never taking handouts is ridiculous. We all have healthcare, paid parental leave, assistance one way or another. I am sure they have at some point taken some form of benefit. But apparently, according to my aunt, anyone who ever took money from the government is a crook; how very Gina of her.

The one I fail to understand is my own sister, who voted Liberal because Labor was rumoured to be decommissioning the Air Force base where her partner is employed, which would force them to move again. The problem I have with this logic is that, regardless of location, for as long as he wants to work for the RAAF he has a job. So is it about the cost of moving? With moves of Defence Force personnel paid for by tax payers, no, that can’t be it. In fact, she doesn’t even have to do the packing. I just don’t get it.

So, while I was utterly disappointed with Australia over the weekend, I was even moreso with my family. It very quickly became apparently to me that their thinking was misinformed, selfishly motivated and a vote for change for its own sake, the latter of which to me is like eating horse shit because you don’t like chicken. Extreme, to say the least.

You crossed the line first, sir. You squeezed them; you hammered them to the point of desperation. And in their desperation, they turned to a man they didn’t fully understand. Thank you Michael Caine’s Alfred Pennyworth in The Dark Knight.

The icing on the social media outrage cake though, did not come from family but an old school friend’s mum. Paraphrased below, I think succinctly conveyed the essence of what was wrong with the Australian economy under the Labor Government. See my tongue firmly in my cheek, hers not so much.

I have a property in Spain and although unemployment is high there, my place overlooking the Mediterranean Sea costs me much less in rates and electricity than here, and the place in Spain is worth two thirds of mine here, yet my electricity here is three times the price and there’s only me…two people rent my place in Spain and my rates cost me the same for a quarter as what I pay for a month here and I’ve got a much better view in Spain.

My cousin in England just bought a 2006 Jaguar at the equivalent of $26,000, that same car here is $95,000 due to luxury tax. It only costs approximately $5,000 in shipping costs, so who gets the rest, Rudd wasn’t giving it to the gays towards their marriage.

An Angus steak costs less in the UK and Spain than here, half as much. Then, I obtain cigarettes in Gibraltar (tax free) for $20 per carton, what do they cost here? Not that I smoke, but many do and they can if they wish, but the Labor government changed the law in September last year, we can only bring in two packets now, rather than two cartons. I’ve taken a third pay cut to obtain work and I don’t complain, instead I vote for what is good for this country and if Labor had got in, my dogs and I were going to get out. Might still do if the poor Libs can’t get this debt ridden country out of the shit quick enough. Australia the lucky country my arse!

My heart weeps.

-Paul Briske

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Blue Jasmine: A Review

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To be honest, had I known Blue Jasmine was a Woody Allen film I probably wouldn’t have gone along to see it. I haven’t switched on an Allen film since the first ten or so minutes of 2005’s Match Point, so it would have been with extreme trepidation that I’d have given another a go with fair warning.
Funnily enough, Blue Jasmine is the quintessential Allen film, which I still hadn’t cottoned onto until after the film, when I had to be told and it came as a bit of an ‘aha’ moment. But it’s Allen at his best, and is more akin to his 1970s/80s work than anything more recent.

Cate Blanchett plays Jasmine, who was married to Hal (Alec Baldwin) until his investments and her marriage went belly up and she lost everything. This sees her land on her sister Ginger’s (Sally Hawkins) doorstep with her Louis Vuitton cases piled high but utterly broke and quite mad. Through a series of flashbacks the sorry tale that is the collapse of Jasmine’s marriage and her mind is revealed.

Having never been to either, I’m pretty sure Allen’s San Francisco is more New York than it is San Fran. That aside, the story is one based on a certain kind of voyeurism that compels us to bear witness to the progressive downfall of someone we all hope is kind of deserving of their own fate. It’s watching the fall from grace of someone who is predominantly unsympathetic and unlikeable, but an accurate characterisation of The Real Housewives of [insert random American metropolis here]. I hate her, but I desperately want to see what happens to her, and secretly want it to all go very, very wrong.

The film is skilfully acted, with Blanchett an absolute stand out in a very theatrical portrayal of a woman unable to come to terms with the loss of the lifestyle to which she had become accustomed, or that of her own mind. Hawkins portrayal of the sister left behind is genuine, even when she’s doing what she can to help her sister despite the damage Jasmine has previously caused her – because that’s what family does. The dynamic between the two sisters, who have been separately adopted from different biological families, makes for interesting motivation, especially given the circumstances in which they find themselves, and Allen handles it well. 

Bobby Cannavale as Ginger’s boyfriend, Andrew Dice Clay as Ginger’s former husband, Peter Sarsgaard as Jasmine’s potential new suitor, and Louis C.K. as Ginger’s momentary lapse in judgement all offer up strong support.

Blue Jasmine is in cinemas from September 12.

-Stevie O'C

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Breaking Bad - The End is Nigh

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Imagine a 10 second TV ad that had just one picture with a date below it. Pretty vague right? Say that picture was of a 50 something bald man with glasses and a goatee. I can guarantee that a hell of a lot of people would see that image and instantaneously lose their damn minds with the anticipation.
http://blogs.amctv.com/breaking-bad

In this country, at least, that is not how people will be receiving the news. As a nation that does not like to pay for cable TV, shows like Breaking Bad are the forefront of the ‘download illegally, binge watch and tell your friends’ trend. It comes as no surprise that Australia now has the dubious honour of having the most illegal downloads of episode 9.

The growing mainstream popularity of Breaking Bad is an interesting phenomenon. Making a hero of a man who is producing vast quantities of methamphetamine is a tricky task, but it’s the characters and their motivations that have made the show so enthralling. Everyone is given very human flaws and as circumstances change you are forced to reassess your opinions of them, none more so than of Bryan Cranston’s Walter White.

Watching Walter’s transformation from a massively uncool high school science teacher to a ruthless drug baron has been a fascinating and confusing ride. At first you sympathise with him and want him to succeed, despite the illegality of his plans. However, over the course of the show, on the road to the top of the trade, he succumbs to the greed and ruthlessness of the people he tried to avoid. The genius of it is he retains enough humanity and does not become an unbelievably cartoonish villain, but it’s a very, very, fine line.

Throughout its run Breaking Bad has presented a masterfully constructed cluster bomb of genuinely surprising plot twists, subtle character development and universally excellent performances from the cast. What makes it truly addictive, though, is its unpredictability. From one season to the next are left with a cliff hanger that just leads to a new world of chaos. If I had a bag of Blue for every time I told myself ‘this isn’t going to end well’, I’d never sleep again.

The last episodes of Breaking Bad will undoubtedly build to one of the best TV finales of all time, and I’d bet cold hard cash money that there will be at more than a few ‘oh my god I don’t believe what the fuck just happened’ moments.

I have no idea how it will all end and I don’t want to just yet. I’m fairly sure Vince Gilligan has the entire cast locked up in a spoiler proof bunker deep under the Mojave Desert but just in case I’ll wait till it’s all done and watch the whole thing in a weekend with a bagful of junk food. Hell, I might even buy it this time…

- Dan Brokenborough 


http://blogs.amctv.com/breaking-bad

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Go F*ck Yourself Tom Hiddleston

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For those of you who aren't aware and think I just really really don't like Thor and Avengers actor Tom Hiddleston, there is actually a tumblr called Go F*ck Yourself Tom Hiddleston, which is based around the fact that Tom Hiddleston is actually a really really decent guy (it may also be a little bit about how he looks nice in pants, also).

tom hiddleston and cookie monster
So nice, in fact, that he recently taught the Cookie Monster about how sometimes when you wait for something, when you do finally get it, it's way better than if you just stuff your face.

Thank you for this lesson, Tom.

-Stevie O'C



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Calculated Theatre - The Derren Brown Experience

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On a hot, humid, London evening I sweated my way to The Palace Theatre in London’s West End for Derren Brown’s 2013/2014 live show, Infamous
http://derrenbrown.co.uk/blog/db-news/
London’s problem, in the midst a heat wave (otherwise known as summer) is it’s disturbing lack of air conditioning, so when I rolled into Shaftsbury Avenue I was dehydrated, delirious and hungry – basically mentally vulnerable to someone in the biz of messing with people’s heads.

Excited by the prospect of box seats I felt a bit posh; however it soon became clear that the description of ‘box’ was all too literal. Before we could attempt to make ourselves comfortable, and to ensure my posh fantasy was completely quashed, many other theatre patrons mistook our box for the bar. Their obvious disappointment did nothing for my state of weariness. 

From the outset, I had no idea who this Derren Brown fellow was, and after his show I am none the wiser. Made all the more difficult, I’m reviewing a show that I’m supposed to keep it a secret, so future audiences get to share in the ‘surprise’.

I left with more questions than answers. Or more correctly, the same question applied multiple times: what the fuck just happened?

Brown claims not to be a psychic, but is apparently a maths genius – he’s like Australia’s Adam Spencer on crack (picture a slighter, shorter, creepier version). Spencer has always made mathematics so accessible, yet delivered in a higher than life fashion (see his TED talk), whereas Brown seems to have free-based a few too many algorithms that even the most experienced arthimetist would say ‘oh that shit’s fucked up’.  At best I would describe him as an equations junkie meets Simon Baker’s Mentalist, sans the sex appeal (at least to this lassie - he wore two layers of tweed and is quick to inform he bats for blokes).  

Brown is vigilant about the probity check of each ‘trick’, making it clear it’s practically impossible to set up them up. He shares card tricks, explains why he is banned from casinos (don’t ask, I didn’t understand that part either...oh wait, that’s right, I’m not supposed to say) and apparently hypnotised a young lad who felt ‘completely changed’ (not sure from what to what). So nothing really revolutionary there, but days after I am still puzzled by his various equations and how they related to various audience members. Seriously, how could he possibly know that American girl had a pug called Pickles?  

At the end of the show I was too blown away by what he did to not one but three Rubik’s cubes to applaud. Perhaps it was the dehydration. But I clapped up a storm when asked if there was a bin behind the bar.

Unable to wrap my head around it all, I consoled my mind by concluding that Brown is some kind of extreme savant who, in real life despite his unexplainable brilliance suffers the curse of really, really smart people – he’s a right bastard (of course this is based in nothing but my personal opinion). He might be able to work out my phone number by throwing a dice, but surely he can’t also be nice

Derren Brown's 'not suitable for children under 12' Infamous will be touring the UK and Ireland in 2014. Details: http://derrenbrown.co.uk

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Rock n Roll Wannabe

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Like many with good intentions I bought an acoustic guitar because ‘someday’ I was going to learn to play. Instead, for a couple of years, it became a hipster accessory, gathering dust in the corner of my lounge room, looking cool but sadly under utilised. However, at the start of 2013 I decided to make learning guitar my New Year’s resolution.

So why does a girl in her late twenties with no musical experience suddenly decide to learn the guitar? I’ve never been in a band and haven’t touched an instrument since the Yamaha recorder in 1994 (although back then I could really rock a rendition of Hot Cross Buns). So, I guess the reason is: because I could. Life had become a lot like Groundhog Day, and I needed something to shake it up a bit. That something is my guitar.

I decided to try group lessons, which I thought would be much less confronting than the solo kind. My teacher isn’t scary, but like a kindly primary school music teacher (maybe because he is a kindly primary school music teacher).However, what is embarrassing about learning in a group is when you have a steel string guitar (like me), which plays louder than nearly everyone else with nylon strings, and you hit the wrong note (like me, often).

I didn’t even know there was a difference, and when asked if mine was steel, answered ‘no, I own mine’.

Actually, the most intimidating part of learning an instrument is not even the lessons; it’s going into music shops. When you wander in, there’s some middle-aged bloke with a pot belly and black Def Leppard t-shirt who finally decides to serve you after you’ve been standing there for a sufficiently uncomfortable amount of time. You know what he’s thinking. He’s thinking, ‘you don’t belong here’. Ok, so I have no idea that soft guitar cases are called ‘gig bags’ but do you really have to correct me on that?

Anyway, I’m proud to say I’m slowly building up a repertoire of campfire songs and elevator music, including such classics like Greensleeves and Minuet in G. Even though it really hasn’t made me any cooler, I’m so glad I’ve started to learn to play the guitar. There’s just something about plucking those strings after a long day at work that helps you relax. And you never know, I might even graduate to learning an actual, real, rock n’roll song one day. Stay tuned.

-Eliza Murphy

The always inspiring, John Lennon

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