I love Christopher Nolan. He is without doubt my favourite director. 'Memento' and 'The Prestige' certainly rate in my list of favourite films - I even own them on DVD (for those who know me, I have a very small, select DVD collection of movies I'd watch again and again). Another I'll be adding when it comes out is 'Inception', Nolan's latest blockbuster.
Now, the word 'blockbuster' is quite a deceptive word. It implies brainless action and a big budget. I'm going to take out 'brainless' from that inference because what you get from 'Inception' is something that has been thought out very carefully but shaped into a heist thriller entirely relevant for the medium. It is one of the very few movies around that has not come from a book, a graphic novel, a TV show, another movie, someone's life or an actual event, so it wins on originality.
The second area it excels in is the narrative style. Nolan focuses on the protagonist, Dom Cobb (Leonardo di Caprio), such that during the film we discover more about him than any other character. This is his film. Essentially it's the story of Cobb, who specialises in stealing ideas when victims are in a dream state. After a job goes wrong, he is hired to complete a more difficult task - to plant an idea - to pay his way home.
Nolan is firm about the rules of the dream world: who is dreaming, who is populating the dream and how and what happens when you wake up. This means, when you watch carefully, everything actually makes sense no matter how confusing it may appear at first. This is very important because it allows the audience to suspend any disbelief despite the fact that you'd expect disbelief in a movie about dreams. There's no obscure reasoning hiding in trickery here.
Lastly, the casting is extraordinary in this film, which meant that the characters were quite vivid despite the fact that it is Cobb's film. And the reason it is Cobb's film becomes apparent in the ambiguous ending (no spoilers here), which is trademark Nolan. Never has sitting in a grey area been so comfortable.
'Inception' was style, substance, people who could act and authenticity all in the one film and deserves all the praise and hype it has been getting.
Film rating: 9/10
Enjoyment rating: 10/10
01 August, 2010
21 April, 2010
It's Beijing but not as I dreamt it
place not too far from the hotel (they still hired two buses for us
all, though). The pic shown here isn't mine, it's stolen from the NY
Times but I took an almost identical picture that I can't seem to get
off my camera because it's on the camera memory, not the SD card. It
had very Melbourne decor, as you can see, sort of like a cross between
Cookie and Order of Melbourne. Fortunately it wasn't a long night so
here I am and it's has only just gone 10pm.
Okay, the saga yesterday. Forget for a moment that I went to bed at
about 1.30am and woke up at 5.45am. I made it to the airport via train
okay, then had to spend about 10 minutes trying to figure out how I'd
fit my roller bag into my yellow sack when I went to Japan before
realising that I'd tried to put it in the wrong way. I checked in, and
only then discovered that the front part of the sole of my shoe had
come loose so it was flapping when I walked. I went around the
terminal looking for sticky tape and the guy at the Lonely Planet
store suggested getting medical tape at the chemist.
It was a brilliant idea, brilliant until I unfurled the tape and then
discovered that it didn't just rip like I thought it would. So I
hobbled around trying to find someone with a pair of scissors because
of course I'd already checked in all my sharp implements. Eventually I
found a jewellery store that let me use the teeth of their sticky tape
dispenser to saw off the bandage tape. It was quite embarrassing.
Flight to Shanghai was okay. I got a middle aisle seat and the seat
next to me was empty, but I noticed the seats didn't have footrests
and only reclined about 5 degrees. I read the May issue of Empire
magazine for the most part, then slept for a couple of hours before I
started flicking through the video channels. I should mention that in
the inflight guide, the only English movies they said were showing
were 'Harry Potter 6' and 'Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs' but then
I found a weird French film, which I then discovered was '17 Again'
dubbed in French (I did find the English version and watch the last
third) and also the Renee Zellweger/ Harry Connick Jr flick 'New in
Town' (had to look up the title because I remember adamantly not
wanting to see it after I'd seen the trailer).
The transit in Shanghai was v short after checking through customs and
immigration. I was practically dying of thirst, though, so I bought a
bottle of flavoured tea (I know tea's a diuretic, but I didn't know
what anything else was). They had these sterilised water stations all
around the terminal, but I couldn't figure out how to use them. They
had a paper cup dispenser with words in Chinese and English: "Paper
cup to be used only for cold water" but I couldn't find the cold water
button. It just said 'warm', 'warm' and 'hot' with a digital reading
that said 99, which I took to be 99 degrees.
So we all got on the plane. I became very interested in a caucasian
businessman who looked very out of place among non-businesspeople and
Asians (there were non-Asian non-businesspeople and Asian
businesspeople but he was the only one who was both). Turns out he was
German, or at least read a German magazine with fluency, and he didn't
know much Mandarin because he spoke in English to the flight
attendants.
Long story short, the plane was delayed by 2 hours when we were
already all buckled up ready to go. I slept for the most part (v
uncomfortably) except to cram as much water down my throat as
possible. I also thought the people who were supposed to meet me at
the airport might leave me to my own devices and I'd have to catch a
taxi on my own (I HATE midnight taxi runs in foreign countries where I
can't speak the language). Fortunately that wasn't the case: instead I
was bundled into a black Mercedes and taken via some long expressway
to god-knows-where, which ended up being the JW Marriott.
They gave me the wrong floor access with my room key (I'm in 1816 -
level 18, room 16 - and they gave me access to level 16 instead) and
can I tell you it is so damn difficult to explain something like that
when all you've read is the Lonely Planet Mandarin phrasebook and are
really, really, really, really frickin' tired. Eventually I made it
with the help of an English-speaking concierge who reconfigured my
room key and took me up. I went through all the emotions associated
with getting free internet and then discovering I couldn't Tweet nor
blog and then I had a shower and went to sleep.
Today was a pretty good day. Too, too early a start, though. Had a
meagre brekky because I thought I was late but then ended up hanging
around for almost 30 mins before the keynote speaker. We then divided
into groups. I met David Flynn (SMH freelancer) and Jacqui (HP rep
from Melbourne) and we were put in a group with Malaysia, Singapore,
Indonesia and India. The Indian journos were quite annoying because
they were asking a lot of questions that seemed irrelevant but then I
thought about it and realised that their SME market (emerging) is
completely different from ours (mature) so some of the concepts, such
as paying extra for convenience, or for cash flow purposes, were
foreign to them.
Overall a well-run day. I particularly enjoyed the Enviro session, not
just because I'm a greenie but because I asked some hard questions and
am quite satisfied that HP is the leading printer company in the green
space.
Anyway, gotta go file some stories now - and not just the HP ones,
unfortunately.
31 January, 2010
Sydney Festival - Week 3b (festival)
Sydney Festival
Various venues, Sydney (9-30th January, 2010)
Rogue's Gallery by Hal Willner
Sydney Opera House Forecourt (28 Jan)
I bought tix to Rogue's Gallery because the concept sounded fascinating, a retrospective, if you will, of sea shanties and ballads to warm the cockles. Besides which, Sir, my impoverished but pirate-loving flatmate, even saw sense in shelling out big bucks for this gig. And because I'd bought so frickin' many Sydney Festival tix, I was entitled to a 20% discount which saw the price drop from $140 to $116, an extra bonus.
In the lead up to the date, I then discovered how very awesome the lineup was: in addition to the unexpected but welcome appearance of actor Tim Robbins, there were stalwarts like Marianne Faithfull and Peter Garrett as well as crowd favourites Camille O'Sullivan and Sarah Blasko. It was going to be a musical bonanza.
Now, I'd retired home from work at 3-ish due to oncoming illness and general fatigue but couldn't nap cos of some inconsiderate power gardening going on outside. I give you this context because when the rain came buffeting down on us as we sat on the hard steps of the Sydney Opera House Forecourt (not a very comfortable place, mind you) I was kind of resigned to enduring the gig rather than fully embracing it.
It didn't start off well. Some artist named Baby Gramps sang some incomprehensible country-style twaddle that didn't even sound like it'd ever heard of the sea and hogged the stage for a good 10 minutes. Sir and I sighed with relief as he was replaced by Peter Garrett, best known as former Midnight Oil frontman (before his current stint as Minister for the Environment, Heritage and the Arts). Who knew that Garrett had a pirate voice? He was surprisingly good, though I thought he could've dressed more piratish to get us all in the mood.
I won't disseminate the whole gig for you but I will provide you with highlights and lowlights. On the up side was the delightful Camille O'Sullivan and Todd Rundgren, who both brought the right attitude and a bit of panache to the whole evening. Camille was wench-like in her flirtation with the audience, while Todd was suitably charismatic as a veritable captain of a ship. Their pairing on 'The Good Ship Venus' was a killer and there should have been more of that sort of thing.
Honourable mentions go to local gals Katy Steele and Sarah Blasko, whose steady, worldly voices encapsulated journeys around the world in each of their pieces. Gavin Friday and Liam Finn also impressed; Gavin especially with his filthy shanty about whores - ha! They both had the spirit of the night at the right level, giving as much to the crowd, which had already endured thunder, rain and lightning, as the crowd was pumping onto the stage.
Peaches' appearance was also suitably chaotic with a troupe of dancers in costume parading about the stage. The rest of the show would have been much livelier - colourful, rowdy - following her lead.
On the down side there was Marianne Faithfull, overhyped and underperforming in such an achingly obvious way (reading the lyrics off the song sheet, anyone?). Marry Waterson's a capella was unfortunately interrupted by the departure toot of the Diamond Princess, but it didn't excuse the fact that she sung the beautiful ballad mostly offkey. I mean, if you're going to sing a cappella, you have to be able to hit the notes, right?
David Thomas also failed to hit the right notes, growling his way through his numbers. I don't know anything about David Thomas as an artist, so I don't know if this was expected, but it just brought an unwelcome edge to the show. Look, I understand that pirates are supposed to be gruff-voiced, but you'd think you'd at least be able to hear the words.
Neither up nor down were Tim Robbins, Glenn Richards and Kami Thompson. Tim wasn't a bad singer nor guitarist, but there was no real flavour to his performances, and I can't even remember Glenn Richards being there, so unmarked was his contribution. Kami did a competent job of her part, but again, nothing of note.
Overall the show was an uneven collection of performances. If the 'shambles' were more colourful I could have forgiven it, but it seemed like two-fifths of the company were unable to muster enough energy to get into the spirit of things. I expected a bit more pluck, a bit more Peaches-like rowdiness and filthy fun songs good for a singalong. We needed this night to be rollicking and Rogue's Gallery did not provide this in the quantities required.
We came in the wind and the rain and the thunder and the lightning but the Rogues had battened down the hatches and left us with a damp show.
Gig rating: 6/10
Enjoyment rating: 7/10
Six Characters in Search of an Author by Headlong Theatre
York Theatre, Seymour Centre (30 Jan)
I'd never read Pirandello's original of this play, but the premise of characters looking for an author harks back to my cultural studies education and almost made me want to return to university. Almost.
The start is a little unsettling, setting the scene as a documentary-maker struggles to get the footage she needs to finish off a piece on euthanasia. Tempers begin to fray in the editing suite when six people dressed in black enter the scene. After much confusion, it is established that they are characters, abandoned by their author. Against her better judgement, the filmmaker allows the patriarch to tell his tale, which is then interrupted and twisted by each of the characters in turn. Things come to a head when she begins to recreate their story on film and they refuse to be recreated, insisting that they just are.
Throughout, I could see echoes of Beckett and Stoppard and this pleased me no end because I have always found discussions of existentialism most fruitful in theatre and literary demonstrations. There is also reference to 'Hamlet' - "To be or not to be" to describe the euthanasia that occurs in the doco as control over one's life, but also the "O what a rogue and peasant slave am I" soliloquy to illustrate the 'playing' metaphor - and a funny reference to the German 'Hamlet', which also played at the Sydney Festival.
It also reminded me of a Year 12 English unit I used to tutor, 'Telling the Truth'. I would give my students a reading of 'Rashomon: In a Grove' to illustrate how one event could have so many versions depending on the author of the story. The story from which the six characters derive undergoes a similar fragmentation as each brings their own attitude and bias to it, trying to bring the author, the filmmaker, onside. Everything thens twists away as the filmmaker herself becomes a character - which she is, in this play - and things go awry.
Outstanding performances by Catherine McCormack (the filmmaker) and Ian McDiarmid (the patriarch) make this production a real eye-opener of a play. Where many ensembles would make the premise seem contrived or even self-indulgent, Headlong's cast show a restraint that serves the corkscrew premise of the play well and bring everything to its poignant, razor sharp end.
I haven't seen a play that has made me think so much as this in a long while and I was surprised at the occasional bites of humour interspersed in the material. Not only did the troupe not make the mistake of taking the text too seriously, it gave complete control of meaning to the audience. Audience as author? Barthes would be proud.
Gig rating: 9/10
Enjoyment rating: 9/10
Various venues, Sydney (9-30th January, 2010)
Rogue's Gallery by Hal Willner
Sydney Opera House Forecourt (28 Jan)
I bought tix to Rogue's Gallery because the concept sounded fascinating, a retrospective, if you will, of sea shanties and ballads to warm the cockles. Besides which, Sir, my impoverished but pirate-loving flatmate, even saw sense in shelling out big bucks for this gig. And because I'd bought so frickin' many Sydney Festival tix, I was entitled to a 20% discount which saw the price drop from $140 to $116, an extra bonus.
In the lead up to the date, I then discovered how very awesome the lineup was: in addition to the unexpected but welcome appearance of actor Tim Robbins, there were stalwarts like Marianne Faithfull and Peter Garrett as well as crowd favourites Camille O'Sullivan and Sarah Blasko. It was going to be a musical bonanza.
Now, I'd retired home from work at 3-ish due to oncoming illness and general fatigue but couldn't nap cos of some inconsiderate power gardening going on outside. I give you this context because when the rain came buffeting down on us as we sat on the hard steps of the Sydney Opera House Forecourt (not a very comfortable place, mind you) I was kind of resigned to enduring the gig rather than fully embracing it.
It didn't start off well. Some artist named Baby Gramps sang some incomprehensible country-style twaddle that didn't even sound like it'd ever heard of the sea and hogged the stage for a good 10 minutes. Sir and I sighed with relief as he was replaced by Peter Garrett, best known as former Midnight Oil frontman (before his current stint as Minister for the Environment, Heritage and the Arts). Who knew that Garrett had a pirate voice? He was surprisingly good, though I thought he could've dressed more piratish to get us all in the mood.
I won't disseminate the whole gig for you but I will provide you with highlights and lowlights. On the up side was the delightful Camille O'Sullivan and Todd Rundgren, who both brought the right attitude and a bit of panache to the whole evening. Camille was wench-like in her flirtation with the audience, while Todd was suitably charismatic as a veritable captain of a ship. Their pairing on 'The Good Ship Venus' was a killer and there should have been more of that sort of thing.
Honourable mentions go to local gals Katy Steele and Sarah Blasko, whose steady, worldly voices encapsulated journeys around the world in each of their pieces. Gavin Friday and Liam Finn also impressed; Gavin especially with his filthy shanty about whores - ha! They both had the spirit of the night at the right level, giving as much to the crowd, which had already endured thunder, rain and lightning, as the crowd was pumping onto the stage.
Peaches' appearance was also suitably chaotic with a troupe of dancers in costume parading about the stage. The rest of the show would have been much livelier - colourful, rowdy - following her lead.
On the down side there was Marianne Faithfull, overhyped and underperforming in such an achingly obvious way (reading the lyrics off the song sheet, anyone?). Marry Waterson's a capella was unfortunately interrupted by the departure toot of the Diamond Princess, but it didn't excuse the fact that she sung the beautiful ballad mostly offkey. I mean, if you're going to sing a cappella, you have to be able to hit the notes, right?
David Thomas also failed to hit the right notes, growling his way through his numbers. I don't know anything about David Thomas as an artist, so I don't know if this was expected, but it just brought an unwelcome edge to the show. Look, I understand that pirates are supposed to be gruff-voiced, but you'd think you'd at least be able to hear the words.
Neither up nor down were Tim Robbins, Glenn Richards and Kami Thompson. Tim wasn't a bad singer nor guitarist, but there was no real flavour to his performances, and I can't even remember Glenn Richards being there, so unmarked was his contribution. Kami did a competent job of her part, but again, nothing of note.
Overall the show was an uneven collection of performances. If the 'shambles' were more colourful I could have forgiven it, but it seemed like two-fifths of the company were unable to muster enough energy to get into the spirit of things. I expected a bit more pluck, a bit more Peaches-like rowdiness and filthy fun songs good for a singalong. We needed this night to be rollicking and Rogue's Gallery did not provide this in the quantities required.
We came in the wind and the rain and the thunder and the lightning but the Rogues had battened down the hatches and left us with a damp show.
Gig rating: 6/10
Enjoyment rating: 7/10
Six Characters in Search of an Author by Headlong Theatre
York Theatre, Seymour Centre (30 Jan)
I'd never read Pirandello's original of this play, but the premise of characters looking for an author harks back to my cultural studies education and almost made me want to return to university. Almost.
The start is a little unsettling, setting the scene as a documentary-maker struggles to get the footage she needs to finish off a piece on euthanasia. Tempers begin to fray in the editing suite when six people dressed in black enter the scene. After much confusion, it is established that they are characters, abandoned by their author. Against her better judgement, the filmmaker allows the patriarch to tell his tale, which is then interrupted and twisted by each of the characters in turn. Things come to a head when she begins to recreate their story on film and they refuse to be recreated, insisting that they just are.
Throughout, I could see echoes of Beckett and Stoppard and this pleased me no end because I have always found discussions of existentialism most fruitful in theatre and literary demonstrations. There is also reference to 'Hamlet' - "To be or not to be" to describe the euthanasia that occurs in the doco as control over one's life, but also the "O what a rogue and peasant slave am I" soliloquy to illustrate the 'playing' metaphor - and a funny reference to the German 'Hamlet', which also played at the Sydney Festival.
It also reminded me of a Year 12 English unit I used to tutor, 'Telling the Truth'. I would give my students a reading of 'Rashomon: In a Grove' to illustrate how one event could have so many versions depending on the author of the story. The story from which the six characters derive undergoes a similar fragmentation as each brings their own attitude and bias to it, trying to bring the author, the filmmaker, onside. Everything thens twists away as the filmmaker herself becomes a character - which she is, in this play - and things go awry.
Outstanding performances by Catherine McCormack (the filmmaker) and Ian McDiarmid (the patriarch) make this production a real eye-opener of a play. Where many ensembles would make the premise seem contrived or even self-indulgent, Headlong's cast show a restraint that serves the corkscrew premise of the play well and bring everything to its poignant, razor sharp end.
I haven't seen a play that has made me think so much as this in a long while and I was surprised at the occasional bites of humour interspersed in the material. Not only did the troupe not make the mistake of taking the text too seriously, it gave complete control of meaning to the audience. Audience as author? Barthes would be proud.
Gig rating: 9/10
Enjoyment rating: 9/10
Sydney Festival - Week 3a (festival)
Sydney Festival
Various venues, Sydney (9-30th January, 2010)
Oedipus Loves You by Pan Pan Theatre
Everest Theatre, Seymour Centre (24 Jan)
I wanted to like this production, I really did. I eschewed the traditional 'Oedipus Rex' on the program for what promised to be a refreshing - even humorous - retelling of the classic Greek tragedy.
The first thing I saw when the curtain rose was a naked man, about 1.5m away from me. Curses be to the blight of the centre front row when this unexpectedly happens. The worst part was I'd been put in C row, thinking it was the third row, but apparently the theatre had done away with A and B.
Having recovered, I watched as the drama unfolded - in a very odd, haphazard way, I might add. This 'Oedipus' retelling was set in a suburban home, with all the premise of the original. But there was no majesty in Oedipus that put him at the head of a city, let alone his own household. The house seemed overrun with the activities of Antigone and Creon, who had formed a band, and the sage elderly mutterings of Tiresias.
But in the end I had no emotional connection with any of the characters. I actively disliked Jocasta and felt the others were just going through the motions that they were supposed to as scions of their Greek character namesakes. The actor who played Creon was the only one who got close to that fine balance between past character and present remodelling.
The use of video was engaging and one of the standout features of the set. It featured a camera focused on the bed and another in a studio where a video actor wrote and used objects to illustrate things further. The scene where the family go into 'therapy' was also well done, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that this was a clumsy attempt at a post-modern 'Oedipus' that failed to hit its mark.
(I could also never understand why no one thought it odd that Oedipus would marry a strange woman some 20 years his senior, mother or no.)
Gig rating: 6/10
Enjoyment rating: 6/10
Smoke & Mirrors
The Famous Spiegeltent, Hyde Park (25 Jan)
Cabaret and the Spiegeltent go hand in hand, so it was with great anticipation that my friends and I descended upon the Smoke & Mirrors performance. And iOTA took that buzz and rode it right through the show with unforgettable musical numbers (by himself and by Todd McKenney, and band) interspersed with theatrical acrobatics provided by ThisSideUp and Chelsea McGuffin and breathtaking (no, really) illusions by magician Timothy Woon.
The only thing I would question was the 'bearded lady' number by Queenie van de Zandt near the end. She is a great singer, but the fact that iOTA had already sung her song in the first half meant it was a repeat rather than a reprise. It would have been more powerful if the song were introduced earlier, but not sung in its entirety.
The crowd-pleaser was definitely ThisSideUp's 'strong man' act. What's not to like about three buff young men hamming it up on poles and showing their strength and skill? My friends all decided they had a crush on James.
One friend remarked that the show was too music-heavy. Compared to previous years' 'La Clique', which also featured physical acts such as contortionism, hula-hooping and burlesque, it was definitely music-led, but I thought iOTA did a great job turning the dark quirkiness of the circus/cabaret into song and personally hope that he will release an album of the show's tunes. I was surprised to learn he'd written everything but Todd McKenney's two vaudeville numbers so rich was the music, steeped in the murky 1920s.
Overall, the performances, the music and the costumes were spot on, so I'm not surprised the three weeks of the show sold out so quickly - otherwise I would have gone again.
Gig rating: 9/10
Enjoyment rating: 10/10
Dirty Three and Laughing Clowns
The Enmore Theatre, Enmore (26 Jan)
Other than wear green undies, seeing these two Australian bands was the only Australian thing I did on Australia Day on account of having just $7.50 to my name (I was deciding whether to buy beer or gelato but ended up with neither).
I was pretty early into the moshpit and staked out a spot about a third of the way back from the centre of the stage, sitting and reading a book (well, I was going to be standing for three hours, so had to get my sitting in), but when the lights went down it was ridiculous to leave so much room, so I ended up three rows back for Laughing Clowns.
I didn't know anything about Laughing Clowns, other than they were Australian, so I was pleasantly surprised to find myself folded into their punk-ish, rock-ish world with some really curly lyrics off their 'History of Rock ‘n’ Roll Vol. 1' album. I took particular note of drummer Jeffrey Wegener because I thought he was a genius on the kit. Seems weird to write it, but I felt he and the drums were one being. (How very Zen!). Their set was epic.
I then found out I was standing next to an acquaintance of mine, another festival junkie, so we spent the break swapping notes about other events and complaining about being on our feet, which passed the time quite nicely.
Dirty Three then swaggered onto the stage. I don't think a band that contains Warren Ellis (violinist) could possibly go anywhere without swaggering. He may possibly be a nutbag, but by god he's good on the strings. I mean, violins are meant for sweet serenading, right? They don't get angry unless it's the 1812 Overture or something. But no, there's nothing quite so expressive as a punk violin. The skill is in having the notes rip at your sensibilities without grating on your ears, and that's the beauty of Dirty Three.
Was quite amused by Mick Turner's (guitarist) comparatively placid playing next to the shenanigan that was Warren, stamping and striking his way through their 1998 album 'Ocean Songs'. (Can shenanigan be used in the singular? Never mind.)
Just as amusing were Warren's introductions to each of the pieces, for example: "This song is like that time that you had to live in a hallway for five years and you discover it's a hole. But you fill it with furniture and make it all nice with pictures. And then you think back years later and go 'geez, they were the best five years of my life'."
Simply searing - and that's not even taking into account the amount of sweat I saw and made all evening.
Gig rating: 8/10
Enjoyment rating: 7/10
Various venues, Sydney (9-30th January, 2010)
Oedipus Loves You by Pan Pan Theatre
Everest Theatre, Seymour Centre (24 Jan)
I wanted to like this production, I really did. I eschewed the traditional 'Oedipus Rex' on the program for what promised to be a refreshing - even humorous - retelling of the classic Greek tragedy.
The first thing I saw when the curtain rose was a naked man, about 1.5m away from me. Curses be to the blight of the centre front row when this unexpectedly happens. The worst part was I'd been put in C row, thinking it was the third row, but apparently the theatre had done away with A and B.
Having recovered, I watched as the drama unfolded - in a very odd, haphazard way, I might add. This 'Oedipus' retelling was set in a suburban home, with all the premise of the original. But there was no majesty in Oedipus that put him at the head of a city, let alone his own household. The house seemed overrun with the activities of Antigone and Creon, who had formed a band, and the sage elderly mutterings of Tiresias.
But in the end I had no emotional connection with any of the characters. I actively disliked Jocasta and felt the others were just going through the motions that they were supposed to as scions of their Greek character namesakes. The actor who played Creon was the only one who got close to that fine balance between past character and present remodelling.
The use of video was engaging and one of the standout features of the set. It featured a camera focused on the bed and another in a studio where a video actor wrote and used objects to illustrate things further. The scene where the family go into 'therapy' was also well done, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that this was a clumsy attempt at a post-modern 'Oedipus' that failed to hit its mark.
(I could also never understand why no one thought it odd that Oedipus would marry a strange woman some 20 years his senior, mother or no.)
Gig rating: 6/10
Enjoyment rating: 6/10
Smoke & Mirrors
The Famous Spiegeltent, Hyde Park (25 Jan)
Cabaret and the Spiegeltent go hand in hand, so it was with great anticipation that my friends and I descended upon the Smoke & Mirrors performance. And iOTA took that buzz and rode it right through the show with unforgettable musical numbers (by himself and by Todd McKenney, and band) interspersed with theatrical acrobatics provided by ThisSideUp and Chelsea McGuffin and breathtaking (no, really) illusions by magician Timothy Woon.
The only thing I would question was the 'bearded lady' number by Queenie van de Zandt near the end. She is a great singer, but the fact that iOTA had already sung her song in the first half meant it was a repeat rather than a reprise. It would have been more powerful if the song were introduced earlier, but not sung in its entirety.
The crowd-pleaser was definitely ThisSideUp's 'strong man' act. What's not to like about three buff young men hamming it up on poles and showing their strength and skill? My friends all decided they had a crush on James.
One friend remarked that the show was too music-heavy. Compared to previous years' 'La Clique', which also featured physical acts such as contortionism, hula-hooping and burlesque, it was definitely music-led, but I thought iOTA did a great job turning the dark quirkiness of the circus/cabaret into song and personally hope that he will release an album of the show's tunes. I was surprised to learn he'd written everything but Todd McKenney's two vaudeville numbers so rich was the music, steeped in the murky 1920s.
Overall, the performances, the music and the costumes were spot on, so I'm not surprised the three weeks of the show sold out so quickly - otherwise I would have gone again.
Gig rating: 9/10
Enjoyment rating: 10/10
Dirty Three and Laughing Clowns
The Enmore Theatre, Enmore (26 Jan)
Other than wear green undies, seeing these two Australian bands was the only Australian thing I did on Australia Day on account of having just $7.50 to my name (I was deciding whether to buy beer or gelato but ended up with neither).
I was pretty early into the moshpit and staked out a spot about a third of the way back from the centre of the stage, sitting and reading a book (well, I was going to be standing for three hours, so had to get my sitting in), but when the lights went down it was ridiculous to leave so much room, so I ended up three rows back for Laughing Clowns.
I didn't know anything about Laughing Clowns, other than they were Australian, so I was pleasantly surprised to find myself folded into their punk-ish, rock-ish world with some really curly lyrics off their 'History of Rock ‘n’ Roll Vol. 1' album. I took particular note of drummer Jeffrey Wegener because I thought he was a genius on the kit. Seems weird to write it, but I felt he and the drums were one being. (How very Zen!). Their set was epic.
I then found out I was standing next to an acquaintance of mine, another festival junkie, so we spent the break swapping notes about other events and complaining about being on our feet, which passed the time quite nicely.
Dirty Three then swaggered onto the stage. I don't think a band that contains Warren Ellis (violinist) could possibly go anywhere without swaggering. He may possibly be a nutbag, but by god he's good on the strings. I mean, violins are meant for sweet serenading, right? They don't get angry unless it's the 1812 Overture or something. But no, there's nothing quite so expressive as a punk violin. The skill is in having the notes rip at your sensibilities without grating on your ears, and that's the beauty of Dirty Three.
Was quite amused by Mick Turner's (guitarist) comparatively placid playing next to the shenanigan that was Warren, stamping and striking his way through their 1998 album 'Ocean Songs'. (Can shenanigan be used in the singular? Never mind.)
Just as amusing were Warren's introductions to each of the pieces, for example: "This song is like that time that you had to live in a hallway for five years and you discover it's a hole. But you fill it with furniture and make it all nice with pictures. And then you think back years later and go 'geez, they were the best five years of my life'."
Simply searing - and that's not even taking into account the amount of sweat I saw and made all evening.
Gig rating: 8/10
Enjoyment rating: 7/10
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)