The site’s back online — think of it as a rough cut. The footage is all there, but the colour grade, sound mix, and final edit are still in progress.
We had to pull a bit of a “director’s emergency cut” this morning (plugins and themes got a little too ambitious for their own good). But the production team is hard at work behind the scenes.
Stay tuned as we tighten up the edit, restore some lost frames, and get everything looking properly cinematic again.
The best of article is an end of year tradition. Some might say an obligation. Yet this year, it was a little harder to compile.
As 2022 became a relatively ‘normal’ one (whatever that means), I found myself in an odd position. I hadn’t been going to the cinema as much. After two years of virtual festivals, physical ones had less of an appeal. I’d bought a new TV and sound system and was quite content with the quality that served up. I was travelling more.
Of course, I’d also spent the first half of the year either waiting for or recovering from (minor) surgery, so it’s fair to say that 2022 was far from typical. So, in that spirit, here’s an atypical round-up for the year. While I’m not sure I saw all the Important Content™️ of the year, I’ve tried to capture my favourite things I’ve seen, read, attended or binged this year.
Jump to: Films | TV | Theatre | Books | 2023 and beyond
EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE came in hard as a leader in March, and stayed at the top of my pile for the duration of the year. As the film builds to a crescendo of simultaneous fight sequences, rapid-fire scene switching and frankfurter funnies, you might just find you’ve have been watching one of the most original films of the year.
Taking the same basic open-hearted approach that worked for Shithouse, CHA CHA REAL SMOOTH is an excellent character piece that manages to get you to invest a whole lot of emotion in a very compact space. In TURNING RED, Disney-Pixar returns with one of their most heartfelt, hyperkinetic, and genuinely fun coming of age films in years. More importantly, it’s a film that recognises the importance of being seen.
In APOLLO 10 1/2: A SPACE AGE CHILDHOOD, Richard Linklater returns to the world of rotoscope animation. Part autobiography and part fantasy, it’s a bit like all those memes that tell you ‘you’re this old’ but done with such self-effacing charm that it’s endearing. Meanwhile, Andrew Ahn’s FIRE ISLAND is a LGBTQIA+ spin on both Jane Austen and a John Hughes film. Everyone in this is amazing, and I can easily see this being a perennial favourite.
Then there were those films that slipped past widespread attention. CONFESS, FLETCH, the third adaptation of Gregory McDonald’s character, is a satisfying whodunit with a seriously unserious attitude. Let Jon Hamm play this role forever! Oran Zegman’s HONOR SOCIETY got a very low-key release, but was bloody delightful. Sitting somewhere at the Venn juncture of Election, a John Hughes movie and Easy A, it still managed to feel fresh, witty, and endlessly surprising. Australia’s THE PLAINS is an incredibly layered piece that partly channels Abbas Kiarostami or Jafar Panahi.
By now, you’ve no doubt seen S. S. Rajamouli’s RRR turning up on people’s lists, with hyperbole in either direction making it a must-see. Does it have some issues? Unquestionably. Is it one of the most high-octane and unique films you will see this or any year? Hell yes. The action sequences alone make this a massive experience, bringing the energy of a hundred martial arts films combined with the CG of a major studio production.
Speaking of action, in TOP GUN: MAVERICK Joseph Kosinski and Tom Cruise delivered something that is every inch the throwback blockbuster we needed this to be. It takes what it needs from the 80s (right down to sweaty beach games and dangerous zones), and the sports movie formula, and transplants it seamlessly into a contemporary setting. The dogfights are nothing short of spectacular and the last 30 minutes will have you white-knuckling all the way to the credits. What a blast.
Other films worth a mention include Yuki Tanada’s MY BROKEN MARIKO, Amanda Kramer’S GIVE ME PITY, Rian Johnson’s GLASS ONION: A KNIVES OUT MYSTERY, and Andrew Dominik’s I KNOW THIS MUCH TO BE TRUE, a performance film/documentary about Nick Cave and Warren Ellis.
You can see my full ranking of all new 2022 films I managed to catch over at Letterboxd.
Unquestionably the best show of 2022 was OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH. Arguments will not be entered into. It begins as parody, but creator David Jenkins has made a LGBTQIA+ narrative within the guise of a pirate comedy. Ryhs Darby and Taika Waititi so gradually work their characters in your hearts that you won’t notice that you’re still weeping in between the laughs — even on your third viewing.
STAR TREK: STRANGE NEW WORLDS reminded us of why we love Star Trek. As wonderful as some of the stories in Discovery and Picard have been, Anson Mount as Captain Pike leads a diverse cast in a swashbuckling standalone episodes that get back to just seeing what’s out there.
In the Star Wars universe, ANDOR has now set a high bar for what the fictional world can be. Structured as three movie-length arcs (each made up of three episodes), it doesn’t try to pander to nostalgia the way the disappointing The Book of Boba Fett or Obi-Wan Kenobi did. It was adult storytelling that just looked phenomenal as well.
In September, Amazon finally unveiled THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RINGS OF POWER after a massive lead-up of hype. Some rightly say it changes Tolkien’s meaning while others could just as readily point to the series playing fast and loose with timelines. As I say in my review for the first season, if it proves anything over the course of eight episodes, it’s that it very much wants to build a Tolkien tale in its own fashion. Here is a truly epic start to a series that has dug its heels in for the long haul.
Marvel had a patchy year, but really hit it out of the park with MS. MARVEL, acting as a great entry point into the universe for viewers of all ages who may feel fatigued or overwhelmed by the saga to date. An important step in both representative and inclusive storytelling in the world of Marvel. WEREWOLF BY NIGHT and THE GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY HOLIDAY SPECIAL also paved the way for smaller one-off stories that aren’t as reliant on understanding the rest of the MCU.
Over at the DC Comics camp, Suicide Squad spin-off PEACEMAKER was as irreverent as you’d expect from the mind of James Gunn. Star John Cena continues to prove his comedy chops in this violent, sweary, and very tongue-in-cheek antidote to the grimdark side of the DCEU.
THE BEAR took us by complete surprise. Set in a Chicago kitchen, it is as stressful as it is impeccably performed. It’s a tough watch, but ultimately rewarding. The HBO comedy special JERROD CARMICHAEL: ROTHANIEL is hands-down one of the best stand-up sets I have seen in a long time. Raw, intimate, heartfelt and disarmingly funny, it it is the antidote to a certain other streaming giant’s insistence on safeguarding prejudicial comics.
Other shows I still enjoy in their return seasons include RESERVATION DOGS, HACKS, WHAT WE DO IN THE SHADOWS and RUSSIAN DOLL.
Live theatre was back in a big way in 2022, and the return of Sydney Theatre Company’s THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY (STC) was a crowd-pleaser. I really didn’t know what to expect from Eryn Jean Norvill’s one-woman show going in, despite reviews from an earlier season, but the use of multiple screens made this a completely immersive take on Oscar Wilde’s story. Not sure it all worked but loved the central performance and the spectacle.
Of all the Australian originals, writers Daniel and James Cullen’s DUBBO CHAMPIONSHIP WRESTLING (Hayes Theatre) stands out as something unique, hilarious and charming. Zoe Ioannou is a star. Hayes always does wonders with the space, and the tunes are catchy. Oh, and Fuck Orange.
After two years of waiting, A CHORUS LINE (Darlinghurst Theatre Company) rocked the Drama Theatre at the Sydney Opera House. Front row seats were a must in this phenomenal bit of dance, with amazing emotive performances (especially from Angelique Cassimatis). I may have almost cried during ‘What I Did for Love.’
It’s hard to believe, but 2022 marked the first time a professional production of Lorraine Hansberry’s A RAISIN IN THE SUN (STC) was staged in Australia. Let that sink in for a moment. This classic is told with a top cast (Nancy Denis, Bert LaBonté, Angela Mahlatjie, Zahra Newman), a slick set, and a powerful mood.
BELLS ARE RINGING (Hayes Theatre) is a joyous addition of one of my favourites to the Neglected Musicals canon. Penny McNamee is wonderful in the lead, and the light 1950s costuming looked terrific. Still humming the tunes months later.
My theatre year finished in late December with a production of A CHRISTMAS CAROL (An Old Vic Production) starring David Wenham. Based on the Award-winning Old Vic production, it emphasises the relationship between Scrooge and his father, his sister, and his lost love. Wenham is terrific and it’s filled with carols, impressive sets, and a rousing finale that will help you keep Christmas in your heart through all the year.
In October and December 2022, Cormac McCarthy released his 11th and 12th (and probably last) novels after a 16 year absence from our shelves. THE PASSENGER and STELLA MARIS are companion novels about sibilings Bobby and Alice Western. Building on his first non-fiction work, his 2017 essay The Kekulé Problem, they touch on maths, Oppenheimer, and the separation of language from the unconscious human mind. Alternatively genius and utterly perplexing, the 89-year-old writer is waiting for an ending, and he’s shared some of his void with us as it closes in.
How can we follow that? Yes, but only with some minor difficulty. Most of my reading in 2022 was catching up on past to-read piles, but there were a few new releases that stood out. After loving Daisy Jones and the Six, author Taylor Jenkins-Reid delivered CARRIE SOTO IS BACK. Like the titular character, it holds you at an emotional arm’s length at first, but one can’t help but root for the underdog (and the slowly blossoming romance).
Ali Smith’s COMPANION PIECE, as the title implies, could have easily been another entry in Smith’s seasonal quartet if she hadn’t already used up the four western seasons as a naming convention. Filled with the same immediacy (set during the pandemic), wry observations, and delightful wordplay as the previous entries, this one seems a little more coloured by anxiety.
In LESSER KNOWN MONSTERS OF THE 21ST CENTURY, Kim Fu has a real ability to weave real people and snappy dialogue into fantastical situations, whether it is a Philip K. Dick style virtual world or the magical realism of kids sprouting leg wings. A mixture of sci-fi and a speculative fantasy mingles with some sharp observations of the modern condition (as it were) ponders the ambiguity of grief, trauma, love and absence in equal measure.
The other stuff I want to mention is a bit of a grab bag. It’s been almost a year since I read JOAN IS OK, but Weike Wang’s ennuied prose still lingers with me. While part of me wondered if it was too soon for such an account of the pandemic, Wang deftly spins her modest narrative towards exploring the Asian-American experience in its totality through the lens of the last few years.
PERPETUAL WEST is slow-burning thriller of sorts that asks us to question that distance (or lack thereof) and perceptions of both the US and Mexico. Mesha Maren’s prose is exquisite as always, drawing us completely into her microcosm.
It’s so rare to find a book that’s so impeccably and lyrically written as BROWN GIRLS. As Daphne Palasi Andreades’ words tumble poetically across the pages, it draws us into the lived experience of the titular girls around the world.
Other stuff I thoroughly enjoyed this year included Stephen King’s FAIRY TALE and GWENDY’S FINAL TASK, Don Bluth’s autobiography SOMEWHERE OUT THERE: MY ANIMATED LIFE, and THE FALL OF NÚMENOR, Brian Sibley’s edited collection of J.R.R. Tolkien’s writing on the Second Age of Middle-earth.
Check out my year in books on GoodReads.
Next year will be a little bit different here on The Reel Bits. I’ll be doing a lot more travelling and a little less film watching. Travel has long been a passion, so now that borders are open we’ve got the next couple of big trips booked and planned. Look out for an exciting new project next year.
It’s a reflection that while this used to be The Main Outlet of all my things, it’s increasingly just become one of the things I do between work, travel, and watching movies. That said: The Reel Bits isn’t going anywhere, nor will it become a travel site.
For now, I want to thank all of the visitors and readers of this site for your patronage and support over the years. This is my little playground of thoughts and I love that other people enjoy reading about my hobbies as much as I enjoy writing them. Have a terrific 2023!
Every few years, rumours swirl about Disney bringing a theme park to Australia. Some are pure fantasy, while others have come tantalisingly close to reality.
In September 2022, the internet buzzed with fresh speculation. Could Adelaide be in the running to join Anaheim, Orlando, Tokyo, Paris, Hong Kong, and Shanghai on the Disney world map?
As unbelievable as it sounds, this isn’t the first time the House of Mouse has considered an Australian park. Over the years, at least two serious attempts have been made—bringing both excitement and disappointment in equal measure.
So, what happened? Why hasn’t Australia landed its own Disneyland? Let’s explore the near-misses, behind-the-scenes talks, and what it would take for Disney magic to finally land on our shores.
Disney’s ties to Australia date back nearly a century.
The animated short Mickey’s Kangaroo (1935) introduced Mickey to an exported Australian ‘roo, while Mickey Down Under (1948) reinforced familiar stereotypes, featuring boomerangs and outback landscapes.
By the 1970s, Australia became more than just a setting. Ride a Wild Pony (1975), based on James Aldridge’s novel, was filmed locally with an Australian cast. Disney on Parade (1971), a travelling arena show, was captured in Adelaide for The Wonderful World of Disney. Journey to the Valley of the Emu (1978) followed, telling a First Nations story—though its cultural accuracy is debatable.
In later years, Disney set The Rescuers Down Under (1990) and Finding Nemo (2003) in Australia, further embedding the country in its cinematic legacy.
Disney Stores arrived in 1992, followed by the Disney Channel in 1996. Walt Disney Animation Australia operated between 1988 and 2006, producing animated series and direct-to-video films.
In 2019, Disney acquired Fox Studios Australia, renaming it Disney Studios Australia, with major productions—including Marvel films—now being filmed here.
Australia is even represented in Disney theme parks, with animatronic kangaroos and koalas appearing in the classic It’s a Small World ride.
Despite this long history, a Disneyland Australia has never materialised—though the idea resurfaces every few years.
So, it was inevitable that some thought would be given to a local Disney park in this big, flat, mysterious island nation.
The push to open Disneyland Australia began in 1977 when the Southport-based Star Land Company tried to entice Disney to the Gold Coast suburb of Coomera.
Queensland proved its chops as a world-class destination a decade later with World Expo 88, a A$625 million world’s fair coinciding with the bicentenary of European colonisation. Disney already had a presence at the Expo: in addition to a mascot designed by Disney’s Imagineering Division, the Skyneedle—originally planned for Tokyo Disneyland—was instead awarded to hairdresser Stefan Ackerie and relocated to South Bank. (Disney fans might recall that the 1964–65 New York World’s Fair led to attractions like It’s a Small World and Carousel of Progress.)
Fast forward two decades, and developer Gordon McAlister was among those behind a renewed push to transform an 810ha Coomera plot into a Disney destination resort. According to the Gold Coast Bulletin, by the late 1990s, the Queensland state government had begun taking the project seriously.
Queensland Sport Minister Mick Vievers visited Disneyland in late 1997 with former Expo chairman Sir Llew Edwards, prompting media speculation. Initially led by the Rob Borbidge Liberal Government, former premier Wayne Goss was later tasked with negotiating the ‘Starland’ project with Disney on the government’s behalf.
“It had got to the stage where there were proposals before Disney and proposals before the government,” McAlister told the Gold Coast Bulletin in 2015. “We got to the last meeting in Burbank, California, when Michael Eisner stepped in and said, ‘No, I want to go to China’.”
And that’s exactly what Disney did, with Hong Kong Disneyland opening in 2005 and Shanghai Disneyland following in 2016.
“We got to the last meeting in Burbank, California, when Michael Eisner stepped in and said ‘No, I want to go to China’.”
Governments changed, and local appetite waned—partly due to the substantial government support required, including land, infrastructure, tax incentives, and capital contributions. Estimates ranged from $US300 million to $US500 million, which, in 2022 dollars, would have pushed $1 billion at the top end.
With the closure of all 16 local Disney Stores in 2003, it seemed Disneyland Australia was well and truly off the table.
At least, for a little while.
About a decade after the Gold Coast plan fell through, Disney reportedly turned its attention to Sydney Harbour around 2007–08. Unlike the grand theme park envisioned for Queensland, this proposal was something different.
According to a Sydney Morning Herald report, serious discussions took place around a concept called Disney Wharf at Sydney Harbour. Planned for the old White Bay Power Station and Glebe Island area—within spitting distance of the Anzac Bridge—it would have transformed the site into a Disney-themed precinct with shops, attractions, and hotels.
Not simply a theme park, from the documents that have been made public—where it was referred to as ‘Project Lester’—it would have been a “bustling boardwalk along its 97 acres filled with outdoor cafes, waterfront restaurants, neighborhood parks, trendy boutiques, a marina, hotels, and a luxury spa.”
Along with a topiary-filled Fantasia Gardens Promenade and a Castle Courtyard Environment, there were plans for designer shops including “food, flower, and cheese vendors.” Art played a large part, with plans for galleries, street artists, and “a vibrant artists-in-residence program.”
Ferries would have taken both locals and visitors to the Disney Wharf, featuring gaming, the Disney-Pixar Studios Australia, a Theatre District, and Disney’s Nighttime Water Spectacular. In addition to the retail and dining experiences, more familiar Classic Disney elements were reportedly included: Mickey’s Philharmagic 4D Show, Disney Princesses Boutique, Disney’s Flight of Fantasy (including Dumbo and Aladdin), a Finding Nemo area, Goofy’s Candy Company, a Wonderful World of Color Restaurant, and of course, branded stores.
As a native Sydneysider, one who lives dangerously close to the proposed site, having a Disney park that was visitable on public transport would have been amazing. Yet it’s hard to imagine that it would have been sustainable. The proposal speaks of expanded light rail, for example, which would take at least another decade to become a reality.
Sounding like a cross between Downtown Disney, the residential Storyliving developments, and the idea that eventually evolved out of Downtown Disney into Disney Springs in Florida, it smacked of all the compromises that made the launch of Hong Kong Disneyland underwhelming. It’s what one government member apparently called a “development proposal dressed up as a fun park.”
Why did this attempt fail? Well, costs and a lack of written proposals tend to be cited. The rail and road changes would have cost an estimated A$500 million (and may have still been under construction decades later if the light rail was any indication). There also may have been a small riot from the Inner West residents of the adjacent Balmain as well.
Seriously: getting DA approval on Sydney’s waterfront was probably just more trouble than it was worth.
In December 2022, former Imagineer Jim Shull released one of the first hi-res images (above) of this proposed park on Twitter. For the first time, we were able to clearly see how the entertainment, light theming, and retail aspects sat with the White Bay area. You can even see how the Anzac Bridge would have overlooked the Wharf area. If nothing else, it would definitely have made a mark on the landscape.
“Disney Wharf was a project imagined for Sydney Harbor, Australia. Located on a site designed to lift the area, it was to be a mixed-use project. Not a theme park but more than a retail and entertainment project, Disney has tried this several times with mixed results,” he Tweeted.
In September 2022, it was widely reported that a South Australian businessman became the latest person to try and open negotiations with Disney Parks and Resorts.
“McLaren Vale would be my spot – wide, open, flat, next to the beach, next to the ranges – (it) makes a lot of sense,” winemaker Warren Randall told The Advertiser.
He has reportedly offered part of his 1200ha McLaren Vale land portfolio in an attempt to entice Disney Down Under.
“Anaheim, the Disneyland in California, has fantastic resources, great infrastructure in terms of traffic, getting there, buses, parking et cetera,” Randall added to the newspaper. He’s not wrong, given both the Anaheim and Orlando locations had a history of primary industry prior to becoming amusement capitals. Randall’s goal is to transform Adelaide’s wine country into a global destination for both Australians and international visitors.
While neither the South Australian government nor Disney have made any official bids or offers yet, it’s worth noting that the Gold Coast’s first bid started humbly almost 20 years before things got serious. So, at this rate, could we see Disneyland Adelaide in 2042?
So, what are the actual chances of Disney opening a park here in Australia? Well, while Disney Cruises are finally making their debut in 2023-2024, with cabins selling like hotcakes, it seems the parks may still be a distant dream. Perhaps Disney will use their cruises as a way to test the waters before making any major decisions.
Queensland’s Gold Coast is known for housing many of Australia’s big amusement parks, such as Dreamworld, SeaWorld, and Warner Bros. Movie World. But the reality is that Australia may not have the population base to support a theme park of Disney’s magnitude.
The demise of Sydney’s Wonderland in 2004, along with the closure of numerous other Australian parks, points to this. In the US, a 2021 report from the Orange County Register revealed that over 50% of attendees were annual passholders, with California’s Disneyland hosting 18.7 million visitors in 2019. This is a crucial factor in sustaining large parks.
To put things into perspective, for an Australian Disney park to maintain a similar scale, at least 400,000 people in New South Wales alone would need to be annual passholders. As of now, new Magic Key program have been paused in California, but the loyal fanbase remains substantial.
For now, the closest Disney experience in Australia is the virtual reality ride Soarin’ Around the World, which lets guests “swoop past sailboats on Australia’s iconic Sydney Harbour.” Until anything changes, Australians will likely have to endure a long journey to experience the happiest places on Earth.
“We estimated about five million visitors each year, which is small for Disney but huge for us,” said McAlister of Australian scoping in the 1990s. However, with Hong Kong Disneyland and Shanghai Disneyland now in the picture, it’s become far more affordable for Australians to visit a Disney park without the need for a long-haul flight.
With Disney’s extensive footprint in Asia, the potential for an Australian park to attract international visitors has been significantly reduced. What remains the most likely offering is something akin to the Hawaiian Aulani resort: a standalone hotel with Disney-themed amenities, character meet-and-greets, and plenty of local exploration. This could be the perfect vacation spot for Australians—or even a staycation for locals looking to experience Disney in their own backyard.
Outsider of the cruises, the closest Disneyland guests get to Australia is the virtual reality ride Soarin’ Around the World, where guests “swoop past sailboats on Australia’s iconic Sydney Harbour.” Until any new developments, the happiest places on Earth will remain a bit of a schlep for locals.
But, of course, if one of those ships happens to sidle up to a port near you, things could get a lot closer. On behalf of all of our crew, thank you for traveling with us, and we hope you’ve had a happy and memorable visit here at Disneyland Australia. Please remain seated until the ride comes to a complete stop.
Moore, A. (2015, September 5). How the Gold Coast almost became the happiest place on Earth. Gold Coast Bulletin. Retrieved November 7, 2022, from Gold Coast Bulletin.
Snow, D. (2014, January 11). Walt Disney Company proposed a Disney Resort in Sydney. The Sydney Morning Herald. Retrieved November 8, 2022, from smh.com.au
Weiss, W. (2020, February 21). Yesterland: Hyperion Wharf at Walt Disney World. WW GOES TO WDW at Yesterland.com. Retrieved November 8, 2022, from Yesterland
Other links
Disney Wharf in Australia. (2019, February 9). Insights and Sounds.
Where is Disneyland Australia? – ReviewTyme
Unbuilt Disney: Disneyland Australia – Jim Hill Media [podcast]
NB: This article was updated on 4 January 2023 to incorporate some new images released in December 2022.
Here we are again. It’s been about fifteen months since I last reflected on sitting, working and watching from home. Sydney’s back in a not wholly unexpected lockdown until at least the end of July. Once again, I’ve started writing things down. If you’re reading this, it also means I also hit he publish button.
So, how are you doing? No, really: how are you doing? I don’t ask that enough. While I’ve pulled back from social media a bit, it’s always good to stay in touch. (And if you don’t have someone to reach out to, there’s plenty of places who can take your calls). My coping mechanism last year it was vodka martinis and cheese dip. This year, it’s beer and ice cream but the reflex is one in the same. My search history is peppered with gems like ‘why is beer foam important’ and ‘duck in hat.’ We all cope in our own ways.
Film, of course, is a constant companion. One community I can always rely on for an opinion are film fans. Sitting on the Governing Committee of the Online Film Critics’ Society (OFCS), I see a lot of film chatter. I actively seek it out on Twitter. One of the singular joys of 2021 so far has been #PreCodeApril, an initiative from the mind of Matthew Turner (Fatal Attractions Podcast) that celebrated the salacious wonders of Hollywood’s sin in soft focus between 1929 and 1934. (Here’s all the films I watched. For the record, It Happened One Night is a perennial favourite and James Whale’s The Old Dark House was a gem of a personal discovery).
“Some birds can’t be caged…”
The brief window out of lockdown reminded me of the power of a crowded cinema. We’ve had the collective experience of watching a monkey fight a lizard with Godzilla Vs. Kong. We cheered and exchanged baffled gleeful looks in equal measure at Fast and Furious 9. We held our breath in unison at A Quiet Place: Part II. We sang along to In the Heights. On a smaller scale, I’ve hung out a mate’s place re-watching Highlander for the umpteenth time, and introduced my partner to The Godfather trilogy from the comfort of our sofa.
Yet I can’t pretend the last year hasn’t irrevocably changed my viewing habits. When Black Widow premiered exclusively in Sydney on Disney+ due to our local cinemas being closed, I didn’t bat an eyelid. Sure, it’s the first time since 2008 I’ve not seen an MCU film in a cinema, but a trio of excellent series (including the most recent Loki) have gotten us used to seeing these characters from the comfort of our own home. Indeed, when I do venture out these days, it’s more likely to the theatre or a local watering hole. Theatre highlights so far have included Fangirls (Belvoir), Berlin (MTC), We Are Here (Darlinghurst Theatre Company), Fun Home (STC) and, of course, Hamilton. Twice.
It’s not that I don’t enjoy cinema events and face to face festivals: they provide a chance to catch up with old friends and colleagues and have my back teeth rattled by ATMOS sound. Yet if 2020/2021 has taught us anything, it’s that the very notion of ‘cinema’ is a fluid one. After all, I’ve already travelled the world’s festival circuit this year thanks to some robust online programming. I was able to fully cover IFFR, the Berlinale, SXSW and Germany’s Nippon Connection thanks to their excellent digital platforms and generous consideration of international critics. The chance to see gems like Petite Maman, Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn, Natalie Morales’ Language Lessons, Germany’s The Girl and the Spider, Leah Purcell’s The Drover’s Wife: The Legend of Molly Johnson, Edgar Wright’s The Sparks Brothers and Malcolm Ingram’s Clerk ahead of their local releases was simply amazing. So many premieres — and no need to rent a tux.
Home film schooling
Which still leaves me and the rest of the city at home in July 2021 thanks to Sydney’s current version of a lockdown. Unlike last year’s #isolife, I’m cautiously hopeful. Dusting off some cellared beer and my film archives in equal measure, I’m taking each day as it comes and jumping at the chance to return to some old favourites and learn a little more about film.
Inspired by the Cannes premiere of sexy nun film Benedetta, I’ve started going back to look at the early films of Paul Verhoeven. While I’ve seen Showgirls more times than I care to admit, I’d never really watched much of Verhoeven’s pre-Hollywood output. His short films are hard to come by outside of Europe, but some can be found online. From the French New Wave inspirations of One Lizard Too Many to the more overt militarisation of Het korps Mariniers (stuff we’d see in later films like Starship Troopers), it’s a fascinating departure. I even delved into his first commercial work, the 1969 Dutch adventure series Floris, the first of many collaborations with an impossibly young Rutger Hauer.
Yet the real joy has been in going down rabbit holes. After randomly watching Pillow Talk, I followed Rock Hudson, Doris Day and Tony Randall into the comedy of errors, Send Me No Flowers. The inexplicable urge to watch Judy Holliday and Dean Martin in Bells Are Ringing led me to Holliday’s Oscar-winning performance in the delightful Born Yesterday. I can’t explain the afternoon where we watched Legally Blonde and Bring It On back-to-back. More recently, after an announcement of an extended lockdown, a repeat viewing of Groundhog Day seemed incredibly appropriate.
At the time of writing, Sydney has another two weeks of lockdown ahead of it unless the number of community transmissions radically reduces. Melbourne has also gone into it’s fifth lockdown since the start of the pandemic. It’s hard not to feel stressed constantly when it’s all feeling a bit apocalyptic on the news and social channels. Then through serendipity my partner stumbled across a clip of Judy Garland singing ‘I Don’t Care’ from the film musical In the Good Old Summertime, a remake of The Shop Around the Corner and the precursor to You’ve Got Mail. Perhaps Judy Garland is the whole reaction mood GIF we need in our lives right now.
Here’s hoping that this column won’t become a trilogy. As I said last year, just be kind to yourself: find enjoyment where you can and respect your community by staying at home. Safe safe out there, film friends.
This time last year, I was reviewing my favourite Asia cinema releases of 2019. As we reach the very end of 2020, it’s a very different film landscape.
Despite the lower number of cinema releases, my list of 20 Asian films to watch out for in 2020 has consistently remained one of my most-viewed posts of the year. Strangely, it’s still far more accurate than my more general list. The retrospectively optimistic piece saw at least half of it’s films out in some form, so it had a higher hit rate than the Hollywood and indie list.
So, instead of ranking and listing films as I normally would, here’s a potted summary of things that came out, things I thought were worth watching and the stuff I wrote about.
Japan
Given that 2020 was the year I started studying the Japanese language, it’s unsurprising that the bulk of my watching fell under Nihon no eiga. The industry emerged from the inward-looking approach of the last few years, competing internationally at with films like Naomi Kawase’s True Mothers.
If the world had not been actually plagued by a global pandemic, Toshiaki Toyoda’s DAY OF DESTRUCTION, would have dropped in Japanese cinemas on 24 July, the opening day of the Tokyo Olympics. (Indeed, Kawase was set to direct the official film of the games). It remains the first of several visceral films that emerged from the COVID-19 era, with its frenetic mixture of sound, vision and fury that is impossible to be apathetic about.
Similarly, several films reflected on the Fukushima tragedy and surrounding areas almost a decade on. Nobuhiro Suwa’s beautiful and intense VOICES IN THE WIND continues the conversation around grief and healing is only just beginning for a generation; while Setsuro Wakamatsu’s blockbuster FUKUSHIMA 50 was a high budget film that remained centrist in its politics.
Tatsushi Omori’s intense character study MOTHER, released internationally on Netflix, is a harrowing but essential piece of contemporary Japanese cinema. Led by remarkable performances from Masami Nagasawa and newcomers Sho Gunji and Daiken Okudaira (playing her son at different ages), this exploration of a toxic mother/son relationship is sensational without being sensationalised.
Cult favourite Sion Sono delivered his most accessible and joyfully strange dissection of the film industry in RED POST ON ESCHER STREET, and also penned the epic ‘single take’ CRAZY SAMURAI MUSASHI for Yûji Shimomura. Now we just patiently await the long-delayed Prisoners of the Ghostland, finally due for release in 2021.
Taboos and social issues were tackled in a terrific series of must-sees from the year: same-sex couples and custody rights in the prolific Rikiya Imaizumi’s HIS; disability and sexuality in 37 SECONDS; and indigenous traditions in Takeshi Fukunaga’s AINU MOSIR. The powerful FORGIVEN CHILDREN (from director Eisuke Naito) takes a hard look at the court systems versus natural justice, along with being an unflinching look at bullying. Even ROMANCE DOLL, while less successful overall, still managed to explore Japan’s complicated relationship with sex and the sex industry while showcasing the perpetually excellent Yū Aoi.
On the anime front, Netflix viewers got to see the slightly disappointing A WHISKER AWAY, while the VIOLET EVERGARDEN movie hit Australian cinemas. As the year closed out, Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba – The Movie: Mugen Train bucked Japanese box office trends and became the highest grossing domestic film of the year.
A grab bag of other Japanese films I enjoyed this year include the brief dad-rap feature GEEK BEEF BEAT, the impossibly over-the-top PROJECT DREAMS: HOW TO BUILD MAZINGER Z’S HANGER, Hideo Nakata’s lockdown horror film REMOTE DE KOROSARERU, documentary PRISON CIRCLE, the surrealistic DONG TENG TOWN, and the completely batshit kaiju throwback MONSTER SEAFOOD WARS.
Special mentions go to some 2019 getting a wider release included including Kontora, It Feels So Good, and Special Actors. Props to JAPAN CUTS and the Japanese Film Festival for going online and keeping us in film in a weird year.
South Korea
South Korean cinema was riding on a high from Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite win at the Oscars, and every SK release was billed as ‘the next Parasite.’ None of them came close, and certainly not in obsessive internet fandom, but it did create more of a presence on Netflix and other streaming networks. (I’ve lost track of co-workers who have told me that they are ‘really into Korean drama right now.’)
Of course, the biggest box office release of the year was PENINSULA, the sequel to Train to Busan. Tonally different to its predecessor, it’s still a cracker of an action/heist film – but with plenty of zombies. Indeed, the Zombie Wave shows no signs of letting up across South Korea with 2020 blockbuster #ALIVE – another great example of an #isofilm – along with period drama Kingdom and TCO’s recent Night of the Undead series both taking bites out of audiences.
Korea had a number of reliably thrilling thrillers, lead by the historical (and slightly controversial) THE MAN STANDING NEXT , a slickly produced capture of a moment in time that remains divisive to this day. The cast and photography are excellent. Similarly, BEASTS CLAWING AT STRAWS is as stylish and twisty as it is stabby. Director Kim Yong-hoon’s debut heralds a new voice to watch and possibly Korea’s answer to the Coen Brothers. Finally, the Netflix debuting A TIME TO HUNT is curious spin on the heist genre, a handsome production with a solid cast that elevates some familiar motifs in what is sure to be a future cult film.
I couldn’t get away without mentioning at least one K-Pop related film. BLACKPINK: LIGHT UP THE SKY is a fascinating documentary that may have made a fan out of me. Caroline Suh’s film digs at least a little bit beneath the surface of the ‘overnight’ sensations, showing us the years of training that goes into that debut.
While the Korean Film Festival was sadly cut short due to technical issues, what we did see was terrific. Zhang Lu’s FUKUOKA is another multicultural exploration of otherness, bringing an excellent cast and a winking sense of humour. Jung Jin-Young’s ME AND ME is a curious mixture of mystery and dreamlike abstraction, pulling on some unexpected threads – and is disarmingly funny at times too. BASEBALL GIRL is a low-key sports drama with a twist that bucks several of the conventions while maintaining a strong sense of character. Speaking of festivals, the experimental animation GHOSTS debuted in Australia at MIFF and it was a bright spot in an already excellent festival.
Finally, while MINARI wasn’t technically a Korean production, the US film from director Lee Isaac Chung is almost entirely in Korean language. As sweeping and character driven as any dustbowl classic, this is a beautifully constructed tale of otherness, family and surviving adversity.
China
It was going to be a massive year for Chinese film. Back in January, I wrote a piece about celebrating the Year of the Rat with a collection of New Year’s films. Yet as Covid started to make its way across China, those films began to drop off schedules. When I visited Melbourne in February, weeks before we all started going into lockdown, the Chinatown Cinema was temporarily shuttered up.
Yet film persisted and China released some major titles at either end of the year. October’s JIANG ZIYA: LEGEND OF DEIFICATION follows last year’s Ne Zha as an impeccably animated film that blends mythology, adult storytelling and modern conventions. It expands a cinematic universe while standing strong as its own tale. Li Yun-bo’s WILD SWORDS similarly remixes the wuxia genre, and it would almost be described as low-key and gentle were it not for the violent subject matter.
Lau Ho-Leung’s CAUGHT IN TIME is a based-on-a-true-story heist film that wears its influences on its sleeve but it’s stylish and there’s some damn fine set-pieces. There is the obvious comparisons with Heat, and John Woo’s The Killer is visually referenced with an actual clip from the 1989 cult classic used several times. Yet this is not to imply that Lau’s film is wholly unoriginal, as it has its own style and vibe to match.
MY PEOPLE MY HOMELAND was criticised as being excessively jingoistic, but to claim this and be done with it would be to ignore the role of the National Day films in Chinese popular culture. An anthology film that successfully lured Chinese audiences back to the box-office, this is a slick affair, and something you’d expect from the presence of Zhang Yimou as supervising director/executive producer.
LEAP, on the other hand, chronicles the history of women’s volleyball in China, and is often a film at war with itself. It’s an unsurprisingly nationalistic look at the successes of the team in the 1980s, the lead-up to the 2008 Beijing Olympics, the 2016 Rio games and beyond. Yet there are some unexpected conflicts with the official party credo on occasion, making this is a little bit more than a showreel.
Less successful was SNIPER, which somehow turned out to be the 100th film I saw this year. Feeling for all the world like an extended TV pilot, which a quick Google tells me exactly what this is, it’s nevertheless got the same levels of jingoistic action, sweeping shots of the desert and dodgy accents that we’ve come to expect (and love) in Chinese blockbusters. It’s a sniper film, so you better believe that there’s plenty of slow-mo bullet shots too.
As the year came to a close, THE RESCUE finally hit cinemas. Dante Lam’s highly anticipated action film may not have been a darling with the critics, but it provided some retro action when we (probably) needed it.
Hong Kong
It’s a massive understatement to say that Hong Kong is having a moment or two right now. In HONG KONG MOMENTS, writer and documentarian Zhou Bing follows seven Hongkongers in this timely and important snapshot of a critical moment in the history of Hong Kong.
On the flip side, co-production THE CALM BEYOND imagines Hong Kong’s future in ways that even Ten Years (2015) could not. An alternatively tense and understated bit of speculative fiction, this collaborative production is a slick affair that is one of the better recent examples of genre fare.
SUK SUK, a film about both ageism and homophobia in Hong Kong, had been on the festival circuit since 2019, but got a wider release internationally this year. On some levels, Yeung’s film is more successful as a message delivery device than as a narrative piece. Yet for an industry where gay characters have frequently been used for comic effect or as the best friend in a rom-com, Ray Yeung’s film represents something of a quantum leap for Hong Kong cinema.
Of course, Dayo Wong Tze-Wah’s THE GRAND GRANDMASTER also came out this year, a throwback and mild parody of martial arts master epics. It is all over the place tonally, but its charismatic cast and some broad comedy is designed to appeal to a wide audience. It’s been a year for lacklustre Hong Kong throwbacks: Donnie Yen headlined a remake of ENTER THE FAT DRAGON, while the ironically named ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 2020 – the seventh sequel to the 1992 film – saw Raymond Wong return to the franchise.
Taiwan
Taiwanese history had an unexpected boost early in the year when Netflix debuted TIGERTAIL in April, a curious tale that aims for understated romance against a historical backdrop, but its thin plotting and character development keeps the audience at arm’s length.
Yet it was iWEIRDO that high the festival circuit this year, with screenings at both the New York Asian Film Festival, Fantasia and beyond. Focusing on a couple in a relationship while living with OCD, it’s as charming as it is real. Made before the pandemic, and shot (almost) entirely on an iPhone – save for a few clear special effects sequences – a couple wearing masks and gloves to go outside doesn’t seem that ‘weird’ at this end of 2020.
Speaking of festivals, the always reliable Taiwanese Film Festival in Australia, now in its third year, highlighted some recent cult favourites. The zombie theme continued with THE GANGS, THE OSCARS AND THE WALKING DEAD, video game adaptation DETENTION and director Hsiao Ya-Chuan in focus.
YOUR NAME ENGRAVED HEREIN hit Netflix in the last weeks of the year. Taiwan’s highest-grossing LGBTQI+ focused film, the remarkable story is based on true events from the late 1980s in Taiwan and contains a tribute to gay rights activist Chi Chia-wei.
Well, that was a year.
Usually at this time of December, I’m madly scrambling to squeeze in the last few ‘for your consideration’ screeners for the year. I’d be lamenting that all the award-winners won’t be out in Australia until next year. Of course, 2020 has thrown up its own unexpected tickets. Now we’re just waiting out the clock to see if we get a Groundhog Day reset at the end of the month.
The global pandemic has cost arts and media in Australia an incalculable amount of income, not to mention all the surrounding supporting businesses that rely on casual trade from a night out at the movies or theatre. Yet film has persisted.
Festivals went online – including the Sydney Film Festival, MIFF, KOFFIA and the Japanese Film Festival – and major releases went straight to digital. Universal’s Trolls World Tour was an early success, paving the way for Disney’s releases of Onward, Mulan, Hamilton and Soul to name a few. The King of Staten Island even got moved forward while Scoob!, Capone and The Lovebirds kept their release dates but shifted format.
As Australia managed to get our local transmissions under control, cinemas reopened to cautious patrons. Still, with the genie out of the bottle, one wonders if we can ever be satisfied with the way things were in the Before Times. Indeed, Warner stunned social media in December when they announced that their entire 2021 slate – including heavy-hitters Dune and the Matrix 4 – would appear in cinemas and HBO Max simultaneously.
Cinema has changed before and maybe it is time for it to change again. Even before the closures, every other think piece was lamenting the death of cinema. The best models always adapt to cater to the various markets. They will be digital, scalable, sustainable and personalised. As cinema ticket prices increase, the narrow view of a ‘true’ cinema often assumes large US/European markets. It’s also a little classist.
Mind you: we’ve been here before. TV was going to kill cinema. Then VHS, Laserdisc, Video CD, DVD, iTunes, piracy, the Internet, YouTube, and now subscription streaming. In May, we all reacted strongly to the rumours the George Street cinemas in Sydney would be torn down in favour of apartments.
As for me, increased digital choice led to a wider variety of decisions. Rather than simply reacting to whatever screeners I was seeing weekly, I explored Peter Bogdanovich, discovered the joys of Pre-Code Hollywood and got slightly obsessed with Hallmark Christmas films. It all cinema, and it was joyful.
In addition to the list below, favoruite first time watches from the Before Times included Pier Paolo Pasolini’s The Gospel According to St. Matthew, Ernst Lubitsch’s Trouble in Paradise, Teinosuke Kinugasa’s A Page of Madness, Tomboy, and Bogdanovich’s Paper Moon. I saw over 476 films this year (so far) over 704 hours, and I rarely stuck to a plan.
In fact, only one of the films on my top 2020 list (Mank) was seen in a cinema, and even that was from a streaming giant. 2020 may not have killed cinema, but it has forced us all to a different way of thinking. Time will tell if studios and filmmakers respond or valiantly plant the tattered flag.
Favourite Films of 2020
Hamilton
One of the rare films that many punters had already heard in its entirety, and perhaps seen performed on stage, long before it arrived on our screens. Filmed in 2016 and planned for a cinema release next year, the pandemic lockdowns (and a hefty payment from Disney) led to this being released on Disney+ on the July 4 weekend. It’s here at the top for two reasons. Apart from being an unabashed (and perhaps obsessive) fan of the Lin-Manuel Miranda musical, it represented more than just a large scale global release of a major film. It was a worldwide community coming together over music and theatre, recognising how lucky we are to be alive right now.
Da 5 Bloods
Spike Lee’s ambitious tale is not only an essential movie for our times, but easily one of the best films of a turbulent 2020. Back in 2018, I commented that Lee’s BlacKkKlansman was “a response to a country in crisis.” If that was the case, then this film is a dialogue with a world that has reached the same crisis point. Plus, while it wasn’t Chadwick Boseman’s final film, his spectral presence was a prophetic vision of his untimely passing only a few months later.
The Day of Destruction
If the world had not been actually plagued by a global pandemic, this would have dropped in Japanese cinemas on 24 July, the opening day of the Tokyo Olympics. If it had, some folks may have labelled it angrily seditious. In the absence of that large event, it stands as a shout of rebellion into the void of an indifferent world. Backed by Japanese death metal, it’s a frenetic mixture of sound, vision and fury that is impossible to be apathetic about. Yes, it’s all a bit shit right now, director Toshiaki Toyoda seems to be saying, but it’s up to you to do something about it.
The Killing of Two Lovers
An intimate and often tense portrait of a family in trouble. A highlight of this year’s MIFF, director Robert Machoian delivers this unassuming masterwork. After a powerhouse opening, this quiet film always feels as though there’s a massive explosion just around the corner. There are a few eruptions and, thanks to Machoian’s intense long takes, we feel every single beat. Take the title as you will, but it’s actually a strangely powerful family film.
David Byrne’s American Utopia
In 1984, David Byrne, Talking Heads and Jonathan Demme elevated the idea of the concert with with Stop Making Sense. With this hybrid film, he joins forces with Spike Lee to elevate both theatre performance and modern music performance. By removing everything from stage except what “we care about,” Byrne and his amazing ensemble strip away the clutter and present new songs and old in completely original ways. At times freewheeling, and at others it’s a marching band, but it’s always tightly controlled. This is Stop Making Sense on HBO money, and that’s better than a bag of chips.
Nomadland
Chloé Zhao’s strength as a filmmaker has always been her ability to get up close and personal with people, and that’s precisely what makes NOMADLAND so impactful. A thoroughly modern film that is also timeless. Or as Fern’s sister puts it, “I think Fern is part of American tradition.” It just may not be the romantic one they’ve idealised. I was worried that some more star power would ruin Zhao’s naturalistic aesthetic, but instead the opposite happens as the intensely amazing McDormand and the quietly powerful Strathairn are absorbed by their surrounds and the real-life nomads who pepper the cast. As always, cinematographer Joshua James Richards makes the landscapes a third major character. A must-see.
Soul
Pixar bypasses cinemas and goes straight into our hearts (and souls) with a gorgeously animated film that captures the introspection of a trouble year. Here is a film that tells us that just living life with its warts and all is something unique – even if you’re not into jazz. SOUL is a beautifully illustrated acknowledgment that failure is as much a part of living as success.
Never Rarely Sometimes Always
One of the things I most admire about Eliza Hittman’s filmmaking (It Felt Like Love, Beach Rats) is her ability to find intimate angles on her characters while staying observational and judgment free. Powerful in its simplicity, this film – about a young girl travelling to New York to undergo an abortion – should be a compulsory film for every lawmaker across the world. Scrap that: everyone should see this.
Wendy
The critical consensus has not been kind of this, but methinks time will tell. Benh Zeitlin expands on the magical realism of Beasts of the Southern Wild. Indeed, when I spoke with him back in 2012, he said his next film was “going to be another big folktale.” Eight years later he made good on this. It’s a beautifully shot piece, backed by a heartbreakingly magical score from Dan Romer, that explores the delicate line between childhood and adulthood, coping with loss and the importance of hope. You may not necessarily think you’d get all of these things out of a gritty reboot of Peter Pan, but there it is.
Mangrove
It speaks volumes that artist/director Steve McQueen’s film, the first in the Small Axe series for BBC (UK)/Prime Video (UK), feels so immediate and relevant in 2020. It is, after all, about the racially-motivated arrests and trial following repeated police harassment at the titular Notting Hill restaurant in 1970. Performances are exemplary, editing is tight, and the procedural nature of the courtroom keeps the narrative laser focused. Yeah, it’s going to be hard not to compare this with Aaron Sorkin’s similarly courtroom-centric Trial of the Chicago 7. Yet this just goes to show that institutionalised racism is not limited to a single decade or country. Look out for some of McQueen’s other films in this series later in the list.
The True History of the Kelly Gang
As an Australian, we grow up with these stories with a mixture of national pride and shame. It’s like being Catholic on a federal level. So, it’s terrific to finally see a story that doesn’t play by the traditional rules. Justin Kurzel’s film is a fictionalised, and mostly beardless, adaptation of Peter Carey’s novel. At least one review described aspects of the film as “transgressive” and that’s possibly a good way of framing a film that constantly pushes the edges of historical masculinity. George MacKay and his Iggy Pop physicality is phenomenal casting. Essie Davis and Thomasin McKenzie are also standouts. Gorgeously shot, the measured pace is punctuated by extreme acts of violence and haunting imagery.
First Cow
In this udderly enchanting piece, indie filmmaker Kelly Reichardt returns to themes of bromance and natural realism without milking her recurring motifs. Indeed, it acts as a kind of companion piece to Old Joy. Where that film was a quiet study of two men taking divergent paths at the crossroads of adulthood, here those paths join up in quietly unassuming ways. Cookie and King-Lu have lengthy existential conversations in the gentle embrace of their natural surroundings, much like their counterparts Kurt and Mark did 14 years earlier (or 186 years later if you prefer).
Red, White and Blue
Steve McQueen’s third Small Axe film arguably brings many of the themes of the first two films together for a laser-focused character piece. John Boyega is sensational as someone walking with a foot in each world, not entirely trusted or liked by either. As a biopic, it never feels anything less than real. Another essential movie for 2020, and one that should be seen widely.
Lovers Rock
The second of the Small Axe films is hypnotic and (mostly) joyful. While it doesn’t have the courtroom platform of Mangrove, the thematic companion uses the dancefloor as its own place of defiance. When the needle drops (literally and figuratively), the mood changes and lets some of the darkness in. Or was it always there?
Mank
Whether Citizen Kane is still the greatest film ever made is a matter of regular debate, one I’ve engaged in from time to time. They were, like everything I’ve done, written entirely in the absence of Orson Welles. Yet almost eight decades after its release, it is unquestionably one of the most influential movies in the canon. Critic and historian Robert Carringer may have put the authorship debate to bed over 40 years ago, but thanks to David Fincher we have a lovingly detailed and vividly realised time capsule of this endlessly intriguing period.
Voices in the Wind
It’s been almost a decade since the tragedy at Fukushima and surrounding areas, yet the conversation around grief and healing is only just beginning for a generation, as this film demonstrates. In a year of some excellent films on the long-lasting impact of the Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami, including the fatalistic It Feels So Good, this rumination on grief is one of the most emotional impact.
Minari
As sweeping and character driven as any dustbowl classic, this is a beautifully constructed tale of otherness, family and surviving adversity. Like the ending, it will almost crush you but you’ll come out feeling strangely enriched. Lee Isaac Chung directs Steven Yeun (Burning), who continues to make excellent post-Walking Dead choices.
I’m Thinking of Ending Things
Normally, I can go either way with Charlie Kaufman: he’s either doing genius things with film that completely understands the medium, or trying desperately to be too clever by half. Here the balance is just about right, following the themes of his previous films while creating something that will require multiple viewings. In fact, while I normally scoff at any article titled ‘That ending explained,’ I was straight onto DuckDuckGo looking for answers at the end of this.
Palm Springs
If I was stuck in a time loop with a copy of a time loop comedy featuring the ultimate crossover between Lonely Island, Whiplash and How I Met Your Mother, I’d never want to get out of the pool. Yes, it’s Groundhog Day meets SNL, but somehow that’s peak 2020.
The Assistant
A fascinating and intimate portrait of life in a film production company (of ambiguous scope) from the point of view of the titular assistant. This all got a little real, having done some unpaid labour for a firm once upon a time – and that’s kind of the point. We all accept this behaviour as a matter of course as it’s part of the ‘culture’ of ‘earning your stripes.’ (Sidebar: perhaps this is my privilege speaking, but I do find it hard to believe that an HR rep in 2020 would turn a complete blind eye to a complaint in a large corporation). Regardless, terrific performance from the always great Garner and the understated vibe and minimalist approach just adds to the impact.
The Man Standing Next
A slickly produced capture of a moment in time that remains divisive to this day. Cast and photography are excellent. Joins A Taxi Driver, Spy Gone North and 1987: When the Day Comes in the ranks of top-notch, period political thrillers coming out of South Korea over the last few years.
Beasts Clawing at Straws
Speaking of Korean thrillers. A stylish thriller that’s as twisty as it is stabby, Kim Yong-hoon’s debut heralds a new voice to watch and possibly Korea’s answer to the Coen Brothers. Just remember: straws can kill marine life.
Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets
“There is nothing more boring than a guy who used to do stuff and he don’t do stuff no more because he’s in a bar.” Despite similar wisdom espoused by this and several other barflies, the Ross brothers actually prove him wrong in this completely enveloping night in a dive bar on its last legs. Freewheeling conversations and overlapping dialogue (think: beer-soaked Altman) result in equal parts profound thoughts and uncomfortable observations. Have a drink on me.
Fukuoka
While I have been shockingly slack in getting on top of Zhang Lu’s filmography, I adored A Quiet Dream a few years back and this very much felt like a continuation of his oeuvre. It’s impossible to not compare him with Hong Sang-soo (well, maybe not impossible: I’m sure I could have not typed that sentence but I did anyway), but there isn’t that sense that the other shoe is going to drop at any moment. Three excellent lead performances from the always terrific Park So-dam, Kwon Hae-hyo, and Yoon Je-moon. It’s the kind of film that could have kept going all day and you’d be cool with it. Now, to find the shortest path to the bar.
The Midnight Sky
A beautifully shot and meditative sci-fi film from George Clooney that sits at the intersection of hope and justified fear. There are elements of the denouement that will frustrate some viewers, while others may simply find the ending cold. Yet despite its post-apocalyptic backdrop and sci-fi setting, it’s also one of his most intimate character-based pieces, one that somehow perfectly hits on the isolation of 2020.
Beastie Boys Story
Yes, it’s Beasties TED Talk. Yet as an alternative to the endless talking heads documentaries, it’s a fun supplement to the Beastie Boys Book, the music videos and countless outtakes from early recordings. Can we call out the surviving Boys for back-peddling from frat antics of their early days? Maybe. Did I have a ball seeing rare footage and reminiscing about a few decades worth of fandom? Hell yes. The only caveat is that there was clearly a lot more footage shot – celebrity cameos, some on-stage performances and some casual riffing – some of which we see in the mid-credits outtakes. If there’d be a few more spots like this, rather than the polished autocue discussions, it would have been even better.
The best of the rest
Wait, there’s more! Really, this is just an extension of the list above. because Interweb sites like this insist on ranking and ordering things.
As Asia in Focus is a huge part of this site, films like the Japanese LGBTQI+ positive HIS and QUEER JAPAN impressed this year. The prolific Sion Sono released RED POST ON ESCHER STREET, arguably his most accessible and joyfully strange film in years.
Amazon’s UNCLE FRANK is filled with some terrific performances, obviously led by Bettany in the titular role, this winds up being a something more transcendent.
Pixar released several films this year, but few were as powerful as their short LOOP. Made under the SparkShorts program, Erica Milsom’s film takes a respectful and insightful look at the world through the eyes of a non-verbal autistic person. On a technical level, the animation is sublime. Now Pixar need to do a feature that is as progressive as this.
BIRDS OF PREY became the default highest grossing superhero film of 2020, aided greatly by it being a solid and ridiculously fun outing. Almost everything else got pushed to 2021, save for New Mutants and Bloodshot. The less said there the better. Wonder Woman was a late 2020 release, simultaneously in cinemas and digital, but one imagines its January numbers will be huge.
From documentary land, you couldn’t find three films more different than those in 2020. DICK JOHNSON IS DEAD is a remarkable blend of fact and fantasy that deals with the long goodbye of dementia. DARK CITY BENEATH THE BEAT is a visual poem dedicated to the dance scene of Baltimore. LOOKY LOOKY, HERE COMES COOKY is an often comedic look at Australia’s difficult relationship with our colonial legacy, asking us if we’re part of the problem or the solution.
Looking ahead to 2021
At the time of writing, Australia’s Covid numbers are looking (mostly) positive – but the rest of the world is a little more uncertain. For the moment, studios have optimistically set dates for 2021 and beyond.
You can almost directly transplant my Most anticipated films of 2020 to next year. Specifically, 007’s No Time to Die, Marvel’s Black Widow and The Eternals, Robert Pattinson as The Batman, the new crack at Dune, monster mash-up Godzilla Vs. Kong, and Sundance debuting Mayday.
We may even get to see the long-delayed Evangelion 3.0 + 1.0: Thrice Upon a Time in an honest to goodness cinema, assuming the Fourth Impact doesn’t happen between now and then. I’d also be lying if I wasn’t a little excited at seeing proton packs back on screen with Ghostbusters: Afterlife.
Whatever happens next year, you can count on two things. We’ll still be able to see movies somewhere, and I’ll occasionally write about them here.
The Reel Bits turns turns 10 years old today, marking its aluminium anniversary in the midst of one of the weirdest times in cinema history.
Anniversaries are a funny thing. They tend to mark how many years we’ve been doing, or in some cases not doing, a thing.
The Reel Bits is a thing I’ve been doing since 2010. For most of that time, it’s a thing I’ve thoroughly enjoyed, even when leaving it in benign neglect to pursue other interests, be they literary or romantic.
Some history
As some of you may know, it started as an offshoot of the now defunct DVD Bits and was aptly called The DVD Bits Blog. At the time, I was asking all the studios who were sending me lots of DVDs and Blu-rays to review if I could possibly attend some of those secret media screenings I’d read about on social media. One distributor promptly told me we weren’t really a film site so much as a home media site. So, I made one.
It was a slow start at first, cracking straight into such contemporary classics as 1922’s Haxan. You see, I’d briefly entertained the idea of doing all 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die, but ultimately realised that death was not such a great goal. Plus, I never wanted to feel like film was homework, even if my natural instincts are to make every list into a mini project.
Secret worlds, something something
When the media invites came not long afterwards, it was actually kind of weird. They were often in hidden screening rooms around the Sydney CBD – in office towers, underneath iconic theatres, or in bloody hard to get to waterfront locales – and sometimes came with surprise freebies.
One of the earlier screenings I went to was The Tourist, an Angelina Jolie and Johnny Depp film I said had “no chemistry between the leads, [and] a core MacGuffin that makes less sense as the film goes on.” The gift we got was a faux airline travel kit full of toiletries. I like to think it was a film so bad they literally gave us a blindfold and earplugs to get through it.
It’s been a wild ride though. There’s been some amazing experiences I wouldn’t trade for all the slippers at Qantas. Seeing Star Wars: The Force Awakens at the Sydney premiere, surrounded by life-size props and an excited crowd, was something money could buy. Getting to see Guardians of the Galaxy weeks early, mouth agape at its wondrousness, would be impossible to recreate – but I tried at least another four times at the cinema.
More than that, I’ve met some amazing people from other sites that I happily call my closest friends, including Alex Doenau (Batrock.net) and David McVay (Geek Actually), both of whom I will have messaged multiple times by the time I finish writing this. When I got super depressed on at least two major occasions and almost chucked it in, they were amongst the people who kept me sane and in touch with the things I loved. (I dare not mention more people for fear of forgetting someone).
A life in film in numbers
2,203. That’s how many movies I’ve watched over the last 10 years. That’s an average of about 220 films a year. It’s less than one a day, slacker that I am, but it does mean that some years were significantly more.
I’ve posted to the site 3,831 times, including about 1,150 reviews (or around 115 a year) for the ‘Bits alone. That’s in addition to the 261 podcast episodes on David McVay’s Geek Actually network, 815 comic book reviews for Behind the Panels and Newsarama, dozens of radio appearances, articles and essay contributions, a masters degree and a book. While working full time as a librarian. (No wonder I had a few burnouts).
Other people have contributed to the site, and I need to thank Bruce Munro, Paul Ryan, Chris Elena, Ben Harlum, Blake Howard, Paul Grose, Jennifer Verzuh, Sean Riley, Alex Doenau and many others for their reviews, articles or interviews delivered in a pinch.
Best Bits
Running this site has been a pain at times, and I’ve quit more than once, but never for long. It’s probably because it’s opened up so many doors for me as well. I’ve had the opportunity to attend the Sydney Film Festival, MIFF, and the Japanese Film Festival as accredited media. I even became a marketing assistant at KOFFIA one year, and was a guest judge on their short film competition too.
I’ve been privileged enough to interview so many people I’ve enjoyed the work of or come to admire. My very first interview was in 2011 with Tom Hiddleston and Jaimie Alexander for Thor, which was the same day I met my friend David. Since then, I’ve had the distinct honour to speak with J.J. Abrams, Jason Bateman, Charlie Day, Jason Sudeikis, directors Glenn Ficarra and John Requa, Steve Carrell, the lovely Tran Anh Hung, the insanely nice Hugh Jackman, Salma Hayek, Antonio Banderas, Brad Bird, Simon Pegg, Joe Cornish, Hugh Grant, Tony Gilroy, and Edgar Wright.
A highlight must be speaking with Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum together in a Sydney hotel room, and I’ll happily admit to getting starstruck there. Similarly, Jason Segal asked me at the start of my interview with him whether I wanted to do it sitting down or hop into the nearby bed with him. It’s to my eternal regret that I choose the former.
What I’ve really loved is chatting with people on the cusp of new projects and seeing them come to fruition years later, like Benh Zeitlin or Colin Trevorrow. There was Australian legend Ivan Sen, for example, who described his then-upcoming “genre film” with “a big shoot-out in the film at the end.” It was Mystery Road, which ultimately spawned the sublime sequel Goldstone and an award-winning TV series.
Is this a humblebrag? Very much so, but it also comes from a place of immense pride and gratitude. I make these lists to remind me of why I do this.
There’s an unpublished Wreck-It Ralph interview on a hard drive somewhere with Sarah Silverman, John C. Reilly and Rich Moore that was one of the most fun things I ever did, but a brief personal folly sent me off the rails immediately after recording it. For six months. One day it will see the light. One day.
Favourites films
So, I couldn’t sign off this celebration of Bits without answering the thing I get asked the most: what are the favourite films you’ve seen?
In the last decade, I’ve given out the coveted 5-stars (which I dub Certified Bitstastic) just over 20 new-release films, which – if you’ve been paying attention – is about 1% of my total viewing. Each year, writing the best of lists gets a little harder.
Instead of trying to find a Top 10 from the whole list, I’ve chosen a favourite film from each year.
2010 – Meek’s Cutoff
It’s unsurprising that my favourite film at the start of the decade was a western, as I spent a fair chunk of 2011 writing about them and still am slightly obsessed. Over the years, I’ve come to appreciate Kelly Reichardt’s brand of measured cinema even more, and her celebration of women, gender roles and experiential view of history. Plus, this missed out on being in both my 2010 and 2011 lists due to the timing of its release in Australia, so placing it at the top of the list here feels like justice served.
Runners up: True Grit, Solanin, Biutiful
2011 – The Tree of Life
The night I first saw Terrence Malick’s masterpiece was at the Sydney Film Festival in June 2011. It was my fourth film of the day and not even my last that night. Yet almost a decade later it remains one of the most powerful films I’ve ever seen. As I said at the time, “Beautiful and haunting, [it’s] what cinema was created for.”
Runners up: Melancholia, The Muppets, Super 8
2012 – Holy Motors
In a year that I very nearly quit the site for good, partly due to burnout and partly due to other reasons, I loftily proclaimed that is was “one of the most original films of the century” and that it was “equal parts magic and insanity, and a reminder of all the things that cinema has to offer.” The distributor seemed to agree with me because they slapped it along the top of the bloody poster. I’ll admit I’ve not watched it since, so I have no idea if my declaration stands.
Runners up: Wolf Children, Beasts of the Southern Wild, Like Someone in Love
2013 – Frozen
While I don’t have kids, the words to Frozen are still in my head and in my heart. According to my records, I saw this a couple of days after the North America release and a few weeks before the Australian debut. It was a brief period of time between Frozen becoming FROZEN™. Now it’s a Disney film as iconic as any of their classics, but all I know is that I’m currently humming “Let It Go” – and you are too.
Runners up: Jodorowsky’s Dune, Like Father Like Son, Only Lovers Left Alive
2014 – Guardians of the Galaxy
My records are patchy throughout a turbulent 2014, but one thing brought me more joy than anything else: the tenth film in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I remember sitting next to my friend Dave Longo at a media preview and wanting to get up and applaud during the title drop, something we did emphatically by the end. It was with Dave that I saw it back-to-back twice at IMAX a few weekends later – but also with McVay at least one other time in between.
Runners up: Chef, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, Captain America: The Winter Soldier
2015 – Mad Max: Fury Road
The Sydney premiere of George Miller’s long awaited follow-up was an event almost as memorable as the film. The distributor didn’t anticipate how many people would show up, and they were continuing to open up cinemas to make room for all the ticket holders (and a few who didn’t). A good 90 minutes after we were originally supposed to go in, the opening scenes rolled – and it was worth every second of lining up. A true Australian genre masterpiece.
Runners up: The Revenant, The Hateful Eight, The Boy and the Beast
2016 – The Neon Demon
This is a film I travelled to see. Well, sort of. Debuting in Australia at MIFF 2016, I saw this with a willing audience and have no sense of how it translates outside of that rarefied air. At the time, I said that it was “Showgirls if it was conceived by David Lynch” because it sounded good in a tweet. It’s still a good line and I stand by it so much that I’ve used it again here. So there.
Runners up: Lovesong, Moonlight, Nocturnal Animals, Goldstone, American Honey, The Handmaiden (what a year).
2017 – A Ghost Story
Before seeing this film, a fellow blogger vividly described the walkouts on the first session of David Lowry’s film, accompanied by an almost onomatopoeic description of the Pie Scene. It only heightened my anticipation. ‘Slow cinema’ was never so engaging – and that’s saying something in a year when The Florida Project very nearly took this slot.
Runners up: The Florida Project, Mother!, Sweet Country
2018 – Shoplifters
You see that Asia in Focus logo in the top right corner of the site? I take that pretty seriously. So when Kore-eda Hirokazu’s latest film became one of the most highly acclaimed of the year, it was the recognition for something I’d always known: he is one of the greatest Japanese filmmakers since Ozu.
Runners up: We the Animals, BlacKkKlansman, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse
2019 – Portrait of a Lady on Fire
The most recent of these was a very close call. In a year when luminaries like Martin Scorsese pondered what ‘real’ cinema was, Céline Sciamma – the first woman to win the Queer Palm at Cannes – delivered a staggeringly powerful and evocative romance. It sent me down a path of discovering more Sciamma this year and that has been a joy as well.
Runners up: Pain & Glory, Avengers: Endgame, Parasite
2020 – TBA!
As we enter the second decade of The Reel Bits, cinema is slowly coming back to life in the middle of a pandemic. Yet it hasn’t stopped some new releases coming out that have blown my little socks off: Da 5 Bloods, The Man Standing Next, Wendy and Hamilton are already contenders for my favourites of 2020.
Here’s hoping the world heals a little more so we all come together again in a cinema and enjoy those collective moments. I’m looking forward to the next decade, the return of cinema in 2020 and whatever treats are waiting between now and 2030.
A final note: The Logo
The Reel Bits has undergone many changes over the years, both stylistically and in its content. One of the more prominent changes was the introduction of the current logo.
Designed by my friend Nima Afshar in 2011, he took at look at what I was trying to do with pictures of popcorn, ticket stubs and film reels and boiled it down to the essentials. It evokes a five sprocket film reel while maintaining a clean Helvetica font. It’s served me well over the years, and it’s appeared on business cards, banners, programs, and even on the cinema screen when I’ve been a media partner at a festival.
For the first time, here’s a look at the original design concepts and colours. I think you’ll agree that the blue was a good choice.
If redevelopment plans for one of Sydney’s most iconic cinemas succeeds, then fans, festivals and filmmakers must ponder what the future of the city’s film scene will look like.
Film is important.
It’s a comparatively newer art form, if you hold it up against literature and theatre, but there are few communal entertainment experiences that continue to attract audiences in the millions.
More than that, cinemas are a meeting place. A communal experience. Whether it is a rousing chorus of fandom at the end of Avengers: Endgame or a collective gasp of surprise in the award-winning Parasite, it’s a unique experience that’s difficult to replicate in your lounge room. During the current global pandemic, the absence of that collective transformation has been keenly felt by audiences all over the world.
Now, with the announcement that there are plans to replace Sydney’s George Street cinemas with a 270-metre residential skyscraper, the possibility of returning to that experience has become a diminishing prospect.
Over the last few years, Sydneysiders have watched George Street transform. Indeed, with the seemingly endless construction of the light rail, the CBD looked less like a functioning metropolis and more like the post-credits scene of a Hollywood disaster movie.
It’s easy to say that you can replace the megacomplex with the smaller satellite cinemas. Broadway, Dendy Newtown, Palace Central, Moore Park’s Entertainment Quarter, and the Paddington cinemas are a stone’s throw away from the city centre, although programming differs wildly between them.
Take Asian cinema, for example, something that I have long supported on this site. Releases windows been inconsistent, but you could always rely on the George Street cinemas to be the one place that you could see these smaller boutique releases alongside the latest high-profile fare. Pushing smaller content into the suburbs is not feasible when those cinemas face their own balance between diverse content on limited screens.
Then there’s the historic aspect of this cinema complex as well, which first opened back in 1976. Now a giant Event Cinema, it was once split into three separate cinemas: Greater Union, Hoyts and a smaller Village cinema. While they joined together in 2001, there’s still evidence of this as you go over a little bump where the buildings meet on your way down from the lobby to the depths of Cinema 12. On a good day you would bounce between all three, or stay in one at devour all of the content.
While the development proposal incorporates a boutique cinema, for many punters the admittedly grungy site represents more than a place to see a film. It’s a hang-out, a night out and a meetup spot. Outside of the Town Hall steps, is there a more recognisable place on George Street to wait for your friends or date?
“I have been going to that cinema since it opened as Hoyts in the mid-70s,” says David McVay, film fan, podcaster, blogger at Geek Actually and good friend of the Bits. “I saw Battlestar Galactica and The Amazing Spider-Man, Capricorn One and Damnation Alley and so many more memories,” he adds. “I practically lived there in the ’80s.”
SIDEBAR: George Street has a rich history of cinema. In the 1930s, the Hoyts Century Theatre was a single-screen gem that ran first-run films. It was demolished in 1983. There were also cinemas like the Globe Newsreel on the current site of the Metro (which also briefly housed a Dendy), and the 2000-seat Plaza Theatre in the heritage listed building next door that has since been home to Planet Hollywood and the Star Bar. (Photo: The Century Cinema. Credit: Ian Hanson/Cinema Treasures)
Event has tried a number of different ways of rearranging the George Street space in the last few years as well. Building on the success of the premium tier Gold Class model, their new Boutique screens offer “theatrical, bespoke, design-led cinema experience.” There’s also the 4Dx screen that shakes the seats and sprays water on audiences in order to make the theatre experience more immersive. Of course, this also means fewer screens to play regular sessions.
Event’s departure would mark the latest in a series of closures. When I was first pursuing my attempts to be a ‘serious’ film watcher in the late 90s, I had a plethora of cinemas to choose from. There was the Pitt Street cinemas (right next to the Brashs), the Rialto Mandolin on Elizabeth Street, Dendy Cinemas on George Street and at Martin Place and, of course, the George Street cinema complex on the current site of the Event Cinemas.
More recently, Dendy Opera Quay announced its closure as it came to the end of a lease. This, however, will remain open to Sydney audiences under the new administration of United Cinemas.
I’m not naive to the realities of business and the desirability of Sydney as a place to live. Yet part of that appeal comes from what we have to offer our people. In 2010, Sydney was declared a UNESCO City of Film. part of the bid was “to promote the enjoyment of screen culture by Sydneysiders and tourists for cultural and economic benefit.”
It’s difficult to imagine how that works in the absence of flagship cinemas like the ones on George Street. They have been the home to events as broad as the Sydney Film Festival or as specific as the country-based festivals like the Japanese Film Festival. They have provided homes to indie releases through special event nights, and red carpet premieres to some of the biggest blockbusters. (Half of Sydney has a story from the Mad Max: Fury Road opening night).
As pandemic restrictions ease around the country, we will want to start going back and doing the things we love again. So, we must ask ourselves as a city: what kind of place do we want to return to and what do we want the future to look like?
Edited and updated on 15 May 2020.
Like every other blogger on the planet, weeks of obeying quarantine laws and social distancing has resulted in the urge to write. Yet for me, it’s also meant that the mind-frame needed for writing is in its own quarantined corner.
If you’re anything like me, then you have a beard and enjoy wearing Hamilton t-shirts. You’re also a bit unnerved right now. Perhaps you’ve also managed to push that feeling down into a little ball, right next to the Catholic guilt and need for constant approval you’ve cultivated since childhood. The one you drown in vodka martinis and cheese dip. Then tweet a lot.
Suffice it to say, this year’s best laid plans have gone awry. I’d actually planned to take a little step back from reviewing as many current releases as I did in 2019, focusing instead on long-form writing and reacquainting myself with the history of film. Little did any of us know that decision was going to be made for us.
It’s funny, actually: in January I started my monthly column on Asia in Focus releases, celebrating the Lunar New Year schedule. These were all rapidly pulled from release as a result of the Coronavirus outbreak in China, although it wasn’t obvious this was the beginning of something.
In retrospect, it was a warning shot as to how COVID-19 would impact the arts around the world, as cinemas and theatres closed and the entirety of the US summer slate was rescheduled and reformatted.
Yet these are the things that we geeks live on, and a shortage of films and festivals is only secondary to the fear of not having toilet paper. As the Sydney and Melbourne film festivals were cancelled in short order, our island’s outlet to new release cinema was severed with it. It’s been said many times during this pandemic but it bears repeating: art is what we turn to in time of crisis, and now art itself is at a crisis point.
The thing about art is that it endures. Major studios have been fortunate enough to pivot and release some material digitally, and I managed to catch up with the likes of Onward, Bloodshot, The Way Back, Emma, and The Hunt while maintaining a sensible social distance. Suffice it to say, none were worth risking viral infection over, but Onward is fun and Emma is a beautifully appointed update of a classic.
What I’ve really enjoyed is catching up on some films from the archives. As some of you may know, I’m a librarian in my day job and organising is in my blood. So, of course I spent the better part of the Easter long weekend decanting, organsing and cataloguing my substantial DVD and Blu-ray collection into alphabetical order. If I’m showing signs of going stir crazy, I’m more Rob Gordon in High Fidelity than Howard Hughes.
Without the excuse of not having enough time, or reacting to new releases and media screenings every week, I’ve caught up with over 40 films I’d never seen before since I started #IsoLife in late March. I’ve got a little bit of a 1970s and New Hollywood bent going, with a mini Peter Bogdanovich binge encompassing Targets (1968), a fascinating anti-gun film with Boris Karloff playing into type as an ageing horror movie actor. Naturally, repeat viewings of The Last Picture Show (1971) and What’s Up Doc? (1972) followed with (to my shame) a first viewing of Paper Moon (1973).
The 70s path led to gems like Hal Ashby’s satirical Shampoo (1975), featuring the first appearance of a 17-year-old Carrie Fisher, The Out of Towners (1970), a Jack Lemmon/Sandy Dennis comedy of errors that follows no logic but for the aggressive drudgery of the Big City, and John Schlesinger’s flawed but fatalistic examination of old Hollywood in The Day of the Locust (1975). Fun fact: it features Donald Sutherland as a man named Homer Simpson.
One of my favourite ‘finds’ in the last few weeks is Nobuhiko Obayashi’s infamous House (1977), which I’d never seen despite my love of Japanese cinema. I’ve had it sitting here for ages and never taken the time, I don’t think I was prepared for just how different this was to any of the thousands of films I’ve seen over the years. From the heightened colours and artifice of the joyful opening to the full-blown trip of a conclusion, I’m not sure I could do justice to explaining this. So I won’t.
Of course, these are all things I’d already spend money on and there’s a very real industry out there still needing your support. Stage and theatre owners, for example, are asking that we donate our ticket prices for cancelled shows so that they can survive another year. If you can afford to do this, it’s a great way to help them and their staff out in this time. Here’s some other stuff you can do:
I’d also like to share some unsolicited advice on dealing with #isolife. As someone who has always been very honest about mental health issues, I know this is hardest on those of us who have struggled with anxiety and depression in their lives. There’s always some people you can talk with if you need a hand.
Now, none of this has got me back to writing any of those books I’m allegedly working on. Indeed, writing seems to take about three times as long as usual. (See: earlier comment about anxiety). You could even argue that writing this was a whole lot of procrastination.
Here’s hoping your reading of this gave you a little inspiration of how you might be able to cope. More than anything, just be kind to yourself: enjoy those comforts of art, film, food and stay safe at home.
It’s 2019. The year that a young Tetsuo starts suffering blinding headaches in Neo-Tokyo, a fellow named Roy Batty leads a group of replicants out of the off-world colonies, Ewan McGregor and ScarJo try and escape and island, and a wrongly convicted police helicopter pilot starts running for his life in a reality game show.
In our branch of the Multiverse, life continues on its regular path. When I last wrote this column, I was struggling with getting some of those creative juices flowing. I also mentioned that I was working on a number of projects. My resolution this year is to keep the world updated about what I’m doing in the hope that it will motivate productivity.
So here’s what I’m working on so far this year:
It’s a working title, but I’m working with a publisher I know to edit a volume on one of my film series of all time: Back to the Future. I’ve assembled an amazing group of international authors to talk about everything from the films themselves to the TV series, the comic books, and the video games. They touch on issues of ethics, gender, science, and myth-making. I’m contributing at least one piece on the history of time travel cinema, something I’ve spoken about in the past (at Sydney’s MCA and on ABC Overnights) and written about here. I can’t wait to start sharing it with you.
It’s been over 30 years since the original Hellblazer comics hit the stands, and John Constantine continues to populate our pages and screens to this day. I’m contributing a piece to another edited volume on the character, specifically The Hellblazer: Rebirth run by writer Simon Oliver. It’s a nice change of pace to be writing for someone else’s book rather than creating my own. If there’s a lesson I’ve learned then it’s that writing is a vocation, and sometimes your project chooses you.
This book is going to be about YOU. Possibly my most ambitious project to date, I do no expect this to get done in 2019, even if it is way more topical than my usual historical perspective. It started as a PhD proposal, but I didn’t have the time to fit it in my work/life balance. So I went ahead and wrote the 340-page Moving Target: The History and Evolution of Green Arrow instead. There’s writer logic for you.
The intention of Stop! Do Not Read This Book! is to explore the complex relationship between readers and comics over the last 80 or 90 years. Comics have writers and artists and publishers, but it’s the very act of us reading that gives them life. It’s real tree falling in the woods kind of thinking.
I initially explored this idea for a short piece over at Sequart, but I soon found the concept of Multiverses and reader interaction fascinating. We are in a very real way changing the way that comic book heroes are consumed by switching our interests to films and games, cosplaying, writing fan fiction, and positively influencing those worlds. On the flip-side, there’s ComicsGate: a group who feels that “forced diversity” is ruining comics, so much so that there have been reports of threatened violence against creators and retailers, including some of the subjects of the movement leaving social media from constant harassment.
Make no mistake: my book intends to be about those of us who love comics and engage with the text and creators in meaningful and universe-changing ways. It’s Umberto Eco meets Scott McCloud by way of Grant Morrison and Julius Schwartz. There: the nerdiest elevator pitch ever.
There was another project I was working on prior to commencing this one. It was going to be a biography of Mort Weisinger, creator of Green Arrow and Aquaman and the Superman editor for decades. I even went so far as to write the first two chapters. He’s a fascinating dude: founded one of the first literary agencies for sci-fi writers, entered comics near their birth, became a notoriously temperamental editor at DC Comics for decades, was behind most of the ‘weird’ Superman stories of the 1950s and 1960s, became story editor for the Adventures of Superman television series, and wrote a novel about the lives of pageant contestants (!). Fascinating story with absolute no commercial legs.
I may still write it up in some form (even as a magazine piece), but here’s one thing I learned from the experience. It’s okay to abandon a project if it isn’t working out, or at least put it to one side for a while. Keep writing and sometimes this stuff works itself out.