Comments Off on My top five Studio Ghibli Films of all time (so far)
The silent blue image with Totoro and some Japanese characters hovers momentarily, before fading into hours of animated perfection. It preempts the strange creatures, mythical worlds and beautifully complex characters to come, and so this blue image now excites me more than any other title sequence to a film. More than the turrets of the Disney castle, more than blue letters on a starry screen heralding a tale of a galaxy far far away. Those might have been my childhood favourites, but the Studio Ghibli films were undoubtedly my teenage favourites and I daresay will continue to be some of my favourite pieces of cinema until the day I die.
I haven’t yet watched them all, and I’m not in any hurry to. Watching each one for the first time feels better than savouring the most rare and delicious treat in the world, so I would like to make them last, even though rewatching them for comfort or to appreciate them more deeply has its own special appeal. But, since watching Spirited Away in Year 7, these are my favourite films to come out of the Japanese animation studio so far. So, if you’re just getting started, you’re welcome to use this as a guide—or if you’re a seasoned Ghibli fan, have fun judging my taste!
Whisper of the Heart (1995)
What makes this film so special is how enchanting it is—in a subtle way, quite different from the intensely fantastical Howl’s Moving Castle and Spirited Away. This subtle magic permeates every aspect of the characters’ lives, from the appearance of the same name in the front of library books to the strange and ethereal items in an antique shop tucked away in a nondescript corner of Western Tokyo. The summery urban setting is intoxicating and the monotony of everyday life is quietly magical, a soil which nourishes dreams and the imagination. The story centres on two school students, Seiji and Shizuku, as they share their dreams and encourage one another to work towards them. The subtlety, the nostalgia, the mystery and the gorgeous visuals are what makes this masterpiece not only my favourite Ghibli film, but my favourite film of all time. And Shizuku, please learn to look before you cross the road.
Howl’s Moving Castle (2004)
This one is tried and true and absolutely spectacular. The plot is crazy in the very best way and even now, having watched it three or four times, I am not entirely sure of what’s going on, but I’m starting to piece it together. But the wonderful insanity does not detract from the stunning animation, the beautiful colour palette and detail and Joe Hisaishi’s sweeping soundtrack as a mysterious wizard renowned for stealing hearts swoops down from the sky and walks Sophie, the protagonist, through the air over the crowds below. Based on the Dianne Wynne Jones novel, the film analyses what it really means to be beautiful and entertains the audience with quirky characters and a heavily layered plot. And, I admit, I always giggle a bit at the line, “Looks like your true love is in love with someone else.”
Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984)
This one brings back memories of hot, late November days in my last Japanese class of high school. Afterwards, we went and ate sushi and cried about having to leave and thanked our teacher for the past few years. The setting of this film is lush with worldbuilding and layered in narrative complexity, from the slow revelation of this world’s past to the alarming threats old and new the characters must face. The beautiful soundtrack, also courtesy of Hisaishi, adds yet another dimension to complete our immersion in the story. After watching this film, I had that feeling of immense satisfaction which only comes from consuming a true masterpiece of media.
The Boy and the Heron (2023)
Somewhere between Spirited Away and My Neighbour Totoro in terms of the level of fantasy, The Boy and the Heron strikes a slightly subtler note, yet one that is strange and somewhat unsettling. Like in other Ghibli films, the audience is brought into an unfamiliar world of friends and fiends, of triumphs and challenges, imbued with magic and otherworldliness. We follow the protagonist, Mahito, as he grapples with loss and grief. Regarded as the culmination of Hayao Miyazaki’s film career, this one requires deep thought—a couple of rewatches would probably be rewarding—but is nonetheless enchanting. And the Warawara are possibly my favourite cute little creatures to ever come out of the Studio, second only to the Soots from Spirited Away. Thank you, Miyazaki, for coming out of retirement.
My Neighbour Totoro (1988)
It’s impossible not to love this one. It’s heartwarming, weird and aesthetically beautiful, imbued with childlike wonder and the magic of nature—the very essence of Studio Ghibli. The story centres two little girls, Mei and Satsuki, who have just moved with their father to an old house in the countryside. They have fun exploring their new home and the garden around it. One day, Mei wanders off while following a little rabbit-like creature in the garden and this gives way to the discovery of strange but friendly beings who make for unconventional yet perfect neighbours. It is a classic, and it is brilliant.
One day, after I’ve watched a few more films, I might come up with a revised list, but these are my top five at the moment. What hits me every time I watch these films is how brilliant the art of Studio Ghibli is. It goes beyond just aesthetic beauty. The art is inextricably bound to everything the films stand for—respect for nature, respect for each other and the deep and complex beauty of being human. I’m not convinced that anyone or anything ever will be able to replicate the sheer genius of these works. I hope you enjoy!
Comments Off on An Essay on the Environment Department
A principled justification for these changes.
ANUSA’s department structure is one of its biggest strengths when it comes to its governance. Departments are fantastic — they give historically marginalised groups autonomy within ANUSA to serve their communities through advocacy and spending money as seen fit by that autonomous group. However, all students should have an equal say on the environment — it’s not autonomous to any group. Students are all equally entitled to have their perspectives and opinions heard.
At last year’s ANUSA election, 3000 students chose their preferred direction for ANUSA. This happens every 12 months. At a general meeting, notice is very widely distributed, and a quorum of 40 ordinary students is needed to pass the budget as prepared by the elected Executive. Comparatively, the Environment Department can choose to spend money if ten ordinary students show up — this is fundamentally and principally undemocratic.
The spending of money — on a non-autonomous issue — should be determined by representatives elected by the students, that is, the Environment Officer and the Executive.
This is why the governance review proposed this change in 2024 — before there was any discussion on the Environment Department’s misconduct. This is a principled change — to ensure that students have a say over the spending of their Student Services and Amenities Fee (SSAF) by their student union. This is a democratic change, and that’s where it comes from.
Why there is an imperative to make this change now.
However, it is imperative that this be done now. The Environment Department report — that I encourage everyone to read — details immense financial mismanagement over two years: $6,000 of student money used for Marxism and Keep Left conferences. This breaches the SSAF agreement we have with the ANU. It breaches our regulations, our Constitution, and our policies. It is severe mismanagement of student money.
I will note here that the 2025 Environment Officer claimed at SRC 1 that some of the SAlt spending happened under the 2023 Officer, who wasn’t a SAlt member. I think this is precisely why the change is so necessary. As I said above — this is a structural problem. Ten students who come to a meeting can spend money in such an egregious way, regardless of the elected Officer’s own views.
To this year’s Officer’s credit, she has and will continue to block spending in order to adhere to the regulations. But, as an association, we cannot guarantee that an officer in future will always, every single time, stand up to the Department and stop this breach. The structural way the Environment Department operates means there is considerable risk this will happen again.
We must have a system that addresses these structural problems and prevents any spending issues in the future.
To do this, the Environment Department must be removed from the department infrastructure. All departments are governed under Section 11, which entrenches and ensures autonomy (as well as explains how the departments are governed). The only way to ensure financial probity is to remove the Environment Department from this section entirely and move it to a different part of our Association. To do nothing, after being presented with clear structural problems and a clear breach of our rules and policies, would be an abrogation of our duty to the Association.
Addressing concerns, ensuring probity, and maintaining safeguards.
People have asked me, “Why can’t you just increase financial oversight?”
I say that this is precisely what we are doing. Our goal is not to change how the Officer and team do activism, but to ensure their spending aligns with the Constitution, regulations, and conflicts of interest policy. The only way to do this is to remove it from the Department governance.
The main change is that the Environment Officer won’t be able to spend autonomously anymore — we are doing this to prevent the risks of unconstitutional spending. This is also a principled change — the students vote for the Executive, who is enfranchised by these students to act in the best interests of the Association.
That is, if proposed spending by the Environment Officer is unconstitutional — they should, rightly, stop it. The Executive is accountable to the SRC and the student body, and that is why they are able to decide what spending is and is not within the Constitution, regulations, etc.
Regarding people’s concerns about the Executive overreaching and stopping activism, allow me to respond clearly and directly. There is absolutely no power for the Executive to influence the work of any officer. Only a general meeting can direct an officer of the Association, and the President cannot tell the Environment Officer what to do or what not to do. There is absolutely zero change in the powers to tell the Environment Officer what to do. I support the Environment Department’s work, and so long as it is in line with the Constitution and regulations — I will always fight to defend its right to activism.
Another concern is, “What if the Environment Officer has bad political views? Shouldn’t the Department be able to overrule them?”
In response, I refer you back to the principle I started with — that to elect the Officer last year, 1,600 students voted, and a majority selected the current Officer. Does anyone here who truly supports principles of democracy believe that ten ordinary people should be able to overrule the will of the election?
If, on principle, you think that ten random students should not be able to overrule 1,600 — then this alone should get you to vote this up at the OGM this week.
The next concern is: “What happens if an Executive gets elected wanting to defund it?”
In our Regulations for the Environment Committee, we have enshrined a minimum budget line of $2,000 — this money is always, every year, to be made accessible to the Environment Officer, and they can spend it on things within the Constitution, Regulations, and Policy — these same guardrails do exist currently, it’s just they are not followed. With the Executive approving spending now, we ensure they are followed. But, I’d also like to quote the answer I got from the 2025 Environment Officer, Sarah, when speaking to her about this issue. She told me that if this happened, then it would be the will of the students to elect the Executive that does this and democratically, that’s fine.
Regarding safeguards, here are all the things enshrined in the regulations we will pass to complement these changes to guide the new Environment Committee. I’ve mentioned a $2,000 minimum budget line to ensure the Environment Committee is funded, but these regulations also:
Provide the ability to elect co-convenors to support the Officer in their actions — this is no change from the current Department model.
Require the Committee to meet regularly — this means the Officer can’t abandon their Committee and not call meetings.
Bind the Officer to put any policies passed by the Committee to the SRC — this gives the committee power to suggest and recommend policy of ANUSA.
Force the Officer to report to the SRC every week on the actions of the Committee — this ensures transparency and accountability to the SRC, as occurs with the current Department.
I ran through these with the 2025 Environment Officer and asked for any further suggestions. The minimum budget selected was the highest point of the range that the Environment Officer recommended. The Environment Officer was happy with these regulations to help resolve her concerns and didn’t have more recommendations to add to develop them further. I am satisfied that this ensures the Committee is democratic, empowered, supportive, and effective in assisting the Environment Officer in continuing their activism.
These Regulations are guardrails to ensure environmental activism continues, while ensuring that it comes within the rules that we all must obey when spending student money.
Conclusions
I think it’s clear that the Environment Department changes make both principled and practical sense. This improves democracy within ANUSA, prevents further risks to ANUSA from unconstitutional spending, and ensures ANUSA will continue Environmental activism.
The Environment Committee will still back the Officer. The Environment Officer can still do activism. More power is in the power of all students and more students than ever before. Importantly, we protect the Association from severe mismanagement and breaches of our Constitution and Regulations.
I believe this change is incredibly positive and only strengthens our union further. I encourage everyone to go to the OGM on Wednesday, either in Marie Reay 2.02 or on Zoom, and vote in favour of these constitutional changes.
This article presents the opinion of its author and not that of Woroni.
Have an opinion you wish to share? Send it to our submissions inbox at write@woroni.com.au.
Comments Off on First Nations Literature Recommendations
Books written by First Nations writers provide for an extremely rewarding reading experience. The authors on this list are not only incredibly talented writers, but they also have critical stories to tell. In this list, I have compiled my ten favourite books written by First Nations writers.
Is That You, Ruthie? by Ruth Hegarty (Memoir, 1999 UQP)
In this memoir, Hegarty chronicles her experience residing in Queensland’s Cherbourg Aboriginal Mission in the 1930s. When she is four years old, Ruthie is forcibly separated from her mother under the Aboriginals Protection Act and moved into Cherbourg’s girls’ dormitory. She is sent out to work as a domestic servant as a teenager. Hegarty reveals throughout the memoir the strong lifelong bonds the dormitory girls develop with one another, forming an alternate family to compensate for the ones they had lost. Hegarty sources the title of her memoir from the all too familiar question that would ring throughout the dormitory as the matron attempted to identify the culprit of unfolding mischief. This moving story is illuminative, educative, and inspiring.
Me, Antman & Fleabag by Gayle Kennedy (Novel, 2007 UQP)
This novel is a compilation of vignettes, following an unnamed narrator, her partner Antman, and their dog Fleabag as they travel around Australia visiting their family and friends. Kennedy uses black humour to explore Indigenous life in contemporary rural Australia. The novel’s cast of characters is exceptionally vivid and iconic — a standout was Cousin Moodle, whose love of funerals made for a ridiculously entertaining chapter. Despite its comedy, some stories have a more serious and heart-breaking tone, such as ‘The Golden Wedding Anniversary’ and ‘Grandfather’s Medals’. The former examines the interrelation of racism and misogyny, while the latter dissects the treatment of Aboriginal servicemen post World War II. Me, Antman & Fleabag is a must-read novel.
Blood by Tony Birch (Novel, 2011 UQP)
Tony Birch’s Blood is an Australian classic for a reason — it is one of those books that is impossible to put down. This novel is set in the 1960s and follows two siblings, Jesse and Rachel. The story is told from Jesse’s perspective. It chronicles his struggle to care for his younger sister as they experience neglect, poverty, family violence, and abandonment by their mother. This is a story of adversity and the strong bond between siblings. Birch’s clever pacing, engaging plot and well-developed characters keep you turning the page until the very end.
Heat and Light by Ellen van Neerven (Short stories, 2014 UQP)
Heat and Light has been constantly at the back of my mind since I first read it two years ago. This is a powerful collection of marvellously written short stories. The first part, ‘Heat’, is set in the past, and it compiles short stories written from the perspectives of members of the Kresinger family. The second part, ‘Water’, is a novella set in a future Australia, exploring both queer identity and colonialism. The last part, ‘Light’, is a series of short stories set in the present, spanning urban and rural settings. The themes of family, belonging, and freedom are interwoven throughout the entire collection. By travelling across time and space, Van Neerven traverses the diverse experiences of Indigenous Australians.
Finding Eliza: Power and Colonial Storytelling by Larissa Behrendt (Non-fiction, 2016 UQP)
In Finding Eliza, Larissa Behrendt explores the true story of Eliza Fraser, who purported to be captured by the Butchulla people in 1836 after she was shipwrecked off the Queensland coast. Behrendt does not merely re-tell this story. Instead, she uses it to dissect the ways in which the First Nations people of Australia — and those of other countries — are perceived and portrayed by colonisers. Her intertextual analysis touches on Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe, Katharine Susannah Prichard’s Coonardoo, and Rousseau’s “noble savage” in order to examine colonial values and their contribution to Australia’s racial divide. This is an incredibly well-researched and argued piece of non-fiction.
The Yield by Tara June Winch (Novel, 2019 Penguin Random House)
The Yield is a beautifully written novel by Wiradjuri author Tara June Winch. The story consists of three strands. The first is the accumulation of a dictionary written by Albert ‘Poppy’ Gondiwindi in the last days of his life in the hope that he can pass on his people’s language and prevent it from dying alongside him. The second strand follows the protagonist, August Gondiwindi, as she returns to Prosperous House, located near the Murrumby River, for her grandfather’s funeral, only to discover that her family’s land is to be repossessed by a mining company. The third narrative takes the form of letters written by Reverend Ferdinand Greenleaf, a missionary amongst the people of Massacre Plains in 1915, to the British Society of Ethnography. Winch’s novel is a testament to storytelling, an evocative tale about cultural dispossession, the power of language, and personal identity.
Dropbear by Evelyn Araluen (Anthology, 2021 UQP)
Dropbear is an award-winning collection of poetry, prose, and memoir. At times satirical but always lyrical, Araluen examines settler-coloniality and personal history. She bends genres and forms to dissect Australia’s colonial fantasy and the myth-making that forms our contemporary culture. Despite her interrogation of the past and Australia’s complicated present, Araluen has hope for the future as she writes: “Look at this earth we cauterised / the healing we took with flame / I will show them a place / they will never have to leave.”
Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray by Anita Heiss (Novel, 2021 Simon & Schuster)
Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray is a historical fiction novel written by Anita Heiss. Heiss takes her inspiration from the story of two Wiradyuri men, Yarri and Jacky Jacky, who saved more than sixty people from the Murrumbidgee River during the Gundagai flood of 1852. Her novel follows Yarri’s daughter, Wagadhaany, whose life undergoes upheaval when her colonial masters demand she move away with them following the devastation caused by the flood. The novel explores the protagonist’s acute grief as she is separated from her miyagan (family). Through her characters, Heiss explores the cruelty of those who claim to act with good intentions and for the betterment of First Nations people. The novel is also a celebration of the Wiradjuri language, as stated by Heiss: “Using Wiradjuri language on the cover of my novel (and throughout the text) makes a strong statement…regarding the reclamation and maintenance of the traditional language of my family.”
Tell Me Again by Amy Thunig (Memoir, 2022 UQP)
Gomeroi academic Amy Thunig’s memoir, Tell Me Again, traces memories of a childhood defined by love and suffering. The author writes about growing up in a household troubled by incarceration and addiction, while experiences of homelessness, sexual assault and racism all accumulate to provide a sombre representation of the resounding effects of colonialism. The memoir transcends colonial tragedy by juxtaposing the moments of intense trauma with memories of happiness. Thunig’s life is a story of forgiveness, love, perseverance, and exceptionalism; their memoir is honest, insightful, and immensely moving.
She is the Earth by Ali Cobby Eckermann (Poetry, 2023 Magabala Books)
She is the Earth is a new verse novel by Yankunytjatjara poet Ali Cobby Eckermann. Unlike previous verse novels written by Eckermann, this collection is devoid of a conventional plot and characters. The poetry soars through the elements, commenting on water, air, sky, earth, and light. It is meditative — reflections on breath and breathing allow for a quiet and thoughtful exploration of grief and healing. However, the journey that Eckermann maps is nonlinear; healing is presented as an ongoing process, with trauma resurfacing throughout the story. Her imagery is beautiful and majestic, capturing the beauty of nature, fauna, and Country.
Comments Off on So you didn’t see ‘As You Like It’? What Ever Major Loser!
ShakeSoc concluded its 2024 season with what seemed like a celebration of some of their veterans, putting on As You Like It in the Ralph Wilson Theatre. Reframed in the style of the 2000s Disney classic Camp Rock, India Kazakoff and Kathryn Keane brought a new life to this Shakespearean comedy.
As You Like It follows heroine Rosalind as she flees her uncle’s court alongside her cousin Celia, whilst her lover Orlando similarly flees his brother’s court. Both end up at Camp Ardern, where Rosalind, dressed as a shepherd, pretends to cure Orlando’s love for Rosalind by having him woo her. Many characters are introduced along the way, and many marriages ensue à la Shakespearean comedies. While it’s not the easiest Shakespeare plot to follow, we think he may have broken the record for the number of weddings in a singular scene.
Yet another new venue in these treacherous times (a closed Kambri Theatre), the Ralph Wilson Theatre was a decent choice. While audience capacity was on the smaller scale, the stage size was adequate with room for characters to enter and exit through multiple wings. Maybe a niche critique from us — not that ShakeSoc had any control over this — was the uncomfortable plastic chairs that left our butts numb. Overall, this venue served the purpose of this production well, with professional sound and lighting rigs.
Directors Kazakoff and Keane are no strangers to a ShakeSoc production, which was evident in their well thought-out show. Directorial changes, including name alterations to parodies of Disney actors, a baptism using a spray bottle and a saxophone serenade, brought original comedy to a classic script. However, where some modifications to the script occurred for the Camp Rock theme, certain moments required additional changes to align with the direction, most notably a wrestling scene that became a guitar battle. Overall, more unique alterations were made to this show than previous ANU recontextualizations, allowing for a production full of nostalgia and laughter.
A standout performance from an overall strong cast came from first-year Angus Murray as Jacques. Whilst Shakespeare’s ‘All the World’s A Stage’ monologue can be a daunting undertaking, Murray rose to the occasion. Whilst Jacques is the melancholic foil of this show, this 2000s emo-esque interpretation of the role brought joy and humour.
This show witnessed the return of Toby Griffiths, playing Duke Frederick. Arguably the best technical actor, with not only the widest range and clearest diction, Griffiths should be once again applauded for another strong performance.
The backbone of the production was Georgia Nolan’s Orlando, acting as a consistent presence with occasional comedic moments. Further praise should be given to Chloe Tuazon’s Rosalind, who not only had strong romantic chemistry with Nolan, but potentially an even stronger familial bond with Ellie Fintoff’s comical Celia. Overall this veteran-heavy ensemble allowed for a strong cast that were able to play with differing interpretations of this script.
Lighting Director Jessica Luff’s use of a more professional lighting rig than Kambri’s was evident throughout, with contrasting colours, spotlights and fades ensuring an interesting overall lighting design. Whilst more minimal in the first Act, the best of this design was seen in the later half, notably the interrogation scene. Complementing Luff’s lighting was Sound Designer Tom Lyle’s sound design, featuring both music and background effects. At times, strange sound levels had us questioning whether music was intended for that particular moment. A highlight was the use of The Proclaimers ‘I’m on My Way’ during the journey scene, adding a comedic element to walking across a stage.
Set for this production consisted of a few large pieces, including a tent, a blowup boat, a paddle pool, and some greenery — though these were not used in the production. While these pieces set the scene, there was potential for more interesting and integrated designs. Overall, the props were within the specified period, complementing the direction choices, with fun nods to the 2000s including a Bluetooth earpiece, a Nokia flip phone and copies of Twilight. A moment of confusion occurred when Orlando emerged holding a crutch, later revealed to be a sword. Given the number of swords used in previous ShakeSoc productions, this seemed a strange choice.
Where set and props may have been minimal, costume design by Alana Flesser and Alex McNeil served to bring to life directors Kazakoff and Keane’s Camp Rock vision. Notes from the movie were evident in Rosalind’s double-denim layered outfit with a thin overly-long scarf, alongside Phoebe’s iconic jeans adorned with a pink butterfly and diamantes. But where the others were giving Camp Rock, Celia’s costume was giving Clueless, and we were disappointed when she didn’t have a costume change, although the iconic reveal of a headband compensated for this.
On the whole, As You Like It proved to be our favourite ShakeSoc show of the year. More committed to a distinct theme, drawing out as many jokes as possible yet still true to the Bard’s work, this production was an entertaining way to end ShakeSoc’s 2024 season. Congratulations to all involved in ShakeSoc productions this year, we can’t wait to see what 2025 has in store.
Comments Off on Nothing makes sense: The beautiful eeriness of Pomona
NUTS’ 2024 season concluded with the other-worldly Pomona, the first amateur production of this show in Australia. Neither of us had ever heard of this show, so we had very few expectations going into it, and upon leaving we were both taken by the complexity and hypnotic nature of this production.
This nonlinear work centres on Ollie, who is looking for her missing sister. Beyond this, much of the play is up to your own interpretation (we’re still coming up with competing theories about what it all means and how it ended).
NUTS staged Pomona at the Ralph Wilson Theatre. For a review of this space and the overall comfort of the seating, please refer to our review of As You Like It. For this production, the space served its purpose and beyond, with its multiple entry points adding to the ambience of this haunting experience.
Director Teagan Matthews should be celebrated for her ability to bring this immensely difficult script to life. From the moment you stepped foot into the theatre you were immersed in a spine-chilling experience that, due to the lack of intermission, never truly ended. It is evident Matthews not only read but consumed this script, and whether or not her understanding aligned with ours, it led to a thought-provoking show. Matthews’ use of physicality and movement was a particular highlight. In particular, the fight choreography between Isaac Sewak’s Charlie and Rory Carter’s Moe was well-executed and more realistic than most student theatre productions. The best directing by Matthews was the use of game pieces — both dice and Rubix cubes — to enhance the intensity of Ollie’s journey through the tunnels of Pomona. The direction and movement of this scene is difficult to explain in print, and can only be described as a beautifully intense triumph.
This performance featured a strong cast of seven, many of whom were fresh faces this season, all with the incredible ability to solve a Rubix cube on stage. We wonder if this was part of the audition process (Caitlin would have been cut). Sewak’s Charlie provided both comedic and dramatic moments throughout, and when acting alongside Carter, the pairing’s chemistry provided immense depth and range.
Kudos should be given to Alex Ellwood, whose stoicism never broke, contrasting the chaos of the surroundings. Ellwood was arguably challenged the most by the script’s time jumps, which necessitated various characterisations throughout the play, and Ellwood should be celebrated for a well-thought out performance. Marcelle Brosnan should also be applauded for acting as the show’s sounding board, providing some much needed clarity and mothering.
Though Malachi Bayley’s set never changed, it was adaptable, converting into an apartment, an office, a brothel, a gate and Pomona. The set featured multiple components that transformed what was otherwise a bare-boned theatre into Matthew’s mind. The creative set-up of black flats, some of which were adorned with graffiti and colourful posters, as well as a door, allowed for multiple points of entry, enhancing the mystery that is Pomona. Bayley also collated the props, which were well-integrated into the set, utilising the filing cabinet and numerous draws to allow for seamless transitions between scenes.
The costumes for this show were quite simple and not the focus. Whilst apt for purpose, they weren’t a stand-out of this production. A special nod should, however, go to the collection of nerdy shirts worn by Charlie throughout.
This show was technically exceptional. Both Paris Scharkie (sound) and Marty Kelly (lighting) were the creative glue holding this show together. Sound played a pivotal role in this show, with the consistent background noise making moments of silence all the more eerie. Kelly’s lighting design was interesting and truly utilised the entire capacity of the theatre’s set-up. The recurring motif of the kaleidoscope-like spiral when the Dungeons and Dragons game was being played was innovative and probably some clue about the meaning of this play, which we are still trying to figure out several hours later. The use of torches and hand-held lights in otherwise-darkness allowed the audience to feel involved in Ollie’s journey and the intensity of her path. Overall, both sound and lighting were extremely well-timed and rehearsed, aligning with even the most marginal of dialogue cues. Whilst often underappreciated, for this show in particular, it cannot be understated how impactful and considered the technical design was.
We hope one day to figure out the meaning of this show, but regardless loved every confusing and thought-provoking moment. Whilst attendance on the particular night we saw the production was low — a particular shame considering the incredible work and effort put in — hopefully, the reopening of Kambri (fingers crossed) in 2025 encourages more of ANU to experience student theatre.
Overall, NUTS should be congratulated for another incredible show and an impeccable season that was both cohesive and kept us on our toes. We can’t wait to see the direction NUTS goes in during 2025.
Comments Off on Swarming with talent: Wright Hall bee-witches with the 25th Annual Putnam Spelling Bee
When we heard that Wright Hall was making the brave choice to put on a production of The 25th Annual Putnam Spelling Bee musical this year, we were intrigued. Despite both being avid musical theatre fans, neither of us knew much about this show.
Putting on a musical is no easy feat, and Wright certainly impressed us with their ambitious delivery of this crowd-pleasing production. The show centres around a peculiar group of six students participating in a regional spelling bee. The six tweens are accompanied by three equally eclectic staff members, and four audience members selected from the crowd on the night. Each speller is highlighted with their own unique songs and backstory, allowing the audience to understand the motivation behind competing in the bee.
As we continue to explore the theatre venues of Canberra — seriously, did anyone know there were more than three? — Wright selected the Polish White Eagle Club. What seemed like a bizarre venue turned out to be a great stage, well-adapted for this show. In saying this, the set remained unchanged throughout, and this limited backstage crossing would have made most theatres suitable. The high stage had high school assembly vibes, and the only improvement that could have been made — not that Wright had any say in this — was the lack of raised seating. Overall, surprisingly the Polish Club has amazing lighting capacity and was a smart choice.
This production was directed by second-year Elizabeth Barnes, who should be applauded for her production of an ultimately cohesive and entertaining show. Barnes’ directing certainly brought out the best in this cast, whose individual talents were showcased in their distinct characterisations of their roles. A directorial challenge for this show is preparing your cast to be versatile and continually interact with the audience members brought on stage and Barnes certainly ensured both audience and cast were comfortable and engaged. Personally for us, with this particular cast, a comedic play might have been better suited. Due to the immense acting talent on-stage, and at times weaker vocal moments, a play would have highlighted the stronger aspects of the performance.
Spelling Bee did not require an excessive amount of choreography. Despite this, the choreography that was incorporated, led by Katie Leib, proved cohesive, entertaining and dynamic. One of the few numbers featuring the entire cast was ‘Pandemonium’ which proved to be one of the strongest choreographed numbers of the show. Not only was the cast in sync, but the audience members involved on stage were helpfully led along by the rest of the cast, making for a hilarious inclusion.
Centring the cast was Amy Gottschalk’s Olive, whose quiet but consistent presence showcased her extreme depth and range. Notably, the song ‘I Love You’ proved the most heartwarming number, showcasing Gottschalk, Emma Gannon and Jeremy Arndt’s stellar voices. Arndt was further featured alongside Liam Frost as gay dads, who perfectly brought the dance mom energy to spelling bees. Further standout characterisations were Maya Gribble’s nerdy child activist nerdy Logainne, Patrick Fullilove’s socially awkward and snotty William, as well as Madeline Gailee’s energetic and loveable Leaf. All actors should be applauded for their unique interpretations of these roles.
Costuming, led by Ilise Laidlaw, was a spot-on nod to the awkwardness of being a tween, with those embarrassing fashion choices we all went through. Special acknowledgement should be made to the hilarity of Logainne’s rainbow pride accoutrements and Leaf’s distinct cape and helmet, which enhanced their roles greatly. June Atkin’s makeup was nothing short of impressive in the way it aged Douglas Panch. A strange but entertaining inclusion was Mitch’s juice box tattoo, a nod to his character presenting the eliminated contestants with a commissary juice box.
From the moment the curtains lifted you truly felt as though you were in a high school auditorium ready to watch a spelling bee. Set designer Lizzie Cao definitely made use of Wright’s artistic talents, hand-painting numerous signs and banners to adorn the wings. Overall, while simple in some ways, this set was well-executed and a stand-out for this production.
One of the biggest issues we had with this production was the sound. Unfortunately for musicals with microphones, they are often unreliable and difficult to work with. Throughout the production, different cast members’ microphones periodically turned on and off, rendering some lines inaudible. Whilst significant efforts were made to improve this throughout, at times switching to hand-held microphones, this was especially unfortunate as at times cast member’s sound levels were unable to be heard over the backing track. In saying this, we are not entirely sure what the Polish Club’s sound capacity was to start with, and sound is often temperamental and may have improved for future performances.
Where sound sometimes had its faults, the lighting design of this show by Meg Mundy was well-timed and creative. Notably, the comedic spotlighting of an audience member in the seat reserved for Olive’s absent parent was precise and appropriately awkward for the moment. Creative rainbow lighting during ‘Pandemonium’ enhanced the hectic nature of the song, complimenting the choreography nicely. Overall, Mundy should be applauded for her well thought-through lighting design which kept the audience both engaged and entertained.
Whilst neither of us were sure what to expect with this production, we were both amazed by the talent of Wright Hall. From comedic interactions to heartwarming melodies and innovative set and lighting, this college should be extremely proud of what they achieved. Kudos to Barnes and all involved, and we hope Wright continues this legacy of strong college productions in the future.
Comments Off on A reminder to feed your dad: “Third Storey” debuts to packed audiences
Easily the bravest choice of NUTS’ 2024 season was their first ever full length student-written play, Third Storey, written and directed by Eli Narev and Adam Gottschalk (pictured above). We had little to no expectations walking into this show, and upon leaving could only describe it as “on crack, but in the best way.”
Third Storey follows prank influencers Jax and Gene, who have been awarded a grant to make a feature film. The play follows the chaos of their creative process as characters slowly stray from sanity in their attempts to adapt Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis into a one-woman motion picture. Locked in a three storey house, the script explores complex systems of rules, family dynamics, the hunger for perfection, and an attic full of possum shit.
The original script was witty, deeply funny, heart warming and often unexpected. Narev and Gottschalk should be commended on the multi-faceted nature of the characters they created, building an ensemble of individuals easily recognisable to a modern audience. Many of the script’s most tender moments occurred between Annabelle Hansen’s Judie and Beth Fuccilli’s Bev, where the writing touched on some of the difficulties of parenting, questioning to what extent we are all impacted by the choices our parents make. A standout writing and directorial moment in the first act came from an attempt by director-character Jax (played by Adelaide Hayes) to shoot the one-woman scene sequentially one line at a time. As the characters scrambled to perform quick changes, the comedic direction of Elizabeth Barnes’ Alison counting down by ones each time she switched personas had the audience dissolving into laughter.
While the script was excellent overall, it could have potentially benefited from further editing. The production — especially the first act — felt overlong at times. This length can be attributed to attempts to give too many characters tragic backstories, which were at times rushed, and lengthy duologues that could have been shortened or cut.
Turning now to the cast, both of our stand-out performances came from Fuccilli and Mischa Rippon as Bev and Graham, the loveable, stereotypical Aussie parents. The moment they stepped on stage they brought a refreshing lightness that cut through the length of Act One, being comedic, touching, and most importantly giving a sense of humanity to the show. The pair’s talent was further highlighted in the dramatic twist at the conclusion of the show, where despite blood pooling from his mouth Rippon, with stoic determination, refused to break character, whilst Fuccilli continued to movingly comfort her husband.
Paralleling their parents’ dynamics, the sibling duo of Hayes’ Jax and Callum Doherty’s Gene highlighted the range of these actors. In particular, Doherty’s raw, haunted expression at the end of Act Two silenced the audience. Another actor of note was Thomas Neil in his portrayal as the dorky, golden retriever boyfriend Dom who arguably had one of the more significant character developments throughout, emphasising Neil’s versatility as an actor. However other characters, like Pip and the Producer, felt a little rushed and underdeveloped.
An unconventional inclusion for this production was an original garment from Bridget Matison who created a one-of-a-kind cockroach inspired showgirl costume. This bold choice highlighted the eccentricity of the film being created, enhancing Barnes’ dramatic interpretation of Kafka’s Gregor as a cockroach. Additionally, the evening wear used for the award show scenes provided contrast to the otherwise ordinary costumes used throughout the rest of the show. Overall, the costume design led by Lara Connolly was cohesive and enhanced the portrayal of each of the characters.
The set for this production was exceptional. Credit must be given to set designer Katja Curtin and assistant set designer Grace Fletcher who managed to transform Kambri drama theatre into a convincing family home. There were two major sets, the first being the exterior of the house, with well-executed painting of black flats making the set look three-dimensional. The second set displayed the interior of the home, utilising a raised stage to highlight two of the three storeys. The set was further enhanced by the cohesion of the actors’ entrances and exits, at times circling behind the stage to illustrate the journey of travelling to the second floor. Furnished with effective props, this set is certainly a stand-out from the sets we have seen in Kambri this year.
Unfortunately, during the blackouts where set and numerous prop changes occurred the backstage crew moved at what felt like a glacial pace, with a lack of transition music, forcing the audience to hone in on the movements of the crew. Where the script was already long, this elongated the show further.
The lighting design by Jessica Peacock was effective, using spotlights and blackouts where necessary for the script. Whilst at times slightly delayed — Kambri lighting is notoriously unreliable — more creative lighting may have enhanced the script. An inclusion we might suggest would be varying the lighting when the camera was rolling to dramatically differentiate. Further, Genevieve Cox’s sound design was apt for purpose and well-timed.
Neither of us were quite prepared for the dramatic twist at the denouement of this production. All we can say from that ending for those who did not get to see the show is…remember to feed your dad. Overall, the show proved an immense success and we are excited to see what is next for the witty writing duo of Narev and Gottschalk.
I downloaded Letterboxd in November. For the uninitiated, Letterboxd is an app where you can rate and review and add new movies that you watch to your watched list. I wasn’t bothered with the rate or review function, to date I’ve only reviewed two movies. No, the downloading of this app precipitated the awakening of something much worse: a deeply competitive streak centred around beating everyone in my life in one category: number of movies watched.
Many late nights followed as I tried to remember obscure childhood movies to add to my watched list, and a burning desire was born to watch every new film released in cinema. A desire that I indulged as much as I could. I haven’t reviewed these films on Letterboxd, so what follows is a Woroni Exclusive (that no one asked for).
Here is my review of every movie I watched in cinema this summer, in the order that I watched them.
BIG SPOILERS AHEAD
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The Boy and the Heron
This didn’t have the same magic as the rest of Haiyo Miyazaki’s filmography. But the five minutes of screen time Florence Pugh’s character had made me very happy.
The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes
As someone who read the book… boy am I glad they didn’t include Snow’s internal monologue in this movie. It allowed me to focus on what’s really important: the #slay of his silly little outfits.
Saltburn
I watched this sitting in between my parents. Still loved it. I honestly can’t articulate why I love this film except to say, visually, intellectually, spiritually, conceptually, hornily, I loved it. I have a crush on every single person involved in the making of this film. I want to kiss them all directly on the brain.
Poor Things
I also watched this sitting in between my parents. This was worse. However, Emma Stone was incredible. The sets, costumes, world building and cinematography were similarly inspired. What I can’t get past is that they showed us a woman who had had her unborn child’s brain transplanted into her head and then we were expected to find it attractive when we saw her masturbate and have copious amounts of sex (with the brain, mannerisms and speech of a toddler). It’s important to note that the narrative does not condemn these men for finding her childlike personality attractive. I’m all for celebrating womens’ sexuality and sexual liberation, just maybe not when their vocabulary still includes the words “goo goo” and “gaa gaa.” The second half when her brain matures was great!! I’m just side eyeing the baby sex part.
Trolls
This was not released in cinemas this summer. In fact, it was released in 2016. I just felt it needed to be included in this list. Me and my Dad watched it the day after we saw Poor Things, in an attempt to heal from the trauma. It did not work. In fact it nearly made me delete Letterboxd and swear off movies altogether. I rate this movie negative 5. Do not interact.
Next Goal Wins
So cute! Truly a Taika Watiti film. While it didn’t hit like Boy or Hunt for the Wilderpeople, it more successfully healed the Poor Things trauma than Trolls did (this wasn’t hard).
Dream Scenario
I didn’t expect watching Nicolas Cage cum untouched as a girl takes his belt off during an ill-advised failed affair then farting loudly and running away to be as funny as it was. Say that sentence twice, my GOD. I enjoyed this film. The tram ride home (again with my parents, yikes) was silent but in a vaguely good way?
Bottoms
I wanted to love this movie but just… didn’t. I think it was a me problem? This film was like a cake which had all the right ingredients and followed the correct method but then the oven was a bitch and didn’t like it. I’m the oven.
Anyone But You
Such a cute romcom, truly one of the better of its genre to come out in a while. And may I say, a Shakespeare retelling to rival 10 Things I Hate About You. The lines that came directly from the play made me happy, but it was also equally as enjoyable for people who were unfamiliar with the play. Really fun. I loved that it was set in Australia. Added a certain ‘je ne sais quoi’.
Napoleon
JOKES I did not watch this movie. A 3 hour long, historically inaccurate Ridley Scott film? Not even adding another notch to my Letterboxd bed post could entice me.
Wonka
As soon as the film finished the girl behind me said, “thank GOD that’s over”. I did not agree with her. I thought it had the perfect amount of whimsy and fun. My mother, who is the biggest Timothee Chalamet fan in the world, gives it 5 stars.
Mean Girls
This was… boring and unnecessary. Auliʻi Cravalho as Janice was a standout performance though.
The Holdovers
For all sad nerds, this movie is like Dead Poets Society but if all the characters were cantankerous assholes (affectionate). I was hungry when I arrived at the cinema so I spent a lot of the movie thinking about the sausages they showed in the establishing shot of the kitchen. On the way home (via Coles to buy sausages) I figured out what I thought of the film: it had a beautiful soul. You could tell a lot of heart went into making it, the use of film rather than digital, the editing, the soundtrack, the performances. I forgot I was watching a film made in this millennium and not an actual film from 1970. Super lovely.
Priscilla
Like Mean Girls, this movie was boring and unnecessary. It tried to say something new about Priscilla and Elvis’ combined legacy but failed. It meandered.
All of Us Strangers
This movie made me grin from ear to ear and also clutch my chest like I was dying of heartbreak. It was filmed so beautifully. It looked warm, and felt like a hug goodbye. Every performance was intentional and masterful and the result was truly breathtaking. But for my own mental health, I will never ever rewatch it.
May December
I had a really embarrassing asthma attack in the middle of this movie (ironic since the main character suffers from chronic asthma herself) and had to leave. I never saw the ending and can’t bring myself to stream it and find out. It was well acted but didn’t compel me.
Anatomy of a Fall
Holy shit. When I wasn’t distracted by how beautiful Vincent, played by Swann Aulaud, was (seriously, he is stunning, and what nice hair), I was jaw-open marvelling at what a great film this was. The pacing especially was perfect. It managed to be interesting and compelling as well as thoughtful and picturesque. Highly recommend it.
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Honourable mentions go to two of the ads I had to see at every single one of these screenings:
The confusing Budget Direct ad which featured an evil sentient pool cleaner (?). Stay weird Budget Direct.
The Toyota Hilux ad about a divorced couple refinding their love for one another through sharing joint custody of their car. This ad made me tear up.
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Is there a single thematic takeaway from this experience? Any additional wisdom I have gained by conquering these 15 films? Not really. But it was a fun way to while away the summer.
The Stella Prize longlist was announced March 4, which means twelve new books to add to your “To Be Read” list (actual reading optional, unlikely, and encouraged).
The Stella Prize is the foremost Australian literary award specifically for women and non-binary authors. Founded in 2012, Stella works to place the writing of women and non-binary authors at the forefront of conversation, promoting gender equity within the Australian literary scene and contributing to a ‘vibrant national culture’.
The $60,000 prize is awarded annually to one book deemed ‘original, excellent, and engaging,’ and among the winners (and those long- and short-listed) are some of Australia’s most recognisable literary names. Think Hannah Kent, Michelle De Kretser, Alexis Wright, Melissa Lucashenko, Ellen Van Neerven (ANU’s own 2023 HC Coombs Fellow), Georgia Blain. Last year, the Stella was awarded to Sarah Holland-Batt for The Jaguar, and in 2022 was taken by Evelyn Araluen for Dropbear (which I can vouch for as a brilliant collection, even as someone who mostly associates contemporary poetry with Instagram poetry and therefore actively avoids it, preferring arrogantly to remain ignorant).
The 2024 lineup is a noteworthy one. In a deviation from the past two years, only one poetry collection has been longlisted, and almost all of the titles come from smaller independent publishing houses. In fact, only two — Maggie Mackellar’s Graft (Penguin) and Stephanie Bishop’s The Anniversary (Hachette) — have made it onto the longlist from ‘Big Five’ publishers. The Big Five consists of HarperCollins, Simon & Schuster, Macmillan, Hachette, and Penguin, which tend to collectively dominate the publishing industry. It’s a big year, then, for indie presses and prose writing.
This year proffers some very well-established names — many of whom have previously been listed for (or, in the case of Alexis Wright, won) the Stella — as well as some who are newer to the game. The shortlist will be announced on the 4th of April, and the winner on the 2nd of May.
Praiseworthy by Alexis Wright
Undoubtedly one of the greatest living Australian writers, Alexis Wright’s latest epic novel Praiseworthy seems to be just that — the New York Times calls it ‘the most ambitious and accomplished Australian novel of this century.’ Each of her three other novels — Plains of Promise (1997), Carpentaria (2006) and The Swan Book (2013) — have been similarly received. Carpentaria won the 2007 Miles Franklin, and her ‘unconventional’ (Sydney Morning Herald) memoir Tracker (2017) won the 2018 Stella Prize, which makes Wright the only author to hold both the Miles Franklin and the Stella.
Wright, a Waanyi woman, blends the real, the surreal, and the magical and draws on the rhythms of oral storytelling to create sprawling, sharply intelligent works of profound commentary on ‘contemporary Aboriginal life’ (Giramondo Publishing) and the ongoing nature of colonialism.
Praiseworthy has already taken the 2023 Queensland Literary Award for Fiction, and looks set to be a fierce competitor for the 2024 Stella.
She is the Earth by Ali Cobby Eckermann
Notably the only poetry collection longlisted this year, Ali Cobby Eckermann’s She is the Earth ‘is unlike any other book in Australian literature’ (The Conversation). In 2017, Eckermann won the international Windham-Campbell prize, becoming the second Australian ever to do so.
She is the Earth is a novel-in-verse (however notably lacking a distinct plot and characters) inspired by landscape, natural elements, and ‘the healing power of Country.’ (Magabala Books) It narrates the process of healing and its inherent relationship with the permanence of trauma.
If you’d like to read more about this one, I really enjoyed this article from The Conversation.
Feast by Emily O’Grady
Emily O’Grady’s sophomore novel Feast is already raking in international recognition with a nomination for not only the Stella, but also the Dublin Literary Award. Feast looks at darkness, isolation, secrets and their exposures, familial relationships which are equal parts love and cruelty, and ‘the unmet needs of women’ (The Guardian).
In the Scottish mansion of a retired actress, Alison, and rock star, Patrick, we observe the complicated consequences of the appearance of a nearly-eighteen-year-old daughter and her mother, an ex-partner of Patrick’s.
Feast centres on the women of the family, ‘connected by something far darker and thicker than blood’ (Readings), ‘and what happens when their darkest secrets are hauled into the light’ (Allen & Unwin).
Abandon Every Hope: Essays for the Dead by Hayley Singer
‘Can anyone smell the suffering of souls? Of sadness, of hell on earth? Hell, I imagine, has a smell that bloats into infinity. Has a nasty sting of corpses. What was it Dante wrote?’ (Upswell Publishing)
Hayley Singer teaches creative writing at UniMelb, so perhaps it isn’t surprising that Singer’s debut essay collection is stylistically experimental and steeped in figurative language. Abandon Every Hope ‘map[s] the contours of a world cut to pieces by organised and profitable death’ (Upswell Publishing) — specifically, Singer centres on animal cruelty and the inhumanity of the slaughterhouse industry.
The Hummingbird Effect by Kate Mildenhall
Simultaneously historical, contemporary, and futuristic, The Hummingbird Effect follows four women dispersed through time, connected by ‘the mysterious Hummingbird Project, and the great question of whether the march of progress can ever be reversed’. One working in a meat factory during the Great Depression, another living in a retirement home during COVID, a third some sixty years in the future, and a fourth further still, ‘diving for remnants of a past that must be destroyed’ (Simon & Schuster).
The Hummingbird Effect grapples with climate change, artificial intelligence, and ‘the enduring power of female friendship.’ (The Guardian)
Body Friend by Katherine Brabon
Katherine Brabon’s previous two novels The Memory Artist (2016) and The Shut Ins (2021) have, between them, accumulated a pretty sizeable list of awards and nominations. These past wins include the 2016 The Australian/Vogel’s Literary Award, the 2022 People’s Choice Award at the New South Wales Premier’s Literary Awards, and the 2019 David Harold Tribe Fiction Award.
It’s a shock to no one, then, that Body Friend is up for the Stella. This one looks at chronic pain, female relationships, and the distance between body and self.
‘Body Friend shows that pain can be a friend and a friend can be a mirror, but what they reflect is more than just a mirror image, and contains many possibilities.’ (Sydney Morning Herald)
The Swift Dark Tide by Katia Ariel
‘What happens when, in the middle of a happy heterosexual marriage, a woman falls in love with another woman?’ (Gazebo Books)
One of two memoirs longlisted, Katia Ariel’s The Swift Dark Tide is ‘a diary that doubled as a breathing exercise and tripled as a love letter.’ (Ariel) The Swift Dark Tide chronicles the author’s journey of self-discovery, interlaced with the stories of her husband, mother, and grandparents to create a ‘matrix’ (Ball, Compulsive Reader) of desire, heritage, selfhood, and family.
West Girls by Laura Elizabeth Woollett
West Girls is interested primarily in beauty and race, in a way that feels like a more unhinged, more rooted in physicality, more innately feminine reconstruction of The Secret History’s ‘morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs.’ The female body becomes something at once displaced from and deeply connected to the self. The body is the identity but also belongs to everyone outside of it.
West Girls is interested in the modelling industry, racial inequality, cultural appropriation, the sexualisation of girls’ bodies, and the normalisation of sexual assault.
Our half-white, half-Maltese protagonist Luna Lewis, obsessed with beauty and a modelling career, presents herself as a ‘17-year-old Eurasian beauty, discovered while dismembering an octopus at a southern-suburbs fish-market’ in order to launch her career. This review from The Guardian talks about the act of yellowface in West Girls and looks at the thematic parallels with R.F. Kuang’s novel Yellowface, which was one of the most internationally popular releases of 2023.
Graft: Motherhood, Family and a Year on the Land by Maggie MacKellar
‘To attempt to sum up this book is to do a disservice to the delicate and finely woven lattice of narrative threads that comprise it, like reducing a glimmering spider web to its geometry.’ (Sydney Morning Herald)
A kind of hybridised memoir/nature writing number, Graft is a lyrical, ‘gorgeously written’ (Penguin) account of life spanning one year on a Tasmanian sheep farm. We see birth and death on the farm, interwoven with reflections on childhood and motherhood. Graft is a meditation on mothers, the land and what inhabits it, and home.
Edenglassie by Melissa Lucashenko
Melissa Lucashenko, winner of the 2019 Miles Franklin for her last novel Too Much Lip, is producing a not-insubstantial catalogue of fiction and non-fiction. The bookshop I work at generally has a significant chunk of shelf space occupied by her books (even better, they’re all being released in new, visually cohesive editions, which always makes my heart happy). Lucashenko writes predominantly literary and YA fiction, which are very sought-after in the shop.
Edenglassie ‘slices open Australia’s past and present’ (The Guardian), elucidating the dark, ongoing realities of colonisation by vacillating between and drawing together two narratives set in colonial and contemporary Meanjin country, Brisbane.
Hospital by Sanya Rushdi
Hospital is about psychosis, mental illness in general, and the medical system. A research student is diagnosed with psychosis, and spends the book questioning her diagnosis and the medical system — ‘indeed questioning seems to be at the heart of her psychosis’ (Giramondo). Rushdi approaches time with skilful indifference, ‘braiding past and present’ (Westerly Magazine), and blends reality with ambiguity. The reader is left wondering where her episodes start and end in a state of constant disorientation.
At just 128 pages, Hospital is the shortest novel longlisted. First published in Bangladesh in 2019, it was translated into English and published in Australia for the first time last year.
The Anniversary by Stephanie Bishop
From the author of Man Out of Time (2018), The Singing (2005), and The Other Side of the World (2015) comes The Anniversary, a ‘compulsive, atmospheric’ (Hachette) psychological thriller which looks at gender, power, art, and the craft of writing.
When her filmmaker husband dies falling overboard on a cruise, novelist J.B. Blackwood navigates her past and her suddenly successful present, visiting and revisiting events and ideas with ‘increasing honesty and nuance.’ (New York Times)
To the New York Times, Bishop writes, ‘A lie told well should sound true. The Anniversary is about the lies we tell ourselves when the traumatic facts of our lives become unbearable and we need to twist them into a story we can stomach.’
This year’s lineup has pulled through with banger after absolute banger, and I’m hedging my bets by saying that it’s really, genuinely, anyone’s game. Every last one of these fits the criteria of ‘original, excellent, and engaging.’ If I had to make a guess, though, I can see Melissa Lucashenko’s Edenglassie coming out on top. It’s super relevant and thematically significant, and the way that it is selling and being received makes me think that it especially brings home the ‘engaging’ requirement. But I’ll leave it up to the infinitely more qualified panel of judges to do the judging, and follow along with bated breath.
Editor’s Note: Edenglassie didn’t even make it to the shortlist. Sorry Caelan.
Comments Off on Review: How to Date Men When You Hate Men
Fair warning: if you’ve come here in search of some profound insight into the matters of the heart, I apologise. I’m just an 18-year-old girl with uncommendable dating experience, who is also severely prone to falling into a pit of crippling anxiety at the mere sight of a text from a guy (it takes me five hours and a solid brainstorming session with three other friends to respond to a simple “Hey” followed by a series of sleepless nights). So, for the sake of honesty, I’ll admit I don’t know shit.
Perhaps now you can also see how a ‘self-help’ book called How To Date Men When You Hate Men would entice someone like me. To be clear, neither I nor the author hate men, we just hate the troubles we’ve to endure to date them and the patriarchal bit of it all.
For a long time, it was a running joke in my friend group that this book held the key to fixing our love lives. Armed with foolproof strategies to sail through the treacherous waters of dating a guy, we’d be unstoppable! So here I was, embarking on this transcendental journey, flipping through the pages of the book like a madwoman and hoping to finally learn the art of dating men just in time for Valentine’s Day. No more being lonely and miserable, I had declared!
By the first chapter, bitter disappointment had settled in. I had fallen prey to clickbait. The book was (unfortunately) neither misandrist propaganda nor, as the author herself admits, a proper “how to” book.
It hypes you up in the beginning, and you, naïve little you, are convinced that you’re about to read something so earth-shatteringly revolutionary that you will single-handedly end patriarchy and the systemic sexism prevalent in our society. But you’ll soon realise this is just a patronising version of your girls’ group chat.
‘It’s not that there are “good men” versus “bad men” (though there are some obvious monsters): all men have received this coding. They aren’t born evil, they’re born into an evil system! It just didn’t sound as catchy to name the book How to Date Men When They Are Born into and Brainwashed by an Evil System That Mightily Oppresses Women.’
The author, Blythe Roberson, is an American comedian and humour writer, who has previously written for publications like The New Yorker and The Onion. As expected, you can sense the immaculate sarcasm and wit right off the bat. Unexpectedly, though, it quickly falls flat.
Throughout the book, Roberson makes various attempts to put modern dating problems in a comedic and engaging light. Sadly she misses the mark almost every single time. Roberson fills the book with quirky little displays of her hilarity, but because the book is so inconclusive everything she writes becomes almost irrelevant due to the lack of direction. The snarky comments that probably would’ve gotten her a good laugh in a different format soon turn annoying (looking at the 125, 689, 871 Trump jokes).
This humour severely lacks purpose. Roberson describes the book as ‘made up of so many opinions all clumped together that they just might have congealed into some sort of worldview’, taking a step further to boldly call it a ‘comedy philosophy book’. I like to call it the ‘Roberson’s Attempt at Turning Her Journal Therapy Journey Commercial’ book. It truly does seem like she was advised by her therapist to try to pen down her feelings, and she thought, well, why not turn this into a book and make some money out of it?
Her personal reflections and all the bottled-up frustration she harbours towards dating finally find the light of day in these pages. She talks so extensively about patriarchy and its impact on modern dating that you wonder if you really are about to read a social philosophy book, but she doesn’t explore this problem with any depth or nuance and you’re just left pondering. The book ends up being a collection of Roberson’s dating expeditions. So, while I yearn to learn more about the nitty gritties of Roberson’s ‘intersectional-socialist-matriarchal revolution’, I find myself learning the superficialities of Roberson’s date with some film student named Luke instead.
While the first half of the book might irk you, to give Roberson due credit, the second half does get better.
‘And so: you, right now, are a full tree. You don’t need to be in love to count as a human. Look—you already ARE a human, existing!’
Even though it’s cliché big sister advice and I know at this point we’re all tired of listening to the ‘you can only be loved if you love yourself first’ crap, it is undeniably true, and Roberson’s take on it is, dare I say, quite refreshing! She preaches against overthinking by emphasising that ultimately people will always do what their heart desires and so, if they are talking to you, it is because they want to! Probably nothing you haven’t heard before, but it’s the unwavering conviction with which Roberson almost commands the reader to stop over-analysing every little thing that almost has me convinced every guy is in love with me.
Okay, I don’t actually hate How To Date Men When You Hate Men. I know by now I might’ve convinced you otherwise, but genuinely, my only qualm with this book is that it shouldn’t have been a book. The way Roberson describes her dating mishaps and all the valuable lessons she’s gleaned from dating guys all these years make for solid entertainment. Not for a book. But, perhaps, as the set for her Netflix special. Oh, what wasted potential the book has. It’s relatable and charming, with seamlessly woven humour, while also targeting the idiosyncrasies of modern society. It could have been a 10/10 comedy show.
For me, the true measure of a book lies in the emotion it evokes. Often, over time, plots and character arcs get buried and decay with memory, but the emotions etched in the heart stand the test of time. The brain forgets, but the heart remembers. And while this book did have moments of Roberson’s glittering wit, it failed to leave an imprint. All I’d remember five years later would be the riveting title.
So, final remarks. Firstly, nobody really knows what love is. Some days it’s peeling an orange, while other days even taking a bullet might not be enough. All we know is that love is cataclysmic in the most beautiful ways and sadly, no book will ever have the answer to all your questions. You just have to wing it, as frightening as that might be.
Secondly, don’t read this book. You probably won’t read it til the end (unless you’ve thought it’d be cool to review it for Valentine’s). I recommend spending that time hating some other aspect of your life.
Lastly, if you do plan on spending Valentine’s alone, all sad and pathetic (like me), remember that it’s just a day. A Wednesday too, literally nothing special. The human experience will have us all being melancholic the rest of the year, even those cringy people in love (I’m just jealous). Go get yourself an ice cream and be a hater for a day.