Tag: Elections

• Autumn with Mozart: A Showcase of Choral Talent at the ANU

  July 18, 2025 5:04 pm Comments Off on Autumn with Mozart: A Showcase of Choral Talent at the ANU

  Happy listeners filled the pews of All Saints Anglican Church in Ainslie, hugged warm by the music of two choirs while leaves fell gently from the trees outside. On Saturday 24 May 2025, the ANU Choral Society (SCUNA), conducted by Veronica Thwaites-Brown, and the ANU Chamber Choir, conducted by Tobias Cole, presented a selection of works in the vaulted nave. The location enhanced the timelessness of the repertoire, which ranged from medieval to contemporary classical music. 
  Ave Verum Corpus KV618
  The performance began with the SCUNA and Chamber choirs performing Mozart’s “Ave Verum Corpus KV618”, conducted by Tobias Cole. We were delighted to see a range of variations on the classic black choral songbooks held by the singers, including one performer with an iPad that, to the untrained eye, blended in unnoticeably with the others. The singers stood united with autumnally coloured scarves over their traditional concert blacks. The combined strength of both choirs produced a resonant and harmonious yet gentle performance, emphasised by the acoustics of the church. The tenor singers were a particular stand-out in this piece, and the alto harmonies blended well with the choir. 
  SCUNA 
  After the Mozart introduction, the ANU Chamber Choir left the stage, the SCUNA choir remaining for their repertoire. The choir’s conductor, Veronica Thwaites-Brown, began by speaking of a time of renewal in the society, with new members, collaborations and songbook pieces. The pieces selected for their performance that night were lifted from SCUNA songbooks of the past. There have been many songbooks over the years and every conductor contributes something. 
  They began with “Never Weather-Beaten Sail” by Thomas Campion (a well-known poet, composer and physician from the 16th- to 17th-century), which uses nautical imagery as an allegory for the journey to the afterlife. The choir’s artistic choices complemented and reinforced the original seafaring lyricism. The dynamics felt like waves, evoking the sensation of drifting through the ocean and eventually arriving at the shore. Elongated phrases supported the lyrical imagery and coordinated well with the other musical elements. The sopranos in particular were a highlight, carrying the choir through the piece like the song itself describes the water carrying a passenger to the safe harbour of the afterlife. 
  SCUNA contrasted Campion’s piece with the lively “Dindirin”, described in the program as “a charming song, composed around 1500…adapted from a 15th-century Spanish/Catalan text.” It follows a married singer and a nightingale passing her a message from a lover. This item was upbeat and refreshing, with the choir balancing percussive diction with its signature reverberance. The lively rhythm gave character to the nightingale described in the lyrics, lending it a distinct voice in the piece. It was easy to imagine the dialogue between the nightingale and the other figures in the story.
  “Dindirin” flowed seamlessly into SCUNA’s next piece, “So Ben Ch’ha Bon Tempo” by Orazio Vecchi, a canzonet (or madrigal written as words to a dance) which translates to “I know well who is having a good time”. The piece was a similarly spirited choice by Thwaites-Brown. Its cadence mirrored the dance it’s intended for: vibrant and playful. Impressively, they performed a cappella, with a chorale quality that enhanced the melody and counter-melody. Each section was highlighted at different points in the piece, but the altos stole the show, asserting their independence with difficult runs while maintaining a balanced blend and skilled intonation.
  SCUNA concluded their repertoire with “Four Seasons in One Day” by New Zealand composers Neil and Tim Finn. Contrasting their largely Renaissance-era performance, this final choice was a classic modern choral piece, with diverse syncopation and dynamics, and utilising a wide vocal range from all the voices in the choir. SCUNA’s unity as an ensemble featured in this final piece, sounding like one mass rather than a group of individual singers. 
  ANU Chamber Choir 
  Under the baton of Tobias Cole, the ANU Chamber Choir performed a beautiful compilation of sacred music from the 16th and 19th centuries. Chamber choirs are fully a cappella. For the ANU Chamber Choir, composed of students from the School of Music, vocals alone were most certainly enough, with a collective voice both powerful and resonant despite being a smaller group. 
  They began with “O Quam Gloriosum” by Tomás Luis de Victoria, a piece published in 1583 and dedicated to celebrating the saints. The tone of the choir was beautiful and unfalteringly united, especially in the tenor section. This was followed by “Ave Virgo Sanctissima” by Francisco Guerrero, a piece dedicated to Mary, Mother of Christ. The beginning was ever so slightly shaky, but they quickly regained confidence and were once again in smooth conversation with one another to create a sense of lament and sorrow passing between vocal sections. Reminiscent of a Gregorian chant, it was simple yet timeless and beautifully executed. 
  A slightly more modern piece of music compared to the other composers in this part of the program, Anton Bruckner’s “Virga Jesse” nonetheless fit perfectly with the religious themes in the rest of the music. The haunting, sacred and ephemeral ambience of the piece was thoroughly suited to the venue. The beautiful application of dissonance and resolution gave the feeling of shivering in awe before something all-powerful before shifting towards a sense of peace and joy at the end of the piece. It was everything you look for in a chamber choir selection: dynamic, mournful and dramatic, making for the opus of the set — the “Bravi!” from an enthusiastic audience member was appropriate, and we concur wholeheartedly. 
  The two choirs combined — Vesperae Solennes de Confessore KV339
  The two choirs united once again at the end to perform Mozart’s “Vesperae Solennes de Confessore”, a piece that sat neatly alongside the theme of the divine, yet with the distinct flavour of Mozart. Thwaites-Brown, who conducted the choirs, spoke of her interpretation of the piece as showcasing Mozart’s excitement and insatiable hunger for freedom, having finally made it to Vienna and far away from the Prince Archbishop of Salzburg, with whom he’d had an antagonistic relationship. While vespers, or evening prayers, are usually quite reverent and peaceful, Mozart, of course, decided to put his own spin on it, resulting in a scene of drama, making masterful use of canon, call-and-response and dynamics. The piece was sung in Latin, with each part being a psalm. 
  The drama Thwaites-Brown mentioned was certainly evident. The vesperae opened on a triumphant note, jumping between pitches, dynamics and emotions with great force, leading to that sensation of emotional whiplash which makes music so thrilling. This was followed by a vesper in which the solo soprano parts were incredibly sweet and well unified between choristers. The unity and contrast provided by the choir and ‘orchestra’ throughout truly brought the music together. Our compliments to Anthony Smith on the piano, who took on the job of the entire orchestra for the afternoon, and did so marvellously. The combination of the two choirs was very powerful, particularly in the third vesper, in which SCUNA rejoined towards the end in a wall of sound that bounced off of the pews, windows, stone archways and pillars. The fourth vesper was more solemn but with dynamics and a canonical structure that ensured the piece was a paragon of dramatic contrast. The diction was especially remarkable and much training and practice must have gone into making this piece what it was. 
  This blended well into the fifth vesper, highlighting the night’s soloist, soprano Ella Craig. Craig sang masterfully with a crystal-like voice imbued with sweetness. She showcased her immense skills as a lyric soprano, singing with a clear and light tone, and cleverly adopting a delicate vibrato at the end of phrases. The runs in this vesper weren’t completely perfect, but that is to be expected with a composer as malicious as Mozart. Any listener would appreciate her effort to master this solo, balancing a light timbre with firm projection across the church. The tutti section’s backing towards the end of the piece supported her voice, with a beautiful blend and dynamic control by the larger choir. 
  After the performance, Craig, who studies Classical Music at the ANU School of Music, told Woroni, “[Mozart is] not a style I’m used to singing,” adding later that the composer’s penchant for high Gs was particularly difficult. 
  The finale was bouncy and playful while still challenging — quintessential Mozart — and was an excellent culmination of the rest of the set. They finished with an encore by the name of “Gaudeamus Igitur”, a drinking song and a jubilant celebration of the two choirs’ works, free from the pressure and technique required in the Mozart. On the challenges of conducting, Thwaites-Brown noted SCUNA is composed of members with differing musical backgrounds, so in order to bring the choir together it is important to cater to all choristers by adapting rehearsals and making sure that the complexity of the rhythms and the Latin is addressed. She also emphasised that in music, the challenge is what makes it rewarding — what feels better than watching months of hard work come together into a wonderful concert such as this one? The choirs also sang a surprise “Happy Birthday” for Thwaites-Brown’s mother Rosemary, and there was a burst of spontaneous song at supper afterwards. Musicians are truly brimming with creativity and passion for what they love. It was a terrific concert and we offer our congratulations to all of the musicians and people behind the scenes involved. We would recommend any ANU student or member of the community to explore these choirs in the future. 

  Chiara Hackney-Britt

• Adolescence: Review

  June 18, 2025 10:01 am Comments Off on Adolescence: Review

  Do you remember being an adolescent? Did you wake up on your 13th birthday and feel like everything had suddenly shifted? Acne. Periods. Voice cracks. Mind racing, body changing, 13 was big. It was the year you were made painfully aware of how different girls and boys were. Suddenly, you were told to act differently around the guy you’d been sharing lunch with since kindergarten. 13 was messy: so much happening inside your head and under your skin, and absolutely no manual on how to handle any of it.
  I remember the weirdness. I remember boys being loud, rude, sometimes mean, teasing girls for fun. I remember starting to feel self-conscious. But I do not remember animosity. I’ve always thought it was just awkwardness that comes along with growing up, coming to terms with ourselves and others, nothing more.
  Unfortunately, 13 isn’t what it used to be anymore.
  And this is what Netflix’s 4-part series is all about.
  Adolescence is no murder mystery. From the very first few minutes, we know that this 13-year-old boy has killed a girl not much older than him. What’s the show about, then? you might wonder. What prompts this review? you might think. It’s about the why.
  Why do men hate women?
  Why do YOUNG BOYS hate girls?
  How is this hate developed?
  I wish we didn’t have to ask these questions. I wish we didn’t have to sit with the weight of it. I wish, on watching this show, this review and our thoughts could end at the brilliance of the craft: the staggering performances, the haunting cinematography, and the technical feat of shooting each episode in a single take. I wish we could just fixate on how Owen Cooper (Jamie) delivers a performance so raw it makes your stomach turn; his first-ever role, and somehow already one of the most chilling portrayals of a child on screen. I wish we could talk only about the eerie stillness of certain scenes, the razor-sharp pacing, the sound design that pulls you into bedrooms, classrooms, and silences you didn’t expect to sit in.
  But alas, that would be a bit of a cop-out, wouldn’t it? Because this show doesn’t let you look away. It doesn’t let you retreat into aesthetics. It drags you, gently at first, then all at once, into the dark corners of the internet where kids get lost. Where a search for confidence turns into content on “alpha energy”, and before you know it, your sweet, awkward 13-year-old cousin is quoting Andrew Tate like it’s holy scripture. It sounds dramatic. But Adolescence shows you how undramatic it really is. How terrifyingly casual it is. How it’s just one video, one thread, one “harmless” joke.
  Across four episodes, we watch Jamie spiral, not because he’s evil or broken, but because he’s bruised and online. And that’s what makes it hit. He’s not an outlier. He’s familiar. He’s the kid next door. He’s someone you knew. He’s someone you thought you knew. And that’s what’s haunting about the show. It doesn’t give you villains. It gives you people. Real, painfully real people. And it forces you to ask the questions you’ve been dodging: How did we let this happen? Why were we so busy laughing at the red-pillers that we didn’t notice how many kids were actually listening? Why are we still so scared of talking to boys—really talking to them—before the internet does?
  “I read an incident in the paper and it was about a young boy killing a young girl, stabbing a young girl to death and then not long after that I saw on the news on the television that you know it happened again in a different, completely different part of the country and a young boy had stabbed a young girl and if I’m really honest with you, both of those incidents really hurt my heart in a way and it just made me think what’s going on…”
  Creator, Executive Producer and Actor Stephen Graham speaking to Yahoo UK
  The first episode starts with a brigade of police officers swarming what seems like this perfectly normal, loving family’s home. The horror is that they’re here for the boy. They think 13-year-old Jamie has killed Katie, a girl he went to school with. You don’t know the why, when, or how; all you see is this scared kid sitting alone in his room, looking completely lost. He’s peed his pants. He’s shaking. And you think, no way. It’s difficult to reconcile this image with the crime he’s accused of. Surely there’s been some mistake. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe someone’s lying. One minute, this family’s going through their usual weekday routine, breakfast and backpacks. Next, their home is being torn apart, and they watch helplessly as their little boy is being called a murderer and dragged to the police station.
  By the end of the first episode, all doubts shiver and crack. There’s no speculation, no ambiguity: Jamie killed Katie. Then you see his father laying flowers where she died, while Through the Eyes of a Child, sung by the girl who plays Katie, plays in the background. And suddenly, it’s all real. A girl is dead. A boy killed her. And nothing will ever be the same.
  It’s the third episode—short clips from it, I’m sure, have flooded your feed—where Jamie meets with a psychologist. We’re tossed in a brutal wave of horror and disgust. Now, with each layer being stripped away, you’re left to face the bare truth. A 13-year-old boy, bullied and isolated, pulled into the ugly corners of the internet, kills a girl simply because she didn’t like him back. And the hardest part? He probably doesn’t even fully understand what he’s done. Or maybe this is what you want to believe. That he doesn’t understand. Because that would make it all just a little less sickening.
  And that’s the most concerning part: you want to blame everyone but him; society, parents, school, anyone but Jamie. You don’t hate him. You’re terrified of him. Terrified of how social media twists kids today. You’re disgusted when he tries to justify it, claiming other boys would’ve done worse. But hate? No. I hated that I couldn’t hate him. A boy who thinks so little of women that he kills a girl, and still, I can’t hate him. All I could feel was pure shock.
  And you hear these stories every single day: women stalked, assaulted, raped and murdered. But you never expect that kind of rage from a teenage boy. Still lanky, still growing into his voice, still figuring out algebra, and yet filled with that much hate. You never expect the misogyny to run so deep, so young. But it does. In a world where the manosphere thrives on TikTok algorithms, where influencers spew bile dressed up as confidence and success, where boys are fed a steady diet of “alpha” nonsense, where podcasts teach that empathy is weakness and women are objects to win or punish—a digital underworld festers. Where masculinity is measured in control, cruelty, and silence; where boys are handed scripts that tell them being human is pathetic, and rejection is humiliation worth avenging. Maybe we should’ve expected it. Maybe we haven’t been paying enough attention.
  And this isn’t about villainising men, because of course not all men, but it’s too many and too often. It’s about confronting a culture that’s failing them and, in turn, failing us. It’s about the quiet radicalisation happening in bedrooms behind closed doors. And it’s horrifying, not only because a girl is found dead every now and then, but because we don’t know how to stop it.
  And you see the family wrestle with this, too. They know they went wrong; they just don’t know where or how. They did everything by the book: they were present, supportive, and loving. And yet, right under their roof, a boy learned how to kill. Jamie’s dad blames himself. Maybe if he hadn’t pushed him into football. Maybe if he’d shown him that gentleness is also strength. Maybe then Jamie wouldn’t have ended up here. Maybe then he’d have had a better blueprint for what it means to be a man. And that final scene, the parents collapsed in each other’s arms, grieving something they don’t have a name for, leaves you gutted. Because it asks the question no parent wants to face: how do you raise a child in a world like this? How do you keep them safe from what seeps in through the screen? From voices louder, meaner, and more convincing than yours?
  Adolescence is raw, it’s intimate, and it is unflinching. It forces you to confront the discomfort, the grief, the rage, the confusion; not just of what happened, but of how easy it was for it to happen. It isn’t easy to watch, and that’s the point. So, if there’s one thing you can watch, let it be this. If there’s one thing you can ask your parents, your brother, your boyfriend, your guy friends, any man you know, to watch, let it be this. Please.

  Anuva Rai

• 40 Hours of Film — A Celebration of Ingenuity and Cinema

  May 20, 2025 9:17 am Comments Off on 40 Hours of Film — A Celebration of Ingenuity and Cinema

  In the beginning, there was Méliès, and from Méliès, magic. That first conjuring of cinema has evolved into something astounding, a democratic art form available to anyone with a camera and a dream. The International Arts Competition, 40 Hours of Film, harnesses that spirit, asking a simple question:
  What happens when each year, you give college students three prompts: a prop (an umbrella), a phrase (“Thank God it’s Friday”), and a location (a bench), and then ask them to make something over 40 sleepless hours?
  In celebration of this year’s incredible films all being recently uploaded to YouTube – let’s see how this question was answered!
  Yukeembruk: 
  Yukeembruk’s film is a kaleidoscope of ideas all stemming from a satirical talent show: a black-and-white flashback universe, a brawl choreographed like a glorious Blazing Saddles homage, an RM dressed in something best left undescribed. There’s a Red Riding Hood spoof, a Julie-Bishop-is-a-lizard-person joke, and a final beat featuring a beautiful shot of a crispy Badger bev.
  But, somewhere between these wild shifts in tone, the film might be said to lose its compass. Perhaps best described as an anthology, the sound was at times frustratingly quiet, and unfortunately, the truth is that the gags didn’t all land. Still, one has to admire both the ambition and the occasional visual poetry. In film, as in life, a swing and a miss is always more memorable than never swinging at all, and Yukeembruk managed to hit the ball at least once or twice.
  Glam Bots and Sandwich Shots / 10
  Wright Hall: 
  With “The Benchwarmer”, Wright Hall delivers college comedy that not only winks at its own absurdity but embraces it like an old friend. The film opens with a lovely time-lapse of our titular benchwarmer, sidelined in every sense, until a Thursday night party spirals into surrealist sabotage.
  Shot with flair — GoPros, Ferris Bueller style fourth-wall breaks, and slick lighting — the film becomes a loving tribute to sports tropes, campus antics, and hypnotising your friends into thinking they actually do ‘have that dog in them’. While the film is undoubtedly quite funny, the ending brings unexpected emotional weight: maybe sitting out isn’t so bad after all?
  Maybe the Real Disc Was the Friends We Made Along the Way / 10
  UniLodge: 
  Ninety-nine per cent of the time, a bench is just a bench. But not in UniLodge’s slasher flick, where the bench is none other than a mutated possessed killer! Think Christine meets IKEA. The film delivers its carnage with campy glee — quick cuts, low-budget stuffed animal gore, and a line destined for cult status among those spoken by genre giants: “It doesn’t have knees, bitch.”
  While the Looney Tunes-style umbrella battle maybe overstays its welcome, the concept never outstays its charm. This is a film that knows its genre and plays it off just right.
  No Knees / 10
  Ursula: 
  Set in the cramped confines of Ursies, this mockumentary turns the college dining hall into a mafia battleground. The interviews are shot with surprising polish, and the humour — dark, absurd, delightfully self-aware — manages to land more often than not.
  A detective in the bath under an umbrella; an intellectual classicist named Shaque Spear; and an arrest for “breaking the risk assessment management plan.” This film is rambunctious and a feast for the eyes, The Office meets Knives Out.
  Not Bad From a Small Hole With Too Many Mouths to Feed / 10
  Burgmann: 
  Burgmann’s “Thank God It’s Friday” dazzles with production value. It opens on a heartbeat, bursts into a drumbeat, and lands us inside the best-looking student talk show you’ll ever see. The colour design on set is intentional and beautiful — burnt oranges and moody blues — and the story moves with confidence, transporting us as witnesses to a great weatherman and an even greater duck migration.
  There’s satire here: of morning shows, of celebrity drama, of the line between entertainment and truth. An umbrella drag performance set to Rihanna closes the film with such visual gusto that it leaves you grinning. While the plot could be viewed as a little messy at times, in light of the many, many other strengths of this production — the brilliant editing, powerful sound design, and stellar cast performances — it is no wonder that this film scored so highly among the judges. 
  Cumulonimbus Deserves His Own Show / 10
  Wamburun: 
  In “Hunt for the Canberra People”, Wamburun gives us a protagonist on a pilgrimage, wandering from academic panic to spiritual awakening through interactions with the city and its weirdest inhabitants. Think of a tinfoil-hat-wearing dropout, a pint-sized political candidate, and Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ himself, who turns water into wine in the backseat of a car.
  It’s funny, sweet, and surprisingly grounded for such a bizarre premise. The visuals sometimes suffer from inconsistent colour grading, but its heart never wavers, and it never fails to do the road trip genre justice. In the end, we’re reminded that sometimes the best way to survive uni is to leave, to get out of the bubble and breathe.
  The Youngest Australian Political Candidate Since Will Roche / 10
  Burton and Garran: 
  Leave it to BNG to get culturally savvy and turn the filmmaking process into both an elaborate joke and a genre exercise. Their entry is a meta-slasher-comedy-documentary hybrid, complete with stereotypes like the tortured editor and the diva actor, countdown tension, and my personal favourite, a very fun Scooby-Doo chase.
  There’s a wonderful scene involving a live band, TikTok bench podcasters, and an outrageous final standoff where characters yell film clichés like spells: “Dutch angle! Dolly zoom!” It’s like that episode of Community where the study group attempts to create a commercial for the college, if it were made with all the same passion, but only 40 hours and zero budget. A little rough around the edges, nonetheless, BNG’s film this year is a great watch.
  Scooby Doo Chase Scenes Are Never Boring / 10
  Griffin: 
  In “No Time to Dry”, Griffin Hall delivers a spy spoof that’s as self-aware as it is stylish. From its opening tableau — two agents on a bench under an absurdly endearing rain effect — the film establishes itself among that canon of spy spoofs you vaguely remember watching in your childhood but will die by to this very day. The McGuffin of the hour? A humble umbrella, spirited away before our hero even realises its importance. What follows is a feverish scramble involving biometric scanners and an unintentionally spicy confrontation featuring a tie-grab worthy of a soap opera.
  The comedy lands with an Uber rejection joke drawing some of the biggest laughs on the screening night, and the showdown amid Inward Bound runners — complete with a gorgeously low-budget blood spurt and a one-liner so outrageous it had me feeling like I was back in Avengers Endgame — is pure cinematic glee. Yes, the plot is maybe a little thin, but that hardly matters when it rains this much charisma.
  When The Sun Shines, It Shines Like This Film / 10
  Bruce: 
  Bruce Hall’s entry is a hypnotic, black-and-white dreamscape that marries meticulous cinematography with delicate emotional storytelling. From the first haunting piano notes and drone shots of campus choreographed like a metronome, it’s clear this is not your typical Interhall flick. The umbrellas here go beyond the prop requirement to be metaphors — for routine, for alienation, for the quiet rebellion of human connection. 
  The film’s lovers — divided by colour-coded umbrellas and rigid societal machinations, united by an unspoken gravitational pull — pass each other like shadows, until at last they meet in a poetic climax underscored by swelling classical music and divine choreography. Their final dance, set simultaneously by the bus stop and by Sully’s, is breathtaking. Some might call it pretentious — but it’s pretension earned. A display of brilliant craftsmanship, intention, and emotional weight — this was my favourite film of the bunch from this year.
  David Lynch Would Be Proud / 10
  Fenner: 
  Fenner’s film is all style, all swagger, all neon-drenched, motorbike-revving love story. From the opening Baby-Driver-esque one-take stroll through Fenner, to the most cinematic footage that must have ever been shot inside a Coles — yes, a Coles — this is cinema with a capital C.
  The narrative? Murphy is dating Friday. Friday gets kidnapped. Murphy responds by revving up his motorcycle. The shots are stunning, and though there were some issues with the music drowning out the dialogue, when you’re watching a man throw dog food at thugs in a garage showdown choreographed like Oldboy… you tend to forgive everything. The ending, as the couple watches the sunset in warm light, feels earned and restful. Is it fair to say their gear was unfairly better than everyone else’s? Yes. Did it deserve to be crowned the best film of the bunch? In my opinion, probably not. Is it still rad as hell? Absolutely. 
  Shot on iPhone 16 / 10
  Johns: 
  Disqualified? Maybe. Legendary? Definitely. Though Johns was disqualified for arriving forty minutes late, it becomes clear upon watching the film why. You simply cannot rush perfection. I feel as though I have nothing more to say on this film other than it joins the greats like Casablanca and Star Wars in the pantheon of films which changed cinema forever. The one thing I ask of you is that you go ahead and watch it for yourself.
  Martin Scorsese Reaction GIF / 10
  Conclusion
  In the end, this year’s 40 Hours of Film Competition was an absolute triumph of creativity, technical flair, and genre-bending imagination. From Griffin’s side-splitting spy spoof with its slick shots and killer one-liners, to Bruce’s hauntingly beautiful umbrella ballet through existentialism and romance, each film carved out a distinct voice and vision. These films didn’t just show off the incredible talent bubbling under the surface of the ANU’s colleges — they proved that even with limited budgets and a tight theme, student filmmakers can produce work that is clever, moving, hilarious, and more often than not, genuinely impressive. Whether you were there for the aesthetics, the action, or the absurdity, this year’s films gave us all something to laugh about, cry over, and quote for years to come.

  Emanuel Foundas

• My top five Studio Ghibli Films of all time (so far)

  April 16, 2025 4:48 pm 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!

  Chiara Hackney-Britt

• First Nations Literature Recommendations

  March 17, 2025 11:43 am 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. 

  Aala Cheema

• So you didn’t see ‘As You Like It’? What Ever Major Loser!

  January 4, 2025 11:29 am 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.

  Caitlin Davis

• Nothing makes sense: The beautiful eeriness of Pomona

  January 2, 2025 1:04 pm 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.

  Jessica Friderich

• Swarming with talent: Wright Hall bee-witches with the 25th Annual Putnam Spelling Bee

  12:56 pm 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.

  Jessica Friderich

• A reminder to feed your dad: “Third Storey” debuts to packed audiences

  August 20, 2024 5:50 pm 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.

  Jessica Friderich

• Is This the Film of the Summer!?

  May 13, 2024 1:42 pm Comments Off on Is This the Film of the Summer!?

  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
  __
  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. 
  __
  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. 
  __
  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.

  Hannah Bachelard