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August 21st 2007 08:16

We've been to NIDA

I get a lot of stick for slagging off the Australian Film Industry.
This little old lady was yelling at me from a bus the other day;

“You’re just bitter, Leon.”
But that’s cool with me. When a ship’s sinking everyone’s throwing shit overboard they think will float. Personally, I’d be emptying beer cans and strapping them to myself. When I say emptying, I mean drinking. And I’d be standing next to the nerdy small guy standing at the little end of the binoculars, he’s the one in the know.
“Tell me which way to swim, Mr Nerdy.”

Anyway, if taking on water was the only thing wrong with performance art we’d be lucky.
The thing is; while Australian Movie World languishes in this hopeless welfare-funded caravan to nowhere, the theatre/stage aspect of pay-for-seats art is soooo worse off.
Much worse.
I’ve seen three Australian plays in recent memory - two of the three have been woeful. It’s not just me – after one I’m canvassing the bar as a way of salvaging the two hours I’ve just lost clutching a life buoy – this guy walks past me and says;
“That was hard work.”
It was. And it wasn’t some school production it was at the Sydney Opera House – the Sydney Theatre Company, the…tragedy of it all.

I remember going to the Bolshoi in Moscow to see La Traviata. At the 15 minute intermission the queue for the bar is forty minutes long. The lead actress dies at the end as a result of “the wasting disease” (i.e., you waste away to nothing and die) so, the deathscene is she gets out of bed and falls to the floor – dead. Only problem, she’s about 150 kilos, a layer of dust lifted as she hit the deck. I wasn’t convinced – but that was post-Soviet Russia.

This is first-world Australia.

You rush up to the pointy end of the ship where the Captain is – you look out at the iceberg – you look back to the Captain and he says;
“Don’t worry, I’ve been to NIDA.”

Why is it so?

Until next time and happy film-making.

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Suffer the Suff

August 17th 2007 06:52

Who is this suff

Ange from the radio show asked me to do a bit on the Sydney Underground Film Festival for the next show.
Yeah, we had the Killbillies play at Duff (Dublin) and Muff (Melbourne) so I got the promo booklet.
I took one look.
WAIT A MINUTE.
It’s a slick lookin’ thing, slick like in latte sippin’ Saab drivin’ and SBS. And on page 3 there’s a photo of the festival directors.

So… I hear you think. SO… it seems to me that people in la-di-dah movieworld think that organising a festival is more about them and less about film. A fast-track to getting a job. Not just any job - an SBS job. Or an Australia Council job. Or an AFC job…I’m making myself sick.

Here’s the scene – a young film-maker starts off thinking they can actually make a difference in this Lane Cove boring world. Then after one attempt they give up and start dressing like Lee Lin Chin. With the hair-do. And while they’re reading out or about some third world tragedy the irony escapes them totally – the irony being that the cost of their hair-do alone could feed an African family for two years.
Anyway.
My belief is that any festival that doesn’t have a commercial aspect is not worth much. I mean, like in Cannes, there needs to be an element of market forces at work. People selling and showing films they reckon they can sell. People pushing their product. Instead of just films that a Salon load of cry-babies think are underground.
And let’s not forget - the concept of underground was hi-jacked years ago.
Guerilla is now.

But Guerilla is scary.

Until next time and happy film-making.

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Review of Notes on a Scandal

August 13th 2007 07:32

Fear factor Dench

This here is the problem with renting a film by the cover and trying to anticipate that said film will suit the purpose you intend. Like a quiet night at home with female company. Kate Blanchett – that’s the bit you’d think would appeal – to let’s say, female company. Maybe someone you wanted to impress. Or impress upon. Or borrow money from. Whatever.
This is not the movie.
Over-intense. Depressing. Nightmare.
I would think that if you individually Googled those words a link to this film would pop up.
Don’t get me wrong – it’s not a bad film, it’s just that in this day and age if I want to feel depressed I would only need to take my car to the mechanics for a check-up. Or go see my dentist. Or ring my Uncle Max and ask him how he was. I wouldn’t need to spend $6.00 at my local video store.
But I’m not bitter.
Not like Ms Dame Dench who is 100% proof bitter in this little journey - which is like one of those episodes of Air Crash Investigations where they tell you;

The passengers were unaware that their flight was doomed from the start…

The audience in this case being the travellers.

From now on I will only venture from the $1 per week section of my video store after a qualified referral.

Until next time and happy film-making.

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