Reviews

This is bleak and uncompromising stuff. Made in a tradition reminiscent of the best Cold War books and productions on nuclear war, an activist, a physicist, a politician and a geologist explain in rational and dispassionate terms the background to the energy crisis we face and, most alarmingly, highlight how totally unprepared we are to adjust to a world where oil is a scant resource, one we will all face in just a few years time. There are no vox pops to add light entertainment, no colourful graphics, no sense of theatre, no narrator to soften the blows of the stark reality in the experts' words. The effect is highly disturbing and makes a movie no-one with a sense of responsibility to the next generation should miss.

One of my best-remembered shows as a kid. What set this show apart from its predecessors was in drawing respect from the audience for the firefighters it portrays; for the first time the paramedics, doctors and firefighters didn't arrive to wave a magic wand putting the fire out and saving the patient. The range of (at the time) operating medical and CB radio procedures and terminology, the open identification with real-time Los Angeles and the range of rescue situations faced by Station 51 and their paramedics showed how thorough Jack Webb's research and commitment to authenticity was, pushing the benefits of the paramedic program in the face of a skeptical California state government; as a concerned West Coast citizen with an eye on the Big One he probably knew this was an important step forward in public health that would save many, many lives when that day inevitably arrived. Rescue 911, ER, Law & Order, Third Watch, Cops; the entire medical and police reality television genre can trace their origins to Emergency! and once a compatible DVD box set for Australian players arrives I'll have it to reminisce with too.

With great expectations I bought my ticket for this last Friday, and while it wasn't rugby league's answer to The Club in the manner I'd been hoping for, the rewards in quality of characterisation and the film's theme of corporate power eroding the bonds of community and family and the examination of what it means to be a man more than make up for it. A quality debut performance from Matt Nable ably supported by Raelee Hill as the wife holding Grub's family together lead the way, with good support from Nathaniel Dean as the heir apparent to the old lion's crown. Matt Johns rises to a level well beyond the Footy Show's ouevre, the pillow fitted unnecessarily under his shirt with the aim of giving him the beer-stained look of coaches of yore notwithstanding. There's a few vague references to ethereal concepts of "the game" that don't quite sit true and the cry for the loss of league's golden era doesn't blend fully with the other elements of the story; John Jarratt's corporate figure intent on bringing the old footballer's era to an end is an almost comedic caricature, but the scenes bringing Nable's Grub and his brother Billy, whose star is in the ascendant with the Winfield Cup and associated riches just around the corner, together in conflict acquit Nable's writing well. I couldn't go further without mentioning Kate Mulvaney's gems of support as Kate, doling out advice over the bar as the mother some of these lonely boys never had. As with so many sports movies the theme is loss, introspection and redemption, but its qualities are best appreciated from a human point of view with sport as a background and conduit for the story. A high quality debut effort, with a soundtrack of summery Aussie nostalgia and cameos from a selection of familiar players and coaches of yesteryear when smoking on the reserves bench and beers after training were part of the fabric of Australian sporting life certain to bring a smile.

It's all been said already, but on the umpteenth time I've been back over this movie how brilliant Ally Sheedy is as the "basket case" hits home on me more and more. Judd Nelson gets all the best lines and in Bender fleshes out the embodiment of dysfunctional teen anger, but Sheedy is a slow burning flame who's just fascinating to watch. It's depressing to see modern teen films like American Pie and how little they have to offer their audience about the power of imagination and open-mindedness to change lives. It's not without flaws, but few films have taken the subject of teenage tribalism and disaffection and delivered a blueprint for what's possible when prejudice and immaturity are replaced with intelligence, understanding and dialog. Long may it reign.

A darkly comic tale of desperation in the land of discount bourbon and Holden versus Ford. I'm somewhat at a loss to understand the negative reaction in some of the comments posted; understanding the foibles and peculiarities of Australian suburbia is important to seeing the film in its correct context. Emily Barclay sinks her teeth into Katrina with such enthusiasm that as she careens across the landscape with baby in tow over gullible men, naive women, impotent police and her well-meaning father we're tempted more than once to suspend the moral judgement we should be making and simply sit back to enjoy the ride. Questions are asked of the audience as much as of the film's characters, making us uneasy and showing Katrina's real power to manipulate. How much does the need for excitement in our lives stop us from making decisions about what is right or wrong? Is Bailee the get-out-of-jail free card that entitles Katrina to salvation as we find that crime sometimes does pay? A fresh, upfront production that along with recent films like "Kenny" and "Footy Legends" lends confidence to the recovery of the Australian movie industry from the ball and chain of film-school textbook orthodoxy.

I do admire the courage of the producers of this version of the classic British series. To attempt to import the concept, no doubt with an optimism that character comedy so good surely must resonate with a local audience after some adjustments for local sensibilities is noble; unfortunately, they seem to have got the result they asked for. It's been hard for American comedy to successfully break the format of the sitcom with its setup-knockdown reliance on situations and dialogue to generate instant laughs. The Office's US version tries hard to provide some balance, but it seems to want to be the best of both worlds; the elements of the English version's deeply understated and character-based observationism, the essence of the original that the new version's creators wanted to use to underpin their script simply gets lost under the need to maintain broad strokes. Michael Scott's whiny voice and the cartoonish antics of underdeveloped characters like Dwight are allowed to swamp any opportunity to savour the subtleties that made the British version so unforgettable; the fragile and delicate thread that held Tim and Dawn together in the British version might otherwise draw Jim and Pam closer were the comedy stereo not turned up to full volume around them. There are amusing scenes to be sure, and a selection of laugh-out-loud moments, but the sensation of square pegs being force-drilled into round holes grates on a few too many occasions.

The rise of Middle Eastern terrorism is sharply drawn into focus here in this excellent thriller that prophesised volumes before its time. After a decade of aircraft hijacking and public displays of destruction aimed at drawing attention to Arab discontent having only marginal effect on Western consciousness, the massacre of Israeli athletes with the world watching at the 1972 Munich Olympics made terrorism a front and centre issue for the United States and the world. The movie's terrorist group is Black September, the cabal made famous as that responsible for the Munich events. The idea that supposedly patriotic Anglo-Saxon Americans could assist in such a diabolical plan was exceptionally bold, showing a precipitous downside to American military power after Vietnam and Frankenheimer shows great perception in drawing attention to the human casualties the war left behind, an issue that would rise to great prominence in American politics in the years afterward. The use of the blimp's image as a peaceful, quiet device synonymous with America's biggest sporting celebration on a day when the country is at its most relaxed heightens our anxiety knowing something so well-loved and apparently harmless is about to be the delivery device for unparalleled mass murder. Twenty five years ago the scale of the terrorist's plan and the death and destruction envisaged would have been dismissed by detractors as overkill and scaremongering. How could white Anglo-Saxon Protestants with no apparent connection to anti-American influences kill men, women and children en masse in their own country? How could anyone be capable of carefully planning and executing a plot to indiscriminately kill thousands of innocent people in such a callous and brutal manner? If only history had proved us all wrong.

Once again, Johnny Depp needs to call on his powers as one of the great actors of his time to save this gigantically overblown sequel to part one of the Pirates franchise. The stunts are great. The jeopardy scenes are inventive. The costumes are spectacular. But where's the plot? An hour into the feature and we've seen a host of quality action and choreography to go with Keira Knightley's heaving bosom, Orlando's pouting and Depp's masterful Cockney lecher's leer, but it feels like five short action features one after the other with nothing holding them together. One review of this movie I saw noted it was five minutes longer than Goodfellas, and pointed the question as to what might be gained as a viewer from this as a result as opposed to taking in the Scorsese masterpiece. Cut it down to 115 minutes and you've got a quality pop blockbuster the audience can go home from brushing off the popcorn crumbs with all and sundry telling their friends how they can't wait for the last one, and plenty of good script ideas left over to use in the final instalment. Mind you, it always pays to stay till the end. I've never seen an actor steal a two and a half hour movie with his only line in a fifteen second scene, but well, it's all in a day's work for Geoffrey Rush.

Wow. If your main prior experience of Aboriginal film is with black and white documentary footage from the 50s and 60s or with the many films examining the impact of white culture on black society and the often tragic results of their interplay, this will turn it on its head. The movies worships nature and the land in the same way Aboriginal culture views the land not as backdrop or something to be exploited, but as almost human itself. Without qualification or embellishment, the camera marvels at the beauty of the landscape, and we do too. The story is set many generations ago, but there is no sense of time; it could be yesterday, or 40,000 years ago. Time hasn't changed the way of life of the people we are introduced to nor the lessons the young must learn to reach maturity, as our hero Yeeralpiril discovers. David Gulpilil's narration is so masterful it suggests he has another twenty stories up his sleeve just as beguiling to tell you as this one. Film-making like this is a rare experience. Let there be more.