Sunday, December 20, 2009

A Thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever (or not)

[Yet again] I won some tickets to the preview of Jane Campion's new film Bright Star (thank you So yesterday afternoon, after Marianna's ballet concert, off I went with my mum to WBJ.

This movie polarised me somewhat. On the one hand it is a stunningly beautiful movie. Every scene, every frame is mesmorising in its opulance and gorgeous detail; the light and shadows, the textures of fabrics. The film is beautifully cast and the actors all do a wonderful job, though I did find Abbie Cornish a tiny bit stone faced at times.
On the other hand it was as slow as a week of wet Sundays . The action moving along like a snail on valium. It was also a good 20 minutes too long in general. Another point on the negative side of the ledger for me was that the actor playing Keats had a remarkable resemblance to my ex-husband, which was unnerving at times.

Maybe I find it hard to relax into a slow paced movie these days, maybe it was because I went to see it after Marianna's ballet concert (and had already been sitting down for numerous hours). Whatever the reason I did get restless, like a few others in the cinema around me, including the young man who kept falling asleep next to me.

Anyway, I could probably sum up by saying I loved it and it annoyed me all at the same time. Watching it was like a plate of Nouvelle Cuisine - all beauty but little substance. Maybe I'm just a cynical old cow that has trouble with these old fashioned, pure love stories. As Tina Turner put it all those years ago what's love got to do with it?...

Friday, December 18, 2009

Happy Non-denominational Festive Season

Life is super busy right now. Marianna has her ballet concert tomorrow and Sunday sees us at yet another Wiggles Christmas Concert (I'm going to miss those damned Wiggles when the kids turn 20 and don't want to see them anymore). The next week is going to disappear in seconds.

It's a week to go until THE DAY.

The day the big fat man in red visits this heathen family. You all know what I'm talking about.

So I just wanted to take a moment to wish everyone a happy and (hopefully) relaxing Holiday Season and all the good things in life (like love, health and happiness) for 2010.

I hope we can all take a moment to remember that Baby Jesus died so that we can overspend on overpriced plastic crap toys for our children and eat way more than is good for us. [I'm no biblical scholar but I'm pretty sure that's how it goes.]

Ho Ho Ho! (which will be the name of my proposed brothel... stay tuned for further developments)

Me and My Robbie

I've been listening to RW's Reality Killed The Video Star a fair bit lately. I always start of slowly, almost reluctantly. It's hard work getting to know a new album (or should I say iTunes download; it doesn't have the same ring to it, does it). It's awkward, a little uncomfortable. Always easier to put on a much loved, well known old friend, singing along in the car being one of my all-time favourite activities.

With Reality I was especially slow off the mark because the first single Bodies didn't really ring my bell.

But slowly I've been easing myself into it and now the rewards are being reaped.

I would have to say at this point my TOP TWO are:

1) Do You Mind
This is Robbie at his cheeky, naughty best. A rocking tune and when he asks:
Do, ooh ooh, ooh, ooh ya mind, if I, II, I, I, II, I touch ya?
Well, what can a girl say? Except YES YES YES (oops, did I say that out loud?).
[After re-reading this I've realised I meant to say NO NO NO, but obviously I could never say NO to Robbie.]

2) Blasphemy
This one is more of Robbie's theatrical confessional style song. Best of all there is some great play on words which I especially love. Here's a taste:
I can’t behave
I know it’s not the heathen in me
It’s just that I’ve been bleeding lately
Don’t turn to me
bite your tongue, the torrid weapon
You could learn a useful lesson

What’s so great about the great depression?
Was it a blast for you?
‘Cause it’s blasphemy

With each new album I worry that I'm going to be disappointed. After all it's hard to better or even equal Come Undone or Sexed Up or Strong. But somehow the new music grows on me and soon enough takes its place amongst the favourites list I can't wait to belt out when I'm driving my poor children from A to B (no wonder they love their iPods so much).

Monday, December 07, 2009


I am scared to open my email InBox these days because there is a non-stop stream of messages about up-coming concerts and events that I would like to go to. It doesn't seem to stop. Ever.

Still recovering from the Cold Chisel concert and with tickets for George Michael hot off the press, today I receive an email that Rufus Wainwright will be touring in March 2010.

He is someone I fell in love with at the Came So Far For Beauty concert and I have wanted to see him doing a solo show ever since. I fear that yet again I won't manage to see him as it so hard to afford to see absolutely everyone and everything. At some point the elasticity of our budget (ha!) can simply stretch no further.

Which brings me to ideas about how to make extra money. Being a fan of the show Satisfaction (new season starting this week) I got to thinking about prostitution. Surely it wouldn't be that bad. And I'm sure Big Jay wouldn't mind, as long as we could afford to see all the bands we like.

So now it's just a matter of finding a brothel specialising in short, fat women with big boobs and the tendancy not to shave their legs as often as they should.

Sunday, December 06, 2009


I don't like to throw around the big words but sometimes only the biggest will do.

Last night was one of those occassions!

Cold Chisel, live, in front of something like 50,000 adoring bogans* fans. It really was huge and fantastic. A warm gorgeous Sydney summer evening, ANZ Stadium filled with drunk (but to their credit well behaved) motor heads and a whole bunch of Cold Chisel fans who were just there for the concert, the air thick with anticipation.

When the Chisels were around I wasn't that into them. They were the peripheral soundtrack to Australian life in the 70s and 80s; if the Mentals were part of our DNA then the Chisels were the atoms we were made of. As I've got older I've come to appreciate more and more how important their songs were and what they had to say about Australian life in that era.

Last night underlined one thing for me: Ian Moss is a phenomenal talent and the backbone of the band. Sure Jimmy Barnes is the roaring voice everyone knows and loves; the public represenation of an iconic Australian band. But it's Mossy who is the spirit, the soul; not only is he the writer of most of their songs but also a brilliant guitar player, his talent on full display last night.

Every song was huge, the crowd singing along to every word, but for me When The War Is Over and Forever Now stood out. Their emotional impact heightened by the night, by the crowd.

As we walked home with our sleepy kids and our friends and their sleepy kids, I was floating on air, exhilirated by the power of the music and the occassion. Feeling lucky to have experienced it with the people I love.

* I think we may have exceeded the legal safe limit of bogans in a one square kilometer radius last night. I'm not sure but we may have also broken the record for the number of mullets in the same venue at the same time, and that was just the women.

Saturday, December 05, 2009

Gibber Jabber defines "gibberish" as:

1. rapid chatter like that of monkeys

2. incomprehensible talk; nonsense

My confession at this point is that I tend to talk a lot of gibberish (as defined in both ways), especially when I meet someone new or when I'm in an anxiety inducing situation, or some combination of both.
Such a moment is approaching on Tuesday morning when my dear sister flies home after two years O/S with her new American boyfriend, M.
The idea of this fills me with great excitement and great anxiety. I just know my tendancy to gibber will be at it's peak in such a situation and I am preparing myself for the worst (and I hope you are too, JB, if you're reading this).
If you are reading this JB, I apologies in advance for anything stupid, offensive, unfunny, low brow and/or downright embarrassing I may, and  probably will, say.
As I've often said, I only open my mouth to change feet.

Thursday, December 03, 2009

And The Ass Saw The Angel

No, this isn't an entry about a date between Al Gore and Ginnifer Goodwin (who admittedly isn't quite angelic, but is super cute and the best person I can think of this late at night to use in this example).

What it is is a book review of the old Nick Cave novel which I have finally got around to finishing.

I bought it as a Pengiun Classic a couple of months ago because a) I had always wanted to read it and b) it was reduced to $7.95 which is a reasonable price for a new book in my book.

I took it away on holidays to the Gold Coast with me because it is such a small book and I thought I could get through it quickly. I was wrong. Mainly it didn't grab me at first. The first few pages had me struggling and at one point I thought I would just have to throw in the towel because I couldn't cope with the protagonist's use of the term "ah" for "I" as a way of representing his hillbilly accent. At the beginning it nearly drove me round the twist.

Then I fell into it and the only thing that stopped me devouring it was the [lack of] time factor during the holiday.

So I've managed to finish it these last couple of weeks by snatching a few pages here and there. Not the most satisfactory way of reading but beggars can't be choosers.

I found myself very surprised to have so thoroughly enjoyed a book featuring not one single endearing character. There is not a single likeable person in the entire novel.

Nick Cave is fascinated with religion, the Bible and the dark side of society and the human psyche. In And The Ass Saw The Angel these points collide in a rollercoaster ride through madness.

There are certainly faults to be found for the nitpicky reader and I couldn't entirely overlook these. But overall it was a great, dark, gothic tale and the atmosphere was built perfectly. Like his songs, which resonate with my darker side, this book takes you to a place you'd rather not think about but which is fascinating nevertheless. Like a horrorific car accident, you are repulsed but can't drag your eyes away.

Wednesday, December 02, 2009

Burn the heretic

Who knew that one day it would come this? I don't like to say that I'm on Tony Abbott's side. There is a lot about him I don't like: the conservative Catholic ideology - anti abortion, anti divorce, yada yada.

But how can I not love a man, the only man, who is publicly showing some balls, real balls, by standing up against the most stupid, ridiculous, beyond ridiculous, waste of money, waste of public resources, waste of my sanity, piece of shit legislation ever seen in this country?

Of course, being a politician, he couldn't maintain by admiration for long. Having previously said that climate change is a "lot of crap" [I believe I'm quoting him correctly] he has now stated he's a "believer" [meaning, he hasn't totally got the guts to straight out state that the emperor is naked].

I am finding all this bullshit so increibly frustrating. Whenever something about it comes on the radio or news I literally feel my blood boiling. One of these days I will burst a gasket, I'm sure of it.

To be frank if we're going to live in a world ruled by Emission Trading Schemes and similar models of public insanity than I'm on the "I wish the world would hurry up and end already" bandwagon. Maybe I'll start a FaceBook page with that title...

No rest for the wicked

Just in case December wasn't trying to kill me I've already started to make sure that January and February will finish me off.

The ticket drawer already contains:

1) Tickets for David Sedaris.

2) Tickets for Antony and The Johnsons (with a friggin' symphony orchestra at the Sydney Opera House - heaven!)

3) Tickets for AC/DC at The Stadium.

On Friday I'll be trying to buy tickets for George Michael at the Football Stadium, also for February.

Somewhere in there we also have a weekend away planned.

Like Bon Jovi I'll sleep when I'm dead.