You're off the Island

You know I am not one to extol the virtues of reality television. I’m much more of a fiction gal. Apart from the fact that most reality TV is debased, depressing, degrading and dismal – it’s keeping great writers out of work and it’s force feeding a generation of tv audiences so much junk food they wouldn’t recognize great television even if I gave them a map (you take a left on 100 Centre Street, you rest in Deadwood, and if you Love My Way you’ll be lucky enough to join a tour of the West Wing).

But I must admit I do have a weakness, one that began 12(!) seasons ago with the now famous catchcry :

Survivors ready?

Tonight was episode 1 of Survivor Panama: Exile Island where we were introduced to our new castaways - and what an extremely American bunch they were. Favourites so far include The Missile Engineer, The Astronaut and The Writer (can you guess which one is doomed from the get go?).

I don’t know their names, names are not important at this juncture. They’ve always got cool jobs these people. Remember last season there was a guy who was an actual Rocket Scientist? There was a Dolphin Trainer, a Chef, and Fireman too at one point.

What is its appeal? Maybe it’s the combination of several of my favorite stories – Lord of The Flies, Treasure Island, Peter Pan. Maybe it’s the resourcefulness needed to build a shelter, start a fire, catch fish. Maybe it’s the knowledge that I wouldn’t last a minute out there - I like to think I’m tough, but faced with an obstacle course I’d be running for the nearest hammock!

Maybe it’s the sight of Jeff (sigh) Probst in shorts – glowing with good health by the light of the tribe torches.

At its heart is a very character driven show. Who can forget Rupert the Pirate, Boston Rob, Johnny Fairplay, and the classic Richard Hatch? But to be honest with you I'm hard pressed to find any justification for my attachment to it. But attached I am.

I get a wee bit weary of the overly healthy athletic types with their excellent abdomens and ability to maintain cuteness despite not having bathed for three weeks - I can't maintain cuteness for any longer than three hours - after that the wheels fall off.

For once I’d like to see a tribe like this

Simon the Slacker
Jim the Paranoid Schizophrenic
Dave the Psychic
Suzy the Manic Depressive
Ramona the Couch Potato
Jean Pierre the Terrorist
Misty the Heroin Addict

We would kick ass. Maybe do some psychological damage while we’re at it…

PS - all week on Handmadelife (a magazine blog venture created by excellent cohort Beck and myself) it's all about Survivor craft, check it out!

Hes like so cool you know?

When you fall in love with someone you do so whole heartedly – all their quirks, mannerisms, the way they speak. And then one day you wake up and everything’s different. All the things you loved about that person suddenly make you want to slap them in the face before walking away (in slow motion of course).

That’s how I feel about Nicholas Cage.

I've been inundated with good reviews for his new film The Weatherman which I had decided long ago not to see. Why would I? I can’t suffer through another ego driven nutty performance by Mr. Cage.

It just isn’t worth it anymore.

And then this week something happened. Like discovering an old high school yearbook I stumbled on a rare screening of classic eighties romantic teen film ‘Valley Girl’ (1983). And there was a very young Nicolas in all his splendor. A wonderful new wave haircut, a dopey lovesick look in his eye and that very particular way he dips his language up and down. And I remembered something I had long since forgotten:

I love Nicholas Cage.

I know what you’re thinking. What about Con Air, The Rock, Gone in Sixty Seconds? These are all bad (but fun!) movies where he is the very worst thing in them. What about Face Off, National Treasure, City of Angels? Yes these are all truly awful and yes a big part is Mr. Cages fault. If he’s not directed properly his performances can become so forced it can set your teeth on edge. He seems to be screaming ‘Look at Me’ with every twitch and snap of his fingers.

But when he is good, man he is really good. Try and put those others aside for a moment and remember

Moonstruck (for the romantics and opera fans)

Raising Arizona (for the parents and Coen Bros Fans)

Birdy (delicate, heartbreaking, Alan Parkers second best film after Fame)

Vampires Kiss (because it’s sexy and funny and joyous)

Wild at Heart (it's David Lynch, so I'll defend it to my death)

Matchstick Men (If anyone can play obsessive compulsive it's Cage)

Adaptation (no better portrayal of writers block ever)

Bringing Out The Dead (underrated Scorsese, hang on isn't everythings Scorsese's done underrated?)

And if none of those get you… and let’s face it you may need more convincing after Captain Corellis Mandolin, I want you all to trek down to your Blockbusters and rent Leaving Las Vegas. Maybe you’ll too learn to love what has almost become unlovable in his finest performace to date as the alcoholic screenwriter who decides to literally drink himself to death.

See he is good isn't he? You'd forgotten because the foul stench of Snake Eyes, The Family Man and Windtalkers still hang in the air.

But I find myself after an afternoon in the Valley remembering the good times. I won't be running out to see National Treasure 2, but the Weatherman may be vintage Cage, and therefore well worth it.

PS I haven’t mention Rumblefish. It’s too important too me, I’m saving it for a while.

Blow the Whistle

Last night I watched the classic whistleblower film Silkwood (1984). I’d listened intently a week ago to a discussion on Radio National about the nature of whistle blowing and I wondered what I would do if faced with a similar situation.

I had only seen Silkwood the one time on video when I was a young teenager and it deeply affected me then. I’m not sure why I’ve only seen it the once but it seemed appropriate to revisit it this week given that the Federal Government is toying with the idea of selling uranium to China and I had listened to the radio piece just days before.

The film documents the events leading up to the death of Karen Silkwood (Meryl Streep) a young employee of a nuclear facility who was purposefully contaminated and possibly murdered after attempting to expose appalling safety violations.

Streep won best actress as did Cher for her supporting turn as Karen’s sympathetic housemate. Mike Nichols also won for best director and Nora Ephron for best screenplay.

It’s a sad and quiet film; resolute in its depiction of Karen’s pathetic life (a young Kurt Russell is divine as her woebegone boyfriend Drew). It’s only towards the end, when Karen makes the decision that she has no choice but to expose the truth that she realizes that this is what will define her life. She repeats a line used earlier by a Washington union official “there is a moral imperative”.

We all like to think we would do the right thing, but what is the right thing? Can we ever really be sure that the risk is worth taking? I think what is so fascinating about these stories is that in nearly all cases these are very ordinary people who go to extraordinary lengths to expose something they know is wrong often with devestating consequences.

I don’t know what I would do, do you?

Top Five Whistleblower Movies

China Syndrome
The Boiler Room
Silkwood
The Insider
Erin Brockovich

On a lighter note James Rebhorn appears in Silkwood for five minutes at the end…

Off The Couch

Well Dear Readers I have done it. I have left the couch. Only temporarily I promise. I have been gripped by Commonwealth Games fever. I have managed to get it together to buy the odd ticket and go and catch some of the action.

I'd play myself but really they don't call me Unco Southpaw for nuttin. As many of you know I can get a wee bit sports obsessed. If they made 'spectator' an event I may be in with a shot. But I do love what sport does for people, I love the joy it brings.

I love the fact that these are games we are playing - can there be anything more fantastic than watching animals at play?

Last night it was the weightlifting - Mens 56kg class to be precise. We had perfect seats between a middle aged one-pot wonder and a young boy so large he could almost qualify as a small bear (both utterly delighful).

We watched in awe as very small men in lycra lifted nearly three times their own bodyweight. We were gripped with excitement as Baharom Mohd Faizal Bin of Malaysia, who seemed to be the smallest man in the room, took the gold medal with an astounding lift of 135 in the clean and jerk.

I spent this morning learning that Wales cannot play table tennis but that India can. That it's actually fun to yell out 'aussie aussie aussie' with a couple thousand other people (especially when we win - well done girls).

I also learnt that there are no nicer people in the world than the army of volunteers who, given half the chance and a loudspeaker, will crack jokes left right and centre. I can't afford to see any other sport 'in situ' but will be trotting off all over town to the millions of free events. I really got the fever!

Mind you I've been looking at the tv guide....

Lawn Bowls, Badminton, Hockey...note how I spell this with capitals, give these people the respect they deserve.

Now where is the remote control?

I'm headin' back to Couchville folks, where I truly belong!

Confession Booth

Yesterday afternoon my friend Beck announced that she has never seen 'ET' (citing anti-religious reasons and the fact that when it came on tv some years back she had to go to a Beastie Boys gig instead - fair enough).

"whaddya mean you've never seen ET?" I said indignantly. I was outraged! Beck is only a couple of years older than I and has no generational excuse for not seeing it. She actually has quite a list of films she hasn't seen yet, that she's saving.

Beck's not saving ET, she couldn't give a toss for that godbotherin nonsense.

But we are talking about Spielberg...vintage Spielberg! I saw ET at least twice at the movies (I was 11 at the time, films were really important back then) and rented it a half dozen times before buying it on DVD when the special anniversary edition came out in 2002. I even had the novelisation of the film (does anyone remember those? they were these weird paperback versions of films - often with different endings based on the original scripts).

I laughed, I cried and I even imagined my bike taking off into the moonlight.

As you can imagine I stewed on this gap in my friends film library for quite a while... then the heavens opened up and a voice said to me

"Yeah but you haven't seen Schindlers List."

True

In fact there are a number of films I should have seen that I still haven't managed to squeeze in between Footloose and Scary Movie

and so I must confess

I've seen Rocky 4 but I haven't seen Raging Bull
I've seen Wall Street but I haven't seen Citizen Kane (I know, crazy)
I've seen Legally Blonde 2 but not Mr Smith Goes To Washington
I've seen Crimson Tide but not Das Boot
I've seen Barbershop but not Jean de Florette
I've seen Back to the Future 3 but not The Good The Bad and The Ugly.
I've seen Mel Gibson's Hamlet but not Kenneth Branagh's Hamlet

And forget about the French New Wave...I just haven't got round to it.

But I will, I promise.
Now I gotta go, The Matrix Revolutions is the late night movie...

hang on isn't that about God too...?

A History of Violence

Tonight I was lucky enough to go to the opening night of A History of Violence - the new David Cronenberg film that has finally made it to our shores. I have a shelf dedicated to Cronenberg - books, DVD's,even down to a collection of scripts. Nearly all of his films are in my long list of favorites so it wasn't going to take much to get me to a 9pm screening - even if it meant missing the West Wing (thankyou ABC - it means so much to us all, did anyone tape it?)

Of course like all women aged between 8 and 80 Viggo Mortensen is also a bit of a draw card. There is no denying he seems to be an ideal man - tall handsome poet with cheekbones you can slice cheese off and the bluest saddest eyes. He's an ideal Cronenberg leading man. Like James Spader, James Woods, Ralph Fiennes, Jeff Goldblum before him there is an intensity and darkness in his performance even before things take an inevitable turn for the worse.

Many reviewers have said that this isn't like any other Cronenberg film. In fact some of the more disgusting and hardcore elements of the original graphic novel by John Wagner were left completely untouched by Cronenberg which came as a surprise. But I would argue that there is a thread between all his films that goes beyond all the theorizing about the body and technology.

All of his films are about being true to your nature - even when that takes you to some very dark places.

It wouldn't be Cronenberg without sex. He again uses sex scenes as a device for the characters to have a conversation without words. I have very mixed feelings about sex scenes, particularly in mainstream films (some of them I love, but most are just silly) but Cronenberg uses it as another language in all his work. They are often clumsy, uncomfortable and linger too long on the wrong things (much like life I guess) and he never forgets that we as the viewer are the intruder - placing the camera at awkward angles, not overloading the scenes with music.

There are two sex scenes in AHOV, one at each end (ahem) and they act as a kind of mirror to the action. The first scene was so deeply intimate that the audience laughed a little with embarrassment. I thought it was hot stuff and went along way in demonstrating how much the central character stood to lose as things unravelled. The second, so brutal and violent you couldn't help but remember the first and wonder if this was the same man and woman.

Actress Maria Bello (so fine in last year's The Cooler) is always fearless in her performances. She brings so much to characters that don't come from the script. I want to see her do much more than play the supportive wife/girlfriend roles. She does well here and is a fine match for Viggo.

A History Of Violence is certainly not a masterpiece as some overseas reviewers have put it but it is a movie for grown ups. It's a movie about revenge, love, family, violence, men, nature vs nurture. It most certainly is a Cronenberg film - just one that won't leave you feeling quite so violated.

Now I'm going out to buy the box set of West Wing Season 4...

Tonight on Jamie Oliver's new show 'Jamies Great Escape' we had the dubious pleasure of watching him slaughter a lamb before skinning it, slow roasting it then feeding it to large group of really delightful and hungry Italians.

It didn't come as a shock. I had read about the incident some time ago. The episode caused great consternation in Britain when the show was aired late last year. The creative sub editors of the tabloid press dubbed him 'Silencer of the Lamb' and animal welfare organisations accused him of promoting inhumane farming practices.

I've been ruminating on this event for some time now and this is what I've come up with. I've never killed my dinner. I don't know how many animals I've eaten, probably quite few. I do know that when I go to the supermarket and buy those lovely rump steaks there isn't some magic machine out the back producing the meat. I'm aware that a slaughter has taken place so that I can have my Sunday roast.

That being said there is no chance of me ever being a vegetarian. I'm such a meat eater I've listed a bacon sandwich as my preferred last meal and I've also been known to have a thin slice of quickly fried black pudding on rye toast for breakfast.

I have nothing against vegetarians. In fact I'm quite fond of a number of them. I like cooking with them, eating with them and standing up for them at carnivorous dinner parties. As much as I adore Anthony Bourdain I don't hold with his idea that all vegetarians are scum..Funny but not fair really.

Jamie Oliver was clearly distressed at having carried out the act of literal butchery but he did make one salient point "A chef who's cooked 2,000 sheep should kill at least one".

I've never killed my dinner. Maybe it would help if I said 'This was an animal. An animal with parents, with a face, with a voice. And I'm going to eat it'.

I've never killed my dinner. I imagine if I had to every time I wanted to have a lamb chop, maybe I wouldn't have them quite so often.

And the Oscar Goes To...

Alright I think it's important that people like me put our cards on the table.

Best Actor will go to Phillip Seymour Hoffman
Best Actor should go to Joaquin Pheonix

Best Supporting Actor will go to Paul Giamatti
Best Supporting Actor should go to Matt Dillon (never thought I'd write that sentence!)

Best Actress will go to Reese Witherspoon...deservedly.

Best Supporting Actress will go to Rachel Weisz (yawn)
Best Supporting Actress should go to Frances McDormand (woo ho!)

Best Animated Feature willl go to Wallace and Gromit
Best Animated Feature should go to Howls Moving Castle (genius)

Best Director will go to Ang Lee for Brokeback Mountain
Best Director should go to...I guess Ang Lee. But my heart will be with George.

Best Documentary will go to March of The Penguins
Best Documentary should go to Murderball (my #1 film of 2005!)

Best Film will go to Brokeback Mountain
Best Film should go to The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou

(wait that's not actually nominated...)

I think I'll be waiting a long time to see the best actor categories full of Will Ferrell, Adam Sandler, Richard E Grant, Ewan McGregor, Gary Sinise. At least this year it's hosted by one of my top five sexiest men alive (yes there is a list) satirist Jon Stewart.



Trust me, those of you that don't know him from his brilliant daily show will fall madly in love with him despite missing out on an opening song. He'll crack some great anti Bush jokes and he can raise one eyebrow - what's not to love about that?

Films that were overlooked by the academy this year include the very beautful Sin City, the wry Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, the hilarious 40 Year Old Virgin, the brilliant Rize, the lovely Shopgirl, and the sophisticated Upside of Anger.

I'll dish the dirt post-ceremony here on Couchville. Everyone enjoy the show

Happy Birthday to the Demon Dog

Birthday greetings go out today to the finest crime writer of our time Mr James 'mad-as-a-cut- snake' Ellroy who was born on this day in 1958. When my eyes have grown weary of the screen I have been known to reach for an Ellroy tome and spend several hours transfixed by the dark and corrupt streets of L.A.

I even named my cat after him.

I was lucky enough many years ago to see him at a documentary film preview where he was weird, intense and candid about his work, life and neurosis. He was asked what he thought of two Australian boys being cast in L.A Confidential and he replied that he thought only Australians could capture the masculinity of those characters, that American actors were so soft there was no way they could pull it off. And he howled like a crazy man. That was excellent...

I've never been convinced about great writing making great films. Sometimes language has its own indefinable taste and colour that can't be replicated by actors (Australian or otherwise). It took me years to see LA Confidential which was far too tasteful for my liking and I can't say I'm looking forward to seeing the Black Dahlia when it's released later this year, or the Night Watchman some time after that (mind you The Nightwatchman blog is top drawer entertainment). But I really can recommend the much underrated Browns Requiem - a fine adaptation of Ellroys compelling first novel. Hard to find but well worth it.

And as you all know I love lists - James Ellroy's top ten films

Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
The Godfather part II (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974)
The Prowler (Joseph Losey, 1951)
The Lineup (Don Diegel, 1958)
The Big Knife (Robert Aldrich, 1955)
Odds Against Tomorrow (Robert Wise, 1959)
Sunset Boulevard (Billy Wilder, 1950)
Double Indemnity (Billy Wilder, 1944)
Out of the Past (Jacques Tourner, 1947)
711 Ocean Drive (Joseph M. Newman, 1950)

Raise your choc tops!

Our beloved ABC Radio National movie reviewer Julie Rigg reported a story last week that caught my attention. Gold Coast woman Ms Pauline Clayton was charged with assault in a Texan court and fined $150 after touching a woman on the arm in a screening of Brokeback Mountain after repeatedly asking her to get off the phone. The woman ran screaming and demanded ms Clayton be arrested for invading her private space.

On behalf of all moviegoers I'd like to state my support for Ms Clayton. Because you know what? It happens almost everytime I go to the cinema. Its not just the mobile phones either. Oh no. I have a list as long as my arm of ways people can ruin your movie experience. In fact I wouldn't mind my own day in court...

Regular readers will know that I do (on occasion) leave the comforts of Couchville to enter the hallowed halls of moviehouses nationwide. Needless to say there's a few guidelines I'd like us all to follow just for the comfort and safety of all concerned...

Theatre should be clean
All of us should have a clear view of the screen.
The film should run on time and be projected correctly (ya hear that Nova!)
vanilla choctop fridge should be well stocked, popcorn fresh, coca cola cold
My friend Michael should have a isle seat to accomodate his giraffe length legs

And there should be absolutely not talking.
not a word, not a whisper.

shut up.
I mean it.

If you want to talk to each other go home.
If you want to make out then get a room - preferably one that I'm not in (unless it's you and I making out, if it is then why the hell are we at the movies?)
If you do not understand the plot, you are an idiot.
If it is a muscial do not sing along.
Crying I can tolerate (mainly because I'm prone to it)
Do not bring a McDonalds happy meal in with you


And don't under any circumstances answer your mobile phone.

you my friend are not that important.

So raise your maltesers in honour of this feerless moviegoer. Pauline Clayton we applaud you.