Posts Tagged shameless self-promotion
The Time Out juggernaut recently reached Melbourne, and I’ve been writing features, interviews and the occasional review for them. The best part? While you can still ride your dinosaur to your local newsagent and buy it in print, all its content’s online as well! You can’t search by author if you want to find my stuff, unfortunately, but here are some of my personal highlights spanning the first few issues.
I interviewed writer / director Andrew Haigh about his enormously moving drama Weekend and asked him what movie he finds genuinely romantic.
Inspired by Hugo and The Artist, I wrote about other films that wistfully look back at their own ancestors.
I talked to nomadic French filmmaker Vincent Moon about how his famous ‘Take Away Shows’ capture music in a way that regular concert documentaries can’t.
Something non-film: I profiled the inspirational Father Bob Maguire about 38 years of fighting the good fight.
And my favourite – because it did what all my favourite interviews do and exposed me to a world I’d never really considered before – I was taken on a walking tour of Melbourne’s cinema graveyards:
According to Dean Brandum, the multi-storey car park next to the Forum theatre is “hallowed ground”. It was once the enormous Majestic Theatre, retooled and refurbished as The Chelsea in 1960. By the mid-70s, however, The Chelsea had become Melbourne’s home of exploitation cinema. “Lots of pornography,” says Brandum, “and lots of European horror like Giallo films. The story goes that you could always see more rats than customers.”
Check out Time Out Melbourne here.
Is there anything more frightening than the words “BUY TICKETS” next to the title of a movie you wrote?
“What is genre cinema today? And to answer it, I said we have to look at genre film in its most iconoclastic form, in all its differences.”
Last year – the first of Camera Lucida – included Quentin Duplex’s killer tire movie Rubber and Hirokazu Koreeda’s poetic, absurd Air Doll. This year, it opens with William Eubank’s avant-garde sci-fi Love and closes with the world premiere of EXIT on August 4.
Their description of EXIT begins like this: “According to legend, there exists at the heart of the city a door that opens upon a parallel universe. No one knows its origin or where it leads.” It calls EXIT “one of the best science fiction films of the year, merging a small budget with big ideas.”
(Is EXIT a science fiction film? I think that’s a very interesting question, actually…)
You can read Fantasia’s full description here, as well as watch our trailer and buy tickets for the premiere. The director Marek Polgar and I will be guests of the festival, too, and we can’t wait.
In Australia, not long ago, we were amongst the first to see the respectable 6pm Saturday deadline for Harold Camping’s predicted rapture. It was impossible to ignore the fact that the world actually didn’t end. Don’t worry – he’s now said that it’ll come in October, and this time was more of a spiritual armageddon. The kind most of us wouldn’t notice.
But all this rapture-talk reminded me of a novella I wrote, inspired by my own odd feeling of disappointment when the world didn’t end on New Year’s Eve 1999. It’s called Zero Zero Zero, and features the hyperactive, advertising-tinged writing style I used a few years ago. (I’ve been trying to tame it ever since.) It stars a conceptual supermodel, a vigilante postman, and a young man receiving private, inexplicable broadcasts of a sci-fi radio serial.
I thought I’d put the first chapter, Midnight, online for anyone who might still be feeling a little apocalyptically unsettled.