Top 5 Films

It's very hard for me to do a Top 5 Films list without at least three of them being film-musicals, I hope everyone appreciates that difficulty.

I'm not generally a feature-length sort of girl, really, due mainly to the combination of factors a) that I'm too much of a penny-pincher to see films whilst they're at the cinema, and b) that I fall asleep during anything over half an hour long when watching it at home. I don't go in for "movies" a lot, so please excuse how pretentious this list looks - I assure you it represents the films that have really stayed with me.

5. Picnic at Hanging Rock

This film was the first film I ever studied, in year 7 English. There are three things that really stick in my mind with this film - the opening quote: "All we see, and all we seem, are but a dream... A dream within a dream..." - the beautiful-slash-completely creepy panflute-dominated score, and the strange, sometimes disturbing aura of pubescent feminine sexuality that pervades the film. The howling winds (genuinely recorded at Hanging Rock), the omnipresent ants, the white roses pinned to every breast, Sarah's straining, tragic affection for Miranda, and the unanswered question of the girls' disappearance make the film so perfectly disjointed, truly one of the great mysteries of our culture.

.. That being said, if you read the last chapter of the book on which it's based, it transpires that they've all turned into bush-dwelling creatures. Which not only destroys the mystery but is a very crap ending. Great thanks go to Peter Weir for avoiding that one.

4. Slumdog Millionaire

Slumdog has got to be one of the best pieces of storytelling I've ever born witness to. The way that Jamal's story weaves so perfectly through the questions, the way his life is reflected back on to you as an audience is just so wonderful and engaging, not only did I sit through the whole thing, but I stayed awake watching it again at home. Jai Ho indeed!

3. Akira

If you haven't seen this film (1988, first example of a completely cel-animated feature) then I cannot explain it to you. Go watch it, it's a visual masterpiece and an unusually intricate and genuinely disturbing representation of a futuristic dystopia. No seriously, just go watch it. The reason that it's on my list (and it's the one film that hasn't left my top 5 since I was 13) is because I think it's so important to the way that film has developed as a medium, not to mention art and anime practice.

2. Y Tu Mama Tambien

This film hasn't left my Top 5 since I was 15, so that's also a pretty big deal. Y Tu Mama tells the story of two young men who pick up an older, married woman and whisk her away on a varyingly debaucherous and introspective road trip, learning many important lessons on the way. The reason it's imprinted itself so successfully on my soul is definitely due to the tragic ending it has - the two young men are estranged by their sexual experiences with each other, and the woman leaves their lives just as she entered them, suddenly and without warning or explanation. I cannot describe how hollow I felt after I watched it for the first time, its a beautiful sort of ache that I don't think I've ever experienced again.

1. Love Actually

And now for something completely different!

Well, we're coming up to Christmas and Love Actually is my favourite film. I'm not too proud to admit that four amazing, affecting and important films (and the rest) rank below this one for me. Because it's a British rom-com featuring all my favourite British boys (Liam Neeson, Hugh Grant, Andrew Lincoln, Colin Firth and Alan Rickman) that gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling and always puts me in the mood for that tea-and-biscuits, cuddly brand of romance.

Eclectic, no? That's definitely the case with me and films, they're not really my thing until one I love comes along. What are your favourites?

Top 5 Songs

As someone who has been indoctrinated into a sort of classical mindset about music (thank you, dear) I find the word "song" very difficult to negotiate these days.

"Songs" are not "pieces", and some of Saturday's Top 5 are definitely "pieces". I've had to set myself one rule in making this list (a rule that makes things much easier, I will add) in that sections of musicals or operas, no matter how distinct as "songs", do not count. They are part of a greater work and therefore do not belong in the category of stand-alone musical "pieces". It also means that when I come to do my Top 5 Musicals, I wont have already mentioned them all now.

I think music triggers emotion and certainly emotional memory in a way nothing else really does, and that's why I think every song or piece someone puts in a list like this has to be meaningful, has to have a story. I know mine all do.

5. Danse Macabre - Camille Saint-Saens

Danse Macabre is pure classical pop, I know, but it was one of the first pieces I listened to after deciding to make an effort with the "classical" genre, and it stuck with me. I remember hearing it and being so taken in by the furious rhythms and strange tonality... until I played it in orchestra. Let me tell you right now there is nothing interesting about the double bass part, kind of ruined the whole thing for me.

Still, the fantastic waltz-beat of it and the amazingly eerie and supernatural sound-world it creates pulled me in and reawakened my passion for music, so for that it most definitely deserves a place on this list.

4. Hounds of Love - Kate Bush

From classical pop to actual pop... I love this song. This one's "story" is pretty crap, but the song is an absolute masterpiece of chipmunkery and for that I laud it's name. Kate Bush is, of course, a complete maniac, but I love love love her music, and especially this song. Nothing in the world motivates me to get up and throw myself out into the world like Hounds of Love does, a statement proven by the fact that I listened to it every morning on my way to school in the last month before I graduated. Before exams, before studying, whilst procrastinating studying - Kate Bush's greatest hits kept playing, and Hounds of Love kept on getting put on repeat.

3. Prelude to Cello Suite No. 1 - J.S. Bach

This story has to be picked around, for there is something of a risk of over-share in relation to this piece. Of course, this is the first section of one of Bach's most beautiful works for solo cello, the sound of which is instantly recognisable because of how widely it is used in film and television, but for me it just speaks volumes of earnest, straining, youthful love.

The first time I heard Roman play this piece, we weren't together. I think I was thinking about it, but I'm pretty sure he wasn't... that's kind of how it happened - I suggested it to him and he said "you know, I'd never really thought about it like that" - like all great romances, hey?

So anyway, I downloaded this piece and played it over and over, lying on my bed, worrying about whether my Great Love would ever love me back. And it's just the music for it.

A summer later, the Prelude's story came full circle for me. On some awful hot day, I lay on my back in my Great Love's music room, listening to him play it - just for me.

2. Call Me Al - Paul Simon

This is the Family Song. There are so many stupid, funny memories associated with this song that I can't think of any specifically, it's all melted into some silly pot of full family air-instrument bands whilst Paul Simon blares out unacceptably loudly over long car trips. Paul Simon, especially the Graceland album, makes me think of my dad, and my family, and all the wonderful, wacky love that exists there.

(I bags the air-trumpet).

1. With or Without You - U2

This song is not number one because I love the song. In fact, I've quite gone off it in the last couple of years, something about Bono being a rather large tool or something, but the moment in my memory that explodes into my mind every time I hear it is so pure and so clear that I can't ignore it.

When I was in year 12, I arranged a girls' vocal version of With or Without You for a concert, and the absolute most perfect moment in the entire song was decidedly the moment when the bassline comes in. It's low, even, and throbbing, it helps the music build in such an intense, emotional way that it's just perfect.

On the actual night of the concert, the music started, and as that beautiful bassline came in, I looked across the stage and saw Roman with my old electric bass slung over his shoulders, tapping away at it, and I couldn't help but beam.

That was such a moment for me, a completely still crystallised moment in time, in which I realised, so instantly that my inner-voice actually spoke the words, that I was in love.

I don't think it matters whether it's a song or a piece, whether it's interesting and artistic or a three-chord band job, the music that stays with you is always the music that was playing at that moment in time. We all have them, musically-triggered recollections. I think that's what is important to me about this project, that I can take all these moments where art has touched me and record them, leaving a perfect record of what matters to me at this moment.

King of Diamonds

My dear friend Harry dropped over the most amazing book about magic tricks. I've been completely obsessed with magic and illusions since I started watching Jonathan Creek a few weeks ago.

I can't imagine why, can you? ...

Anyway, this book is awesome but I am SO TERRIBLE at the card-flipping thing...

I learned one trick, practiced it a couple of times, bamboozled my brother and then tried it on my dad. He was fairly unimpressed. And even the brother figured it out the second time.
Is this your card? No? Oh. (shit.) Hang on!
Is THIS your card? Still no?
I'm loving the book, but I might have to give up on the actual practice...

My Dear Friend,

Words can not possibly express how joyful and hopeful you made me today.

For you -

Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.

Because sometimes life is black and white... but sometimes it's bright bower-blue.

Twenty Eight!

Oh my goodness, dolphins and porpoises, it's going to be twenty eight degrees on Sunday!

I know it's only August, but summer is really on its way, the breeze has been so wonderfully zephyric and balmy and I'm starting to turn into Summer Kenny (a fundamentally unsound oceanid with a desire to jump into water from dizzying heights) already.

So, just to get me more excited, twenty eight glorious things Sydney summer is bringing to me: -

1. Icy Poles

2. Clovelly

3. Twilight Picnics (mosquitos and all)

4. Strawberries

5. Raspberries

6. Blackberries

7. Eurydice

8. Making a Dent in My Reading List

9. Getting Oil Paints all over my Hands and Clothes

10. Sleeping with the Windows Open

11. The Clovelly Groper and his Lady Gropers

12. Late Nights at the Duck & Swan

13. White Sandals

14. Sun dresses

15. Home-Made Lemonade

16. Summer Projects

17. Sewing Bags and Dresses

18. Early Sunrises

19. Late Sunsets

20. Late Nights with Good Friends

21. The Mystery of Edwin Drood

22. Colourful Flowers Everywhere

23. Straw Hats

24. Sleeping Nude

25. Swimming in the Ocean Every Day

26. Wandering Through Markets

27. Living in Bare Feet

28. Spending a Third Summer Kissing That Man of Mine

Tea for Two

Hello Strangers,

I was just recalling an anecdote my darling boy once told me.

In the 1920's, the conductor of the Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra, Nikolai Malko, bet the composer Dmitri Shostakovich one hundred roubles that he couldn't completely arrange and re-orchestrate the Vincent Youmans standard Tea For Two in an hour.

Shostakovich, of course, did it. From memory. In forty five minutes.

If you're interested, the arrangement is called the Tahiti Trot, and after first being performed in Moscow in 1928, has been performed ever since.

Anyway, that's a fun little story that actually has nothing to do with what I want to talk about. Well, very little.

In the winter months (fuck you, Northern Hemisphere readers, your balmy weather reports are not welcome here) I am a tea fiend, especially when I'm staying up ridiculously late for no good reason.

So, today I bring you a post-hibernation reflection on tea. Mmm, deep.

Five Amazing Cups of Tea:

1. Russian Caravan, home-brewed by Dad, with a big splash of milk and a heaped teaspoon of sugar in a purple flower mug.

2. Chai tea with steamed soy milk from the Frisky Goat at Wynyard Station, drunk half-asleep on the bus to uni.

3. English Breakfast with a dash of milk in a Boleslawiec blue mug at Roman's house on a Sunday morning with a good British fry-up.

4. Jasmine tea in a latte glass at Toby's Estate, served with good conversation with a dear friend.

5. Hot lemon and manuka honey tea with a drop of liquid echinacea, the perfect healing potion when one is ailing.

Finally, I'd just like to share an image I have, an image of what I want my life to look like in the indeterminable future - it involves mugs!

Just to have a little house with some mis-matched furniture and a cat or two, a big bed with a nice quilt, and perhaps a blue-eyed man napping in it... and mugs. I can't wait to have a mug that's mine in my own cupboard in my own home.

It'll be special because of the hundreds of times I'll raise it to my lips. Whilst reading a good book. Whilst skritching a cat behind the ears. Over a fierce debate, over comfortable silence, over a murmured "I love you".

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

This little birdy is grateful to weheartit for the beautiful photos whilst I am devoid of camera.

It's fitting on a Sunday...

.. to talk about George and Dot.

George is my other love...

George is very special.

Dot is very special too... Have you ever seen a character and just thought...





"She is me."...?





I have.

Nothing seems to fit me right.

The less I wear, the more comfortable I feel.

More rouge...

George is very special.

Maybe I'm just not special enough for him.

If my legs were longer.

It my bust was smaller.

It my hands were graceful.

If my waist was thinner.

If my hips were flatter.

If my voice was warmer...

She sings with my voice... or do I sing with hers?





And George sings with a voice that's unlike anything else I've ever heard.

Mapping out a sky.

What you feel like,

planning a sky.

What you feel when voices that come

Through the window

Go...

Until they distance and die,

Until there's nothing but sky

And how you're always turning back too late

From the grass or the stick

Or the dog or the light,

How the kind of woman willing to wait's

Not the kind that you want to find waiting

To return you to the night,

Dizzy from the height,

Coming from the hat,

Studying the hat,

Entering the world of the hat,

Reaching through the world of the hat

Like a window...

George is an artist, Dot a work of art. They are my greatest inspiration.





I don't think you, reader, could possibly understand the power of this poetry until you hear it sung through George's lips.





If there is one new thing you listen to this week let it be Sondheim's aesthetic masterpiece Sunday in the Park With George.





This is what perfection sounds like.

Sunday in Pictures

Sunday began with tea, ricotta and jam toast, and a plum.

... sitting across from lovely Roman as he reads his paper (such a ritual ever since he got a free student subscription!)

Then we went to Manly, which I must say is not my favourite part of the east coast, but the light was just perfect on the almost-stormy summer day.

There's something very theraputic about the rocking of the waves as they come in, something so lovely and complimentary in the steely blue ocean against the frothy white foam...

I followed my lover over the rocks...
(feeling like some sort of amphibious fairy girl as I hopped over the wet stones)
I reminded my darling how silly and sweet he makes me feel by writing our names into the sand... it really was a very perfect little adventure for young lovers.

There is a certain aesthetic poetry in the lines and contours one finds at the cusp of earth and sea, I think.

Whether they're man-made...
..natural...
... or a crystalline mixture of both.

One finds all sorts of treasures at the seaside.
And some fascinating little creatures in its rock pools.

For me, there is nowhere like the coastline. It's the perfect place to sit and contemplate your next move...

.. or simply to gaze out at the supreme majesty of God's creation.

How Mary-Sue Got Her Groove Back or Caitlin's Twilight Film Review

Once upon a time there was a bored young woman called Stephanie. One day, Stephanie decided to turn her mind (an arguably blunt instrument) to writing teen fiction. And what better thing to write about than her own richly romanticised and deeply sexual fantasy life.


It's quite a common phenomenon for authors to insert sort of avatar or idealised form of themselves into their writing, and this is particularly common in magic-realist, fantasy, and teen drama tales, especially when written by young women (sorry ladies, you know it's true). Stephanie Meyer's Twilight slips neatly into this category and the result is one of the most blatant Mary-Sues (self inserted character) in the history of literature.





Similarly to my Beedle the Bard review, I must say that my love for Harry Potter, which many not-quite-academics say has had its throne usurped by Twilight and its three sequels, has coloured the way I read the book.


A friend of mine was quick to exclaim "it's syntax is identical in every sentence!" which is not as much of an exaggeration as one would think. The narrative flow variously drags and races in places, it misses the mark when it comes to philosophical dialogue about the nature of the vampires' cursed immortality, and the romance between MaryBella and Edward (cue fangirlish shrieks here) is so implausible even before we consider the fact that he's 108 and drinks blood.


However - it is undeniably addictive. Another friend of mine told me that he found its page-turning quality second only to Da Vinci Code, but not as clever...





... which is definitely saying something.





Anyway, the point is that the book is just a little bit rubbish. It's a trashy good read at best, a mind-numbing waste of paper at worst. My own opinion on the novel is somewhere in the mid-range of these extremes, which is why I approached the recently released film adaptation with a healthy amount of skepticism.


My expectations were that basically the film would be sexy, glamourous, big-budget slick, have a seat-wetting effect on teenage girls, and be pretty much soulless (excuse the pun), but it turned out that I was not completely right - there were things I expected and things that (pleasantly) surprised me.


The production values came as no surprise - everything was very smooth, everyone was very young and beautiful, and some of the aerial shots screamed "look at our big budget!" I was really impressed by the special effects for the exact opposite reason to the one you'd expect: there was something really wonderfully understated by the way the vampires' supernatural powers, especially their fast movement and diamond-like skin glittering, were rendered.


I appreciated this because of the way the rest of the film was presented visually.


Let me eat my hat for a moment and admit that the film was beautiful. It was slightly over-exposed and grainy, and the colours were filtered in high-contrast to emphasise pale skin tones and dark hair, making it perfectly moody and gothic. I cannot emphasise enough how aesthetically pleased I was by the film, even before you add the cast of superhumanly beautiful young people.



And my, how beautiful they were. Honourable mentions go to Bella, played by Kristen Stewart, Alice, played by Ashley Greene, and the two fathers of the story, Charlie and Carlisle, played by Billy Burke and Peter Facinelli. Both of them were just a bit gorgeous for old men.



But anyway, past the supermodel casting, there was some value to the film. It definitely caters to the tween audience for whom the book, with its simplistic, prosaic style, is written, however it is clear to me that Meyer's story is only improved by the shift in medium. The change from reading to seeing suits the narrative perfectly, as it allows us to appreciate the romance and action without having to deal with Bella's endlessly simpering eternal monologue that narrates the novel.



Let me before I conclude sing the praises of lead actress Kristen Stewart - she is simply, naturally beautiful, writes and performs her own music, and most of all gives Bella a voice and presence that turned the Twilight adaptation from fucking ridiculous to decent in my mind. I really enjoyed her performance and I'm very much looking forward to seeing what she does in the future, within and without the Twilight saga. But mainly without, if I'm honest...



Twilight is a very entertaining film, and its art direction is worth commenting on. It plays, expectantly, to its intended teenage girl demographic, and as such is no tower of artistic integrity, but I'm sure that will come as no great surprise.

Much of the praise I have for the film is only in comparison to the novel, but I do truly think that the story works better as a film, and if you're into very beautiful people and very beautiful cinematography, it is very worth seeing.

Modern Romance

A few days ago I had the immense pleasure of seeing the X-Files: I Want to Believe, a film I have been waiting for with bated breath since I first discovered the television series in 2006.
I, however, have not been waiting half as long as the older X-Files fans, people who saw the series to its conclusion in 2002. The film was originally set to be released in 2003, but there was, alas, a huge amount of pre-production drama that slowed the process down exponentially. When I gave up on ever seeing any new X-Files sometime last year, the fandom still hadn't heard a word on the film.
Then, sometime in the last couple of months, I was at the cinema, minding my own business in the queue, when one of those electronic poster's flicked over to a huge image of a very recognisable man and woman standing over an even more recognisable symbol: an 'X' inside a circle.
I almost fell over.
I certainly made the visit very embarrassing for myself and for the friends I was seeing a film with that night. I admit there was a fair bit of jumping around and squealing - I can't imagine the reactions of those who had been waiting another 3 years - needless to say that when I finally got into the cinema on Saturday to actually see the thing, I was positively bouncing in my seat.
Now anyone reading this right now is probably thinking that I am a) a massive nerd b) a complete nutter and/or c) completely alone in life. Only a) is really true, but let me explain why X-Files is such a cult classic:
At the risk of sounding b) and c), let me tell anyone who thinks X-Files is just a bizzare 90's sci-fi program that it is much more than that. The plot is intricate to the point of needing a reference book to watch episodes, the production team were largely (the same people) committed to the program for the entire 9 years, giving it a sense of consistency throughout its major plot arc - no mean feat - but mostly it is because of its leading pair.
People aren't still thinking about X-Files because of the government conspiracies, not because this plot remained infuriatingly unresolved in the conclusion of the series, but because of the intense relationship between Mulder and Scully, stars David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson.
The relationship between Mulder and Scully is one of those relationships - unresolved romantic tension underlies every episode - and it is at the core of the show's success, according to creator Chris Carter.
I don't know what it is, but there is something about those characters and that relationship that is riveting. Such a romance doesn't come with every book, television show, or film that is released. Some try and fail - one recalls the sexual tension that forgot to happen in the recent Spiderman films, or in fact anything Ben Stiller has ever done - but it can be achieved, more often than not by a smaller, less commercial venture.
Who can forget Juno and the father of her child in his especially gold shorts? Or - if you're one of the rare few English speaking people who has seen it - the two leading men of Y Tu Mama Tambien?
I myself have a slightly unnatural focus on reading into things that probably aren't there, having a great love for the relationship unexplored between Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, which caused my dear teacher Emma Argall to become more and more exasperated with me throughout the course of last year.
Mulder and Scully really are the prime example of the all-consuming romance, and have kept fans going with their unresolved tension not only for the 9 years the show ran, but another 6 between then and now.
To me, that proves, in a quirky modern way, that romance is still alive in the modern consciousness. The trick, I think, is to apply the spark and swooning of the fictional romance to our own relationships, to find the magic and tension in a situation that doesn't benefit from the dramatic elements of government conspiracy and alien invasion.