Reviewed by Michael Dalton

The fact that the two characters in Weekend are men is of little relevance. This warm new drama directed by Andrew Haigh, about a one-night stand that blossoms into much more, has its gay sensibilities but the situations and discussions that arise apply to all those who play the singles game. Haigh has more on his mind than studying the cinematic taboos regarding the intimacies two men can share. Like Frankie and Johnny, a film it seems to take its cue from, Weekend follows two people taking those first tender steps towards a commitment they are hesitant to embrace.

Reviewed by Michael Dalton

When was the last time we saw a film about a famous historical figure where we first meet him or her in their youth and then follow through to old age? Do the narratives start in their twilight years so we can instantly marvel at how the performer looks under a mountain of latex? It was one of the many mistakes in Phyllida Lloyd’s The Iron lady and now Clint Eastwood has pulled the same stunt with J. Edgar. I use the word stunt for that’s how the whole film feels. Aside from the chopping and changing of timeframes (which leads to a grand mess in the structure), the makeup, which seems to be where most of the attention was paid, overwhelms from the first shot of Leonardo DiCaprio seated behind his desk. Bull-headed and phony, the look is naturally confronting but DiCaprio, hellbent on delivering an iconic performance, only finds the derivative notes. Try as he might, he never catches on.

Reviewed by Peta Johansen

CAITLIN Moran’s How To Be A Woman is a revelation. It was the book I’ve never known I needed since I reached puberty.

How feminism hadn’t been made this accessible until now is a right shame. This should be compulsory reading for high-school students. Teen girls should ditch their Dolly magazines, fetch a copy of this book, stand on their chairs and shout – as Moran instructs – I AM A FEMINIST.

Review by Camille McLachlan 

 

2011 was a big year for crime slash romance novelist Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum. Usually releasing a new title annually, last year Evanovich pumped out two Plum novels, the most recent being Explosive Eighteen. It’s not too surprising that Evanovich has achieved this feat, as anyone who has followed the series since its inception will know that the author has followed a somewhat repetitive formula for the series for quite some time now. Explosive Eighteen is no exception here - Stephanie Plum is still working as a bounty hunter and has her usual collection of skips to bring in, but is hindered repeatedly along the way by countless groups chasing a mysterious photograph that only she has seen. Of course it wouldn’t be a Plum novel without the apparently never ending love triangle between Stephanie, her on-and-off boyfriend Joe Morelli and man of mystery, Ranger. 

Review by Camille McLachlan 

2011 was a big year for crime slash romance novelist Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum. Usually releasing a new title annually, last year Evanovich pumped out two Plum novels, the most recent being Explosive Eighteen. It’s not too surprising that Evanovich has achieved this feat, as anyone who has followed the series since its inception will know that the author has followed a somewhat repetitive formula for the series for quite sometime now. Explosive Eighteen is no exception - Stephanie Plum is still working as a bounty hunter and has her usual collection of skips to bring in, but is hindered repeatedly along the way by countless groups chasing a mysterious photograph that only she has seen. Of course it wouldn’t be a Plum novel without the apparently never ending love triangle between Stephanie, her on-and-off boyfriend Joe Morelli, and man of mystery Ranger.

Circus Oz steamrolls into Sydney this coming January with their special brand of madness, fooling around in the unconventional and fantastical world of Steampunk.  Steampowered is their latest show, under the Big Top at Tumbalong Park, from 4-29 January, 2012.

In true Circus Oz style, Steampowered presents the beautiful and the absurd, the downright kooky and the breathtakingly brilliant.  Sydneysiders will be wowed with dangerous trapeze, stuntâ€�jumping acrobatics, explosive tumbling, ridiculous juggling, precision hoop diving, unbelievable human pyramids, unlikely in-line skating and even a touch of accidental magic.

Reviewed by Julian Wagner

Electrifyingly abuzz was the Lismore City Hall on Saturday night 3 December 2011 when legendary pianist David Helfgott unleashed his enthralling rendition of Rimsky Korsakov’s The Flight of the Bumblebee as the fourth and final encore. Yet even well before the Bumblebee took flight, Helfgott, a brilliant busy-bee in his own right, had already positively captured his audience.

Reviewed by David Single

Jean-Philippe Toussaint is a writer preoccupied by space.  By space I don't mean the sidereal playground that has been the setting of much science fiction (though, conceivably, it could be that), but space as extension.  His first novel La Salle de Bain, 1985 (appearing in English as Bathroom, 2008) is the story of a man who chose to live in his bathtub; turning away from the world, this man (nameless) sits in his tub doing nothing while his girlfriend and others continue to go about their own business.  La Télévision, 1997 (Television, 2007) again took up the theme of enclosed spaces, but this time through the ubiquity of that eponymous machine.  In renouncing television, the narrator (again, nameless) turns away from his own to find they are everywhere, inescapable, a suffocating electronic surfeit, inducing a sense of claustrophobia.  Space is not invoked only by its lack in Toussaint's work, but also by its abundance.  International travel is something that Toussaint's characters do often, multiple times in each of his books, and through it Toussaint expresses – as he does in the novel under review, The Truth About Marie - one of the principle elements of his work: simultaneity.