Today, I realised that I've been woefully neglectful.
I was planning to write all about my time in London town when I was in Thailand, but I was so behind with my script re-write that was my only focus. Thailand was as gorgeous as ever, but after India it felt empty and rather colourless. Though the Thais are wonderful and the food is extraordinary. I am not complaining, but every place seems to pale in comparison to India.
After a seriously hectic few weeks in London, Thailand was the perfect place to catch our breath. Mum and I had three nights at the Hyatt in Hua Hin. It was divinely quiet and the spa was absolutely blissful. Despite the most heavenly treatments, (how bloody lucky am I?), I was unable to sleep. This does happen a lot to me in the lead up to a transition. My mind simply refuses to shut up. It almost feels like I short circuit, or maybe I re-boot. Whatever the correct technical term is, my brain whirs like a dervish.
It was truly lovely to have some time away from everyone. To not talk, which I do far too much of. Mum and I had some 'quality time' and the General Manager and his gorgeous Aussie wife Jamie, made us feel welcome. A great friend of Hame's, Carly Adler, is old mates with them and went to the trouble of introducing us. We found a corner cafe called, bizarrely McFarlane House (after a previous resident) that made incredible fresh juices and salads that sat almost on the beach. It felt like it was there just for us, until some chain smoking French ladies discovered it!
Mum was keen to go to Chiva Som, but the prices have gone way up since she was last there, so we decided to give the Hyatt a try. CS looked amazing when we walked past it on the beach one evening (dodging the gelatinous jelly fish bodies), but the Hyatt was understated and quiet. We had a great few days in limbo-land.
Mum then flew off to Melbourne and I travelled further south. Via a local recommendation, I found a quiet beach called Khao Kolak which is in the province of Pranburi. It was a beautiful drive there, past fields bursting with pineapples. I felt utterly spoiled and ready to tear into the script.
I allowed myself a plate of fruit for breakie (unbelievably delicious array, some I'd never seen before in my life), one swim and walk per day and then a meal in the evening. The rest of the time I wrote and wrote and wrote. Luckily I was the only guest at the Orchid Guest House, run by a nice Brit called Tim and his lovely Thai wife Nat. Their two little boys rolled around happily and it was quiet enough for me to really concentrate. It was cheap and set back from the beach, which got infiltrated with Bangkokians (no idea if that's right!) at the weekend.
The seafood was seriously fresh and delish. But the best thing - I simply adored not having to speak and being able to shut the door and immerse myself in my writing. It felt like the best sort of retreat. Of my very own. One member only.
I had spent most of my trip thinking about the changes that I wanted to make to the previous draft. I had attempted to write when in London. But I was staying first with Mellie in Miranda's lovely flat in Maida Vale and I was on a (very comfy) pull out bed in her living room. Mel runs Choi Time from there, so it was tricky to find much space. Though I absolutely adored being there with her. I've missed her SO much. She's had a tough year, like so many people in London in particular. For anyone who loves tea, you must go to choitime.com and order some of her incredible tea for Chrissie. Her divine teas make the best presents ever.
Mellie and I did manage to squeeze in some lovely missions. One of them was a special screening of Terry Gilliam's new film THE IMAGINATION OF DR. PARNASSUS, which was incredible. Despite Heath Ledger dying in the middle of filming, they managed to make the film work and it's an amazing achievement. I adored it. I always adore Gilliam, as at his worst he's so far and above most directors. He has a truly unique voice, in a similar vein to Tim Burton, who's another of my faves.
So, London town. It was Spring like my first week there and I had a bit of time to catch up with various friends and their new babies. I met a lot of babies. All absolutely sweet mind you. It's just such a momentous change in people's lives and so all consuming. I understand that you need to go to them, but I was tearing across town at such a rate. Thank you Shiv for making the effort to bring Noah to Jenny's - he's a peach! Luckily I managed to go on some lovely walks in Hyde Park to clear away the cobwebs. I arrived pretty (seriously) broken from NYC.
The rest of my time in London is a bit of a blur, as there were so many family lunches and dinners and get togethers in the lead up to and over the wedding. My first weekend was spent at Pinhills (where Mum's bro Anthony lives on the Bowood estate near Charlie - the Marquis of Lansdowne, an old friend of the family - and his wonderful wife Fiona) with my cousins, which was great fun. We rarely get proper time together, so it was most welcome. Ed and Nina are loving married life and despite the tough year economically, Ed is doing very well in property and Tor is starting her own jewellery business. So brave!
Zoe and I had caught up in New York but it was rather brief, so it was lovely to hear all her news and help her with her book proposal a bit. She's found a top agent who is moulding her TV idea into a book. She's now in LA moving it all forward. She does manage to get around, as she's appearing here next week.
This weekend Ed, Tor and Nina all arrive. I don't remember the last time we had so many of them on Aussie soil. They've got Olivia Milne's wedding up in Myrtleford next weekend.
There's so much else that happened in London but Charlie and Katie's wedding was the focal point and it was pretty magical. I can honestly say that they are wonderfully in love and suited. It was held at the family home in Sandwich, (Kent), which is a beautiful part of England. The marquee was huge and so pretty incorporating parts of their garden. I caught up with SO many relations and met some lovely people. It was well worth the visit. Charlie gave a moving speech and his best man Ed Tollemache had everyone in tears, when he talked about their Mum. Dale was definitely there in spirit. She would have been so proud of her children.
The day after I went to stay with my old friend Maddy Baillieu and it was such fun to hang out with my goddaughter, her first born Charlotte. Her younger daughter Claudia is also very sweet. It's rather gobsmacking that her hubby Harry has managed, amidst such a tricky time, to become a partner at Allen Overy and move them all back to the UK. It's definitely for the best. They've bought a house in Godalming in Surrey and I stayed on their second night there, so boxes were abounding but it has a homey feel to it. I know they'll be happy.
On my return to London I moved North, back to my old hood. I stayed with my gorgeous friend Jenny in Tufnell Park and it was like coming home. Her house on Dalmeny Rd has been the setting for a plethora of great nights and lazy movie/footy watching sessions. I just adored being back there and spending time with her son Jamie and his lady Checky. They are a special pair. A special family.
My final week was a whir of meetings and catch ups. I hardly had time to scratch myself. Then Jenny kindly hosted a farewell soiree at Dalmeny Towers and it was very civilised. A lovely cross section of people I know in London came by and I felt very loved and missed. The weather turned pretty cold and I must admit, knowing that summer was waiting for me in the southern hemisphere made it bearable getting on the plane. Though it was very hard to leave the people I adore there. Luckily so many of them will be visiting Oz in the next year - Bron and Clive are having an Aussie celebration of their wedding, Mel is planning a February visit, Amber in January and the list goes on.....
So here I am, back in Hame's spare room juggling all sorts of random jobs. It's weird, after being so focussed on my career and survival in London for so many years, that I am now able to reconnect with what really matters to me. I found so many people in London were in dark or troubled places, and some in the States. I know it's been a tough year, but that city in particular does drain you and when Winter stretches out in front like a swamp, it's hard to imagine having to knuckle down and see it through. Life is not perfect in Oz, is it anywhere? - but it's healthy and positive and beautiful. I am resolute to give it more time, to see where it leads.
And I need to finish that final act of the script.
Wish me luck.
Lxxxx
Wednesday, 25 November 2009
Saturday, 24 October 2009
BACK IN THE HOOD
Ahhh Brooklyn. I adore New York City and am a late convert to it's outer borough, but I have to say that to fall into the loving arms of my mates there was pure bliss.
The conditions were arctic. I left LA with flash floods and arrived to full blown winter. It was rather depressing after Melbourne's long winter.
Samantha and Suzanne's flat in Carroll Gardens is big, but they have a big dog too. Whitman was rescued by Suzanne when found chained to a fence in Walt Whitman park. He's now a healthy, happy, very vocal member of the clan. He is most protective of both the ladies and barks like crazy when anyone comes near. There are some quite funny anecdotes about suitors who have been scared off the premesis.
So I challenged my gals to go dancing. I am sick of this getting older and not dancing enough malarkey.
For my first night, we had a gorgeous dinner with aforementioned ladies and my old mucker Elizabeth Stewart (who has mutated into a super fabulously coiffed Creative Director) at a local restaurant called Jamie. We were fussed over by super cute waiters in plaid shirts. The food was delicious and we drank bubbles and caught up in style.
I forced Samantha to see FAME with me the next day. I was just laughed at when I suggested that in LA. With good reason. It was pretty crap, but still great fun. The original movie was much better. This caused a lot of singing in the street with various friends throughout the trip, so I guess that was worth it. That night Sammy and I ended up out a bit late.
The next day was Liz's birthday but noone was allowed to say anything, as she has always strenuously avoided celebrating. Strangely we met uptown at a party on the Upper West Side at a lovely girl called Maureen's place for pulled pork, mac & cheese and other deliciousness.
Beforehand I met up with both the Kaplan sisters. Claude and Kristina were so wonderful to me when I was living in NYC and we've managed to stay in touch. Whenever I race through town I now visit their incredible downtown houses and see their beautiful girls. Kristina is now pregnant with number 3 and Claude is contemplating another. Unfortunately Kristina's lawyer husband, Jeremy, is always working too late for me to meet him but I met his lovely Mum this time and Claude's British hubby Michael came back in time for a quick catch up. The Kaplans are a fascinating family and are very close. I was sad to miss seeing their parents and John who is now back in The City and having a baby.
Mein godt! Babies, babies, babies. They are everywhere.
Anyhoo, uptown I went for a civilised session of munchies and wine. Meanwhile, Suzanne had managed to get us on the list at Pacha. A ridiculous super/uber club of gargantuan proportions.
When we tried to leave Mo's party, she insisted that we go with her to a club around the corner. On the Upper West Side. Hmmm. It was hideous. Frat boys and sports filled screens on every wall and chicks dancing on the bar to the worst sort of R&B tunes possible.
We lasted for a bit and then I insisted on Pacha. We met a couple of well oiled guys on the way who dubbed us the "Sex and the Shitty" gals. This stuck for the rest of the trip.
By the time we hit the front of the queue, Liz was pointing out that it was her birthday in no uncertain terms to the bouncer, Suzanne was one big smile and Samantha was ready to dance. We had no idea what was waiting for us inside.
When did straight men start shaving their chests, putting their t-shirts around their shoulders like shrugs and oiling themselves up like beach babes? The place was PACKED and we did lots of dancing. It got messy - it always felt like someone was going missing and we had to race off to find them with all our coats and bags. Finally I got sick of that and just stayed put with all the guys that I sincerely assumed were gay. They were great dancers and lots of fun but after a bit I thought I should go find my girls. But my coat and bag were missing and I had NO idea where they were.
Finally, after much searching I found them in a heap outside and we happily made our way back to Brooklyn. The next day I spent at my gorgeous friend Amy's watching her prepare amazing food for dinner that night. I was no help at all. But despite the late night, I made it by 2pm and it was wonderful to catch some quiet time with her and new new husband Alex. After four long years of Alex commuting to Princeton, they are finally living together and it's clear that they are happy.
All my New York buddies are so special and that night, Amy and Alex hosted the most wonderful dinner party in my and Liz's honour. We ate so well and caught up on so much. It was a gorgeous bunch of people, mostly Americans but my cousin Zoe was in town so she came along and it was perfect. It made me a touch sad that I'm not more a part of their lives.
A group of us met up for a lovely brunch the next day and all of a sudden Sunday night was upon us. I had quite a few people still to see the next day which was very sadly my last. I had a heavenly Japanese feast with my old mate Mark 'The Rabbi' Rabinowitz for lunch, who has moved out to East Hampton and came in specially. I then visited the Washington Square Park apartment of an Aussie editor called Kate and her lovely family. Her mother is one of my Mum's great friends, so it was lovely to connect with her again.
Then I spent the evening crossing paths with more lovely friends and the night went on much longer than anticipated. I managed to pack and get in a taxi at 6am by the skin of my teeth and felt a heavy heart as I boarded the plane and left my favourite city. Sigh!
But what a welcome I was given in London this week. I'm currently staying with my friend Mel in Maida Vale and she is spoiling me rotten. We've been catching up on everything and it's divine. We went to a screening of Terry Gilliam's new film THE IMAGINATION OF DR PARNASSUS and it was incredible. I've always been a huge fan of Gilliam's films, but this had such expectation as Heath Ledger's final film and the fact that Colin Farrel, Johnny Depp and Jude Law all stepped in to finish the film after he died. The film is magnificent, a true feat of courage and conviction.
I was so sideways from all the flying and carrying bags and fun I've been having that I took some time and went to the Porchester Spa. Magical Moira scrubbed and massaged me to within an inch of my life and I left feeling a gazillion bucks. She told me incredible stories about her life and her partner's and I had the most wonderful afternoon possible. I love a good sweat to rejuvenate the soul.
That night was my welcome back drinks, all organised by Mellie. The most gorgeous faces showed up and I felt once again welcomed back to the fold. London town. I left in such a whirlwind and was so exhaustepated that I was a shadow of my former self. How lovely to be here as a tourist. Walking around Hyde Park, eating at Frescos, dealing with the public transport, everything feels so different.
Now I'm in Wiltshire with my cousins whom I adore. Zoe, Tor and I drove down together, while Ed and Nina followed an hour behind. Then today Tor's new man Karim caught a train down - he's lovely! We've been planning this catch up weekend for months and I'm currently sitting in the most comfortable bed known to man. I had a monster sleep last night, one to rival all previous sleeps. I was just so shattered and happy to be here. Charlie's wedding is going to be very special. It's on Halloween and he is marrying a beautiful doctor called Katie. Mum has just arrived in town and it's all hotting up for next weekend. I look forward to all the family missions ahead. I just hope I can find the time to do everything else I need to do in London.
This weekend to recharge our batteries is much needed. We just ate a massive dinner at a pub nearby and I think I must melt into the bed covers. I hope the sun is shining again tomorrow. I've had more sunshine since arriving in the UK than I had the whole time in the US. Go figure!
The conditions were arctic. I left LA with flash floods and arrived to full blown winter. It was rather depressing after Melbourne's long winter.
Samantha and Suzanne's flat in Carroll Gardens is big, but they have a big dog too. Whitman was rescued by Suzanne when found chained to a fence in Walt Whitman park. He's now a healthy, happy, very vocal member of the clan. He is most protective of both the ladies and barks like crazy when anyone comes near. There are some quite funny anecdotes about suitors who have been scared off the premesis.
So I challenged my gals to go dancing. I am sick of this getting older and not dancing enough malarkey.
For my first night, we had a gorgeous dinner with aforementioned ladies and my old mucker Elizabeth Stewart (who has mutated into a super fabulously coiffed Creative Director) at a local restaurant called Jamie. We were fussed over by super cute waiters in plaid shirts. The food was delicious and we drank bubbles and caught up in style.
I forced Samantha to see FAME with me the next day. I was just laughed at when I suggested that in LA. With good reason. It was pretty crap, but still great fun. The original movie was much better. This caused a lot of singing in the street with various friends throughout the trip, so I guess that was worth it. That night Sammy and I ended up out a bit late.
The next day was Liz's birthday but noone was allowed to say anything, as she has always strenuously avoided celebrating. Strangely we met uptown at a party on the Upper West Side at a lovely girl called Maureen's place for pulled pork, mac & cheese and other deliciousness.
Beforehand I met up with both the Kaplan sisters. Claude and Kristina were so wonderful to me when I was living in NYC and we've managed to stay in touch. Whenever I race through town I now visit their incredible downtown houses and see their beautiful girls. Kristina is now pregnant with number 3 and Claude is contemplating another. Unfortunately Kristina's lawyer husband, Jeremy, is always working too late for me to meet him but I met his lovely Mum this time and Claude's British hubby Michael came back in time for a quick catch up. The Kaplans are a fascinating family and are very close. I was sad to miss seeing their parents and John who is now back in The City and having a baby.
Mein godt! Babies, babies, babies. They are everywhere.
Anyhoo, uptown I went for a civilised session of munchies and wine. Meanwhile, Suzanne had managed to get us on the list at Pacha. A ridiculous super/uber club of gargantuan proportions.
When we tried to leave Mo's party, she insisted that we go with her to a club around the corner. On the Upper West Side. Hmmm. It was hideous. Frat boys and sports filled screens on every wall and chicks dancing on the bar to the worst sort of R&B tunes possible.
We lasted for a bit and then I insisted on Pacha. We met a couple of well oiled guys on the way who dubbed us the "Sex and the Shitty" gals. This stuck for the rest of the trip.
By the time we hit the front of the queue, Liz was pointing out that it was her birthday in no uncertain terms to the bouncer, Suzanne was one big smile and Samantha was ready to dance. We had no idea what was waiting for us inside.
When did straight men start shaving their chests, putting their t-shirts around their shoulders like shrugs and oiling themselves up like beach babes? The place was PACKED and we did lots of dancing. It got messy - it always felt like someone was going missing and we had to race off to find them with all our coats and bags. Finally I got sick of that and just stayed put with all the guys that I sincerely assumed were gay. They were great dancers and lots of fun but after a bit I thought I should go find my girls. But my coat and bag were missing and I had NO idea where they were.
Finally, after much searching I found them in a heap outside and we happily made our way back to Brooklyn. The next day I spent at my gorgeous friend Amy's watching her prepare amazing food for dinner that night. I was no help at all. But despite the late night, I made it by 2pm and it was wonderful to catch some quiet time with her and new new husband Alex. After four long years of Alex commuting to Princeton, they are finally living together and it's clear that they are happy.
All my New York buddies are so special and that night, Amy and Alex hosted the most wonderful dinner party in my and Liz's honour. We ate so well and caught up on so much. It was a gorgeous bunch of people, mostly Americans but my cousin Zoe was in town so she came along and it was perfect. It made me a touch sad that I'm not more a part of their lives.
A group of us met up for a lovely brunch the next day and all of a sudden Sunday night was upon us. I had quite a few people still to see the next day which was very sadly my last. I had a heavenly Japanese feast with my old mate Mark 'The Rabbi' Rabinowitz for lunch, who has moved out to East Hampton and came in specially. I then visited the Washington Square Park apartment of an Aussie editor called Kate and her lovely family. Her mother is one of my Mum's great friends, so it was lovely to connect with her again.
Then I spent the evening crossing paths with more lovely friends and the night went on much longer than anticipated. I managed to pack and get in a taxi at 6am by the skin of my teeth and felt a heavy heart as I boarded the plane and left my favourite city. Sigh!
But what a welcome I was given in London this week. I'm currently staying with my friend Mel in Maida Vale and she is spoiling me rotten. We've been catching up on everything and it's divine. We went to a screening of Terry Gilliam's new film THE IMAGINATION OF DR PARNASSUS and it was incredible. I've always been a huge fan of Gilliam's films, but this had such expectation as Heath Ledger's final film and the fact that Colin Farrel, Johnny Depp and Jude Law all stepped in to finish the film after he died. The film is magnificent, a true feat of courage and conviction.
I was so sideways from all the flying and carrying bags and fun I've been having that I took some time and went to the Porchester Spa. Magical Moira scrubbed and massaged me to within an inch of my life and I left feeling a gazillion bucks. She told me incredible stories about her life and her partner's and I had the most wonderful afternoon possible. I love a good sweat to rejuvenate the soul.
That night was my welcome back drinks, all organised by Mellie. The most gorgeous faces showed up and I felt once again welcomed back to the fold. London town. I left in such a whirlwind and was so exhaustepated that I was a shadow of my former self. How lovely to be here as a tourist. Walking around Hyde Park, eating at Frescos, dealing with the public transport, everything feels so different.
Now I'm in Wiltshire with my cousins whom I adore. Zoe, Tor and I drove down together, while Ed and Nina followed an hour behind. Then today Tor's new man Karim caught a train down - he's lovely! We've been planning this catch up weekend for months and I'm currently sitting in the most comfortable bed known to man. I had a monster sleep last night, one to rival all previous sleeps. I was just so shattered and happy to be here. Charlie's wedding is going to be very special. It's on Halloween and he is marrying a beautiful doctor called Katie. Mum has just arrived in town and it's all hotting up for next weekend. I look forward to all the family missions ahead. I just hope I can find the time to do everything else I need to do in London.
This weekend to recharge our batteries is much needed. We just ate a massive dinner at a pub nearby and I think I must melt into the bed covers. I hope the sun is shining again tomorrow. I've had more sunshine since arriving in the UK than I had the whole time in the US. Go figure!
Monday, 12 October 2009
LA-LA LAND
It is cheesy and vacuum packed, but I really love LA. There are some truly wonderful people here and I always have such a blast with them. It's always the people that enrich one's life and I am wealthy beyond my wildest dreams in that regard.
I'm staying with a seriously kind friend in West Hollywood called Andre Fabrizio, (or as The Mullighan, our mutual friend, calls his old mate, Fabs) an Italian-Aussie whose been living here for over a decade and has finally got his green card (in the mail the day before yesterday). He lives in a great building tucked behind Hollywood Blvd, with lovely neighbours and a swimming pool!!! I've been in it every single day washing off the Melbourne winter and feeling less like a pudgy white worm with each swim.
Fabs is a screenwriter who has finally been able to give up his day job producing movie trailers to write full time. He's in the midst of projects for studios and big directors and is doing well. I'm rather nervous, as he's currently reading my script and we've got a business lunch on the morrow where I'll get his advice. We're going to my fave Japanese restaurant - Iroha - where the spicy tuna tartare on rice cakes is to die for.
To go back a bit, I was so overtired (as usual) I hardly slept a wink on the flight. I watched so many movies and started off laughing happily at comedies (THE PROPOSAL) and ended up blubbing my heart out to Aussie films (finally got to see BEAUTIFUL KATE and BLESSED - both are tough but brilliant flicks - and the end to AUSTRALIA). I hardly ate and this time avoided alcohol, as I knew the drive would freak me out at the other end. Getting straight off the plane into a hire car is a truly surreal experience, it feels like you're in a video game.
I abhor driving in LA. The highways terrify me as people seem to switch lanes without warning and I always feel like I'm lucky to make it to my destination alive. I was proud to make it to Fabs' abode in one piece. After a rest and swim I took to the streets and ended up on Hollywood Blvd where I mingled with the Michael Jackson impersonators and inexplicably, loads of Jack Sparrows pirates.
I pounded the pavements for quite a while doing various errands and by the time I got back, I was shattered. I had a monster sleep and was off again the next day with missions before meeting my old boss Simon Kelton and some of his friends for a drink and going to see the doc ANVIL at a BAFTA screening. The film is a mixture between THIS IS SPINAL TAP and STILL CRAZY - a good combination and a tale about a Canadian heavy metal group who never quite made it, despite influencing some of the best metal bands who went on to make fortunes. They are still giving it their all in their fifties.
The Director, a Brit called Sacha Gervasi (friend of Simon's) directed the film and the crowd just loved it. We had a bit of a natter afterwards and my favourite story is that his cameraman thought the guys were actors and on the second day of the shoot, he took Sacha aside and said "Come on, you've got to tell me. They're actors right?". He thought it really was Spinal Tap. Classic.
Afterwards I had a frolic with some old girlfriends and a lovely mate of theirs (Patrick). Nickers and Jodi were in fine form and we had a ball catching up. Jodi even gave me the keys to her flat in Mulberry St in NYC for me to use when I'm there next week. Bless her! People are so incredibly kind. Though I'll be staying with Samantha and Suzanne in Brooklyn, as I'd get in so much trouble if I didn't, it will be great to have somewhere to bolt to if I need to when I'm in Manhattan.
Saturday was a day of lovely sun filled missions in Silverlake. I had to ask directions to a cafe and realised half way through that I was asking Shirley Manson from Garbage the way to Stella!!
At brunch, it turned out that Patrick used to work for an old producer friend of mine from New York, so I'm hoping to catch up with him. I had been wondering how to reconnect with him. Such a tiny, wee world.
Time just slips away so quickly. I can't believe I only have 2 more days here.
I took Fabs out with me last night to the awards night for my cousin Andrew Bossom's polo club, which he's President of. We had a drink at he and his delicious wife Amza's incredible mansion in Glendale, Bette Davis' old house. I had such fun hanging out with their two little boys - Bayne and Piers. Soooo cute. I met some of their horses and chased after them as they ran wild and happily around the property with dogs yapping at their heels.
Dinner was at a true blue Italian restaurant and it was a delicious meal with lots of colourful characters. The awards were fun and Andrew gave a running commentary, while a lady did a good job of keeping things on track. It was raucous and great fun. I had a very unexpected proposal from a gay guy at a neighbouring table and ate far too many profiteroles.
Afterwards we went to a bar where a friend of Fabs' was having a party. I hadn't had any Mexican food (which I adore) so decided to get a burrito while Fabs found his friends. Bad decision. We checked out another sleazy bar around the corner which was hilarious, but decided it was time to head out and I loved watching CHILDREN OF MEN when we got home. Such a good film. Though I'm told the book is better.
Despite my hatred of driving here, I managed to make it to Santa Barbara today. I'm spending the night with the Keltons as Simon and Heather kindly invited me to join them for dinner. Simon and I had a big session talking about my script and he had a lot of suggestions about how to improve it and make it commercial. It will mean a lot of changes, but if I can pull off a great next draft then we could be onto something.
I'm shattered now. We had a lovely dinner and Jasper, their 2 year old boy, is the most divine creature in the whole world. He is a real peach. Heather has been going through a tough time following the death of her beloved Mum, so it was really nice to have a proper catch up. They are so happy out here. She works for some big Hollywood players, who are local and Jasper adores it too. I'm looking forward to taking a walk in the morning. The coastline was amazing on the drive up here but it got dark almost as I arrived.
Really wish I could keep on driving to San Francisco, where one of my great mates lives but hey ho. You can't do everything at once. But you can try.
Must get some sleep as the next two days will be jam packed.
Wish me luck.
Lxxx
I'm staying with a seriously kind friend in West Hollywood called Andre Fabrizio, (or as The Mullighan, our mutual friend, calls his old mate, Fabs) an Italian-Aussie whose been living here for over a decade and has finally got his green card (in the mail the day before yesterday). He lives in a great building tucked behind Hollywood Blvd, with lovely neighbours and a swimming pool!!! I've been in it every single day washing off the Melbourne winter and feeling less like a pudgy white worm with each swim.
Fabs is a screenwriter who has finally been able to give up his day job producing movie trailers to write full time. He's in the midst of projects for studios and big directors and is doing well. I'm rather nervous, as he's currently reading my script and we've got a business lunch on the morrow where I'll get his advice. We're going to my fave Japanese restaurant - Iroha - where the spicy tuna tartare on rice cakes is to die for.
To go back a bit, I was so overtired (as usual) I hardly slept a wink on the flight. I watched so many movies and started off laughing happily at comedies (THE PROPOSAL) and ended up blubbing my heart out to Aussie films (finally got to see BEAUTIFUL KATE and BLESSED - both are tough but brilliant flicks - and the end to AUSTRALIA). I hardly ate and this time avoided alcohol, as I knew the drive would freak me out at the other end. Getting straight off the plane into a hire car is a truly surreal experience, it feels like you're in a video game.
I abhor driving in LA. The highways terrify me as people seem to switch lanes without warning and I always feel like I'm lucky to make it to my destination alive. I was proud to make it to Fabs' abode in one piece. After a rest and swim I took to the streets and ended up on Hollywood Blvd where I mingled with the Michael Jackson impersonators and inexplicably, loads of Jack Sparrows pirates.
I pounded the pavements for quite a while doing various errands and by the time I got back, I was shattered. I had a monster sleep and was off again the next day with missions before meeting my old boss Simon Kelton and some of his friends for a drink and going to see the doc ANVIL at a BAFTA screening. The film is a mixture between THIS IS SPINAL TAP and STILL CRAZY - a good combination and a tale about a Canadian heavy metal group who never quite made it, despite influencing some of the best metal bands who went on to make fortunes. They are still giving it their all in their fifties.
The Director, a Brit called Sacha Gervasi (friend of Simon's) directed the film and the crowd just loved it. We had a bit of a natter afterwards and my favourite story is that his cameraman thought the guys were actors and on the second day of the shoot, he took Sacha aside and said "Come on, you've got to tell me. They're actors right?". He thought it really was Spinal Tap. Classic.
Afterwards I had a frolic with some old girlfriends and a lovely mate of theirs (Patrick). Nickers and Jodi were in fine form and we had a ball catching up. Jodi even gave me the keys to her flat in Mulberry St in NYC for me to use when I'm there next week. Bless her! People are so incredibly kind. Though I'll be staying with Samantha and Suzanne in Brooklyn, as I'd get in so much trouble if I didn't, it will be great to have somewhere to bolt to if I need to when I'm in Manhattan.
Saturday was a day of lovely sun filled missions in Silverlake. I had to ask directions to a cafe and realised half way through that I was asking Shirley Manson from Garbage the way to Stella!!
At brunch, it turned out that Patrick used to work for an old producer friend of mine from New York, so I'm hoping to catch up with him. I had been wondering how to reconnect with him. Such a tiny, wee world.
Time just slips away so quickly. I can't believe I only have 2 more days here.
I took Fabs out with me last night to the awards night for my cousin Andrew Bossom's polo club, which he's President of. We had a drink at he and his delicious wife Amza's incredible mansion in Glendale, Bette Davis' old house. I had such fun hanging out with their two little boys - Bayne and Piers. Soooo cute. I met some of their horses and chased after them as they ran wild and happily around the property with dogs yapping at their heels.
Dinner was at a true blue Italian restaurant and it was a delicious meal with lots of colourful characters. The awards were fun and Andrew gave a running commentary, while a lady did a good job of keeping things on track. It was raucous and great fun. I had a very unexpected proposal from a gay guy at a neighbouring table and ate far too many profiteroles.
Afterwards we went to a bar where a friend of Fabs' was having a party. I hadn't had any Mexican food (which I adore) so decided to get a burrito while Fabs found his friends. Bad decision. We checked out another sleazy bar around the corner which was hilarious, but decided it was time to head out and I loved watching CHILDREN OF MEN when we got home. Such a good film. Though I'm told the book is better.
Despite my hatred of driving here, I managed to make it to Santa Barbara today. I'm spending the night with the Keltons as Simon and Heather kindly invited me to join them for dinner. Simon and I had a big session talking about my script and he had a lot of suggestions about how to improve it and make it commercial. It will mean a lot of changes, but if I can pull off a great next draft then we could be onto something.
I'm shattered now. We had a lovely dinner and Jasper, their 2 year old boy, is the most divine creature in the whole world. He is a real peach. Heather has been going through a tough time following the death of her beloved Mum, so it was really nice to have a proper catch up. They are so happy out here. She works for some big Hollywood players, who are local and Jasper adores it too. I'm looking forward to taking a walk in the morning. The coastline was amazing on the drive up here but it got dark almost as I arrived.
Really wish I could keep on driving to San Francisco, where one of my great mates lives but hey ho. You can't do everything at once. But you can try.
Must get some sleep as the next two days will be jam packed.
Wish me luck.
Lxxx
Monday, 5 October 2009
DALI RAVE ENTICES ALL
Bloody brilliant.
After a week of battling a lurking lurgie, following a rather large Grand Final weekend, (by the way, Geelong were triumphant and it was deliciously hard won - a proper wet, dirty rough and tumble), I have been struggling to prepare for my trip. I had a gazillion emails to send and so much to sort that I think I just shut down.
By the time Friday rolled around, I was looking forward to getting the hell out of the house and helping Amanda at her new store on Gertrude St in Fitzroy. She is the most brilliant designer (http://www.leonardstreet.com.au) and old school friend. She is seriously preggers and has taken on too much - opening two new stores at once - so I've been helping her out when possible.
Living South, I don't get North as much as I'd like and I have to say, there are some serious crazies up there but mostly the people are divine. And the shops (and food) are unbelievable. It's danger zone for me. Big time. I bought the most ridiculously divine 80s jump suit on Friday, luckily Amanda gave me her blessing (kind of) and I can't wait to rock around LA and NYC in it. Think it might be a little too chilly in London town.
At the end of the day, Mum arrived and whipped me off to the most amazing contemporary jewellery store called Ingot where they were having a do. We drank bubbles and shopped and it was a feast for the eyes. She bought me the funkiest black leather necklace to go with my new Leona Edminston frock (cherries and spots galore) for my cuz Charlie's wedding on Halloween (back in Blighty) to the gorgeous Katie. Divine.
I booked us into a restaurant that I'd heard so much about. The Panama Dining Room is top floor above a dance school on Smith St in Collingwood (hear the crowd roar!). We had a gorgeous dinner of deliciousness. The view was great, the food delish and the company perfect. We had some great chats. The sort of chats it's hard to have when you're living half a world away and each meeting has too much expectation.
Without going on about the life style and how lovely people are back in Oz, there's no doubt that the best thing is spending time with my family here.
That said, I can't wait to get on that aeorplane in a few short days. I love to be in motion.
Back to Saturday. In one word, it was a monster. I worked at the gallery (Mossgreen) where I've loved helping out in the last few months. They run a fascinating operation there and with Sotheby's now selling out here (to a far from reputable man) they're in a great possie. I've just spent the day packing boxes of a fascinating collector's estate in Kew with the owners Paul and Amanda who are good people. They work incredibly hard and deal in a wide variety of artifacts.
So after finishing at the gallery, I went over to my lovely friend Stellar's place. Strangely she lives on the same street I grew up on and where my junior school is, even in the same block of flats where Hamish and I lived when we first left school. It's always a strange mix of emotions when I walk up the street under the plane trees, it feels rather like time is standing still.
I spent a few fun hours at Stell's where she and her little sis Clea were having a back to back session of 'Bold & The Beautiful'. It was yet another flash back as most of the old characters are still on the show and 20 years later (we used to wag school to watch it back in the day) it's kinda scary to watch but bloody funny.
I made my way to The Supper Club where I've been exploring Melbourne's night life scene since my return. And meeting new people who actually like to go out (as opposed to most of my friends back here due to the serious child factor) where I worked the door. It was a full moon and daylight savings hit after midnight. And something was in the air.
I had heard that the Dali exhibition at the National gallery was trialing a new idea - staying open for 24 hours on it's last day. People poured through the door at Supper Club and kept on coming. It was nuts. There were rumours of the queue at Dali going back over the bridge to Flinders St (quite a way) and being four people deep. Parklife festival was pouring happy punters out straight to Dali, so when people at work started talking about going, I was in. Like Flynn.
I was finally knocked off after 5am and the drinks were on. It was a fabulous final night, everyone stuck around and I drank an incredible cocktail called The Botanical (thanks Nick). Eventually, a small gang of us wandered down to the gallery. The dawn had arrived and we ambled through the quiet city with bottles clinking in our bags and arms linked. We arrived at the gallery around 7am to find no queue but loads of people.
What followed was the most blissful night/morning. I had already been to the exhibition twice and Tara, our hostess with the mostest, whose right ankle is tattooed in fabulous Dali, had been three times. For the boys (Josh and Louis) it was mostly their first time, though Alex had been before. Inside there was the normal slow moving line of people going from one painting to the next, but we ran around in between jumping to what took our fancy - pure bliss. We watched my favourite part of the exhibition, 'Destino' (the cartoon Dali made with Disney but was never released) twice in a row and I could have watched it three more times at least but we wandered on to be mesmerised by a wide variety of Dali's intense visions. It was such a heady mix. The crowd was of all ages and pretty soon, those of us who had been up all night were drawn to each other. Those who were clearly just up were yawning differently to us, and everyone was having a bit of a giggle at each other.
We ended the trip by climbing up a tree opposite the gallery and watching the world go by. Then we made it on to Vic Markets, where we enjoyed making our way through the most delectable wares and munched on some. Finally, back at Josh's place we sat on his roof and as he and Tara finally wilted, I ventured out into the stark day and ran a bunch of errands with my sunnies firmly placed on my nose.
Melting into bed at midday was the most blissful feeling in the world. Now I've got a pile of things to sort before I get on that plane in a few short days, so forgive me....
More from the road.
Lxxx
After a week of battling a lurking lurgie, following a rather large Grand Final weekend, (by the way, Geelong were triumphant and it was deliciously hard won - a proper wet, dirty rough and tumble), I have been struggling to prepare for my trip. I had a gazillion emails to send and so much to sort that I think I just shut down.
By the time Friday rolled around, I was looking forward to getting the hell out of the house and helping Amanda at her new store on Gertrude St in Fitzroy. She is the most brilliant designer (http://www.leonardstreet.com.au) and old school friend. She is seriously preggers and has taken on too much - opening two new stores at once - so I've been helping her out when possible.
Living South, I don't get North as much as I'd like and I have to say, there are some serious crazies up there but mostly the people are divine. And the shops (and food) are unbelievable. It's danger zone for me. Big time. I bought the most ridiculously divine 80s jump suit on Friday, luckily Amanda gave me her blessing (kind of) and I can't wait to rock around LA and NYC in it. Think it might be a little too chilly in London town.
At the end of the day, Mum arrived and whipped me off to the most amazing contemporary jewellery store called Ingot where they were having a do. We drank bubbles and shopped and it was a feast for the eyes. She bought me the funkiest black leather necklace to go with my new Leona Edminston frock (cherries and spots galore) for my cuz Charlie's wedding on Halloween (back in Blighty) to the gorgeous Katie. Divine.
I booked us into a restaurant that I'd heard so much about. The Panama Dining Room is top floor above a dance school on Smith St in Collingwood (hear the crowd roar!). We had a gorgeous dinner of deliciousness. The view was great, the food delish and the company perfect. We had some great chats. The sort of chats it's hard to have when you're living half a world away and each meeting has too much expectation.
Without going on about the life style and how lovely people are back in Oz, there's no doubt that the best thing is spending time with my family here.
That said, I can't wait to get on that aeorplane in a few short days. I love to be in motion.
Back to Saturday. In one word, it was a monster. I worked at the gallery (Mossgreen) where I've loved helping out in the last few months. They run a fascinating operation there and with Sotheby's now selling out here (to a far from reputable man) they're in a great possie. I've just spent the day packing boxes of a fascinating collector's estate in Kew with the owners Paul and Amanda who are good people. They work incredibly hard and deal in a wide variety of artifacts.
So after finishing at the gallery, I went over to my lovely friend Stellar's place. Strangely she lives on the same street I grew up on and where my junior school is, even in the same block of flats where Hamish and I lived when we first left school. It's always a strange mix of emotions when I walk up the street under the plane trees, it feels rather like time is standing still.
I spent a few fun hours at Stell's where she and her little sis Clea were having a back to back session of 'Bold & The Beautiful'. It was yet another flash back as most of the old characters are still on the show and 20 years later (we used to wag school to watch it back in the day) it's kinda scary to watch but bloody funny.
I made my way to The Supper Club where I've been exploring Melbourne's night life scene since my return. And meeting new people who actually like to go out (as opposed to most of my friends back here due to the serious child factor) where I worked the door. It was a full moon and daylight savings hit after midnight. And something was in the air.
I had heard that the Dali exhibition at the National gallery was trialing a new idea - staying open for 24 hours on it's last day. People poured through the door at Supper Club and kept on coming. It was nuts. There were rumours of the queue at Dali going back over the bridge to Flinders St (quite a way) and being four people deep. Parklife festival was pouring happy punters out straight to Dali, so when people at work started talking about going, I was in. Like Flynn.
I was finally knocked off after 5am and the drinks were on. It was a fabulous final night, everyone stuck around and I drank an incredible cocktail called The Botanical (thanks Nick). Eventually, a small gang of us wandered down to the gallery. The dawn had arrived and we ambled through the quiet city with bottles clinking in our bags and arms linked. We arrived at the gallery around 7am to find no queue but loads of people.
What followed was the most blissful night/morning. I had already been to the exhibition twice and Tara, our hostess with the mostest, whose right ankle is tattooed in fabulous Dali, had been three times. For the boys (Josh and Louis) it was mostly their first time, though Alex had been before. Inside there was the normal slow moving line of people going from one painting to the next, but we ran around in between jumping to what took our fancy - pure bliss. We watched my favourite part of the exhibition, 'Destino' (the cartoon Dali made with Disney but was never released) twice in a row and I could have watched it three more times at least but we wandered on to be mesmerised by a wide variety of Dali's intense visions. It was such a heady mix. The crowd was of all ages and pretty soon, those of us who had been up all night were drawn to each other. Those who were clearly just up were yawning differently to us, and everyone was having a bit of a giggle at each other.
We ended the trip by climbing up a tree opposite the gallery and watching the world go by. Then we made it on to Vic Markets, where we enjoyed making our way through the most delectable wares and munched on some. Finally, back at Josh's place we sat on his roof and as he and Tara finally wilted, I ventured out into the stark day and ran a bunch of errands with my sunnies firmly placed on my nose.
Melting into bed at midday was the most blissful feeling in the world. Now I've got a pile of things to sort before I get on that plane in a few short days, so forgive me....
More from the road.
Lxxx
Friday, 25 September 2009
WIN, LOSE OR DRAW - NO DEFECTIONS ALLOWED, EVER
Footy fever reaches its highest pitch on the morrow - The Grand Final (Aussie Rules).
Today there was a parade for Geelong and St. Kilda in the rain - lots of fans turned out despite the inclement conditions. St. Kilda have had a towering season and Geelong kicked Collingwood out of the finals last weekend in scary style - we looked like little boys next to their hairy grit. That said, Gary Ablett doesn't have a hair on his head and quite rightly took the Brownlow medal home on Monday eve.
You might be asking, who the hell cares? A lot of Aussies feel the same, but if you've got the footy bug, Winter (particularly in Melbourne) is much more enjoyable. If your team is winning mind you. Don't even talk about the depression that hits if you lose, particularly if you get pulverised which Collingwood has quite a bit. Though we were always a wild card. All the Macdonalds left the MCG half way through the final quarter last Saturday evening, (and we NEVER leave a game early), as it was quite clear our whipping was causing us all excessive pain.
In the words of my new friend Roachie, who coaches with the Hawks, "You're born into a footy team. Win, lose or draw, you stick with 'em." St. Kilda fans have been loyal since their last flag in 1966. Something tells me they deserve it tomorrow, but it's lucky number 3 Grannies in a row for the Cats - having lost the last two. Both teams will be dogged tomorrow.
Anyway the Grand Final (the Grannie!) will see barbies firing up and eskies filled all over Australia. Beers will be opened from an early hour. Two mighty Victorian teams will awaken to a Clash of the Titans. They have both led the whole season and were undefeated half way through - until they played each other, and St. Kilda just scraped a victory. It will hopefully be a great battle, worthy of them both.
'Nuff said.
I've finally booked all my tickets to head off around the world again - the other way this time. I'm boarding a jet plane in a few short weeks and cannot wait to get back out amongst it. It's been a fabulous return to Oz the past 6 months, but it's time I reconnect having been almost a year since I left London for India. I cannot believe that time has flown by. It's been pretty damn incredible I must say. Bring on Summer though, I forgot that Melbourne winters could be pretty harsh. But thankfully somewhat shortlived.
I say that when it's been pissing down with hideous big, fat rain the past few days mercilessly. It's great for our reservoirs after the droughts, but everyone is antsy for Spring and the racing carnival is just around the corner. Sadly I'll miss all the pastels and hats. Champagne and chicken and avocado sandwiches abound us all I remember of past carnivals.
Gotta run to Hamish's work party - XYZ Studios have a new home in South Melb and we're christening it tonight.
Toodles.
Lxxx
Today there was a parade for Geelong and St. Kilda in the rain - lots of fans turned out despite the inclement conditions. St. Kilda have had a towering season and Geelong kicked Collingwood out of the finals last weekend in scary style - we looked like little boys next to their hairy grit. That said, Gary Ablett doesn't have a hair on his head and quite rightly took the Brownlow medal home on Monday eve.
You might be asking, who the hell cares? A lot of Aussies feel the same, but if you've got the footy bug, Winter (particularly in Melbourne) is much more enjoyable. If your team is winning mind you. Don't even talk about the depression that hits if you lose, particularly if you get pulverised which Collingwood has quite a bit. Though we were always a wild card. All the Macdonalds left the MCG half way through the final quarter last Saturday evening, (and we NEVER leave a game early), as it was quite clear our whipping was causing us all excessive pain.
In the words of my new friend Roachie, who coaches with the Hawks, "You're born into a footy team. Win, lose or draw, you stick with 'em." St. Kilda fans have been loyal since their last flag in 1966. Something tells me they deserve it tomorrow, but it's lucky number 3 Grannies in a row for the Cats - having lost the last two. Both teams will be dogged tomorrow.
Anyway the Grand Final (the Grannie!) will see barbies firing up and eskies filled all over Australia. Beers will be opened from an early hour. Two mighty Victorian teams will awaken to a Clash of the Titans. They have both led the whole season and were undefeated half way through - until they played each other, and St. Kilda just scraped a victory. It will hopefully be a great battle, worthy of them both.
'Nuff said.
I've finally booked all my tickets to head off around the world again - the other way this time. I'm boarding a jet plane in a few short weeks and cannot wait to get back out amongst it. It's been a fabulous return to Oz the past 6 months, but it's time I reconnect having been almost a year since I left London for India. I cannot believe that time has flown by. It's been pretty damn incredible I must say. Bring on Summer though, I forgot that Melbourne winters could be pretty harsh. But thankfully somewhat shortlived.
I say that when it's been pissing down with hideous big, fat rain the past few days mercilessly. It's great for our reservoirs after the droughts, but everyone is antsy for Spring and the racing carnival is just around the corner. Sadly I'll miss all the pastels and hats. Champagne and chicken and avocado sandwiches abound us all I remember of past carnivals.
Gotta run to Hamish's work party - XYZ Studios have a new home in South Melb and we're christening it tonight.
Toodles.
Lxxx
Tuesday, 11 August 2009
DOWNLOAD FROM THE DARK SIDE
I am so angry that my stomach is in knots. Every single time I call any institution in the UK (my bank, HRMC, estate agents.....) I end up in such a rage I hang up the phone on some poor sod. Before I call, I tell myself to keep calm, to be nice and to tell them what they want. Every time a flipping, fucking coconut I end up incandescent with rage. Why is it SO hard to get anything done there? Why can I never give them enough numbers or details or jump through their hoops to get things done?
Australia is not perfect, but customer service and understanding still exists here. Some of the time. What shocked me after I first got back, is how friendly people are. Clearly not everyone, but most people say hello to you and take a minute to ask a question and actually listen to your response. I was freaked out by it at first.
Enough ranting. The film festival was really impressive. It finished on Sunday and my, what a marathon. In fact a lot of the films I saw really blew me away, taking me to places I never expected all over the world. Though why do so many films have to be dark in tone and content? I know life is no picnic, but I longed for a HAPPY GO LUCKY moment in the fest, but ended up with THE BASTARDS. I needed to chug red wine after that one. Sheesh.
My friend Nichole, who I met in India, is living in Melbs (she's moved into a fab house in West Brunswick with a friend from London called Jane) and I suggested she volunteer at the festival. We had such a blast meeting up and going over what we'd seen, often going to films together or showing up at the events that the other was working. It was such fun to share the fest with someone on a regular basis throughout. I'm used to attending festivals all over the world and meeting up with all sorts of colleagues but Melbourne has been very different.
Instead of being in a foreign city, where you're only there for meetings and the festival, I was trying to work and juggle my life here, so it was not my usual festival experience. At first I felt displaced and out of the loop, but quickly I met people and saw films that inspired me. In one day, I went from from Russia (Iranian director) to Korea and the Philippines (Korean director) to Algeria and the Western Sahara (Aussie & Bolivian Co-Directors) and ended up in London thanks to an Argentinean director.
All the films were worthwhile, but the documentary STOLEN which confronted slavery in the refugee camps of Algeria was explosive. In fact, I saw some incredible docs at the fest. The one on Rebiya Kadeer, the Uighar leader, (10 CONDITIONS OF LOVE) that has caused all the uproar was definitely a highlight. Not because it was the best doc I've ever seen, but due to the Chinese kicking up such a fuss, a small little doc became such a sensation - they had to move the screening to the town hall to fit everyone.
Mrs Kadeer has sacrificed so much for her people, (some of her children are in prison simply for being hers), and she spoke beautifully, with such passion before and after the screening. It's sad that 7 Chinese films were pulled from the fest because they refused to cancel this doc. And that the festival site was constantly attacked by hackers, simply for supporting freedom of speech. It makes you realise how incredibly lucky we are to take it for granted as a fact of life. As well as fundamental human rights, which STOLEN explores with its journey in Algeria and Western Sahara.
Irrelevant of how strong one might feel the actual films are, and there are some important failings though they give good viewing, they are both stories by passionate, committed filmmakers who did their utmost in very tricky circumstances to tell stories they felt should be told. It was fascinating to hear the audience at each session (I love a good Q&A) and to see how the filmmakers handled their questions. Being a filmmaker is tough, being a documentary filmmaker is even tougher. There is such little money and you have to fight so hard to get the film completed and then actually just get it out there to audiences.
I ask you how Jeff Daniels, the director of the doc about Rebiya Kadeer's life, managed to hold down a teaching job and spend 7 years of his life on this one piece of film? It's impossible for us mortals to imagine the pressure that's been put on him during this time and since the political explosion that erupted when MIFF programmed his film. The ramifications have been huge. But he's clearly drawn so much inspiration from his subject, that he's had the strength to go on. I salute them all.
I'd love to go into all the feature films that I adored, but two really stick out in my mind (apart from the fantastic Aussie film BALIBO) and those are the Icelandic film THE WHITE WEDDING and the British film UNMADE BEDS. They transported me completely and utterly to their destinations. And I ached for London after seeing the latter. It captured the freedom and eccentricities of that maddening city so well.
ANTICHRIST was an utterly nutty experience, but I have to say that I love Lars Von Trier for his truly unique vision. I can see why Charlotte Gainsbourg got Best Actress in Cannes. Bloody hell. It's all it's cracked up to be in the sadistic, artistic stakes. Gulp!
Now, I'm letting all those movies flow through me and I'm re-writing the feature that I've been working on a lot of this year. Hamish and I have got some industry people interested in reading it so the pressure is on. I've kidnapped Minnie (Hame's dog) and absconded to the coast, where I'm alone at our parent's place (except for Min!) and it's heaven. They're off in the Kimberleys (Western Oz) seeing the astounding Bradshaw rock paintings with their new best friends the Frasers. Gosh life is funny. I just have to laugh out loud sometimes at the absurdity of my existence.
I pray that over the next few days, I can reach deep down inside and find the strength to do this script justice. I am so grateful to all my heavenly mates who keep sending me such encouragement, as I can't tell you how much I need your prayers. I am terrified to finally put this script out there and can't believe that next week it will be in the ether. I saw the most incredible speech on TED's site today thanks to Miranda Barber, who sent me the link. It was by an author of a book I didn't much like, but the way she described the creative process and some fascinating issues surrounding it was really inspiring.
Mellie and Kiko, you made me laugh so much. Thank you.
And Pip your feedback has been invaulable. As always.
More soon. Lxxxxx
Australia is not perfect, but customer service and understanding still exists here. Some of the time. What shocked me after I first got back, is how friendly people are. Clearly not everyone, but most people say hello to you and take a minute to ask a question and actually listen to your response. I was freaked out by it at first.
Enough ranting. The film festival was really impressive. It finished on Sunday and my, what a marathon. In fact a lot of the films I saw really blew me away, taking me to places I never expected all over the world. Though why do so many films have to be dark in tone and content? I know life is no picnic, but I longed for a HAPPY GO LUCKY moment in the fest, but ended up with THE BASTARDS. I needed to chug red wine after that one. Sheesh.
My friend Nichole, who I met in India, is living in Melbs (she's moved into a fab house in West Brunswick with a friend from London called Jane) and I suggested she volunteer at the festival. We had such a blast meeting up and going over what we'd seen, often going to films together or showing up at the events that the other was working. It was such fun to share the fest with someone on a regular basis throughout. I'm used to attending festivals all over the world and meeting up with all sorts of colleagues but Melbourne has been very different.
Instead of being in a foreign city, where you're only there for meetings and the festival, I was trying to work and juggle my life here, so it was not my usual festival experience. At first I felt displaced and out of the loop, but quickly I met people and saw films that inspired me. In one day, I went from from Russia (Iranian director) to Korea and the Philippines (Korean director) to Algeria and the Western Sahara (Aussie & Bolivian Co-Directors) and ended up in London thanks to an Argentinean director.
All the films were worthwhile, but the documentary STOLEN which confronted slavery in the refugee camps of Algeria was explosive. In fact, I saw some incredible docs at the fest. The one on Rebiya Kadeer, the Uighar leader, (10 CONDITIONS OF LOVE) that has caused all the uproar was definitely a highlight. Not because it was the best doc I've ever seen, but due to the Chinese kicking up such a fuss, a small little doc became such a sensation - they had to move the screening to the town hall to fit everyone.
Mrs Kadeer has sacrificed so much for her people, (some of her children are in prison simply for being hers), and she spoke beautifully, with such passion before and after the screening. It's sad that 7 Chinese films were pulled from the fest because they refused to cancel this doc. And that the festival site was constantly attacked by hackers, simply for supporting freedom of speech. It makes you realise how incredibly lucky we are to take it for granted as a fact of life. As well as fundamental human rights, which STOLEN explores with its journey in Algeria and Western Sahara.
Irrelevant of how strong one might feel the actual films are, and there are some important failings though they give good viewing, they are both stories by passionate, committed filmmakers who did their utmost in very tricky circumstances to tell stories they felt should be told. It was fascinating to hear the audience at each session (I love a good Q&A) and to see how the filmmakers handled their questions. Being a filmmaker is tough, being a documentary filmmaker is even tougher. There is such little money and you have to fight so hard to get the film completed and then actually just get it out there to audiences.
I ask you how Jeff Daniels, the director of the doc about Rebiya Kadeer's life, managed to hold down a teaching job and spend 7 years of his life on this one piece of film? It's impossible for us mortals to imagine the pressure that's been put on him during this time and since the political explosion that erupted when MIFF programmed his film. The ramifications have been huge. But he's clearly drawn so much inspiration from his subject, that he's had the strength to go on. I salute them all.
I'd love to go into all the feature films that I adored, but two really stick out in my mind (apart from the fantastic Aussie film BALIBO) and those are the Icelandic film THE WHITE WEDDING and the British film UNMADE BEDS. They transported me completely and utterly to their destinations. And I ached for London after seeing the latter. It captured the freedom and eccentricities of that maddening city so well.
ANTICHRIST was an utterly nutty experience, but I have to say that I love Lars Von Trier for his truly unique vision. I can see why Charlotte Gainsbourg got Best Actress in Cannes. Bloody hell. It's all it's cracked up to be in the sadistic, artistic stakes. Gulp!
Now, I'm letting all those movies flow through me and I'm re-writing the feature that I've been working on a lot of this year. Hamish and I have got some industry people interested in reading it so the pressure is on. I've kidnapped Minnie (Hame's dog) and absconded to the coast, where I'm alone at our parent's place (except for Min!) and it's heaven. They're off in the Kimberleys (Western Oz) seeing the astounding Bradshaw rock paintings with their new best friends the Frasers. Gosh life is funny. I just have to laugh out loud sometimes at the absurdity of my existence.
I pray that over the next few days, I can reach deep down inside and find the strength to do this script justice. I am so grateful to all my heavenly mates who keep sending me such encouragement, as I can't tell you how much I need your prayers. I am terrified to finally put this script out there and can't believe that next week it will be in the ether. I saw the most incredible speech on TED's site today thanks to Miranda Barber, who sent me the link. It was by an author of a book I didn't much like, but the way she described the creative process and some fascinating issues surrounding it was really inspiring.
Mellie and Kiko, you made me laugh so much. Thank you.
And Pip your feedback has been invaulable. As always.
More soon. Lxxxxx
Thursday, 30 July 2009
THE FILM FEST & THE FURY
The Melbourne film fest kicked off at the weekend with an emotional rollercoaster ride like no other. I had heard so much about Robert Connelly's BALIBO, a film about what happened to a group of journalists who got stuck reporting on Indonesia's invasion of Timor Leste. I knew that Jose Ramos Horta - the current President of Timor Leste who was in exile for decades and helped guide the Aussie journalists before fleeing the invasion - would be present. I had read that the families of the Balibo Five would be there too.
With a square red carpet (!) outside the magnificent Hamer Hall (part of the Arts Centre) right by the Yarra River and the city centre, the guests gathered in their finest black tie outfits. The atmosphere was wonderfully buzzy, as with the opening of all film festivals I've attended, but by the end of the screening noone could breathe.
At the climatic scene near the end, when Anthony LaPaglia is battling for his life, the soundtrack goes completely quiet. I have never experienced human howls, not just sobs, like that in a screening in my life. And I've never seen so many people scurry away for a quiet cigarette before the party began.
For those of you who don't know, these events happened in the mid 70s and for so long, governments covered up exactly what happened to these young journos (aged between 21 and 28). With a popoulation of onky 700,000 people, the Indonesian occupation of Timor Leste saw 183,000 people murdered. These five Aussie journos are only a small part of a bloody history, but the fact that their deaths were covered up for so many years made this night a hugely significant one for their families.
Ramos Horta is portrayed in the film by an extraordinary young actor - watch out for Oscar Isaac. Forced into exile, it was a long time before he could return to his country and take the position of President. During those years, he fought tirelessly for justice for Timor Leste and received the Nobel Peace Prize in the mid 90s. Ramos Horta took the stage after the screening and he gave an immensely moving speech about humanity and war. Robert Connelly, the film's very talented and humble director introduced him with a few words and then LaPaglia took to the stage in a mohawk and leather jacket and spoke about his commitment to the film. Without him it wouldn't have happened.
Then all the families and other actors took to the stage. It was a night I'll never forget. And I have my old friend Andrew Barlow to thank. He invited a group of us to join him on this special night. He was an Executive Producer on BALIBO and I'm sure his passion for film and his razor sharp instincts will guide his hand as his film career develops. I was truly honourd to be a part of opening night and I've since swapped the red carpet for a red MIFF t-shirt, as I'm volunteering at the festival.
I'm working a bunch of wild special events that range from a beautiful 3D animated feature called Coraline to the craziest performance art I've ever seen. Last night, at a venue called Ding Dong, I saw acts that I hardly know how to describe. The first was a girl raging against the pop culture machine, she projected images from magazines and television and basically gave them a ticking off. She took the piss, she yelled and she sure had an opinion. The highlight was her mash-up of the judges from 'So You Think You Can Dance' and I also have a soft spot for 'Masterchef' so enjoyed her piss take of that too. She even had a song about cellulite that had the audience giggling.
With bleeding ears, (I've never heard anything like it and feel so old for saying so), I retreated to the bathroom after Pig & Machine had given us an onslaught of epileptic dancing, screeching and electro sounds coupled with the most insane guitar playing I've seen. I ran into the ultra hip Asian friend of the lead singer, I asked her what it was that we'd just seen - how would you classify that 'music'? She shrugged and said, "I don't know - electro maybe. She's my friend, so you should ask her. I don't even know. Maybe break-core!" Ok. Said friend is the lead singer, she arrived with a cutesy outfit on but came on stage dressed in zebra hot pants, a traditional Chinese silk jacket and a sequinned head dress that covered her face entirely. Her guitarist was all in black with a sinister black hood (also over his face, though hers came off with her nutty dancing) and white sunnies over the top and the techie on the computer had a white boiler suit and the necessary black Raybans.
Afterwards, old rockers Primitive Calculators (don't you love that name?) faced up to images of their old selves and sang along with their backs to the audience. Hmmm. They re-formed a few years ago when their old mucker Nick Cave asked them to play a gig with him. Thankfully they eventually did get up on stage and face their fans. Richard Moore (Festival Director) was rocking around as were other staff groovers (go Daria!) and everyone seemed to be having a blast. By this stage, I was sick of shouting and so my lovely mate Nichole (who I met at Jaipur literature fest and has moved to Melbs) and I ended up in this lush bar drinking red wine.
I've been working my butt off lately getting back into the black. I've been juggling a bunch of jobs (environmental short film comp called Future Shots, auction house and gallery called Moss Green, old mate Amanda McCarthy's fashion label Leonard St and door bitch at The Supper Club) but more on them later. For now, I want to immerse myself in film. There is so much to see. I saw an intense Norweigian film called TROUBLED WATER that was long and harrowing but so beautifully shot and moving and a fantastic documentary on Celia Cruz called CELIA THE QUEEN. Now I must get moving as I've got a load more to see today and many more to plan.
With a square red carpet (!) outside the magnificent Hamer Hall (part of the Arts Centre) right by the Yarra River and the city centre, the guests gathered in their finest black tie outfits. The atmosphere was wonderfully buzzy, as with the opening of all film festivals I've attended, but by the end of the screening noone could breathe.
At the climatic scene near the end, when Anthony LaPaglia is battling for his life, the soundtrack goes completely quiet. I have never experienced human howls, not just sobs, like that in a screening in my life. And I've never seen so many people scurry away for a quiet cigarette before the party began.
For those of you who don't know, these events happened in the mid 70s and for so long, governments covered up exactly what happened to these young journos (aged between 21 and 28). With a popoulation of onky 700,000 people, the Indonesian occupation of Timor Leste saw 183,000 people murdered. These five Aussie journos are only a small part of a bloody history, but the fact that their deaths were covered up for so many years made this night a hugely significant one for their families.
Ramos Horta is portrayed in the film by an extraordinary young actor - watch out for Oscar Isaac. Forced into exile, it was a long time before he could return to his country and take the position of President. During those years, he fought tirelessly for justice for Timor Leste and received the Nobel Peace Prize in the mid 90s. Ramos Horta took the stage after the screening and he gave an immensely moving speech about humanity and war. Robert Connelly, the film's very talented and humble director introduced him with a few words and then LaPaglia took to the stage in a mohawk and leather jacket and spoke about his commitment to the film. Without him it wouldn't have happened.
Then all the families and other actors took to the stage. It was a night I'll never forget. And I have my old friend Andrew Barlow to thank. He invited a group of us to join him on this special night. He was an Executive Producer on BALIBO and I'm sure his passion for film and his razor sharp instincts will guide his hand as his film career develops. I was truly honourd to be a part of opening night and I've since swapped the red carpet for a red MIFF t-shirt, as I'm volunteering at the festival.
I'm working a bunch of wild special events that range from a beautiful 3D animated feature called Coraline to the craziest performance art I've ever seen. Last night, at a venue called Ding Dong, I saw acts that I hardly know how to describe. The first was a girl raging against the pop culture machine, she projected images from magazines and television and basically gave them a ticking off. She took the piss, she yelled and she sure had an opinion. The highlight was her mash-up of the judges from 'So You Think You Can Dance' and I also have a soft spot for 'Masterchef' so enjoyed her piss take of that too. She even had a song about cellulite that had the audience giggling.
With bleeding ears, (I've never heard anything like it and feel so old for saying so), I retreated to the bathroom after Pig & Machine had given us an onslaught of epileptic dancing, screeching and electro sounds coupled with the most insane guitar playing I've seen. I ran into the ultra hip Asian friend of the lead singer, I asked her what it was that we'd just seen - how would you classify that 'music'? She shrugged and said, "I don't know - electro maybe. She's my friend, so you should ask her. I don't even know. Maybe break-core!" Ok. Said friend is the lead singer, she arrived with a cutesy outfit on but came on stage dressed in zebra hot pants, a traditional Chinese silk jacket and a sequinned head dress that covered her face entirely. Her guitarist was all in black with a sinister black hood (also over his face, though hers came off with her nutty dancing) and white sunnies over the top and the techie on the computer had a white boiler suit and the necessary black Raybans.
Afterwards, old rockers Primitive Calculators (don't you love that name?) faced up to images of their old selves and sang along with their backs to the audience. Hmmm. They re-formed a few years ago when their old mucker Nick Cave asked them to play a gig with him. Thankfully they eventually did get up on stage and face their fans. Richard Moore (Festival Director) was rocking around as were other staff groovers (go Daria!) and everyone seemed to be having a blast. By this stage, I was sick of shouting and so my lovely mate Nichole (who I met at Jaipur literature fest and has moved to Melbs) and I ended up in this lush bar drinking red wine.
I've been working my butt off lately getting back into the black. I've been juggling a bunch of jobs (environmental short film comp called Future Shots, auction house and gallery called Moss Green, old mate Amanda McCarthy's fashion label Leonard St and door bitch at The Supper Club) but more on them later. For now, I want to immerse myself in film. There is so much to see. I saw an intense Norweigian film called TROUBLED WATER that was long and harrowing but so beautifully shot and moving and a fantastic documentary on Celia Cruz called CELIA THE QUEEN. Now I must get moving as I've got a load more to see today and many more to plan.
Sunday, 21 June 2009
MIGHTY NUMBER FOUR
I admit it, I'm a bogan. True blue. I have embraced the Mighty Magpies with all my heart. We just beat Sydney and are now fourth on the ladder. Hooray! Plus Didak (who wears jersey No.4) is a truly astounding player. Though Leon Davis is a true legend. And I'm coming around to Marty Clarke.
Anway, enough footy but after living next to two stadiums in London (Arsenal and Chelsea) and never feeling a part of the gang, as I appreciate soccer/football but never loved it like Aussie rules. It's funny what gets in your blood. I'm already excited for the next match against Fremantle.
It's been a fantastic weekend. Last night I dressed up as my Latino male alter ego and sang karaoke for hours and hours with a gorgeous gang of new friends. And Hame. Who looked great in a skirt. I had such fun trying to pick up girls, though they weren't fooled. I might have made myself rather too well endowed, but couldn't resist. I had one of the best nights I've had since I got back. I ended up sitting around an open fire in the middle of Federation Square (slap bang in the centre of Melbourne) at 6am. It was surrounded by red earth and had a security guard watching over it. T'was most romantic.
Today I'm gathering myself for the week ahead. Hame is yet to read the re-draft but soon I hope we'll put the script out there to people we trust I can't wait to start being able to actually talk about the story. I had absolute blind faith in this project, despite my decade in the film industry.
This week I find a new mission. I can feel it. It's coming.
I am missing London so much right now. One of my dearest friends, who set up my website for me, the divine Bronwyn van der Merwe is marrying her man next week. Clive Pegg and her have a baby Felix together and the three of them are heading to the Greek Islands for a few weeks before she has to return to work at the BBC. I know she's loathe to do so, but hopefully it will be a positive thing. It must be incredibly hard to go from being a full time Mum, to having to entrust your baby to a stranger's care. I know Anne has had a tough time doing it with Hunter, but it's the reality of modern life. Particularly in London where costs are high.
One of my best, dearest and most gorgeous friends here is Pip Sallabank, now Poddine. Her baby daughter Mila Nicolina is my goddaughter and she had her second birthday not long ago. We had a hilarious afternoon eating fairy bread and coconut ice (my faves!!!!) with her brother Julian and his wife Nicky, their two little boys (Vivian and Monty) and Dorina Sallabank. It was such a special family occasion and I was utterly over the moon to be there. I missed Pip's wedding and the birth of her daughter, but she is such a true friend, she made me godmother in absentia and I'm immensely proud to have such an honour bestowed on me.
Cristian, Pip's husband, is from near Lake Como and the three of them are in Italia at the moment introducing their little angel to his family. What a special time for them all. I miss Pip, I'm realising that with her not working, we've been spending quite a bit of time together and I miss not being able to call her and see little Mila. Pip is a natural mother. She absolutely adores the process and doesn't want to go back to work. Some people find this shocking, which is such an immense turnaround from days of old. She sometimes feels she has to apologise for wanting to be a stay at home Mum. Isn't that just crazy?
Babies are popping out all over the place. I think there have been at least 6 births that I know about of friends of mine back here since my return. It's only been 4 months. Isn't that mad? Plus a great friend in London is about to pop. Sanna is the tiniest little creature you've ever seen, I just can't imagine her pregnant. I'm sad not to be there for the birth. Her husband Lyall is a Sydney boy (she's Finnish) and was recently home to work on a film project. I was gutted to miss him, but he arrived the week after I'd made my visit. Such a bugger.
Anyway, I think this bloody mary is kicking in now. I must get myself together as I'm heading back to the NGV to get another look at the Dali exhibition. Mum is being taken around by the curator and I'm standing in for Hame (even though I hardly have a voice after last night) as it was such a scrum on opening night. I'm looking forward to taking another look.
Hot Pies!
Lxxx
Anway, enough footy but after living next to two stadiums in London (Arsenal and Chelsea) and never feeling a part of the gang, as I appreciate soccer/football but never loved it like Aussie rules. It's funny what gets in your blood. I'm already excited for the next match against Fremantle.
It's been a fantastic weekend. Last night I dressed up as my Latino male alter ego and sang karaoke for hours and hours with a gorgeous gang of new friends. And Hame. Who looked great in a skirt. I had such fun trying to pick up girls, though they weren't fooled. I might have made myself rather too well endowed, but couldn't resist. I had one of the best nights I've had since I got back. I ended up sitting around an open fire in the middle of Federation Square (slap bang in the centre of Melbourne) at 6am. It was surrounded by red earth and had a security guard watching over it. T'was most romantic.
Today I'm gathering myself for the week ahead. Hame is yet to read the re-draft but soon I hope we'll put the script out there to people we trust I can't wait to start being able to actually talk about the story. I had absolute blind faith in this project, despite my decade in the film industry.
This week I find a new mission. I can feel it. It's coming.
I am missing London so much right now. One of my dearest friends, who set up my website for me, the divine Bronwyn van der Merwe is marrying her man next week. Clive Pegg and her have a baby Felix together and the three of them are heading to the Greek Islands for a few weeks before she has to return to work at the BBC. I know she's loathe to do so, but hopefully it will be a positive thing. It must be incredibly hard to go from being a full time Mum, to having to entrust your baby to a stranger's care. I know Anne has had a tough time doing it with Hunter, but it's the reality of modern life. Particularly in London where costs are high.
One of my best, dearest and most gorgeous friends here is Pip Sallabank, now Poddine. Her baby daughter Mila Nicolina is my goddaughter and she had her second birthday not long ago. We had a hilarious afternoon eating fairy bread and coconut ice (my faves!!!!) with her brother Julian and his wife Nicky, their two little boys (Vivian and Monty) and Dorina Sallabank. It was such a special family occasion and I was utterly over the moon to be there. I missed Pip's wedding and the birth of her daughter, but she is such a true friend, she made me godmother in absentia and I'm immensely proud to have such an honour bestowed on me.
Cristian, Pip's husband, is from near Lake Como and the three of them are in Italia at the moment introducing their little angel to his family. What a special time for them all. I miss Pip, I'm realising that with her not working, we've been spending quite a bit of time together and I miss not being able to call her and see little Mila. Pip is a natural mother. She absolutely adores the process and doesn't want to go back to work. Some people find this shocking, which is such an immense turnaround from days of old. She sometimes feels she has to apologise for wanting to be a stay at home Mum. Isn't that just crazy?
Babies are popping out all over the place. I think there have been at least 6 births that I know about of friends of mine back here since my return. It's only been 4 months. Isn't that mad? Plus a great friend in London is about to pop. Sanna is the tiniest little creature you've ever seen, I just can't imagine her pregnant. I'm sad not to be there for the birth. Her husband Lyall is a Sydney boy (she's Finnish) and was recently home to work on a film project. I was gutted to miss him, but he arrived the week after I'd made my visit. Such a bugger.
Anyway, I think this bloody mary is kicking in now. I must get myself together as I'm heading back to the NGV to get another look at the Dali exhibition. Mum is being taken around by the curator and I'm standing in for Hame (even though I hardly have a voice after last night) as it was such a scrum on opening night. I'm looking forward to taking another look.
Hot Pies!
Lxxx
Wednesday, 17 June 2009
ARTISTIC IMMERSION ALERT
I'm deep in second draft mode and need to unload. Sometimes I hit a point after writing for an extended period, when I feel like my brain is melting. I'm sure it's my fault for trying to squash this rewrite into a short space of time, but too much else is going on. I've gotta get moving. I need to be in motion.
It's been divine sunshine since I arrived at Flinders, where Mum and the dogs have made me most welcome. Dad is away at the US Open, having a divine time with his mates, so it's been blissful to have some time with Le Muzz. She's just had the most brilliant news about her new exhibition. It sounds like she's sought out just the right partners and all her hard research and preparation has paid off.
Her last exhibition, 'Exiles and Emigrants', was a huge success at the National Gallery of Victoria, it then travelled on to the NGAustralia. It launched when I was last back in Oz and I was so proud to be there for the opening. It explored the voluntary migration from the British Isles to Australia (as opposed to the scurrilous convicts who were unloaded here) in the mid nineteenth century. It's amazing that the script I'm writing is set in that period. It's inspiring delving into the bookshelves here at The gorgeous Moorings. What a home my parents have made here, it's got the warmest welcome. A reflection of them both.
Last week I fell back in love. With Dali. The opening at the NGV was astounding. I had never heard of the cartoon Destino that he worked on with Walt Disney. Sadly it was never completed, but I can't wait to go back and sit and watch more of it. The opening was a total scrum, so I only got a limited view of the incredible exhbition, but it left a huge impression. His works in the 30s and 40s were truly astounding.
On that note, I will never forget Robin Niven's performance in 'August: Osage County'. She portrayed the terrifying matriarch of a truly dysfunctional middle American family. And she was a powerhouse of ferocious frailty. My god, the play went for over 3 hours and it was an amazing experience. The only time it lagged was when Niven wasn't on the stage, which was sadly in the last act.
Then, to add a bit more kulcha to the mix, I went to the magnificent Malthouse Theatre to see my old schoolie Caroline Craig in yet another play, this one called 'Optimism'. I never dreamt that I'd see Barry Otto (remember him in STRICTLY BALLROOM as the downtrodden father? and so much more) dancing topless on the stage in a purple airline stewardess hat and matching skirt and heels. Everyone was brilliant in this play, which felt an awful lot like someone's acid flashback. It was insane. So different to 'August' but most enjoyable.
They're taking 'Optimism' to the Edinburgh Festival, which is great for the cast. The girls were so shattered, as it finished its Malthouse run the night after I took my lovely cuz Nicola. One of the actresses I met, had recently completed a three and a half year stint at the Sydney Theatre Company and spoke highly of everyone there. Gosh they looked exhaustepated. It must be so hard working night after night and giving out all that energy (plus matinees). Clearly it's a fantastically fun occupation and most people dream of being an actor, but the reality of it is so different to the dream. But isn't it always.
I'm three quarters of the way through my rewrite and cannot WAIT to show the script to some people I trust. It is the most amazing feeling to finally be proud of something I've written. I can't describe how much I'm enjoying this process. I'm praying that I won't be too precious about the words when it comes to criticism and deciding what's best for the project. I know it's far from perfect. I just pray I can put on my Producer's hat and separate myself. This film deserves all our efforts. It's something I know we're going to make. It's time for Hamish and I to finally do it. Though the road may be long and winding, well who's kidding who, it most certainly will be. I want to walk it, run it, skip it, whatever it takes.
I just hope I can find a mission to keep me here while the road unfolds. I need to keep the wolf from the door and stimulate other parts of my brain. I say a little prayer that I can find one. That someone will have the faith to take a chance on me. My experience is so varied, I've fought against labels all my life but at times like these I wish I could sum myself up in one word instead of being a slasher (as in writer slash producer slash presenter slash......) as I can imagine it would make finding work a whole lot easier.
Better get some sleep.
Lxxxxx
It's been divine sunshine since I arrived at Flinders, where Mum and the dogs have made me most welcome. Dad is away at the US Open, having a divine time with his mates, so it's been blissful to have some time with Le Muzz. She's just had the most brilliant news about her new exhibition. It sounds like she's sought out just the right partners and all her hard research and preparation has paid off.
Her last exhibition, 'Exiles and Emigrants', was a huge success at the National Gallery of Victoria, it then travelled on to the NGAustralia. It launched when I was last back in Oz and I was so proud to be there for the opening. It explored the voluntary migration from the British Isles to Australia (as opposed to the scurrilous convicts who were unloaded here) in the mid nineteenth century. It's amazing that the script I'm writing is set in that period. It's inspiring delving into the bookshelves here at The gorgeous Moorings. What a home my parents have made here, it's got the warmest welcome. A reflection of them both.
Last week I fell back in love. With Dali. The opening at the NGV was astounding. I had never heard of the cartoon Destino that he worked on with Walt Disney. Sadly it was never completed, but I can't wait to go back and sit and watch more of it. The opening was a total scrum, so I only got a limited view of the incredible exhbition, but it left a huge impression. His works in the 30s and 40s were truly astounding.
On that note, I will never forget Robin Niven's performance in 'August: Osage County'. She portrayed the terrifying matriarch of a truly dysfunctional middle American family. And she was a powerhouse of ferocious frailty. My god, the play went for over 3 hours and it was an amazing experience. The only time it lagged was when Niven wasn't on the stage, which was sadly in the last act.
Then, to add a bit more kulcha to the mix, I went to the magnificent Malthouse Theatre to see my old schoolie Caroline Craig in yet another play, this one called 'Optimism'. I never dreamt that I'd see Barry Otto (remember him in STRICTLY BALLROOM as the downtrodden father? and so much more) dancing topless on the stage in a purple airline stewardess hat and matching skirt and heels. Everyone was brilliant in this play, which felt an awful lot like someone's acid flashback. It was insane. So different to 'August' but most enjoyable.
They're taking 'Optimism' to the Edinburgh Festival, which is great for the cast. The girls were so shattered, as it finished its Malthouse run the night after I took my lovely cuz Nicola. One of the actresses I met, had recently completed a three and a half year stint at the Sydney Theatre Company and spoke highly of everyone there. Gosh they looked exhaustepated. It must be so hard working night after night and giving out all that energy (plus matinees). Clearly it's a fantastically fun occupation and most people dream of being an actor, but the reality of it is so different to the dream. But isn't it always.
I'm three quarters of the way through my rewrite and cannot WAIT to show the script to some people I trust. It is the most amazing feeling to finally be proud of something I've written. I can't describe how much I'm enjoying this process. I'm praying that I won't be too precious about the words when it comes to criticism and deciding what's best for the project. I know it's far from perfect. I just pray I can put on my Producer's hat and separate myself. This film deserves all our efforts. It's something I know we're going to make. It's time for Hamish and I to finally do it. Though the road may be long and winding, well who's kidding who, it most certainly will be. I want to walk it, run it, skip it, whatever it takes.
I just hope I can find a mission to keep me here while the road unfolds. I need to keep the wolf from the door and stimulate other parts of my brain. I say a little prayer that I can find one. That someone will have the faith to take a chance on me. My experience is so varied, I've fought against labels all my life but at times like these I wish I could sum myself up in one word instead of being a slasher (as in writer slash producer slash presenter slash......) as I can imagine it would make finding work a whole lot easier.
Better get some sleep.
Lxxxxx
Friday, 5 June 2009
TIME KEEPS ON TRIPPIN, INTO THE FUTURE
I feel as though I've spent most of my 'adult' life, racing around the world at a breathless pace trying to prove myself and make some sort of mark. It's so strange to reach a point where you must take a long, hard look at what that all amounts to. It's exciting to be at a crossroads and to know in your heart that you're a capable person with talent to share, but my how the head begs to differ.
Are we all our own worst enemies?
I am thrilled that the Aussie film industry is having a bumper year. I'm even more thrilled that SAMSON & DELILAH won the Camera d'Or in Cannes and is proving itself at the box office, the first really successful Aussie film since LANTANA in monetary terms. And critically it's been a smash. As I wrote a while back, I thought it an astounding achievement and a gobsmacking experience to watch. I really don't want to ruin it for anyone who's keen to see it, and to you I say go, support this film and give yourself over to its unique rhythm. It's an Australian story about two young Aboriginals who are struggling to find their path and love. It is funny, thought provoking, terrifying and immensely moving.
I love Melbourne. I love Australia. But what's been going on lately in the outer suburbs of my home town is deeply disturbing, I've been waking at night feeling sick. Young Indian men are being beaten up with alarming regularity and viciousness. As you've probably seen in the media, these attacks have been so brutal and clearly racially motivated that India is rightly appalled and has responded vocally. There was a protest last weekend in the centre of Melbourne and India is already boycotting Australia.
For those of you who came on my Indian journey with me, you'll know that I was welcomed with open arms by almost everyone I came across. It was humbling and life affirming. I've never felt anything quite like it. Even after seven years of living in England, despite being half British, I never felt that sort of warmth, generosity and genuine inquisitiveness. I'm not so naive as to imply that every Indian I met had perfect intentions, or that I didn't experience forms of racism being a light bulb blondie who stuck out a mile, but I was overwhelmingly accepted and respected. For that I will always love India and cannot wait to return.
Nor am I saying that England is utterly standoffish and unwelcoming. I had seven long, fascinating years living there and I met some incredible people. I made friendships with Brits and foreigners alike there that will last forever. I worked for some of the most incredible people I've ever known, but I often felt that the UK kept me at arms length. I had to work so hard to try and fit in, (and afford any sort of lifestyle), at times I felt that it bled me dry of positivity and warmth and strength - three things I like to think I had endless supplies of.
Every country has problems with racism. We live in an incredibly multicultural society and a lot of the time it is tolerant and accepting. Most of the people I know and love in Australia are horrified at what's been happening to these Indian students, young men who've come here to learn from this country and its people - to make a better life for themselves and their family. So why the hatred? Why would a group of young guys attack another group with screwdrivers and fists when they were simply spending the night at a party doing what all young people do - having a bit of fun, a release from their heavy work schedules and the heavy expectations of their families and themselves?
I know this question is complex and throughout history humans have persecuted other humans, sometimes simply in reaction to which god they worship. What I find so completely hideous, is that one young man can look in the eyes of another and just because of the colour of his skin, he can want to kill him. Without knowing his name, his ideals, his family, his history, he can just pick up a screwdriver and attack him and leave him for dead. My heart breaks. It is the ugliest side of this country, of humanity - ignorance that breeds violence is everywhere, but somehow it's worse when it comes from a country that claims to welcome every race, colour and creed. A country that prides itself on diversity and wouldn't be riding out the recession so well, without the hard graft and commitment of the myriad of people from every imaginable background, who keep this country moving forward. Who love this country like their own.
It makes me want to board a plane immediately back to India, to see what I can do to help people there. To seek out the families of those who've been attacked and maimed (some who've died) and apologise to them. To give them all that I have. To let them know that someone really does care about what happened. I am deeply ashamed. Forgive me if you feel I'm being overdramatic, but I have been so happy to be home again. But this feels like a repeat of when I last tried to live back here and the Cronulla riots broke out in Sydney between a bunch of Aussie surfers and some young Lebanese kids. Noone wins in these sort of battles. Bloodshed only breeds pain and suffering.
I keep flashing back to a lovely Indian woman who I met on a train from Jaipur to Lucknow. Her berth was below mine and when the train decided to terminate in Lucknow instead of going on to Varanasi, she heard me talking with a British traveller and her Polish friend about how we'd get there. She got on her phone and organised a car to pick us up (at an ungodly hour) and couldn't have been kinder. When she asked where I was from and I replied, Australia. She smiled. I asked if she'd ever been or wanted to go, she said, "Oh no, I'm afraid I've heard that it's very racist there." I must admit to being taken aback, though she said it without malice, I was a touch put out. It was not the response I was used to when discussing the country of my birth.
Her words keep resounding in my head now. I grew up in the most wonderful country and was mostly blind to the seething hatred that does exist here under the surface (as it did on the estate around the corner from where I lived in Highbury or the neighbourhoods I lived in New York). But if I'm really honest, I remember how some people were teased at school and I remember the shame I felt when friends of mine were mean (and probably I was too) to people who were different, when we should have known better. I clearly recall the effect that Russell Crowe's searing portrayal of a Neo Nazi in ROMPER STOMPER had on me. That was the first time I really saw the dark side of Australia. I had witnessed many news reports of terrible wars and atrocities overseas, but that film's opening sequence was shot in Richmond station. It was a short walk from where I spent my predominantly happy youth. I couldn't believe it.
My father was a newspaperman (and in his heart still is). I used to joke that by the time I awoke, Dad had read at least five newspapers and was ready to discuss the political system in Bulgaria, if you'd let him. Mum and I sometimes rolled our eyes as he spilled information about what had been happening while we slept. (I once gave Mum a keyring that summed us both up, 'I May Rise But I Refuse To Shine') He has always been and continues to be, a sponge for what's going on in the world. I think that made me lazy. He was such a fountain of up to date information, that I hardly needed to open a paper myself. When he hosted a current affairs radio show between 8.30-10 every week morning, he was up at 5am working and reading and researching (there has never been and never will be someone more dilligent than my father), so for 5 years he was gone by the time I made it to breakfast and his voice was the backdrop to many lives during those years.
I try and read the papers and surf a few sites most days, but I must admit that there are those where I get lost inside my own head and don't connect with the world. I take Minnie La Mooch for a walk and connect with Elwood, but I do crave the discipline to consistently look outside myself, to be always grateful for the astounding gifts I have been given in this life and to respect others. I try my best, but I know I could do better.
This week I've been battling with the industry and the internet, trying to extract a job to give my life back here structure. But what sort of meaning am I searching for? I am immensely privileged compared to many in this world, I have a responsibility to do something more with my life. I am proud that I've written a film and achieved some things, but when I compare them to what others have done and are trying to do, I come up short. My grandmother always told us to reach beyond our grasp. I am trying.
In the words of Aretha Franklin, I say a little prayer.
Are we all our own worst enemies?
I am thrilled that the Aussie film industry is having a bumper year. I'm even more thrilled that SAMSON & DELILAH won the Camera d'Or in Cannes and is proving itself at the box office, the first really successful Aussie film since LANTANA in monetary terms. And critically it's been a smash. As I wrote a while back, I thought it an astounding achievement and a gobsmacking experience to watch. I really don't want to ruin it for anyone who's keen to see it, and to you I say go, support this film and give yourself over to its unique rhythm. It's an Australian story about two young Aboriginals who are struggling to find their path and love. It is funny, thought provoking, terrifying and immensely moving.
I love Melbourne. I love Australia. But what's been going on lately in the outer suburbs of my home town is deeply disturbing, I've been waking at night feeling sick. Young Indian men are being beaten up with alarming regularity and viciousness. As you've probably seen in the media, these attacks have been so brutal and clearly racially motivated that India is rightly appalled and has responded vocally. There was a protest last weekend in the centre of Melbourne and India is already boycotting Australia.
For those of you who came on my Indian journey with me, you'll know that I was welcomed with open arms by almost everyone I came across. It was humbling and life affirming. I've never felt anything quite like it. Even after seven years of living in England, despite being half British, I never felt that sort of warmth, generosity and genuine inquisitiveness. I'm not so naive as to imply that every Indian I met had perfect intentions, or that I didn't experience forms of racism being a light bulb blondie who stuck out a mile, but I was overwhelmingly accepted and respected. For that I will always love India and cannot wait to return.
Nor am I saying that England is utterly standoffish and unwelcoming. I had seven long, fascinating years living there and I met some incredible people. I made friendships with Brits and foreigners alike there that will last forever. I worked for some of the most incredible people I've ever known, but I often felt that the UK kept me at arms length. I had to work so hard to try and fit in, (and afford any sort of lifestyle), at times I felt that it bled me dry of positivity and warmth and strength - three things I like to think I had endless supplies of.
Every country has problems with racism. We live in an incredibly multicultural society and a lot of the time it is tolerant and accepting. Most of the people I know and love in Australia are horrified at what's been happening to these Indian students, young men who've come here to learn from this country and its people - to make a better life for themselves and their family. So why the hatred? Why would a group of young guys attack another group with screwdrivers and fists when they were simply spending the night at a party doing what all young people do - having a bit of fun, a release from their heavy work schedules and the heavy expectations of their families and themselves?
I know this question is complex and throughout history humans have persecuted other humans, sometimes simply in reaction to which god they worship. What I find so completely hideous, is that one young man can look in the eyes of another and just because of the colour of his skin, he can want to kill him. Without knowing his name, his ideals, his family, his history, he can just pick up a screwdriver and attack him and leave him for dead. My heart breaks. It is the ugliest side of this country, of humanity - ignorance that breeds violence is everywhere, but somehow it's worse when it comes from a country that claims to welcome every race, colour and creed. A country that prides itself on diversity and wouldn't be riding out the recession so well, without the hard graft and commitment of the myriad of people from every imaginable background, who keep this country moving forward. Who love this country like their own.
It makes me want to board a plane immediately back to India, to see what I can do to help people there. To seek out the families of those who've been attacked and maimed (some who've died) and apologise to them. To give them all that I have. To let them know that someone really does care about what happened. I am deeply ashamed. Forgive me if you feel I'm being overdramatic, but I have been so happy to be home again. But this feels like a repeat of when I last tried to live back here and the Cronulla riots broke out in Sydney between a bunch of Aussie surfers and some young Lebanese kids. Noone wins in these sort of battles. Bloodshed only breeds pain and suffering.
I keep flashing back to a lovely Indian woman who I met on a train from Jaipur to Lucknow. Her berth was below mine and when the train decided to terminate in Lucknow instead of going on to Varanasi, she heard me talking with a British traveller and her Polish friend about how we'd get there. She got on her phone and organised a car to pick us up (at an ungodly hour) and couldn't have been kinder. When she asked where I was from and I replied, Australia. She smiled. I asked if she'd ever been or wanted to go, she said, "Oh no, I'm afraid I've heard that it's very racist there." I must admit to being taken aback, though she said it without malice, I was a touch put out. It was not the response I was used to when discussing the country of my birth.
Her words keep resounding in my head now. I grew up in the most wonderful country and was mostly blind to the seething hatred that does exist here under the surface (as it did on the estate around the corner from where I lived in Highbury or the neighbourhoods I lived in New York). But if I'm really honest, I remember how some people were teased at school and I remember the shame I felt when friends of mine were mean (and probably I was too) to people who were different, when we should have known better. I clearly recall the effect that Russell Crowe's searing portrayal of a Neo Nazi in ROMPER STOMPER had on me. That was the first time I really saw the dark side of Australia. I had witnessed many news reports of terrible wars and atrocities overseas, but that film's opening sequence was shot in Richmond station. It was a short walk from where I spent my predominantly happy youth. I couldn't believe it.
My father was a newspaperman (and in his heart still is). I used to joke that by the time I awoke, Dad had read at least five newspapers and was ready to discuss the political system in Bulgaria, if you'd let him. Mum and I sometimes rolled our eyes as he spilled information about what had been happening while we slept. (I once gave Mum a keyring that summed us both up, 'I May Rise But I Refuse To Shine') He has always been and continues to be, a sponge for what's going on in the world. I think that made me lazy. He was such a fountain of up to date information, that I hardly needed to open a paper myself. When he hosted a current affairs radio show between 8.30-10 every week morning, he was up at 5am working and reading and researching (there has never been and never will be someone more dilligent than my father), so for 5 years he was gone by the time I made it to breakfast and his voice was the backdrop to many lives during those years.
I try and read the papers and surf a few sites most days, but I must admit that there are those where I get lost inside my own head and don't connect with the world. I take Minnie La Mooch for a walk and connect with Elwood, but I do crave the discipline to consistently look outside myself, to be always grateful for the astounding gifts I have been given in this life and to respect others. I try my best, but I know I could do better.
This week I've been battling with the industry and the internet, trying to extract a job to give my life back here structure. But what sort of meaning am I searching for? I am immensely privileged compared to many in this world, I have a responsibility to do something more with my life. I am proud that I've written a film and achieved some things, but when I compare them to what others have done and are trying to do, I come up short. My grandmother always told us to reach beyond our grasp. I am trying.
In the words of Aretha Franklin, I say a little prayer.
Thursday, 28 May 2009
DONE, DUSTED, D'OH!
I finished it! I have written a feature film. So, so, so happy that I made it through last week. After quite a few struggles, I pushed on to 80 pages. On my second last day, I sat down and wrote 10 more and had an 'ah, I'm almost there, this isn't so bad' moment. Advice - don't ever allow yourself that moment before you've finished (bit like the ANZAC day match where one minute before the siren, I relaxed and thought the Maggies had it in the bag and the Bombers snatched it from us)......
My fricking computer froze on me and I lost 10 pages. That may not sound a lot to some, but when you've just gone from 80 to 90 pages and 100 is your aim, to then go back to 80 when it's mid-afternoon and you're leaving your writing haven the next day - HELL!! So, I huffed and puffed and tried everything to retrieve the missing pages, when I finally realised they were gone forever, I was so tempted to storm next door and complain to Kirst and Nick (her great mate was visiting - he's behind the Playboy with Minnie La Mooch below) but knew instinctively that I'd lose it all in my head.
I sat there and argued with myself. Over and over. Finally I just forced my hands to type. And I did it. I know in my heart that those 10 pages are better for it. Hallelujah. So, I hit page 101 and Kirst popped a bottle of Veuve Cliquot. Owzat! It was the most delicious bottle of champagne ever. My own mini-Cannes.
The next day I packed up and headed back to reality. K dropped me in Mornington just in the nick of time (well the poor guy had to wait a few mins but hey ho) to catch my bus. The sun was shining and I got off in Elwood and walked home feeling light as a feather. I made plans with my oldest, most gorgeous friend Pip for dinner and she took me to an incredible Italian called Da Noi. It was the perfect choice, as it used to be a restaurant called Brummels where I worked when I was a teenager. It was a perfect night. We had about 10 small courses (3 desserts!) and numerous wines - each one was more delicious than the last. Squisito.
The next day I woke up and couldn't help myself, I had to read over the script (despite my promise of the weekend off). Not so bad, but still not happy with the ending. Then I had a fun day meeting my neighbours and getting ready for drinks. I caught up with some friends and had a mini celebration, which was so much fun. I think I played some of the cheesiest tunes in existence - just for a change. Dancing is food for the soul.
Then I took off to Flinders with Dad and did a final edit. Amazing how many mistakes you find when you actually see it on paper. Hame arrived back from the States, where he had a brilliant break and I presented him with the draft. He only finished reading it last night and I asked for positive feedback first, as I know that there are lots of things to improve but it seems he thinks it's a great start. Phew!
We're going to spend the weekend picking it apart and then we start on the long, long, long road of trying to get a feature off the ground. But, I've got a good feeling about this one. I really do.
Now, I have to face the cold, hard truth that I must get a 'real' job. No more spending all my time on docs and writing scripts for a bit. I need to make some cashish and check in properly with the film industry here. I've been under the radar a lot since I got back. Time to get out in the light. Here I am again, reinventing myself for the gazillionth time it seems. It's exciting but so daunting.
Wish me luck.
My fricking computer froze on me and I lost 10 pages. That may not sound a lot to some, but when you've just gone from 80 to 90 pages and 100 is your aim, to then go back to 80 when it's mid-afternoon and you're leaving your writing haven the next day - HELL!! So, I huffed and puffed and tried everything to retrieve the missing pages, when I finally realised they were gone forever, I was so tempted to storm next door and complain to Kirst and Nick (her great mate was visiting - he's behind the Playboy with Minnie La Mooch below) but knew instinctively that I'd lose it all in my head.
I sat there and argued with myself. Over and over. Finally I just forced my hands to type. And I did it. I know in my heart that those 10 pages are better for it. Hallelujah. So, I hit page 101 and Kirst popped a bottle of Veuve Cliquot. Owzat! It was the most delicious bottle of champagne ever. My own mini-Cannes.
The next day I packed up and headed back to reality. K dropped me in Mornington just in the nick of time (well the poor guy had to wait a few mins but hey ho) to catch my bus. The sun was shining and I got off in Elwood and walked home feeling light as a feather. I made plans with my oldest, most gorgeous friend Pip for dinner and she took me to an incredible Italian called Da Noi. It was the perfect choice, as it used to be a restaurant called Brummels where I worked when I was a teenager. It was a perfect night. We had about 10 small courses (3 desserts!) and numerous wines - each one was more delicious than the last. Squisito.
The next day I woke up and couldn't help myself, I had to read over the script (despite my promise of the weekend off). Not so bad, but still not happy with the ending. Then I had a fun day meeting my neighbours and getting ready for drinks. I caught up with some friends and had a mini celebration, which was so much fun. I think I played some of the cheesiest tunes in existence - just for a change. Dancing is food for the soul.
Then I took off to Flinders with Dad and did a final edit. Amazing how many mistakes you find when you actually see it on paper. Hame arrived back from the States, where he had a brilliant break and I presented him with the draft. He only finished reading it last night and I asked for positive feedback first, as I know that there are lots of things to improve but it seems he thinks it's a great start. Phew!
We're going to spend the weekend picking it apart and then we start on the long, long, long road of trying to get a feature off the ground. But, I've got a good feeling about this one. I really do.Now, I have to face the cold, hard truth that I must get a 'real' job. No more spending all my time on docs and writing scripts for a bit. I need to make some cashish and check in properly with the film industry here. I've been under the radar a lot since I got back. Time to get out in the light. Here I am again, reinventing myself for the gazillionth time it seems. It's exciting but so daunting.
Wish me luck.
Tuesday, 19 May 2009
BATTLING DEMONS BY THE SEA
I'm on a mission. I'm attempting to write my first feature film script in 9 years and I've chosen an Australian period bio-pic.
I'm not allowed to give the story away or my brother, Hamish, will excommunicate me. Safe to say it's a story that we felt driven to tell and we spent considerable time planning and plotting. Then he nicked off for a holiday in America. I think he's just made it to San Francisco. I'm very jealous.
Though I've got the most incredible setting in which to write. I'm poised on the sea front of Portsea, just above Shelley Beach. The view is breathtaking and this is the house where I spent endless, happy, sunburnt summers growing up. It's also the location where I wrote my last screenplay.I am most definitely making good headway, but I've hit a rough patch and am battling with myself not to give up too easily. It's Day 9 and I'm on page 76. My aim was 10 pages per day and I kept to that until Sunday. That day of enticing sloth.
I have been doing a mini triathalon most mornings (Sunday being the exception!!!) which is most unusual for me. I've done a little yoga, then a run along the beach with dogs yapping at my heels and demanding balls to be thrown (so not really a proper run) and then much to my surprise I've made it into the ocean pretty much every day to swim around the nearest buoy to the end of the jetty. What a wonderful way to start each day. It's heavenly and makes me feel so alive.
Just in case you don't know this, I am one of the laziest exercisers on this planet. I love yoga, but prefer to do a bit on my own than venture to a class and I have quickly got used to going for a morning walk with Minnie (Hame's divine black Staffordshire bull terrier) but running/jogging. Mein godt! Funny how I've always thought it was only for very fit people to do. But even unfit, jelly belly ol' moi can do it.
I am an ex-smoking asthmatic, so I don't go very fast or far, but it's easy to do and helps walk the dog that much faster. A revelation!
Talking of dogs, my heavenly host Kirsty Begg and I took her old boy Jaffa, who's recovering from an op, Minnie the Minster and Mum and Dad's fluffy puppy Oscar to A Million Paws on Sunday morn. It was hilarious. I couldn't stop laughing at all the different people and their crazy dogs. I'm a late convert, I've always been a cat person but I am completely and utterly taken with Minnie. Unfortunately the heavens kept opening on us, but we managed to go for a wander and check out the stalls and while sipping our much needed cuppas, we stood by the mini competition circle in the centre. The rain was sleeting down and they were having a Tallest Dog comp. Kirsty asked where the other entrants were (only two massive Great Dane's were walking around the circle) and after being told that they hadn't showed, she promptly entered Jaffa and he got third prize!!!! Clever ducky. As she said, "You've got to be in it, to win it" when the judges were poking a bit of fun at her old boy.
So, I'm sitting here on Tuesday morning and I have a deadline of Friday. I know that I can reach my target by the end of the week, but how do I get past this block? I'm having a 'the last section I wrote is crap and I want to give up coz it's all too hard' moment. It's stupid and completely predictable after 8 days of blissful writing, where it felt like the words were spilling forth with ease. I know in my head that this is a first draft, there will be many more and I just need to get it down. But my heart is saying, see you silly girl, what did you think you could just write this script, you've got no talent, you should give up now and get a real job.
But I love filmmaking, I love being creative and I want to give this my best. So, I'm going to make another pot of tea and face the blank page. Please say a little prayer for me to the writing god. I need it.
Lxxxx
Monday, 11 May 2009
LOGIES TO GOGIS
I caught the Frankston train back to town, (thank you Rob), and got red carpeted at supersonic speed. I had no time to do anything to may hair, but was otherwise together when the cab pulled up. A Croatian guy asked me numerous times how to get to Tony's address and each time I said that I was very rusty as I'd lived away for so long and showed him on the map where we were going. What's happened to the taxi services in this country. I've had so many run ins with taxis not showing up and then when they do (usually late or having to chase them down the street as they refuse to get out of their cars and ever ring a bell) they rarely have any idea how to get around.
Anyway, my very friendly Croatian decides to tell me every detail about the divorce with his wife. Turns out he was a cinematographer back home but couldn't find that work here. He told me all about his travels and many ex-girlfriends, then realised that he'd gone way past the turn off and without any apology, he then made his way back and I went from being early to late. Great!
Tony's car was waiting and I got to give Helen a big hug before we left. It's a tough time for them, but they're so strong. I recounted my weekend's antics as we approached Crown Casino. It was a chilly but clear evening and the crowds were out in force. It took us a while to get through the melee of photographers, cameras and crowds. Tony handled it all so professionally and I posed along side him, wishing I'd ditched my coat, but knowing I'd be happy for it later.
The funniest thing was when we got to the foot of the stairs, Jono Coleman and his radio partner were waiting to interview Tony. He introduced me too and we had such a funny chat. They got the impression that I'd just come back from working for the BBC, so Jono said "I'm sure we worked together in the UK, do you remember?". "It was the highlight of my career thus far", I replied. How funny! They were interviewing Cathy Freeman before us, so we got to have a quick chat with Australia's Olympic gold medallist who's about to get married.
There were amazing frocks everywhere and the stairs we had to climb were very daunting. Luckily at the top was lots of delicious champers and some interesting people. I ended up in a corner with Kerry O'Brien and some other old journos talking about Collingwood and the good ol' days. They all remembered my Dad. It was a lovely feeling. Tony darted around the room and I met all sorts of presenters and newscasters and actors.
Inside, we were sitting on the Golden Logie table. That's the big award that Tony won in the 80s. We had the most brilliant table. Denise Drysdale was an absolute hoot. Rowena Wallace was ascerbic and full of grace. Mike Willisee came in late with a glamorous brunette and stayed for a short while. But Johnny Young. Sigh! He stole my heart.
Let me pause to say that I had a wonderful night, but unfortunately the idiotic woman (Big Brother host!!!) they chose did such a bad job. Plus the sound was hideous and the screens that were put around the room were so pixellated we couldn't see a damn thing, and the steadi-cam operator on stage kept standing in front of the one good screen. It was a mess. So we all ended up drinking and chatting amongst ourselves. It didn't feel like the awards were inclusive of the audience in the room. They were simply aimed at the television audience.
So, after seeing Rebecca Gibney pick up her awards and looking incredibly stunning, I gathered my courage and went to sit next to Johnny. He remembered my Dad well and when I told him what a huge fan I'd been of Young Talent Time he smiled a knowing smile. "Could you bear to sing All My Lovin'?", I asked breathlessly. He smiled and launched straight into it. I sang along with him and to be honest, I can now die happy.
During the awards I had some fun chats to various people, in particular the gorgeous Ruby Rose. She told me that her necklace was vintage Tiffany's from the 70s and it looked incredible with her glamorous navy gown and her punk rock hair and tatts. What a chick!
The after party is a complete blur of dancing and lychee martinis. I have visions of Tony and I taking turns to get more and more drinks. We were laughing and dancing and had a ball. Suddenly it was time to go home and I'd only had the chance to wave at various friends and acquaintances. I wish I could do it over again, but hey ho.
I feel like I've only just recovered. Luckily I could throw myself into my research for the screenplay and escape to the State Library (WOW) where I disappeared in a pile of books. I am now so excited to have started the script. My first in so long. It feels great to be writing again. I can't give away anything about it (as Hamish would kill me) except to say that it's an Australian story set in the nineteenth century. Clearly an easy one to tackle after so long. Eeeek!
I finished the week with a mother daughter lunch at the Alexandra Club. It was such a funny experience, but filled with some lovely people. Most who hadn't seen me since I was tiny wee. I sat next to a woman who told me stories about her husband that made my blood run cold. Note to self - never, every marry a selfish prick who gambles all day and plays Playstation all night while you look after the kids.
Seated next to her was the wife of Charles Searby who is Ian Darling's screenwriting partner. Oh, I forgot that Ian's wonderful doc OASIS was up for a Logie but sadly didn't win. I went over to commiserate and then brought him back to our table. I also ran into Alison Wyatt and Caroline Craig at various stages of the night.
So I'm not really supposed to talk about GOGI. It's a bit like fight club. But I just have to say that I'm so glad I stuck around in Melbs for our inaugural event. I met so many brilliant people and am so excited about our next meet. I need to do more to take me outside of my comfort zone in Melbs. There are so many interesting adventures just waiting, and people to meet.
Forgot to mention an art opening for Sarah Rennolds (sorry Sarah can't remember your maiden name) who has married Steve. The Nellie Castan Gallery on River St hosted a preview last week and it was such fun to see her work. She's very talented and I'm excited to see where she goes next. It was seriously trippy running into SO many faces, many I hadn't seen since teenage years, in the one small, sweaty room. My gorgeous mate Stelllar showed up and we ended up having a fantabulous evening after.
Congrats to Steve and Sarah and the various other pregnant couples I know (some I can't mention by name). And to my cousin Charlie and his fiancee Katie - such divine news. Oh yeah, and to all those who've just had a little one (Dave and Penny, Ridders and his lady....) many congrats everybody. My what a productive time it is. I'm just trying to give birth to a script. Say a little prayer to the writing god for me. Bless you Kirst, for giving me somewhere to escape to and just write, write, write.
I'll be back when I've come up for air.
Lxxxxx
Anyway, my very friendly Croatian decides to tell me every detail about the divorce with his wife. Turns out he was a cinematographer back home but couldn't find that work here. He told me all about his travels and many ex-girlfriends, then realised that he'd gone way past the turn off and without any apology, he then made his way back and I went from being early to late. Great!
Tony's car was waiting and I got to give Helen a big hug before we left. It's a tough time for them, but they're so strong. I recounted my weekend's antics as we approached Crown Casino. It was a chilly but clear evening and the crowds were out in force. It took us a while to get through the melee of photographers, cameras and crowds. Tony handled it all so professionally and I posed along side him, wishing I'd ditched my coat, but knowing I'd be happy for it later.
The funniest thing was when we got to the foot of the stairs, Jono Coleman and his radio partner were waiting to interview Tony. He introduced me too and we had such a funny chat. They got the impression that I'd just come back from working for the BBC, so Jono said "I'm sure we worked together in the UK, do you remember?". "It was the highlight of my career thus far", I replied. How funny! They were interviewing Cathy Freeman before us, so we got to have a quick chat with Australia's Olympic gold medallist who's about to get married.
There were amazing frocks everywhere and the stairs we had to climb were very daunting. Luckily at the top was lots of delicious champers and some interesting people. I ended up in a corner with Kerry O'Brien and some other old journos talking about Collingwood and the good ol' days. They all remembered my Dad. It was a lovely feeling. Tony darted around the room and I met all sorts of presenters and newscasters and actors.
Inside, we were sitting on the Golden Logie table. That's the big award that Tony won in the 80s. We had the most brilliant table. Denise Drysdale was an absolute hoot. Rowena Wallace was ascerbic and full of grace. Mike Willisee came in late with a glamorous brunette and stayed for a short while. But Johnny Young. Sigh! He stole my heart.
Let me pause to say that I had a wonderful night, but unfortunately the idiotic woman (Big Brother host!!!) they chose did such a bad job. Plus the sound was hideous and the screens that were put around the room were so pixellated we couldn't see a damn thing, and the steadi-cam operator on stage kept standing in front of the one good screen. It was a mess. So we all ended up drinking and chatting amongst ourselves. It didn't feel like the awards were inclusive of the audience in the room. They were simply aimed at the television audience.
So, after seeing Rebecca Gibney pick up her awards and looking incredibly stunning, I gathered my courage and went to sit next to Johnny. He remembered my Dad well and when I told him what a huge fan I'd been of Young Talent Time he smiled a knowing smile. "Could you bear to sing All My Lovin'?", I asked breathlessly. He smiled and launched straight into it. I sang along with him and to be honest, I can now die happy.
During the awards I had some fun chats to various people, in particular the gorgeous Ruby Rose. She told me that her necklace was vintage Tiffany's from the 70s and it looked incredible with her glamorous navy gown and her punk rock hair and tatts. What a chick!
The after party is a complete blur of dancing and lychee martinis. I have visions of Tony and I taking turns to get more and more drinks. We were laughing and dancing and had a ball. Suddenly it was time to go home and I'd only had the chance to wave at various friends and acquaintances. I wish I could do it over again, but hey ho.
I feel like I've only just recovered. Luckily I could throw myself into my research for the screenplay and escape to the State Library (WOW) where I disappeared in a pile of books. I am now so excited to have started the script. My first in so long. It feels great to be writing again. I can't give away anything about it (as Hamish would kill me) except to say that it's an Australian story set in the nineteenth century. Clearly an easy one to tackle after so long. Eeeek!
I finished the week with a mother daughter lunch at the Alexandra Club. It was such a funny experience, but filled with some lovely people. Most who hadn't seen me since I was tiny wee. I sat next to a woman who told me stories about her husband that made my blood run cold. Note to self - never, every marry a selfish prick who gambles all day and plays Playstation all night while you look after the kids.
Seated next to her was the wife of Charles Searby who is Ian Darling's screenwriting partner. Oh, I forgot that Ian's wonderful doc OASIS was up for a Logie but sadly didn't win. I went over to commiserate and then brought him back to our table. I also ran into Alison Wyatt and Caroline Craig at various stages of the night.
So I'm not really supposed to talk about GOGI. It's a bit like fight club. But I just have to say that I'm so glad I stuck around in Melbs for our inaugural event. I met so many brilliant people and am so excited about our next meet. I need to do more to take me outside of my comfort zone in Melbs. There are so many interesting adventures just waiting, and people to meet.
Forgot to mention an art opening for Sarah Rennolds (sorry Sarah can't remember your maiden name) who has married Steve. The Nellie Castan Gallery on River St hosted a preview last week and it was such fun to see her work. She's very talented and I'm excited to see where she goes next. It was seriously trippy running into SO many faces, many I hadn't seen since teenage years, in the one small, sweaty room. My gorgeous mate Stelllar showed up and we ended up having a fantabulous evening after.
Congrats to Steve and Sarah and the various other pregnant couples I know (some I can't mention by name). And to my cousin Charlie and his fiancee Katie - such divine news. Oh yeah, and to all those who've just had a little one (Dave and Penny, Ridders and his lady....) many congrats everybody. My what a productive time it is. I'm just trying to give birth to a script. Say a little prayer to the writing god for me. Bless you Kirst, for giving me somewhere to escape to and just write, write, write.
I'll be back when I've come up for air.
Lxxxxx
Tuesday, 5 May 2009
MY OH MY IT'S MAY!
Since my return from Sydney the time has been rushing by. First I must reflect on ANZAC day, which was very special. I haven't been in Oz for ANZAC day for a long time and for those who don't know, it's a day to honour the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. It originated as the term to represent those fighting the Turks in the Battle of Gallipoli in WWI. It has now grown to encompass other battles and wars and those of our troops still fighting for our country.
My father and I met at 4.45am to walk to the ANZAC shrine where the dawn service was to take place. There was the most incredible mixture of young and old. A friend of Dad's, Tony Charlton, has been hosting the event for over 30 years. His voice resounded over loud speakers, recounting snippets of soldier's stories, poetry and history. Tony's voice is clear and full of emotion, but so respectful and moving. It was an incredible experience standing amongst 40,000 people. The silences were heavy but the service was uplifting.
There was a shared companionship and respect that is hard to describe. Everyone there was deeply affected by the words, prayers and music (one pity is that the Welsh Choir sounded like they were strangling each other under water). I appreciated the time to reflect on both my grandfathers' great courage. My Australian grandfather was killed in the Fall of Singapore when Dad was only 2 years old. My English grandfather served in both World Wars only to die of a heart attack in his early 70s. I wish I had known these incredible men. It is so important to remember them and all of those who have fallen. Lest we forget.
I read in the paper the next day that a young boy, about 6 years old and at his first dawn service, went up to one of the old boys covered in medals and said, "Thank you for saving the world." The man replied, "You're welcome son. You just made my day." I am enjoying feeling immensely proud of my country. However, I can't say I am immensely proud of my father's football team - Collingwood aka The Magpies.
All the Macs covered themselves in black and white and went to the ANZAC day match against Essendon. I think the last time all four of us were at the footy together, might have been at the 1990 Grand Final when we beat the Bombers/Essendon. We had a nice lunch in the Harrison Room and Jack Pimm (a war veteran who played for the Magpies) was on our table as well as some other fun people. The crowd was so excitable and we had a monster match ahead. It was an amazing contest and I take full responsibility. In the last 5 minutes when we were a few goals ahead, I let myself relax and believe that we had it in the bag. The Bombers snatched the ball and escaped the jaws of defeat in the last 30 seconds. It was a very sad ending to a fantastic match. Both Dad and I had almost no voice by the end of it all.
I was absolutely shattered by the evening (post Sydney/dawn service/footy) but had to push on through for Hamish's birthday bash. We had such a fun night. All sorts of people showed up and the bar got absolutely packed. By midnight I was completely done in. Hame still doesn't believe me. I really did come home and crash. Promise!
For Hame's real birth date we had an incredible dinner at the Stoke House. It has the most delicious fish dishes and sits right on the ocean. Unfortunately it was bucketing down with the most intense rain, but it was fun being rugged up inside watching it pelt towards us.
I also had the pleasure of seeing an old school mate, Caroline Craig, walk the boards at The Arts Centre. Her play, The Bridesmaids, takes a long hard look at fidelity when two friends are forced to tell their friend, the blushing bride, that her man has been cheating on her - the night before her wedding. It stirred up some ferocious debate in the bar afterwards and I adored meeting Jacqui Weaver who plays the bride's mother. She is on her 5th husband (who joined us and is also an actor, Sean of the velvet voice) and had some pearls of wisdom to impart.
I saw an incredibly beautiful film with Mum called ELEGY, starring Penelope Cruz and Ben Kingsley. Gosh it's fun going on missions together again. We had the wind knocked out of us by the performances. It was an amazing experience and without ruining it for anyone who might read this and see it, be warned that it's very sad but so beautiful - it brought back many memories. I was gasping for air by the end.
There were only 6 people in the cinema as we went to a naughty afternoon session. When two of the women walked out, we recognised each other. One of the ladies was Kerry Gillespie, the mother of an old friend of mine called Alexis. Her father, Kerry's late husband, Wayne was one of Australia's most talented architects. It was harrowing to hear what she went through when he fell ill while on a trip in the Middle East. She had to spend 6 weeks looking after him in the most rudimentary hospital all by herself. He was too sick to move, but made a recovery and came back to Oz. Then cancer overtook his body. She is such an inspiration, as she now works in food kitchens and helps street kids.
I then had a wonderful visit to my parents' place in Flinders. I couldn't help watching the Collingwood match with Dad and this time we didn't get the Collywobbles. We beat North Melbourne convincingly and Leon Davis is my new hero. He is so small and cheeky and talented. He took a wonderful flying mark that was the highlight.
The weather at the weekend was flawless. The clearest, most divine Autumn days. Hame had organised with his great friend Jane Liscombe (Producer extraordinaire) to meet up at her parents' place in Mt Martha. We went on an incredible walk along the cliff to Mornington where we ate like kings and then explored the town. We ended up taking booze and chips and lollies (no dinner needed!!!) back to the house and dancing around singing at the top of our lungs. Livin' On A Prayer was the highlight.
Now I wish I had time to recount the Logies but I need to get on with my research into the screenplay that Hame and I are writing together. Next week I'm disappearing to Portsea to stay with an old friend and to write every day. Then Hame will come back from his American trip and rip it to pieces. Fingers crossed we end up with the start of something big. I have a great feeling about this story. I can't tell anyone about it yet, but watch this space.
Logies (the big TV awards) aftermath coming up shortly. I haven't quite recovered yet....
Lxxx
My father and I met at 4.45am to walk to the ANZAC shrine where the dawn service was to take place. There was the most incredible mixture of young and old. A friend of Dad's, Tony Charlton, has been hosting the event for over 30 years. His voice resounded over loud speakers, recounting snippets of soldier's stories, poetry and history. Tony's voice is clear and full of emotion, but so respectful and moving. It was an incredible experience standing amongst 40,000 people. The silences were heavy but the service was uplifting.
There was a shared companionship and respect that is hard to describe. Everyone there was deeply affected by the words, prayers and music (one pity is that the Welsh Choir sounded like they were strangling each other under water). I appreciated the time to reflect on both my grandfathers' great courage. My Australian grandfather was killed in the Fall of Singapore when Dad was only 2 years old. My English grandfather served in both World Wars only to die of a heart attack in his early 70s. I wish I had known these incredible men. It is so important to remember them and all of those who have fallen. Lest we forget.
I read in the paper the next day that a young boy, about 6 years old and at his first dawn service, went up to one of the old boys covered in medals and said, "Thank you for saving the world." The man replied, "You're welcome son. You just made my day." I am enjoying feeling immensely proud of my country. However, I can't say I am immensely proud of my father's football team - Collingwood aka The Magpies.
All the Macs covered themselves in black and white and went to the ANZAC day match against Essendon. I think the last time all four of us were at the footy together, might have been at the 1990 Grand Final when we beat the Bombers/Essendon. We had a nice lunch in the Harrison Room and Jack Pimm (a war veteran who played for the Magpies) was on our table as well as some other fun people. The crowd was so excitable and we had a monster match ahead. It was an amazing contest and I take full responsibility. In the last 5 minutes when we were a few goals ahead, I let myself relax and believe that we had it in the bag. The Bombers snatched the ball and escaped the jaws of defeat in the last 30 seconds. It was a very sad ending to a fantastic match. Both Dad and I had almost no voice by the end of it all.
I was absolutely shattered by the evening (post Sydney/dawn service/footy) but had to push on through for Hamish's birthday bash. We had such a fun night. All sorts of people showed up and the bar got absolutely packed. By midnight I was completely done in. Hame still doesn't believe me. I really did come home and crash. Promise!
For Hame's real birth date we had an incredible dinner at the Stoke House. It has the most delicious fish dishes and sits right on the ocean. Unfortunately it was bucketing down with the most intense rain, but it was fun being rugged up inside watching it pelt towards us.
I also had the pleasure of seeing an old school mate, Caroline Craig, walk the boards at The Arts Centre. Her play, The Bridesmaids, takes a long hard look at fidelity when two friends are forced to tell their friend, the blushing bride, that her man has been cheating on her - the night before her wedding. It stirred up some ferocious debate in the bar afterwards and I adored meeting Jacqui Weaver who plays the bride's mother. She is on her 5th husband (who joined us and is also an actor, Sean of the velvet voice) and had some pearls of wisdom to impart.
I saw an incredibly beautiful film with Mum called ELEGY, starring Penelope Cruz and Ben Kingsley. Gosh it's fun going on missions together again. We had the wind knocked out of us by the performances. It was an amazing experience and without ruining it for anyone who might read this and see it, be warned that it's very sad but so beautiful - it brought back many memories. I was gasping for air by the end.
There were only 6 people in the cinema as we went to a naughty afternoon session. When two of the women walked out, we recognised each other. One of the ladies was Kerry Gillespie, the mother of an old friend of mine called Alexis. Her father, Kerry's late husband, Wayne was one of Australia's most talented architects. It was harrowing to hear what she went through when he fell ill while on a trip in the Middle East. She had to spend 6 weeks looking after him in the most rudimentary hospital all by herself. He was too sick to move, but made a recovery and came back to Oz. Then cancer overtook his body. She is such an inspiration, as she now works in food kitchens and helps street kids.
I then had a wonderful visit to my parents' place in Flinders. I couldn't help watching the Collingwood match with Dad and this time we didn't get the Collywobbles. We beat North Melbourne convincingly and Leon Davis is my new hero. He is so small and cheeky and talented. He took a wonderful flying mark that was the highlight.
The weather at the weekend was flawless. The clearest, most divine Autumn days. Hame had organised with his great friend Jane Liscombe (Producer extraordinaire) to meet up at her parents' place in Mt Martha. We went on an incredible walk along the cliff to Mornington where we ate like kings and then explored the town. We ended up taking booze and chips and lollies (no dinner needed!!!) back to the house and dancing around singing at the top of our lungs. Livin' On A Prayer was the highlight.
Now I wish I had time to recount the Logies but I need to get on with my research into the screenplay that Hame and I are writing together. Next week I'm disappearing to Portsea to stay with an old friend and to write every day. Then Hame will come back from his American trip and rip it to pieces. Fingers crossed we end up with the start of something big. I have a great feeling about this story. I can't tell anyone about it yet, but watch this space.
Logies (the big TV awards) aftermath coming up shortly. I haven't quite recovered yet....
Lxxx
Wednesday, 29 April 2009
DIAMONDS IN THE ROUGH
The rest of my time in Sydney raced by far too quickly. I met up with many old, friendly faces. Some new mates appeared as if my magic, like Emma who was visiting from Mumbai. She and Cam were robbed in Geneva and she lost her passports and visas. She had to come back to Oz to get a new Indian visa, so we had a mini Mumbai reunion with her gorgeous mate Reesh.
Funny how fidelity is a theme that keeps popping up of late. Ems and I had a long chat about it and I just saw a play that explored its importance. More on that later though.
The uber talented Ian Darling kindly agreed to make some space for us to meet, despite the fact that he's deep in pre production on a 20 minute fiction short (he usually makes docs) that he has written, is directing and producing. He was inspired by the intricately twisted stories of the people he met when making his most recent documentary for the ABC called THE OASIS. It's an incredible film about street kids and a wonderful man called Paul (and his devoted wife) who runs a drop in centre in the middle of Sydney with the Salvos. It's extraordinary.
Ian is very humble about his achievements, but Rachael has roped him into doing a Friday On My Mind, which I'm sure will be great. He starts shooting his film very soon and I wish him and his crew the very best. Thanks for the lift Ian. He dropped me off after our meet at The Pier. My golly gosh what a fantabulous restaurant. I was treated to the most delicious meal in beautiful Rose Bay. Talk about spoilt rotten!!
The next morning I woke up Phillip Adams, who is such an old friend of my father's. They used to be the closest of colleagues and friends, and though they hardly see each other anymore, the bond is SO strong. We had agreed a time that surprised me (9.30am) as he does a late night radio show, but after ringing and ringing the bell he answered and looked utterly shattered. I told him all about my Legacy idea and the various things I'm working on and he couldn't have been more supportive. It's so encouraging to get such positive feedback, across the board, but from someone who has spent his life interviewing people and delving into real life stories, it was fascinating to get his take on how the idea might develop.
I left Phillip's incredible pad (he's into Egyptology so the house is filled with astounding figures and spears and knick knacks) with such a spring in my step, and wound my way through Paddington and into a beautiful park and somehow ended up in Rushcutters Bay. I'm always amazed when I make it where I'm supposed to be going. I have such a hideous sense of direction, so must have a map with me at all times. My worst habit it getting out of stations and talking on the phone and just walking a million miles an hour whilst chatting and not knowing where the hell I'm going. I suddenly realise that I'm utterly lost and hang up in a panic. Not an ideal habit!
Anyway, lunch was with the heavenly Murray Bell who runs Semi Permanent - a design conference that is finally coming to Melbourne later this year. He and I met through my great mate Jeremy Boxer in London and it's been fun keeping tabs on how Murray and Semi P have developed. We had a munch in the sunshine with his divine dog Bo snuffling around us.
That night I had the best fun hooning around town saying goodbye to everyone. I ended up at a random party somewhere called The Club where I danced around with a bunch of the best girls. Thank you Christine, Alice and Clare for going the distance. Not to mention everyone else who made it a wonderful send off for me. You're all gorgeous and Jo, you're so right that Icebergs is divine. I also had a ball at Darlo Bar. It brought back so many memories of when I was last in Sydney.
Sigh! Wish I had the energy to fill you in on marvellous Melbourne and what's been going on since my return but I leave that for next time. You'll have to wait to hear about the breathtaking ANZAC dawn service, the hideous Collywobbles, Hame's birthday bash, Caroline's play and more....the Logies are this Sunday. You should see the shoes I bought today for the occasion.
Lxxxx
Funny how fidelity is a theme that keeps popping up of late. Ems and I had a long chat about it and I just saw a play that explored its importance. More on that later though.
The uber talented Ian Darling kindly agreed to make some space for us to meet, despite the fact that he's deep in pre production on a 20 minute fiction short (he usually makes docs) that he has written, is directing and producing. He was inspired by the intricately twisted stories of the people he met when making his most recent documentary for the ABC called THE OASIS. It's an incredible film about street kids and a wonderful man called Paul (and his devoted wife) who runs a drop in centre in the middle of Sydney with the Salvos. It's extraordinary.
Ian is very humble about his achievements, but Rachael has roped him into doing a Friday On My Mind, which I'm sure will be great. He starts shooting his film very soon and I wish him and his crew the very best. Thanks for the lift Ian. He dropped me off after our meet at The Pier. My golly gosh what a fantabulous restaurant. I was treated to the most delicious meal in beautiful Rose Bay. Talk about spoilt rotten!!
The next morning I woke up Phillip Adams, who is such an old friend of my father's. They used to be the closest of colleagues and friends, and though they hardly see each other anymore, the bond is SO strong. We had agreed a time that surprised me (9.30am) as he does a late night radio show, but after ringing and ringing the bell he answered and looked utterly shattered. I told him all about my Legacy idea and the various things I'm working on and he couldn't have been more supportive. It's so encouraging to get such positive feedback, across the board, but from someone who has spent his life interviewing people and delving into real life stories, it was fascinating to get his take on how the idea might develop.
I left Phillip's incredible pad (he's into Egyptology so the house is filled with astounding figures and spears and knick knacks) with such a spring in my step, and wound my way through Paddington and into a beautiful park and somehow ended up in Rushcutters Bay. I'm always amazed when I make it where I'm supposed to be going. I have such a hideous sense of direction, so must have a map with me at all times. My worst habit it getting out of stations and talking on the phone and just walking a million miles an hour whilst chatting and not knowing where the hell I'm going. I suddenly realise that I'm utterly lost and hang up in a panic. Not an ideal habit!
Anyway, lunch was with the heavenly Murray Bell who runs Semi Permanent - a design conference that is finally coming to Melbourne later this year. He and I met through my great mate Jeremy Boxer in London and it's been fun keeping tabs on how Murray and Semi P have developed. We had a munch in the sunshine with his divine dog Bo snuffling around us.
That night I had the best fun hooning around town saying goodbye to everyone. I ended up at a random party somewhere called The Club where I danced around with a bunch of the best girls. Thank you Christine, Alice and Clare for going the distance. Not to mention everyone else who made it a wonderful send off for me. You're all gorgeous and Jo, you're so right that Icebergs is divine. I also had a ball at Darlo Bar. It brought back so many memories of when I was last in Sydney.
Sigh! Wish I had the energy to fill you in on marvellous Melbourne and what's been going on since my return but I leave that for next time. You'll have to wait to hear about the breathtaking ANZAC dawn service, the hideous Collywobbles, Hame's birthday bash, Caroline's play and more....the Logies are this Sunday. You should see the shoes I bought today for the occasion.
Lxxxx
Wednesday, 22 April 2009
ROCKING SYDNEY & THE ASTRAS
Sydney is such a blast. I absolutely adore this stunning city!I've been welcomed back with open arms by so many old friends and colleagues. After some initial sunshine there has been quite a bit of crazy, tropical rain but nothing can dampen my spirits right now.
Tony Barber took me to the ASTRA awards on the Fox lot. Unfortunately his divine wife Helen has been unwell, so I got to be his date!! He is not only one of the nicest men on the planet, but he's an incredible host. He knew so many interesting people and was in attendance representing TV1, who he does a lot of work for. They had a tranche of nominations, mainly for their program STUPID, STUPID MEN.
TV1 walked off with quite a few awards, so our tables got very happy. Why there have to be quite so many awards at these things I'll never know and they're always baking hot, but lots of fun. Peter Hudson (CEO of TV1) was our host and what a lovely man he is. I was lucky to be amidst a great crew and we had pole position of the main stage. One problem was that during the award presentations or performances, the waiters weren't allowed to serve booze. So we had to keep racing behind the curtain to get more wine, I crossed paths with many fun people behind the velvet curtains.
I loved the cast of MEN, particularly Leah Vandenberg who looked gorgeous in her traditional Indian dress. Of course we immediately connected about India (she's of Sri Lankan descent) and swapped many stories. Matthew Newton was racing about looking dashing and of course Tone's known him via his father Bert since he was a wee tot. Wayne Hope and I chatted over the course of the eve, I was curious that after he won the award for Best Perf by a Male Actor (beating Matt) he then got up and gave a scathing attack on Pay TV. It was funny at times, but a bit surprising given that the room was full of the top execs with fat (tish) pay cheques.
When we walked the red carpet, we chatted to the divine Miss M - that's Madga Szubanski - who looked glorious in a tight black dress, Marilyn Monroe hair and red lips. Her tap dancing routine on stage was the highlight of the night. She was presenting with Wayne during his diatribe and looked a touch surprised, but handled it well. I guess those nights need a bit of a shake up, but I doubt it will make it into the telecast later this week.
The opening number was a raucous routine by a gang of Stomp dancers. They were incredible - so energetic and fun, banging on garbage cans New York style. At the after party, I had a lovely chat to Alison Whyte (heavenly redhead) who won the Best Perf by a Female Actor for her role in the saucy SATISFACTION, caught up with Peter O'Brien after many many years (we met via the gorgeous Lisa Hensley years ago at Notting Hill Carnival) and then made a bee line for the Stomp dancers, who were carving up the dance floor. Sorry Troy, loved your breakdancing moves but I had to hit the hay!
I must mention my wonderful friend Rachael Turk who left her post as Editor of Inside Film (one of the top Aussie film mags) to pursue her own projects at the end of last year. She's hosting these brilliant nights at the AFTRS (Australia's best film school) called Friday On My Mind. I went to the last one to support her and thought it was excellent. They've got a session on SAMPSON & DELILAH coming up, which is an incredible film. It is a modern, fucked up Romeo & Juliet story, that's set in an Aboriginal township outside Alice Springs. I must say, it made me proud to come back to an industry that funds films such as this. It got major buzz at the Adelaide Film Festival, where MY YEAR WITHOUT SEX (the wonderful director Sarah Watt's new film, which Andy B has also invested in) opened the festival.
I'm also fascinated to see that there is a doc that's in post at the moment called INTO THE SHADOWS. It's about the Aussie industry and what's wrong with it. They interviewed Rachael for the film, along with BALIBO's Rob Connelly, Bruce Beresford and many more luminaries from the industry. They're exploring why audiences just don't respond (particularly in Oz) to Aussie films. There is rarely more than one break out (internationally) film a year and there should be more. It's strange, because audiences really remember the good films that have catapulted into our consciousness (KENNY & WOLF CREEK are probably the most successful of late but LANTANA, THE CASTLE, MURIEL'S WEDDING, PRISCILLA & STRICTLY BALLROOM are some of the best films made anywhere, anytime) and think the industry must be robust.
There are some good moves being made, for example I read that this year there are over 40 features coming out in Oz (almost one a week) and that's double the last few years, directly due to tax breaks. There are obviously many, many more being produced but those are films with distribution deals and that are on exhibitors' slates. I can't wait to see how people respond to Wayne Thornton's SAMPSON & DELILAH as it's a tough watch and sell, but it's pure poetry. I saw a preview screening with Andy, Matt Hearn (Producer of ROGUE, WOLF CREEK) and Julius Avery (whose short JERRYCAN has won so many accolades, particularly the Special Jury Prize in Cannes last year where I met him) and we were all blown away.
So if you get the chance to go to Rachael's Friday on My Mind or can seek out S&D, I say go and support our industry. I must get on the road as I've got lots of people to see before I leave on Friday.
Ahhh, the sun has just come out.
Divine.
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