Showing posts with label filmmakers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label filmmakers. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

border lines

I'm so jealous of those of you who could go see Anna Broinowski's doco on Norma Khouri, Forbidden Lie$, which premiered at the Adelaide Film Festival the other night. Anyone see it? Still, maybe the film will just happen to be showing in Sydney in May, as I'm heading there for a girlfriend's wedding, and to go along to the Sydney Writers Festival to hear my sister's good mate Suzanne Leal talk about her book "Border Street".
(I won't hold my breath for Broinowski's film to make its way up to Porpoise Spit...)
Might try to hook up with some Sydney bloggers then, too; if anyone's interested, let me know.

Mountain comes to Mohammed update: Ah, but I see in my local paper that the Beatels are gonna be playing Porpoise Spit on March 30. See you there, Ringo baby! Talk about the long and winding road...

Thursday, January 25, 2007

making it big

I can't resist the opportunity to drop a name. So to add to my tally of 'I knew them when's, I now have to add Peter Templeman, who has just been nominated for an Oscar for his short film. Onya, Tempsie!
Temps was a good mate of my boyfriend Jimbo's a decade ago when I lived in Perth for a year. We'd go see his band Rude Emily almost every weekend (he's a fantastic singer) and I remember the odd post-surf session sitting around Tempsie's house, chatting to him about writing. Great to see he's been doing so well with it.
I'll have to see if I can dig up any incriminating photos for New Weekly but I have a feeling Jimbo ended up with custody of all our photo negatives. Lucky for you Tempsie!

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

cinema not so paradiso

It's bad enough that the Valhalla is dead, but the Chauvel, too? I read that the Chauvel needs only an injection of $250,000 a year to survive. Doesn't seem like a lot.
People often argue that it's not the taxpayer's job to fund unpopular art institutions. Some, like the Prime Minister, go on and on about how, in the Howardian utopia, business and industry have a sense of mutual obligation and come to the party instead of taxpayers (especially on useless, uneconomical things like the Arts). Would that it were so. It'd be great to see the huge successes of Australia's film industry--the Mels, the Cates, the Nicoles, but not just the actors of course--pitch in to save the Chauvel and similar institutions. To form their own fighting funds for dying icons of their own. Or perhaps they could even raise some money some other way, with their starpower.
I mean, I'm biased because I grew up going to the Chauvel about once a week (I think my parents, as migrants, craved European stories, and as we didn't have a TV we couldn't watch SBS). But it's part of Sydney's character that we always had a lot of art-house cinemas. It's part of what always gave the city its filmic character, and its strong spirit of indie filmmaking would've arisen partly from that. And it's a film city whose culture has nurtured a helluva lot of international careers and millionaires. How much of that identity will be lost as the icons of serious film go, leaving us with only mass-movies on offer? Maybe these places don't make a lot of money and you don't get stampedes of people queueing for the films. That's not their point, though, is it? They should never be seen as being in competition with the mainstream.
I know they're only little cinemas. But they're important. They give voice to a lot of voices that don't otherwise get heard.
Anyway, the market is dynamic and trends can change. Hey, art-house cinema could even get its renaissance. But close the cinemas and there's no hope of it happening at all.