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cheekymoonfilms · 2 years

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Scientists Explain the Vengaboys

A temporal physics lecture by Cheeky Moon

Transcript:

Alastair: “Boom boom. Boom boom.”

Claire: The heartbeat of a generation.

A: We all know the Vengaboys for their humanitarian work and their geopolitical influence. So it’s sometimes easy to forget that they began as lively pop musicians.

C: 1998 was… a difficult time, for those of us who still remember. In that bleak, post-Diana, post-Seinfeld world, there was a certain void that needed filling. A certain absence of meaning. Our hearts... they longed to sing again. And then suddenly, out of the blue…

Cue music sample: Boom boom boom boom! I want you in my room Let’s spend the night together From now until forever

A: “Let’s spend the night together… from now until forever.” How can all of eternity take place in a single night, in a single room?

C: Over the course of this 12-part non-refundable seminar, we’ll be examining just how the Vengaboys’ Milli Vanillian verse fits in with our current understanding of temporal physics.

A: Ladies and gentlemen, we bring you: The Vengaboy Paradox.

A: Einstein theorised that time is relative. It can pass for each and every one of us at different speeds. Let’s say, for instance, that this room were travelling a million miles a minute. One night could pass in this room, but many years would pass to those in the outside world. This is, of course, highly improbable. Unless this room were on board the... The Vengabus.

CC: Indeed, to find the answer, we can’t just look at one song. We must factor in the broader picture the Vengaboys have been delicately brush-stroking throughout their two-album contract deal.

Cue music sample: The Vengabus is coming And everybody's jumping New York to San Francisco An intercity disco The wheels of steel are turning And traffic lights are burning

A: “The traffic lights are burning.” The thermonuclear consequences of burning traffic lights imply astonishing speeds - far beyond those of any other pop artist recorded on the Sanity Top Ten Singles Chart. Even S Club 7, another musical group well known for their non-stop parties.

Cue music sample: Don't stop movin' Can you feel the music DJ's got us goin' around (round) A: Let’s assume the S-Club party commences a-groovin while the Vengabus begins a-movin’.

C: By the time the Vengabus reaches its itinerant destination of San Francisco, a single night will have passed for its occupants. However, at traffic-light-burning speeds, let’s assume the party bus has circumnavigated the globe 70 million times. Long enough for these beautiful, dewy skinned-dancers and DJs to wind down their S Club Party and age into obscurity.

A: Indeed, to an S-Club member’s fading mortal eyesight, this party in motion will have simply vanished. One moment it’s there, now it’s gone. This unit of measurement is known to those of us in the field as an Mmmbop.

Cue music sample: In an mmmbop they're gone In an mmmbop they're not there C: And so, the eternal Vengabus party may very well span the life of an S Clubber such as Rachel, once body-rocking, now hobbling on a replacement hip.

A: Or Bradley, once jiggy with it on the d-floor, now unable to pull himself up.

C: Or Jo, who had the flow, but now just shakes her head and wonders what it was all for. The party must end for us all.

A: And yet… one must hope that the Vengabus’s wheels of steel are turning still, transporting a star selection of loose people cross country, teaching us always that time is what we make it.

C: And that one sweet day, it will take us all away into that sweet, eternal night.

#vengaboys #the vengabus #Boom Boom Boom Boom #mmmbop #s club 7 #s club #temporal physics #time travel #time travel problems #lightspeed travel #90s pop #brisbane comedy #live comedy

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fazcinatingblog · 3 months

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My boss is giving me a pay rise and I've already blown it all on five comedy shows in April and my best friend's moving overseas forever at the end of March so I need comedy to fill the Biancyes Fasolo pizza hole in my life and

#I'm seeing Claire Hooper and Melanie bracewell and Celia and Joel creasey and nina oyama & I'm sure I'll wake up and buy more tickets at 3am #see a show every night #may as well #and after the festival is over I'll just die #it'll go Taylor in Melbourne then Taylor in Sydney then Brisbane then Sydney then pink in Melbourne then comedy festival then #dead #that's it #that's me done for the year #wake me up only if Collingwood go back to back #let me die if Carlton wins

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blackcatfilmprod · 2 years

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Hi Guys, It’s been 4 years since we created my first film project Mia Morris' Diary Web Series with our team. Back then we face many challenges to complete the series and overcame them all.

Since then our web series has prospered and has received several awards & nominations for best web series. Gain a lot of outside interested in our film production from film critics and movie reviewers.

The series is about a college student Mia Morris and her friends Lucy Westwood, John Stuarts, Arthur Holmwood, Quinn and Drake as they face the forces of evil at their university campus.

Be should to revisit the series here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4bZ42WbPw40H2MaoluqEaKMV6lnrJBx0

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yesrandyandy42 · 8 months

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#melbourne #writing #lgbtq #australian #comedy #sydney #Brisbane #victoria

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the-pleasure-seekers · 1 year

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#youtube #memories #theatre #lgbtq community #brisbane #adelaide #fringe #comedy #comedian #in bed with #kylie minogue #cyndi lauper #interview #tvfilmsource #television

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morleybobsource · 1 year

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In Limbo has the pace and tone of a sitcom, but it packs an emotional punch

(!!!SPOILERS AHEAD!!!)

The snappy banter between Charlie (Ryan Corr) and Nate (Bob Morley) in the opening scenes of this comedy-drama introduces much of what you need to know about their long-time friendship. But, as with many aspects of this cleverly calibrated series, it’s also deliberately deceptive.

The scenes establish a connection between the men, illustrating a friendship that dates back to their childhood. There’s an instinctive understanding between them despite their readily discernible differences. Charlie is uneasy and uncertain, rehearsing his delivery of a eulogy for a funeral. Nate breezes in offering advice on everything from Charlie’s outfit to the desirable tone and content of his speech, as well as his chances of picking up at a funeral. He’s quick-witted, confident and funny, as vibrant as his wardrobe of shirts, and he seems to be operating at an entirely different frequency from his best pal. Everything about Charlie suggests a heaviness, a man carrying a weighty burden, and we gradually come to see him as someone who’s closed in on himself and refuses to discuss the reasons why.

Created and co-written by Lucas Taylor (Harrow, Secrets & Lies), In Limbo indicates its area of interest early: it’s about men and mental health, and one of the key points that it aims to make is that problems, and an unwillingness to discuss them, can afflict all sorts of men.

It emerges that Charlie’s marriage has collapsed, his wife, Beth (Jane Harber), has left him and he’s determinedly dodging her concerned calls and visits. And that Nate has his own issues, in spite of his upbeat manner. In Limbo is clear in its view that appearances can’t be trusted and that cheery assurances along the lines of “All good, mate” can mask deep-seated difficulties.

Over its six episodes, the series, written with crisp wit by Taylor and Tamara Asmar, develops a range of stories alongside its portrait of the core characters. A lively community grows around Charlie and Nate as we’re introduced to their families, friends and workmates, and it becomes clear that the series’ title applies to a number of characters.

What also becomes clear is that, despite its sunny Brisbane setting and light and airy tone, In Limbo is interested in dealing with a range of darker issues: depression, addiction and domestic violence. As well, it explores the shock, regret, guilt and grief that can follow a sudden death. Yet, as with the opening sequence, this is deceptive, because while In Limbo has the pace and tone of a sitcom, it can also pack a potent emotional punch. It’s a serious study wrapped in bright and shiny packaging.

Overseeing the first two episodes and managing to nail a tone that’s tricky to achieve, set-up director Trent O’Donnell (No Activity, The Letdown, Hacks, Ghosts) again displays his precision timing and gift for comedy. While economically establishing the ensemble, he keeps things fast and funny but captures the glances and gestures that are revealing of character without requiring expository dialogue. Taking over from episode three, David Stubbs (Daffodils, Girl vs Boy) seamlessly maintains those qualities.

While the series’ central concern is men, it maintains that focus without reducing the female characters to props. They’re as well-written and cast as their male counterparts. Emma Harvie delivers a nuanced performance as Nate’s wife, Freya, and Shabana Azeez is a charismatic livewire as her younger sister. And Georgina Naidu is a hoot as their mother, who flies in from London in a perfumed cloud of self-absorption. The relationship between Nate’s parents (Lena Cruz and Russell Dykstra) is also beautifully drawn, presenting a couple who’ve come to a quiet understanding of each other. Even the youngest cast member, Kamillia Rihani as Nate and Freya’s daughter, is impressive.

As they do in the opening scenes, Corr (Holding the Man, Wakefield, Ladies in Black) and Morley (The 100, Love Me) shine throughout the series, their sensitive, potent performances providing a strong foundation for the community built around them.

They do the bantering bloke stuff beautifully, portraying pals who can happily argue about which character each of them represents from Top Gun – who’s Maverick and who’s Goose? – and debating the all-time best Christmas movie: Die Hard or Gremlins?

They also underline the series’ assertion that men need to talk more – to each other, to their partners, to family and friends, and possibly also to health professionals – about their doubts and fears and difficulties, and not just about their pop-culture preferences.

In Limbo premieres on ABC, Wednesday, May 24, 9pm and iview.

#bob morley #ryan corr #in limbo #in limbo series #bobmorleyedit #the 100 cast #articles #news #ours

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samcampbellfans · 2 days

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Last few dates for Sam Campbell in Australia before jetting off to the land of the free!

26 April - Brisbane, Good Chat Comedy.

27-28 April - Brisbane, Powerhouse Theatre.

Tickets here.

#sam campbell #cambo #cambo fans #australian comedian #mcdonalds comedy #samcampbell

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princepaddy · 1 year

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‘I wanted all eyes on me’ – The OA and Shadow and Bone star Patrick Gibson on his acting pedigree

After the Netflix series that gave Patrick Gibson his break-out role was cancelled, it was no doubt tempting to jump at the next thing that came along. But the Dubliner — who has been acting since age eight — has chosen his roles carefully to forge a long-term career. It helps that he’s had his thespian parents, Lenny Abrahamson, and a clown professor to guide him.

A solidarity exists among those who survived hotel quarantine during the pandemic. On encountering a fellow detainee in the free world, an immediate bond forms over a shared experience in enforced confinement, and occasionally, so does a dynamic of oneupmanship.

“A fortnight without an open window,” I’ve smugly responded of my own quarantine episode, to those who underwent a mere week to 10 days with a terrace. “It was tough, yet strangely cathartic, and actually quite spiritual in some ways,” I then deliver with a martyred air.

Consequently, I feel completely diminished by Patrick Gibson’s multiple bouts with room-serviced captivity. “I think I did it five times,” the actor casually estimates, scratching a whiskered chin. “Once in Australia, once in America and a couple of times while going back and forth between the UK and Belgium.”

He’s unsure how long in total, something I chalk up to a coping mechanism from the residual trauma. “Maybe,” he agrees. “I mean, the days blended into each other. I did keep a video diary as a way not to lose my mind, but I’m too terrified to look back at it now. And I had it easy compared to some of my friends who’re actors. A couple I know were in and out of quarantine once a month.”

With each stint in confinement preceding an acting job, Gibson explains that all delivered the perfect duration in which to learn lines; to find a character’s motivation, and even workshop with a clown professor. Yes, you read that right — a clown professor.

“I was quarantining in Brisbane to work on a film I was shooting in Australia called The Portable Door which has a lot of physical comedy in the script, something I’ve never done. I’ve never done comedy — there’s actually nothing scarier than doing comedy because the reaction is so much more immediate. You know if you do something and people don’t laugh, you’re in trouble. It’s not as nuanced as drama.

“So I did workshops on Zoom with a clown professor. He’s an amazing movement coach teaching in one of the best drama schools in Australia. And it was about facing the fear of falling on your face, which is at the core of clowning; getting comfortable with that, not giving a shit if you make an idiot of yourself. It was actually way more philosophical than I expected. The theory of clowning is so fascinating.”

I’m disappointed with the distinct lack of clown tropes in his account of the experience: no red squeaky nose, no water-squirting flower. There must have been some slapstick involved.

“There was a physical [slapstick]. He would get a chair, give himself a simple task to unfold the chair and do a 60-minute routine, which was hilarious. And I learned from that, just doing simple things and allowing myself to flow with it. He’d have me waving my arm around, and then he’d click his fingers, and I’d be waving the other one, or my leg, or some other crazy action. Jumping up and down. Using my whole body.

“If I was being monitored [during quarantine], they’d have thought I was losing it in there.”

It’s Friday evening in Los Angeles. Gibson (27) who found fame with the Netflix cryptic fantasy series The OA, talks to me from his hotel room. “At least this one I can come and go from,” he laughs with a drawn-out titter.

He periodically repositions the camera during our video call, often at an upward angle, which for most of us would manufacture a furl of unfortunate chins, but only serves to enhance his pale, cinematic features.

The Dubliner, raised in Stillorgan and schooled at Gonzaga College in Ranelagh, is on a flying visit to meet his agents, Dar Rollins and Andrew Kurland at Creative Artists Agency (CAA), who between them represent and negotiate for screen luminaries such as Michael Keaton, Samuel L Jackson and Sarah Michelle Gellar.

I’m imagining the agency as an open-plan office, with blinding white furnishings, floor-to-ceiling views of the Hollywood sign, and skittish assistants clumsily clutching scripts and offering green juices. “Well no, not quite,” Gibson smiles.“ But we went for a coffee on a roof of some fancy hotel, which was still very LA.”

Since a breakout role as a disaffected delinquent in The OA — a supernatural, sometimes baffling series, circling near-death experiences and alternate universes — Gibson has ricocheted from sumptuous costume saga in The Spanish Queen; to Gen Z romcom In A Relationship, alongside Emma Roberts; and a West End stage debut in Lynn Nottage’s Pulitzer-winning Sweat.

Meanwhile, the fruits of his quarantine labour are set for imminent release, including a second season of Channel 4 crime series Before We Die; independent teen drama, Good Girl Jane, lauded at the recent Tribeca Film Festival and a central role in the next run of Netflix mega-hit Shadow and Bone.

As a rule, agents largely guide and counsel an actor towards success, while sometimes inadvertently steering them into failure. Does Gibson feel comfortable placing his full faith in his LA-based representatives?

“Good agents, who you feel completely at ease with, who understand your goals and what’s right for you, they will have your back. And [my agents] have my back. Right now, there’s so much content being made with all the streaming platforms, it’s important to know the next thing you’re going into is right for you. Because once you’re in, it’s a big commitment.

“Shadow and Bone, that’s six months of the year. That’s a massive project to sign on for, so it’s important to have a team of people to discuss with, feel it out. Some have their own motivations and will encourage you to work on something that serves the immediate, rather than the long-term plan. A good agent will encourage you to say no if you need to.”

At just 27 and still in the infancy of his career, is saying no to work frightening? “Saying no is scarier than saying yes but it shouldn’t be. Also, if you say no to something, people can then assume you’re not working but I don’t think it’s good to make decisions over what others might think of you.”

For Gibson, performance is in the DNA. His parents, Irish mum Kate and his dad, Richard, who was born in Uganda and raised in the UK, met and fell in love as actors on London’s West End. “One of them was doing a Noël Coward play I think, I can’t remember what the other was [doing].”

While Kate walked away from acting, ultimately transitioning into marketing, Richard continued his career on stage and screen, notably doing a 10-year stint as Nazi buffoon Herr Flick in the iconic BBC sitcom ’Allo ’Allo!.

During summer breaks from school, young Patrick and his older brother Billy played backstage during Richard’s touring stage productions, mingling with cast and crew. For Patrick, a seed was planted. “The costumes, the transformative atmosphere, the creativity — it captured my imagination.”

Gibson tagged along to his father’s theatrical agency in Dublin, communicating his desire to act. Aged eight, he landed his first commercial for Vodafone and enrolled in afterschool drama classes, the latter a futile exercise.

“I remember briefly doing Betty Ann Norton, Billie Barry [stage schools], and my parents being told, ‘This kid is not designed to be in this environment, he’s too mental’. I imagine I was incredibly annoying to teach; must have been a nightmare. I had no interest in group collaboration. I wanted all eyes on me.”

This unapologetic self-interest proved rewarding on the local audition circuit, with Gibson and his brother cast as Liam Cunningham’s sons in a 2007 RTÉ production of Maeve Binchy’s Anner House. Shot in Cape Town, it’s the only time Gibson has travelled to the African continent. While far removed from his father’s childhood home in Uganda, it gave Richard the opportunity to introduce his children to a taste of his African upbringing.

“Dad left Africa when he was 10, moved to London when his father was working there and he had a mad transition. Uganda was all he knew, and he’s told us how wonderful it was to grow up there and then he moved to the UK where it was grey and miserable. So being able to revisit Africa with us as kids was significant for him. He brought us to Kruger National Park, which isn’t in Uganda but he had been there as a child and it was a special trip for all of us.”

By the time Gibson attended Gonzaga, he had appeared in a couple of episodes of The Tudors and was a ‘lost boy’ in Neverland, Sky’s expansive adaptation of Peter Pan. “That’s where the penny dropped. That’s when I realised, ‘Yeah, I really want to do this’.”

Disappointment came with an audition for Game of Thrones’ adolescent despot Joffrey Baratheon, a role which ultimately went to Cork’s Jack Gleeson. “I was 15, maybe 16 and I know I got close. Not final two, but I got really close. But Jack was Joffrey. There’s a DNA in every part that casting directors are looking to match that up with. When you see it, it’s undeniable. I’ve had parts I don’t get because no matter how hard I work on that character, there’s somebody who matches up [more than I do].”

A successful casting for Lenny Abrahamson’s What Richard Did as an impressionable young sidekick to Jack Reynor’s titular anti-hero heightened his profile and fostered an enduring relationship with the Oscar-nominated director. Abrahamson was directly instrumental in Gibson studying philosophy at Trinity College.

“I was thinking about doing philosophy, and at the same time talking about drama school and Lenny gave me the nudge. He said: ‘If you want to be an actor for the rest of your life, do something now that’s different. And if you’re going to act for the rest of your life, philosophy demands you look at everything from every angle.’ It encourages you to analyse and assess beyond a linear point of view.”

However, Gibson struggled to balance work and college. “I missed classes, tutorials. I missed my exams two years running,” and after landing The OA in 2015 and relocating to New York for five months, his studies had to be ultimately sacrificed. “I will go back, some day,” he promises with a cackle.

The OA was a complex learning experience for Gibson. Conceived by Brit Marling and Zal Batmanglij, the creative duo behind indie efforts The East and Sound Of My Voice, the series was a psychedelic blend of comic-book fantasy and murky mystery, and hailed as being both brilliant and baffling. One critic called it, “bonkers with a vengeance,” while another dismissed it as “gripping but annoying”.

With Marling taking centre stage as a blind woman missing for seven years who reappears with her vision restored, a mysterious carving on her back and a flat-out refusal to disclose where she had been, the show amassed a keen audience who were left bereft after the shock cancellation in 2019, leaving the storyline on a cliffhanger.

Some were so disappointed they raised funds for a ‘Save The OA’ digital billboard in New York’s Times Square, with one devotee going on hunger strike outside of Netflix’s LA offices.

Gibson was deflated by the cancellation. “I got a call from Brit and Zal when I was coming back from a music festival, which was a slight buzzkill. And they said, ‘We have some sad news’. From their side, while everything in that show had been a challenging thing to make, I found the whole journey was so bizarre and magical. And it didn’t feel that out of the ordinary the way it ended. With something like Shadow and Bone, that would surprise me if it was cancelled that way but, with The OA, it felt right in a strange way.”

Shadow and Bone is Gibson’s second punt with the Netflix machine. Joining the hugely successful show in its second season, after the debut series drew in 55 million viewers in its first 28 days, long-term success appears a more likely outcome.

Adapted from a series of popular fantasy novels by Leigh Bardugo, the glossy saga boasts a central band of heroes and cads with varying degrees of magical capabilities. Starring Chronicles Of Narnia’s Ben Barnes, British-American actor Zoë Wanamaker and Irish newcomer Danielle Galligan, audiences were gripped by an interspersing, sweeping narrative framed against the battle for Ravka, a fictional realm heavily influenced by Imperialist Russia and the reign of the Tzars.

Joining the conflict is Gibson’s Nikolai Lantsov, a prince of Ravka masquerading as a pirate — a duality the actor relished. “He’s a prince and a pauper, an alter ego in disguise and he brings this massive bravado; a pirate who has this massive ship, has got this massive swagger. Kind of like Robert Downey Jr in Iron Man, he gets on people’s nerves but he’s also hard to hate. Underneath, he’s vulnerable, not given a chance by his family. It was fascinating to be able to explore both sides of that person.”

With Lantzov a standout fan favourite of the book series, the actor is keenly aware of a pressure to please with his take on the character. Unusually for an actor in his 20s, Gibson employs a veteran’s perspective to quieten such anxieties.

“With movies and TV shows, everything is talked about like it’s life and death, and it can often feel like it is, but at the end of the day, it’s not. Other people’s jobs are — some literally.”

He tells me his brother Billy — now a father of two, who works as a cardiologist in a Dublin hospital — is a massive inspiration.

“Working a 24-hour shift, then taking his kids to the pool, has a few hours off, then goes straight on to another night shift. And the stakes he’s dealing with, the health and well-being of people, their actual lives — it always puts it in perspective for me.”

Quite the effective reality touchstone, I remark. But does it always work?

“You hear actors complaining all the time. We’re the number one for it. But you know what, it’s absolutely unwarranted because to get to do this as a job is the most fortunate thing in the world. It really is. And I won’t take that for granted.”

#patrick gibson #paddy gibson #patrick gibson interview #paddy gibson interview #shadow and bone #shadow and bone cast #shadow and bone netflix #s&b #grishaverse #the oa #the oa cast #nikolai lantsov

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nintendont2502 · 1 year

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(Literally no one asked for this but I Do Not care <3)

Good Aussie Shit

Music:

Smith Street Band - rock/indie? - please for the love of God listen to them im genuinely obsessed. Playlist of my favourite songs and a concert they did with the Brisbane Symphony Orchestra

Hilltop Hoods - hiphop - iconic. If you listen to any song by them, make it The Nosebleed Section or Cosby Sweater, or basically any song from this playlist (Can't go wrong with basically anything from Drinking From The Sun/Walking Under Stars or the restrung versions)

Bliss N Eso - hiphop - like a more chill/hippie Hilltop Hoods. Might just be the nostalgia speaking but the entirety of Flying Colours or anything from this playlist are bangers

Talkshow Boy - I think a certain mutual would kill me if I didn't include them lmao. Haven't heard many of their songs (yet 👀) but I Cut Myself (or apparently any other song by them) goes hard

John Butler Trio - not sure how to describe it but the vibes are impeccable. Lots of guitar. Haven't listened to him in years but I remember really enjoying these songs

Music except I don't have specific recommendations

Alex the Astronaut - Not Worth Hiding made closeted baby gay me cry every time I heard it

Courtney Barnett - A Sea Of Split Peas is a great album and also the only one I know of hers

G-Flip - they're non-binary and a drummer and that's. All I know about them. Whenever I hear their music on Triple J it goes hard though

Baker Boy - rap - his music goes so hard - especially Marryuna. Also he raps in English + Yolngu Matha which is so cool

Aunty Donna's Big Old House Of Fun - surreal comedy/sketch show - it's on Netflix and it's great

Fisk - sitcom(?) - a lawyer who moves to a weird law firm in Melbourne. Kitty Flanagan is great in it (as she always is) - sadly it's only on ABC iView I think

Upper Middle Bogan - sitcom - a daughter of a rich middle/upper class woman finds out she's adopted, and begins connecting with her biological family, who are massive bogans. Great shit. On Netflix (in Australia at least)

Kath and Kim - sitcom - I don't know how to describe this but it's great. On Netflix (in Australia at least)

Ronny Chieng: International Student - sitcom - an international student studying law at a university in Australia. The whole thing is on YouTube for free

#i mainly made this so i could have everything i watch/listen to in one place lmao #will probably update later idk #anyway go listen to smith street band please for the love of god #masterpost #me.txt

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cheekymoonfilms · 2 years

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Thinking of leaving Brisbane for the bigger smoke of Sydney or Melbourne? Don't miss this one vital step before jumping ship.

#brisbane #leaving brisbane #all my friends are leaving brisbane #wheel of brisbane #south bank brisbane #queensland #australia #sketch comedy #comedy sketch #brisbane comedy #cheeky moon

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goldenpinof · 1 year

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I am deeply upset that I do not have the money for a ticket to the brisbane show. For the first time in my life I am in the right city, at the right time to attend, but i dont have enough money (or rather I can not justify spending $90 on a ticket to a comedy show rn)😭

oh shit, i looked at the prices. 60 euros for a seat in the back is a lot! what a robbery. i'm so sorry, anon.

#answered #phandom

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dweemeister · 1 year

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Best Animated Short Film Nominees for the 95th Academy Awards (2023, listed in order of appearance in the shorts package)

This blog, since 2013, has been the site of my write-ups to the Oscar-nominated short film packages – a personal tradition for myself and for this blog. This omnibus write-up goes with my thanks to the Regency South Coast Village in Santa Ana, California for providing all three Oscar-nominated short film packages. Without further ado, here are the nominees for the Best Animated Short Film at this year’s Academy Awards. The write-ups for the Documentary Short and Live Action Short nominees are complete. Films predominantly in a language other than English (or in two cases here, with dialogue) are listed with their nation(s) of origin.

So completes this year’s omnibus write-ups for the Oscar-nominated short films.

An Ostrich Told Me the World is Fake and I Think I Believe It (2021)

In 1953, director Chuck Jones tortured Daffy Duck with the whims of an unseen animator (revealed to be Bugs Bunny) in Duck Amuck. Fast forward almost seventy years and a film of a similar concept comes in Lachlan Pendragon’s An Ostrich Told Me the World is Fake and I Think I Believe It. Pendragon, who directed, wrote, animated, and voiced the main character this film as an undergraduate student at the Griffith Film School in Brisbane (where he is now a PhD candidate), frames hapless toaster telemarketing salesman Neil as under fire from his boss (Michael Richard) due to a lack of sales. As the workday continues, he begins to notice peculiar aspects of his fellow coworkers and the office that make him question what is going on. Accidentally sleeping at work through the night, he encounters an ostrich (John Cavanagh) in the elevator who then claims the world Neil lives in is, “a lie”. What follows is a meta-breaking, existential short film deriving its comedy from the character’s realization of the stop-motion artifice of his life.

A winner of the Student Academy Award from last year and a nominee for Best Graduation Film at Annecy (the premier animation-only film festival), Ostrich uses what I am assuming is Pendragon’s hand in place of Bugs Bunny’s glove and paintbrush. Shot entirely during the COVID-19 lockdown at home in the living room, this is a one-man animation job. For most of its ten-minute runtime, the viewers see the film through an in-film camera monitor – allowing us into Pendragon’s workspace. Meanwhile, in the background that comprises the margins of the frame, we witness the rigging, wiring, and animation handiwork that is occurring at twenty-four frames per second. The impressive character design and the clearly-delineated pop-off faces and jaws provide a remarkable assist to Ostrich’s comic timing and Neil’s acting (which Pendragon admits that Neil’s reactions take inspiration his own behavioral habits). The film’s metaphor is perhaps not as well developed, but one can make the argument that Ostrich is a blistering take on this stifling office environment and champions an exploration and investigation of all possibilities in one’s earthly life and in existence. One imagines we will see more from Pendragon, who is at the very beginning of his career and wishes to make a feature someday.

My rating: 8/10

The Flying Sailor (2022, Canada)

Making its debut last year at Annecy and from National Film Board of Canada (NFB; who, as a studio, are the second-most nominated ever in this category behind Walt Disney Animation), Wendy Tilby and Amanda Forbis’ The Flying Sailor is an experimental take of the story of Charlie Mayers. On December 6, 1917, a French cargo ship and a Norwegian merchant vessel collided in a strait called the Narrows, just off Halifax, Nova Scotia. A fire began on the former ship, which carried with it high explosives. The resulting explosion was the most violent peacetime accidental explosion ever on Earth – killing more than 1,700 and wounding around 9,000 in the immediate area and from the shockwaves. Mayers was actually onboard the deck of one of the ships, but Tilby and Forbis move him to the docks, watching on as an inquisitive spectator instead. As in real life, the blast is enough to quickly tear off all his clothes, and he spirals skyward. It is here that Tilby and Forbis send Mayers flying in slow-motion, almost balletically spinning as the film delves into his unconsciousness.

His life flashing before his eyes, we see hazy glimpses of the sailor’s memories – his childhood self at play, his mother, the rough-and-tumble life of being a sailor. Along with My Year of Dicks, The Flying Sailor is one of the first films in this category to make use of mixed media since Mémorable (2019, France). It opens with juxtaposing our hand-drawn sailor with the ships – as if in the style of the opening of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood – hurtling towards each other. But once the explosion occurs, the film, too, explodes with a clash of styles. Showcasing hand-drawn, computer-generated, and live action footage, Tilby and Forbis’ choices are reflective of the instant disorientation following the blast. The film’s penultimate moments are an orchestral cacophony from composer Luigi Allemano as the sailor returns to our earthly existence. This is perhaps the only film of these five that absolutely needed to be a short film. It presents its direction, completes its business, and concludes.

My rating: 8/10

Ice Merchants (2022, Portugal)

By earning Portugal its first-ever Academy Award nomination, João Gonzalez’s Ice Merchants – a production of the Cola Animation collective – already has a place in Oscars history. In his third film as a director following The Voyager (2017) and Nestor (2019), Gonzalez transports audiences to an impossible, dreamlike place and imbues his film with a metaphor of loss and how family routines can be an extension of grief. In a cliffside house suspended by hooks and ropes live a father and his son. Living thousands of feet above the town below, they jump off their porch daily, parachuting to safety in order to sell the ice. They return home after selling their wares and purchasing whatever they need in town by using a pulley system that probably takes ages to ascend and descend. In the rarified, chilly air, father and son go about their lives peacefully, continuing their lives amid the shadow of loss.

Garnering award wins at Cannes, the Chicago International Film Festival, and the Annies, Ice Merchants is among the most-awarded short films ever prior to an Oscar nomination. According to Gonzalez, the idea of the cliffside house came as he was dreaming or was about to fall asleep – a development that has, thus far, fully informed the visual conceits of his entire filmography. Prior to starting the formal animation for Ice Merchants, Gonzalez himself modeled the entire house (including the swing, interiors, and pulley system) 3D and started composing the score (Gonzalez is a pianist, but required his friend, conductor/orchestrator Nuno Lobo, to transpose for various instruments). Unusual in that the film’s narrative and themes spring from the score rather than the other way around, Ice Merchants adopts an everyday melancholy reflected in its strikingly limited color palette. Those colors include shades of red, orange, a dark blue or green for backgrounds only, and two brief but noteworthy instances of yellow. All these decisions – visually, musically, narratively – combine in a breathtaking conclusion that unleashes a wave of emotions. That mastery of cinematic control leads me to write something longtime readers know I do not say lightly. Ice Merchants is the best nominee in this category since Bear Story (2014, Chile) and World of Tomorrow (2015) were nominated together seven years ago. By extension, it is one of the finest animated short films of the young century.

My rating: 9/10

The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse (2022)

Adapting Charlie Mackesy’s 2019 picture book of the same name, Peter Baynton and Mackesy’s The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse made an enormous splash when it aired on BBC One on Christmas Eve as part of the BBC’s annual slate of Christmas specials. It qualified for an Academy Award nomination by virtue of a nominal one-week theatrical release in Los Angeles County on September 23, 2022. Here, the Boy (Jude Coward Nicoll) has lost his way in a wintry forest when he encounters Mole (Tom Hollander). Mole is a cheerful, friendly sort that enjoys a good cake. But the Boy believes himself to be lost, is searching for a home, and wishes to be a kind person. Along their travels they encounter starving Fox (Idris Elba) and the lonely Horse (Gabriel Byrne). For the duration of this movie, the Boy and his animal friends speak to each other in platitudes of positivity, reassurance, and perseverance for what is most likely chronic depression or seasonal affective disorder.

The Boy might just be the most beautifully drawn of this year’s nominees. Its painterly watercolor backgrounds seem as lifted from a picture book; the residual sketches on each of the characters are a beautiful expressionistic touch (I especially like the ends of the Boy’s hair and Fox’s tale, as well as the curvatures to denote Horse’s leg musculature). My sense of visual wonder lasted all but five or so minutes. Because once the Boy has a few conversations with Mole, the film’s thirty-seven minutes seem all the more interminable. The film’s dialogue – and my goodness, no one speaks like this in real life – is trite, straight from the crowd that might have a “live, laugh, love” embroidery unironically hanging on their wall. Each character appears as if they are trying to one-up the other in their AI-generated speech*, as if each Very Important Line of Dialogue is attempting to be the penultimate or final line in a children’s picture book. I understand how this might be impactful for those with major cases of depression and seasonal affective disorder, but the film’s messaging and horrific script is sheer overkill.

My rating: 6/10

My Year of Dicks (2022)

A winner at Annecy, Chicago International Film Festival, and SXSW, Sara Gunnarsdóttir’s My Year of Dicks adapts Pamela Ribon’s comedic memoir Notes to Boys: And Other Things I Shouldn’t Share in Public (Ribon is the sole screenwriter on this film). This is not about people named Richard. It is 1991 in Houston. In the first of five chapters, we find Pam (Brie Tilton) – a fifteen-year-old who wants desperately to lose her virginity sometimes this year – narrating a diary entry/letter to her first boy, David (Sterling Temple Howard, “Skater Dude” from 2020’s Two Distant Strangers). David is a skater boy who has filed his nails into sharp points and his teeth in a similar way. As one can imagine, this romance does not work out and Pam cycles through the next four chapters awash in heterosexual hijinks (some readers will interpret the use of “heterosexual” here as a pejorative, but I say it as only an observation) with Wally (Mical Trejo), Robert (Sean Stack), best friend Sam (Jackson Kelly), and Joey (Chris Elsenbroek).

Alternatively hilarious and excruciating (see: the scene where Pam’s father gives her The Talk) to watch, one-half of the film’s genius lies in Ribon’s adapted screenplay of her memoir. Ribon (a co-screenwriter on 2016’s Moana and 2018’s Ralph Breaks the Internet), who saved all of the letters she wrote to all her crushes when she was a teenager, adapts that writing to form an honest, secondhand embarrassing story. The central ideas play like a grown-up Helga Pataki from Hey Arnold!, sans used gum bust of her beloved. My Year of Dicks’ resolution is genuine, as is a non-judgmental depiction of teenage female sexuality‡. In a roundabout way, it is a deconstruction of the idea that the only way for girls to achieve full womanhood is through sex and sexual appeal. And like The Flying Sailor, My Year of Dicks employs a litany of styles of mixed media that help it succeed. Though its rough rotoscoping (a time-tested technique in which animators trace over live-action footage) is the dominant style, there are some fascinating breaks here: most interestingly, a scene involving a metaphoric angel and devil over Pam’s shoulders and interludes of shôjo anime (which probably was not on the radar of Houston teenagers in 1991). A sidesplittingly funny film, My Year of Dicks nevertheless retains a sliver of nostalgic poignancy to keep it grounded.

My rating: 8/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

From previous years: 85th Academy Awards (2013), 87th (2015), 88th (2016), 89th (2017), 90th (2018), 91st (2019), 92nd (2020), 93rd (2021), and 94th (2022).

* This begs a question. Should programmers of AI chatbots receive credit for their work when, inevitably, we have a film written by one?

‡ This line of thinking was certainly more prominent in the 1980s-2000s than it has been over the last decade, as teenage sex in the U.S. is down considerably from those times (the reasons are many).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

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yesrandyandy42 · 8 months

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Why I’m No Longer Bi-Coastal 🌴

I feel I must come out and confess. Some of you may be shocked to learn this so I apologise in advance, but the truth needs to be told. I’m bi-coastal 😳 This thought occurred to me on a recent trip away. Waiting for a train at Helensvale station in Queensland I started to reflect on the Australian cities I’d spent time living in. Which of the cities, Melbourne, Sydney or Brisbane, did I hold…

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#melbourne #writing #australian #comedy #brisbane #melbournestyle #sydney #time flies #city living

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realasslesbian · 1 year

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Was just thinkin bout that time last year when straight people were routinely assaulting lesbians at the local gay bar in the capital city of Brisbane, Australia, and absolutely no news corps, 'L'GBT or otherwise, picked it up, so I learnt about this particular incident from a comedy page that's apparently against racism and Scott Morrison, but not against making fun of lesbians being hate-crimed🙃

(for those playing at home the female in the black shirt lying on the ground at the start was randomly king hit by some straight dude in the club, breaking her nose and fracturing her jaw. That straight dude and his male and female friends were all kicked out the club, but chose to wait outside to continue their homophobic assault against lesbians)

#i stopped going here way before this happened tho #i'd been lesbophobically assaulted too many times to bother anymore #I've been groped #I've had glass thrown at me #I've had straight girls spit on me #and call me a gross dyke #and push me over #and punch me in the face #men will always follow me around this gay bar 24/7 #and if I so much as look at another female are waiting to insert themselves into that situation #i've had my drink spiked numerous times #one occasion it was a TIM i'd repeatedly told no #and I'm sure all my lesbian friends have had the same experience #so tbh it's only young dykes who go here #bc after a few rounds you realise this isn't a gay bar #it's a gay zoo for straight people to come in and gawk and harass and assault gay people #and it's just not worth it for whatever fleeting lesbian connection you can sneak past the straight men #so I gave up going #as have most other lesbians who have been out a while #but that's just the state of lesbian rights in first world countries these days #lesbian #lesbophobia #homophobia #lgbt #auspol #feminism #gold star lesbian #gold star lesbians DO interact

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qnewslgbtiqa · 2 days

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The celeb that made Mel Buttle realise she was gay

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/the-celeb-that-made-mel-buttle-realise-she-was-gay/

The celeb that made Mel Buttle realise she was gay

Each month we ask Queensland entertainers to spill the tea about themselves, their craft and the local scene. This month it’s national comedy star Mel Buttle who reveals how she got into comedy, who made her realise she was gay and what her first-ever gay bar was.

Mel was born and raised in Brisbane and is a regular on Australian radio and TV. She has appeared in I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here! Australia, The Great Australian Bake Off and recently co-hosted ABC’s Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras coverage.

Growing up in Samford, Brisbane was….

Pretty cool, if you liked playing in the creek and setting things on fire, which, surprise I did, very much. I would now kill to live out there on acreage, but as a teenager, I thought it was boring and too far away from my friends who all lived somewhere cool in the inner city. Now, I realise it’s the lesbian dream to live on a big block and grow your own veggies.

I got into comedy because…

I was a high school drama teacher, and I was always into watching the Melbourne International Comedy Festival Gala and one day I saw a flyer for a short comedy course and gave it a go. Then, I got bitten by the bug and wanted to chase the high of performing all the time. Also, sleeping in was a huge factor in my decision. I’m no good before Dr Phil’s been on.

Being a teacher taught me…

That I’m not all that interesting.

I knew I could make a career out of comedy when…

You think I can? Gosh, I’m still surprised when the phone rings.

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A post shared by MEL BUTTLE (@melindabuttle)

The best gig I did was…

In regional NSW. The whole town came, the mayor gave us a tour of the beetroot farm and we had dinner at the RSL. The gig was in the school basketball court and it went off.

The worst audience I had was…

A football club luncheon, I wasn’t experienced enough and should’ve said no.

The most famous person I’ve met is…

Hmm that’s subjective, but Matt Lucas from Little Britain was up there.

My dream gig is…

Breakfast radio and some tele show where I cook food with chefs in my pyjamas.

I knew I was a lesbian when…

I had impure thoughts about Nigella Lawson.

My first gay bar was…

Sporties in The Valley for Karaoke!

My celebrity crush is…

Hayley Raso from the Matildas, she’s a babe.

youtube

Becoming a parent is…

Doing wonders for my ability to multitask, I can now make a curry, play monster trucks and book in swimming lessons.

The inspiration behind my character Lyn is…

Every mum I’ve ever met lives in Lyn.

The joke that got me into the most trouble was…

About my pubes and Julia Gillard.

What people don’t appreciate about Brisbane is…

No one gives a shit about being fancy.

The best thing about doing comedy in regional Australia is…

The pub feeds and the yarns afterwards with the locals, my gosh the best jokes I’ve ever heard that I can’t repeat here.

Mel Buttle is currently on a national comedy tour until August. Follow @melindabuttle on Instagram for details.