In my opinion the proposed Buddhist Temple on Cactus Canyon Rd is a fine idea. Buddhism is a peaceful life concept that doesn’t hurt anyone. The temple would be a tranquil place where locals and tourists will be able to learn about a different culture and perhaps experience something new and pleasant. I mean, this whole local area has been built on multiple cultures really, hasn’t it?
But according to the Messenger newspaper on the 20th October, a grand total of 50 whole people (wow, count ‘em. 50. I’ve seen more people in the check out queue at Coles on a Sunday afternoon) packed the Sellicks community hall in a heated debate over this proposal.
A local councillor was quoted in the same article as saying the height of the 35m pagoda would be “... totally out of scale for the environment...” Well, that means we can’t build anything higher than a grapevine or one of the six remaining almond trees, then, if the environment in question is the flats of this shire. However, if I class the environment as the rolling hills of Willunga and Sellicks, then by that scale is the pagoda perhaps a little small?
Other Nay Sayers were concerned about the noise of a bell at prayer times. If a bell is too loud then we’d best put a stop to all aircraft taking off or landing at Aldinga airfield as well. Because planes are loud. Also there will need to be an enforced ban on all doof doof music that emanates from houses and passing cars, as that’s highly offensive to the ears of people over 35, including mine. Trucks must also use quieter mufflers and are to be blown up if they are caught using exhaust brakes anywhere. Oh, and I want the use of scare guns in vineyards abolished and tractors are to be outlawed and you can only use horses and carts at vintage time.
Another point that was raised is that the site would be distracting to motorists. Now, I don’t know about you, but if a stationary building in the near distance is cause for a driver to lose concentration from the task of controlling their vehicle, at great risk to themselves, passengers and other motorists, then I think these particular drivers should have their licences revoked. Does this mean that every time they drive through a city or past a bridge or a phone tower above three storeys high they suddenly become mesmerized by these structures and instantly veer off the road and crash? By this token, all advertising billboards larger than a shop front should be burned as they are designed for motorists to see them and read them whilst in the act of driving. In fact, why don’t we just use taxpayers money to build giant concrete walls like those that used to divide Germany to line South Rd so that no drivers with attention spans shorter than that of a cabbage can be distracted by those horridly intrusive and disruptive sunsets over the ocean and fields that plague us each day as well?
Is it because it’s of Asian background that this temple proposal has caused such concern? Would a Church of England building cause as much fuss? Because in case you had forgotten, anything or anyone that originated from England or a country other than this one is not actually indigenous to this area either, and therefore, no different to a Buddhist temple. The only group that would have actual right to complain should they need to would be the indigenous Australians, anyway.
Is it fear, perhaps? Read up on Buddhism as a religion or way of life, then. Not too many Buddhist extremists out there. No Buddhist monks launching a Jihad against anyone who uses cutlery and toilet paper instead of their hands. No pages of the history books about the Buddhist Crusades where armies of Monks and peasants marched across the lands raping and pillaging in the name of their God.
People travel miles to see such structures. And with them come tourist dollars for the surrounding area. Heaven forbid we have a tourist attraction that doesn’t involve excessive drinking and gluttony or a bunch of men in tights with shaved legs on push bikes. Interestingly enough, few people minded when an American place of worship was proposed and construction commenced. Actually, it received a warm welcome for the most part. Which makes me think no one would have cared about the pagoda if it had a McDonald’s sign on top of it.
Clearly, I despise racism in all its forms. And I’m not being all pious here, though. I judge people and have subconscious prejudices the same as anyone else, but I base mine on the merits of the individual, not their race or background. Were the proposal for a walled biker fortress with razor wire or a training camp for gun toting zealots, or a compound for those who force disciple s to wear blue tracksuits and new sneakers before drinking poison, then, yes folks, that would be out of line and highly negative for the area.
But it’s not. It’s for a place of peace and beauty.
And those are good things.
Monday, November 15, 2010
BLADE RUNNER - Director's Cut Review
What does it mean to be human? What is human? What is it that defines us sentient beings? These are the questions at the core of Ridley Scott’s sci-fi noir classic, Blade Runner.
On its initial release in 1982, the film failed. People didn’t understand it; they didn’t like the last minute voice over narration or the drive off into the country- side ending. So in 1991, the Director’s Cut version of the film was released with out the narration, and with several important improvements to the edit. This is the version we are looking at here, as it was this one that turned things around and renewed interest and excitement for the story, and in my opinion, is one of the best examples of the sci- fi genre.
The special effects all pre date the modern CGI and are far more effective as a result. Where today’s films rely on these overblown and overused extravagant scenes of wonder, Blade Runner’s 21st century future Los Angeles, with all it’s huge buildings and flying cars, is an illusion created by the skilled use of models and wires and matte paintings on glass. These effects shots evoke a far more engaging and hypnotic mood because of their subtleties than that of their modern counterparts.
The production is brilliant: the rain falling in the neon lit streets sends chills down your spine and combined with Vangelis’ truly haunting electronic score causes goose bumps on your arms. The mood is that tangible.
Although based on the Philip K. Dick novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, it is the vision of director Scott and the plethora of screen writers who were involved that have created an intelligent and possibly prophetic vision of the now near future. From hints at climate change, (it’s always raining) and globalisation, the environment on screen is never too implausible to relate to, now.
Harrison Ford is superb as the Blade Runner himself, Deckard, and Rutger Hauer plays the best role of his career in the lead Replicant, Roy Batty. It is between these two that the moral question lies: what is human? Deckard is cold, calculating and dispatches death upon his quarry without hesitation, like a machine. Batty, who is labelled the “baddie” of the piece, is animated, articulate and poetic. He is confronted with the fact that he is destined to die and so he questions his maker, in this case a robotics corporation, as humans would question their God from their deathbed. Batty’s actions may be wrong and deserve swift justice, he has killed, of course, but that is his crime to be punished, as it would be for a human. Not for having the desire to live.
The cast is rounded out by Sean Young as the beautiful Replicant Racheal, so advanced she isn’t aware she isn’t human; Darryl Hannah as rogue Replicant Pris and Edward James Olmos as the mysterious Gaff.
It’s poetry in motion, but not everyone likes poetry. There is much ambiguity and the audience needs to fill in some of the blanks, but this is intelligent film making. You don’t want to be spoon-fed a story like it was yoghurt to an infant, you want to use some of your imagination, to think and to engage with the characters and make your own assessment of them and the meanings and interpret what transpires before you.
After all, that’s only human.
On its initial release in 1982, the film failed. People didn’t understand it; they didn’t like the last minute voice over narration or the drive off into the country- side ending. So in 1991, the Director’s Cut version of the film was released with out the narration, and with several important improvements to the edit. This is the version we are looking at here, as it was this one that turned things around and renewed interest and excitement for the story, and in my opinion, is one of the best examples of the sci- fi genre.
The special effects all pre date the modern CGI and are far more effective as a result. Where today’s films rely on these overblown and overused extravagant scenes of wonder, Blade Runner’s 21st century future Los Angeles, with all it’s huge buildings and flying cars, is an illusion created by the skilled use of models and wires and matte paintings on glass. These effects shots evoke a far more engaging and hypnotic mood because of their subtleties than that of their modern counterparts.
The production is brilliant: the rain falling in the neon lit streets sends chills down your spine and combined with Vangelis’ truly haunting electronic score causes goose bumps on your arms. The mood is that tangible.
Although based on the Philip K. Dick novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, it is the vision of director Scott and the plethora of screen writers who were involved that have created an intelligent and possibly prophetic vision of the now near future. From hints at climate change, (it’s always raining) and globalisation, the environment on screen is never too implausible to relate to, now.
Harrison Ford is superb as the Blade Runner himself, Deckard, and Rutger Hauer plays the best role of his career in the lead Replicant, Roy Batty. It is between these two that the moral question lies: what is human? Deckard is cold, calculating and dispatches death upon his quarry without hesitation, like a machine. Batty, who is labelled the “baddie” of the piece, is animated, articulate and poetic. He is confronted with the fact that he is destined to die and so he questions his maker, in this case a robotics corporation, as humans would question their God from their deathbed. Batty’s actions may be wrong and deserve swift justice, he has killed, of course, but that is his crime to be punished, as it would be for a human. Not for having the desire to live.
The cast is rounded out by Sean Young as the beautiful Replicant Racheal, so advanced she isn’t aware she isn’t human; Darryl Hannah as rogue Replicant Pris and Edward James Olmos as the mysterious Gaff.
It’s poetry in motion, but not everyone likes poetry. There is much ambiguity and the audience needs to fill in some of the blanks, but this is intelligent film making. You don’t want to be spoon-fed a story like it was yoghurt to an infant, you want to use some of your imagination, to think and to engage with the characters and make your own assessment of them and the meanings and interpret what transpires before you.
After all, that’s only human.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
The Other Man Review
LIAM NEESON LAURA LINNEY
ANTONIO BANDERAS DIR. RICHARD EYRE
DRAMA 2008
Romance? Thriller? Taken meets The
Talented Mr Ripley? Well, yes actually.
In this latest ‘affair’ from director Richard Eyre, (of Notes on a Scandal fame) Peter (Neeson), a wealthy and successful software designer must come to terms with the fact that his wife Lisa (Linney) may have been unfaithful to him when overseas.
Loving husband that he is, Peter is
determined to identify the other man and follows the clues to
exquisite Milan to track him down and confront him.
The Other Man in question turns out to be the dashing Rafe, (Banderas) a man of the world who, as Peter discovers, may not be all that he seems.
Or is any of it as it seems?
Liam Neeson has come a long way from guest spots on Miami Vice and here gives another emotional and engaging performance as a stable, confident husband unravelling in his pursuit of the truth and reasons behind his wife’s infidelity and what it means to their marriage.
Laura Linney doesn’t give too much away as Lisa, but is
convincing in her portrayal of a woman in love with two men, but in different ways for different reasons. She maintains a level of grace, integrity and dignity throughout, not traits usually
attributed to the typical “cheating wife” character.
According to my wife, Antonio is perfect casting for Rafe,
because if a woman was going to stray, you could do worse than Antonio Banderas... Here he is still likeable, not quite Puss in Boots, but it is hard to dislike him, and even in some parts he even evokes sympathy. Rafe is a layered role which Banderas handles with aplomb.
Shot in shades of grey, perhaps to represent the lack of clear black and white side to this tale, The Other Man is a story about
knowing someone well, and loving someone so much that you cant bear to hurt them, even if that means hiding something from them.
This one will raise a number of questions and discussions within relationships, and many will not agree with some of the outcomes in the film, of course. However The Other Man is not a tawdry Indecent Proposal piece of drivel, but an emotive piece on acceptance and unconditional love.
ANTONIO BANDERAS DIR. RICHARD EYRE
DRAMA 2008
Romance? Thriller? Taken meets The
Talented Mr Ripley? Well, yes actually.
In this latest ‘affair’ from director Richard Eyre, (of Notes on a Scandal fame) Peter (Neeson), a wealthy and successful software designer must come to terms with the fact that his wife Lisa (Linney) may have been unfaithful to him when overseas.
Loving husband that he is, Peter is
determined to identify the other man and follows the clues to
exquisite Milan to track him down and confront him.
The Other Man in question turns out to be the dashing Rafe, (Banderas) a man of the world who, as Peter discovers, may not be all that he seems.
Or is any of it as it seems?
Liam Neeson has come a long way from guest spots on Miami Vice and here gives another emotional and engaging performance as a stable, confident husband unravelling in his pursuit of the truth and reasons behind his wife’s infidelity and what it means to their marriage.
Laura Linney doesn’t give too much away as Lisa, but is
convincing in her portrayal of a woman in love with two men, but in different ways for different reasons. She maintains a level of grace, integrity and dignity throughout, not traits usually
attributed to the typical “cheating wife” character.
According to my wife, Antonio is perfect casting for Rafe,
because if a woman was going to stray, you could do worse than Antonio Banderas... Here he is still likeable, not quite Puss in Boots, but it is hard to dislike him, and even in some parts he even evokes sympathy. Rafe is a layered role which Banderas handles with aplomb.
Shot in shades of grey, perhaps to represent the lack of clear black and white side to this tale, The Other Man is a story about
knowing someone well, and loving someone so much that you cant bear to hurt them, even if that means hiding something from them.
This one will raise a number of questions and discussions within relationships, and many will not agree with some of the outcomes in the film, of course. However The Other Man is not a tawdry Indecent Proposal piece of drivel, but an emotive piece on acceptance and unconditional love.
Young Drivers
A couple of weeks ago now, it was Fathers Day.
I was lucky enough to receive bacon, eggs and a steaming cup of coffee from my family. But there was another family whom
instead received news that their son had been killed in a horrific car “accident”.
I cannot begin to imagine the pain that boy’s family felt and is still feeling. My heart goes out to them. They have my sincerest condolences. No parent should ever have to bury their child. Ever.
Tragedy is something we can’t avoid. I knew a girl back many years ago, who for her twenty first birthday present, died from the cancer that had rapidly riddled her body.
Tragic accidents and events occur every day.
They are unavoidable. But tragedy as a result of pure selfish stupidity is not an accident.
It is negligence.
I would like to think that the boy was driving in a manner to suit the wet conditions and undulating road. That he had not had a drop of alcohol all night. That he wasn’t doing double the speed limit.
That he was taking all necessary precautions possible and doing his best to ensure the safety of his four friends as he controlled the vehicle.
But we all know what happened by now. The speeds that were reached. That caution wasn’t exercised.
And the price that has been paid.
Also spare a thought for the motorist who found the wreckage. No doubt he still sees it sometimes when he closes his eyes. And the police officers that have to attend these crashes time and time again. To try and remain calm and objective in the face of a scene that most people of this era don’t often, if ever, have to deal with. And then there is their unenviable task of informing the families.
Think also about the medical staff, from the ambulance officers to the surgeons and nurses, who have to try and work miracles and repair damage that should never have been done.
.
So how best to avoid this in the future? We can’t implant experience in to young drivers. It has to be gained themselves. And that’s dangerous. I don’t think the new and well overdue “high power” vehicle restrictions for learner and probationary drivers is enough. As far as I can tell, it just means that new drivers cant have a turbo or supercharger, nor an engine of eight cylinders or more. It is fact that a four cylinder standard Corolla can exceed 130kph, and that when it does it certainly isn't handling well. So it would still be dangerous and a crash waiting to happen in the hands of an over confident, fearless P plater. There needs to be definitive engine output restrictions also. Nothing over 90 odd kilowatts, perhaps?
Now, yes, this reduces the choice of vehicle for a young person just starting out in the world and spreading their wings. So then why not use some of our registration and stamp duty taxes to have speed limiters fitted to “P” plate cars as another option?
Automobile manufacturers have been fitting them for years where an engines performance is beyond the handling capabilities of the car itself.
And if Stevo’s older brother happens to be an auto electrician who could take it off for a carton of beer, then the penalty for illegal tampering with a limiter should involve jail time.
When the kid passes another test later and is handed their full license, then they take the car to the RAA or wherever and the limiter is professionally removed.
It’ll cost money, but don’t we value our kids more?
Perhaps I sound too harsh and out of touch. Maybe. But my son is on his “L” plates and I trust him completely, but I would have no hesitation were these restrictions applied to him. In fact, I have applied restrictions within our home in relation to his driving arrangements. We have raised him to be responsible and to respect the fact that a motor vehicle is not a plaything but a dangerous, deadly weapon if misused. the same as my old man drilled into me back in the day.
I trust our son but there is no way in Hell that I’d let him behind the wheel of a V8 Commodore until he has a lot more experience under his belt.
Our kids have to be responsible for their actions in the end, of course, but it’s my responsibility now to make sure he doesn’t even get the means to drive at 180kmh at his age.
It’s my responsibility to have at least some idea where he is at 4 ‘o clock in the morning.
It’s my role to love, to teach and to guide our son into adulthood.
And I feel truly awful for the parents who have just had that ripped away from them...
I was lucky enough to receive bacon, eggs and a steaming cup of coffee from my family. But there was another family whom
instead received news that their son had been killed in a horrific car “accident”.
I cannot begin to imagine the pain that boy’s family felt and is still feeling. My heart goes out to them. They have my sincerest condolences. No parent should ever have to bury their child. Ever.
Tragedy is something we can’t avoid. I knew a girl back many years ago, who for her twenty first birthday present, died from the cancer that had rapidly riddled her body.
Tragic accidents and events occur every day.
They are unavoidable. But tragedy as a result of pure selfish stupidity is not an accident.
It is negligence.
I would like to think that the boy was driving in a manner to suit the wet conditions and undulating road. That he had not had a drop of alcohol all night. That he wasn’t doing double the speed limit.
That he was taking all necessary precautions possible and doing his best to ensure the safety of his four friends as he controlled the vehicle.
But we all know what happened by now. The speeds that were reached. That caution wasn’t exercised.
And the price that has been paid.
Also spare a thought for the motorist who found the wreckage. No doubt he still sees it sometimes when he closes his eyes. And the police officers that have to attend these crashes time and time again. To try and remain calm and objective in the face of a scene that most people of this era don’t often, if ever, have to deal with. And then there is their unenviable task of informing the families.
Think also about the medical staff, from the ambulance officers to the surgeons and nurses, who have to try and work miracles and repair damage that should never have been done.
.
So how best to avoid this in the future? We can’t implant experience in to young drivers. It has to be gained themselves. And that’s dangerous. I don’t think the new and well overdue “high power” vehicle restrictions for learner and probationary drivers is enough. As far as I can tell, it just means that new drivers cant have a turbo or supercharger, nor an engine of eight cylinders or more. It is fact that a four cylinder standard Corolla can exceed 130kph, and that when it does it certainly isn't handling well. So it would still be dangerous and a crash waiting to happen in the hands of an over confident, fearless P plater. There needs to be definitive engine output restrictions also. Nothing over 90 odd kilowatts, perhaps?
Now, yes, this reduces the choice of vehicle for a young person just starting out in the world and spreading their wings. So then why not use some of our registration and stamp duty taxes to have speed limiters fitted to “P” plate cars as another option?
Automobile manufacturers have been fitting them for years where an engines performance is beyond the handling capabilities of the car itself.
And if Stevo’s older brother happens to be an auto electrician who could take it off for a carton of beer, then the penalty for illegal tampering with a limiter should involve jail time.
When the kid passes another test later and is handed their full license, then they take the car to the RAA or wherever and the limiter is professionally removed.
It’ll cost money, but don’t we value our kids more?
Perhaps I sound too harsh and out of touch. Maybe. But my son is on his “L” plates and I trust him completely, but I would have no hesitation were these restrictions applied to him. In fact, I have applied restrictions within our home in relation to his driving arrangements. We have raised him to be responsible and to respect the fact that a motor vehicle is not a plaything but a dangerous, deadly weapon if misused. the same as my old man drilled into me back in the day.
I trust our son but there is no way in Hell that I’d let him behind the wheel of a V8 Commodore until he has a lot more experience under his belt.
Our kids have to be responsible for their actions in the end, of course, but it’s my responsibility now to make sure he doesn’t even get the means to drive at 180kmh at his age.
It’s my responsibility to have at least some idea where he is at 4 ‘o clock in the morning.
It’s my role to love, to teach and to guide our son into adulthood.
And I feel truly awful for the parents who have just had that ripped away from them...
Schapelle Corby article - Coastal Views magazine Sept 2010
Original Writing date 9th August 2010
Recently it was reported that Schapelle Corby, convicted somehow of drug trafficking in Bali, has suffered a mental break after years in Kerobokan Prison. It could be that she receives clemency from the court and their may be a reduction in her sentence. Maybe. This prompted me to do a bit of reading on her situation. After trawling the internet and reading her book “My Story”, I found myself feeling drained and helplessly frustrated for her. Yes, a 4.2 kilo bag of marijuana was found in her boogie board bag after she voluntarily showed it to Balinese Customs officers. But other than that, there was not a shred of evidence to indicate it was hers and not planted. Fingerprints were not taken. Airport security footage from Sydney Airport, from which she departed Australia, was destroyed. Baggage was not weighed on arrival and compared against its departure weight. Testimonies from other parties indicating her innocence were ignored; including that said airport had workers with criminal histories and was being looked at by Australian Federal Police previously. None of this was factored in. She didn’t stand a chance from the start. She was to be used as an example, guilty or not.
There was a public outcry in Australia when Corby was sentenced to 20 years for trafficking by the Balinese kangaroo court. The Australian government, I believe, did have some kind of dialogue with the Indonesian government and at one stage it looked like Schapelle was going to be allowed to serve out her sentence in Australia in some type of prisoner exchange, but the Indonesians suddenly became uncooperative and the deal was off. Because they are making shed-loads of money out of having Schapelle locked up in their prison, with media parasites exploiting her by paying for photos of her that they can sell on to Woman’s Day and all the other gossip rags.
And so that was that, then. Forget it.
And this is the crux of this column; Australia asked a favour of its tiny neighbor. A neighbor that receives aid money from Australia and a substantial chunk of tourism as well. Yet, they were unwilling to accommodate an important request. Worse yet, Australia appeared to have not taken umbrage to that. Prime Minister at the time Howard didn’t seem to do anything further at all. Oh well, tried. Off for a jog now, in my patriotic tracksuit…
Don’t get me wrong, I am not falling for any “Schapelle Hype”, (Gossip mags and sensationalist news programs are best avoided when you want facts) I am fully aware that there are many Aussies imprisoned overseas who don’t receive nearly so much media attention as Corby. But if you take the Bali Nine, for example, they were actually caught with drugs on them. That can’t be planted and there was a heck of a lot more evidence. Even the bird who nicked the bar mat was in fact guilty of the act.
Alexander Downer wrote an article last year in the Advertiser indicating that Australians overseas should be responsible for their own actions and have to accept the foreign countries laws and customs and abide by them. If you don’t, then you are on your own. Hey, I agree with Al. One hundred per cent.
But Corby’s case was dodgy from the get go. And we all know that if it was Downer’s kid locked in a Bali jail when he was Foreign Minister, or even Steve now for that matter, then there would have been an SAS strike to free her, as if it were an act of war.
‘Cos I would have for my kid. Everything changes when it’s in your own backyard.
And in this Pacific region back yard, Australia is the top dog. I’m not being biased; just look at the others. Whenever anything goes wrong, like in Fiji or East Timor for example, it is Australia that is expected to go in and get it sorted. And that’s fine, it’s a privilege. So long as these islands and smaller nations respect this and reciprocate appropriately.
But it seems that Australia is not respected anymore. And the people we have elected to power are reluctant to use it, unless asked to by an American.
So it seems that not only can Bali take aid and tourism dollars but it can also incarcerate our citizens without proper trial on trumped up charges, without evidence and even make a profit from them. And no one does anything about it.
PM Julia Gillard apparently is supportive of a clemency decision for Schapelle. But by the time this has gone to print and you are actually reading it, we will have had an election…. And being supportive is along way from a decisive action. Who knows maybe a female Prime Minister would be man enough to stand up for our nation and demand results?
But I will leave you with these thoughts; imagine yourself (or your sister or your daughter or any loved one, for that matter) locked up for years for something you didn’t do, that someone else did, and is getting away with it…
Imagine mentally reliving everyday, that fateful moment when you opened up your bag in a foreign airport to find it full of drugs that you didn’t put in there. Imagine being in a tiny disgusting cell, during the prime of your life when you were supposed to be out living and having fun. Imagine knowing the world had violated what was your life and turned it into nothing more than a story for magazines. Your old life was gone but everyone else’s was going on without you. Imagine knowing your mind is beginning to crack and there was nothing you could do about it because you were wrongly trapped in a prison with no one to help you.
So, how does it feel?
Recently it was reported that Schapelle Corby, convicted somehow of drug trafficking in Bali, has suffered a mental break after years in Kerobokan Prison. It could be that she receives clemency from the court and their may be a reduction in her sentence. Maybe. This prompted me to do a bit of reading on her situation. After trawling the internet and reading her book “My Story”, I found myself feeling drained and helplessly frustrated for her. Yes, a 4.2 kilo bag of marijuana was found in her boogie board bag after she voluntarily showed it to Balinese Customs officers. But other than that, there was not a shred of evidence to indicate it was hers and not planted. Fingerprints were not taken. Airport security footage from Sydney Airport, from which she departed Australia, was destroyed. Baggage was not weighed on arrival and compared against its departure weight. Testimonies from other parties indicating her innocence were ignored; including that said airport had workers with criminal histories and was being looked at by Australian Federal Police previously. None of this was factored in. She didn’t stand a chance from the start. She was to be used as an example, guilty or not.
There was a public outcry in Australia when Corby was sentenced to 20 years for trafficking by the Balinese kangaroo court. The Australian government, I believe, did have some kind of dialogue with the Indonesian government and at one stage it looked like Schapelle was going to be allowed to serve out her sentence in Australia in some type of prisoner exchange, but the Indonesians suddenly became uncooperative and the deal was off. Because they are making shed-loads of money out of having Schapelle locked up in their prison, with media parasites exploiting her by paying for photos of her that they can sell on to Woman’s Day and all the other gossip rags.
And so that was that, then. Forget it.
And this is the crux of this column; Australia asked a favour of its tiny neighbor. A neighbor that receives aid money from Australia and a substantial chunk of tourism as well. Yet, they were unwilling to accommodate an important request. Worse yet, Australia appeared to have not taken umbrage to that. Prime Minister at the time Howard didn’t seem to do anything further at all. Oh well, tried. Off for a jog now, in my patriotic tracksuit…
Don’t get me wrong, I am not falling for any “Schapelle Hype”, (Gossip mags and sensationalist news programs are best avoided when you want facts) I am fully aware that there are many Aussies imprisoned overseas who don’t receive nearly so much media attention as Corby. But if you take the Bali Nine, for example, they were actually caught with drugs on them. That can’t be planted and there was a heck of a lot more evidence. Even the bird who nicked the bar mat was in fact guilty of the act.
Alexander Downer wrote an article last year in the Advertiser indicating that Australians overseas should be responsible for their own actions and have to accept the foreign countries laws and customs and abide by them. If you don’t, then you are on your own. Hey, I agree with Al. One hundred per cent.
But Corby’s case was dodgy from the get go. And we all know that if it was Downer’s kid locked in a Bali jail when he was Foreign Minister, or even Steve now for that matter, then there would have been an SAS strike to free her, as if it were an act of war.
‘Cos I would have for my kid. Everything changes when it’s in your own backyard.
And in this Pacific region back yard, Australia is the top dog. I’m not being biased; just look at the others. Whenever anything goes wrong, like in Fiji or East Timor for example, it is Australia that is expected to go in and get it sorted. And that’s fine, it’s a privilege. So long as these islands and smaller nations respect this and reciprocate appropriately.
But it seems that Australia is not respected anymore. And the people we have elected to power are reluctant to use it, unless asked to by an American.
So it seems that not only can Bali take aid and tourism dollars but it can also incarcerate our citizens without proper trial on trumped up charges, without evidence and even make a profit from them. And no one does anything about it.
PM Julia Gillard apparently is supportive of a clemency decision for Schapelle. But by the time this has gone to print and you are actually reading it, we will have had an election…. And being supportive is along way from a decisive action. Who knows maybe a female Prime Minister would be man enough to stand up for our nation and demand results?
But I will leave you with these thoughts; imagine yourself (or your sister or your daughter or any loved one, for that matter) locked up for years for something you didn’t do, that someone else did, and is getting away with it…
Imagine mentally reliving everyday, that fateful moment when you opened up your bag in a foreign airport to find it full of drugs that you didn’t put in there. Imagine being in a tiny disgusting cell, during the prime of your life when you were supposed to be out living and having fun. Imagine knowing the world had violated what was your life and turned it into nothing more than a story for magazines. Your old life was gone but everyone else’s was going on without you. Imagine knowing your mind is beginning to crack and there was nothing you could do about it because you were wrongly trapped in a prison with no one to help you.
So, how does it feel?
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
BRAN NUE DAE - Review
Filmed in Western Australia and set there in 1969, Bran Nue Dae is a bright and colourful adaptation of the original stage musical.
Marketed as a heart warming and funny sing-along musical, Bran Nue Dae is in fact very much a cleverly layered political and historical commentary on life for Indigenous Australians during the indoctrination of Christian ways by the white occupiers.
It doesn’t preach at the viewer, but allows a knowing nod to what went on, with subtle nudges throughout, such as the musical number “Nothing I’d Rather Be Than An Aborigine”. Not only is it a catchy tune, but also a very insightful expression of Aboriginal feeling when you really listen to Jimmy Chi’s lyrics.
Casting for such a film is vitally important, and director Rachel Perkins has succeeded for the most part, with Ernie Dingo’s Uncle Tadpole being a favourite. His singing is impressive and his comedic timing and expression is excellent.
Missy Higgins has a great time as a Buddhist Hippy traveling Oz by Kombi and she gets to spout some of the best lines in the film.
Jessica Mauboy looks lovely as Rosie, and shows great acting potential, but it’s her amazingly smooth singing voice that she shines with here. She could sing the words off of a road sign and they would sound good.
Rocky McKenzie in the lead role of Willy, whose journey we are essentially following, is however, sadly overshadowed by his cast mates in every scene, even by the very overdone and cartoon like Geoffrey Rush as Father Benedictus. McKenzie is also not credited as having actually sung any of the musical pieces in his scenes either. Perhaps a stronger performer in this role would have been more effective, but perhaps it is because of this that we empathize with Willy as the underdog, thus wishing him on to success and a happy resolution by the film’s end. You be the judge.
This film should become an Oz classic; it’s vastly superior to tripe like Priscilla, and in a far more understated and humbler way.
So if you’re after something up-beat and feel -good, but without that layer of sugary sweet treacle that spoils such fare as Mama Mia!, then get hold of Bran Nue Dae. Nowhere else have I seen an Aboriginal football team riding on the back of an old flatbed truck dancing to Zorba the Greek or a young German -Aboriginal hippy called Wolfgang.
Marketed as a heart warming and funny sing-along musical, Bran Nue Dae is in fact very much a cleverly layered political and historical commentary on life for Indigenous Australians during the indoctrination of Christian ways by the white occupiers.
It doesn’t preach at the viewer, but allows a knowing nod to what went on, with subtle nudges throughout, such as the musical number “Nothing I’d Rather Be Than An Aborigine”. Not only is it a catchy tune, but also a very insightful expression of Aboriginal feeling when you really listen to Jimmy Chi’s lyrics.
Casting for such a film is vitally important, and director Rachel Perkins has succeeded for the most part, with Ernie Dingo’s Uncle Tadpole being a favourite. His singing is impressive and his comedic timing and expression is excellent.
Missy Higgins has a great time as a Buddhist Hippy traveling Oz by Kombi and she gets to spout some of the best lines in the film.
Jessica Mauboy looks lovely as Rosie, and shows great acting potential, but it’s her amazingly smooth singing voice that she shines with here. She could sing the words off of a road sign and they would sound good.
Rocky McKenzie in the lead role of Willy, whose journey we are essentially following, is however, sadly overshadowed by his cast mates in every scene, even by the very overdone and cartoon like Geoffrey Rush as Father Benedictus. McKenzie is also not credited as having actually sung any of the musical pieces in his scenes either. Perhaps a stronger performer in this role would have been more effective, but perhaps it is because of this that we empathize with Willy as the underdog, thus wishing him on to success and a happy resolution by the film’s end. You be the judge.
This film should become an Oz classic; it’s vastly superior to tripe like Priscilla, and in a far more understated and humbler way.
So if you’re after something up-beat and feel -good, but without that layer of sugary sweet treacle that spoils such fare as Mama Mia!, then get hold of Bran Nue Dae. Nowhere else have I seen an Aboriginal football team riding on the back of an old flatbed truck dancing to Zorba the Greek or a young German -Aboriginal hippy called Wolfgang.
MAO'S LAST DANCER - Review
Based on the 2004 autobiography of Li Cunxin, Mao’s Last Dancer is at first, a film sitting somewhere between Billy Elliot and Red Corner, but it doesn’t take too long to reveal itself as a sophisticated bio-pic.
After the early “fish out of water” scenes, we are soon asked to examine opposing political/social ideologies and how they ultimately affect both our individual freedoms and that of a society, or a people, as a whole. Don’t worry, there isn’t any lecturing or haranguing, just the viewpoint of a man in the middle of a very serious choice.
Played by Chi Cao as an adult, Li Cunxin is somewhat naive to the ways of the world, but is endearing to us because of this, and for the most part we remain sympathetic to his position as he grows and changes, faults and all. Also noteworthy is the performance by Huang Wen Bin as the child Li in China, and the transitions for Cunxin ageing and getting stronger are exceptional in their subtlety and smoothness. Most performances are solid, though some cast members are clearly dancers as opposed to actors, and all work together superbly. The sequence set in the Chinese Consulate is particularly engaging, except for the poor casting choice of Jack Thompson as a US judge. To an Australian audience, he is too jarring and breaks the connection with the story on screen.
Joan Chen is brilliant as Li’s mother: strong and loyal to her country, but there is nothing as strong as a true mothers love for her children.
Elizabeth, Li’s first wife and played here by Amanda Schull, is one of the most important people in his life and instrumental in Li’s success, but is ultimately given the short end of the stick. Nothing tragic, but you’ll see what I mean…
The dancing is highly impressive, by star Cao and also members of the Australian Ballet and the Sydney Dance Company. Even those whom are not in to ballet will agree to the incredible level of fitness and talent on display here. The music of Christopher Gordon too, is delicate and seeps through the film in an aural blend of east and west.
Part filmed in Sydney, however it’s the beautiful landscapes of China that catch the breath, with the exquisite mountain ranges providing a majestic backdrop to the humble village of Li’s childhood.
Aussie director Beresford’s style works; he even uses a mandatory training montage and there’s enough slow- mo to make even John Woo proud!
A strong story about following your heart and your dreams and that hard choices aren’t made without cost. We also learn that be they Communist or capitalist, kids find flatulence funny the world over.
Have some dumplings.
After the early “fish out of water” scenes, we are soon asked to examine opposing political/social ideologies and how they ultimately affect both our individual freedoms and that of a society, or a people, as a whole. Don’t worry, there isn’t any lecturing or haranguing, just the viewpoint of a man in the middle of a very serious choice.
Played by Chi Cao as an adult, Li Cunxin is somewhat naive to the ways of the world, but is endearing to us because of this, and for the most part we remain sympathetic to his position as he grows and changes, faults and all. Also noteworthy is the performance by Huang Wen Bin as the child Li in China, and the transitions for Cunxin ageing and getting stronger are exceptional in their subtlety and smoothness. Most performances are solid, though some cast members are clearly dancers as opposed to actors, and all work together superbly. The sequence set in the Chinese Consulate is particularly engaging, except for the poor casting choice of Jack Thompson as a US judge. To an Australian audience, he is too jarring and breaks the connection with the story on screen.
Joan Chen is brilliant as Li’s mother: strong and loyal to her country, but there is nothing as strong as a true mothers love for her children.
Elizabeth, Li’s first wife and played here by Amanda Schull, is one of the most important people in his life and instrumental in Li’s success, but is ultimately given the short end of the stick. Nothing tragic, but you’ll see what I mean…
The dancing is highly impressive, by star Cao and also members of the Australian Ballet and the Sydney Dance Company. Even those whom are not in to ballet will agree to the incredible level of fitness and talent on display here. The music of Christopher Gordon too, is delicate and seeps through the film in an aural blend of east and west.
Part filmed in Sydney, however it’s the beautiful landscapes of China that catch the breath, with the exquisite mountain ranges providing a majestic backdrop to the humble village of Li’s childhood.
Aussie director Beresford’s style works; he even uses a mandatory training montage and there’s enough slow- mo to make even John Woo proud!
A strong story about following your heart and your dreams and that hard choices aren’t made without cost. We also learn that be they Communist or capitalist, kids find flatulence funny the world over.
Have some dumplings.
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