Movie Review: The Great Arch

Movie number 36 of 2026

The Movie: The Great Arch (L'inconnu de la Grande Arche)

The Cinema: Palace Cinemas, The Kino, Collins Street

Language: French/Danish/English with subtitles

Runtime: One hour 47 minutes

Stars: 4

What better thing can you do on Grand Final day other than go see a film while the game is on. With no skin in the game, there was no point watching in, and I've been wanting to see this. Why? Three factors. It's a French film, and secondly, Claes Bang. Thirdly, it looks at a bit of unknown French History. 

I try to see anything I can in French to keep my ear in and my language skills up. 

And as for Claes Bang - he's a thinking menopausal woman's crumpet. Tall, Danish and utterly yummy. Be still my dead ovaries. Some would recognise him. He was the odious J.P. on Apple TVs Bad Sisters, along with roles in a few other indie hits. 

As for the historical side of things, it the movie looks at how the Danish architect, Otto von Spreckelson, the Danish architect who designed The Cube, which resides in La Defense in Paris, and like the Eiffel Tower, is a modern landmark. 

This movie looks at the inception of the Grande Arch, from the announcement of Mitterrand announcing the winner of the design competition to the problems getting the project done. Spreckelson, it happens, was a bit of a control freak. The government overseer, Subilon (Xavier Dolan) and the project manager, Andreu (Swann Arlaud) only want the best for the project, but with some excessive government building laws, a lot of big asks for materials, a marriage under strain and generally all the stuff that goes on when you build a house times 100, it makes for an interesting hour and 45 minutes. 

I loved the fact that the screen ration was set to 1:1.37, the shortened length of the screen making it feel like we were watching this through a box. The colour palette was very early 80s, as were then costumes (and the onscreen smoking - I do not miss those days).

Something else which I loved about this, the film mostly ran in French, with a bit of Danish, subtitles making easy work of the language. What was surprising was when Bang occasionally broke into English. This was done to great effect making the character appear sinister. This is worth a look, just for this. 

I came out of The Great Arch wanting to learn more about this fascinating piece of history about a well- known Parisian landmark. It's worth a look for a number of reasons. Claes Bang being a big part of this. 

Today's song:

 

It's Footy Day

 Pointless public holiday.

Dan Andrews had a brain fart,

On one Election Eve, 

A day off for the Grand Final

We want it, you believe. 

It's Grand Final tomorrow.... so what?!

It's Grand Final tomorrow... no way?!

It's Grand Final tomorrow, the streets are all empty,

And nobody comes out to play.

Being a contractor, I lose a day's pay on public holidays- so I resent pointless public holidays. I watched my mandatory 15 minutes of finals football last weekend. I caught the final moments of the Hawks vs Brisbane match last week. That's enough footy for the year. 

In my defense, I'm not really into football. I know if the Crows have won, what North Melbourne are doing, so that I can have some sort of conversation with Jay at the gym and I can talk a little about Hawthorn because I know too many Hawks supporters. But really, I don't care that much. 

Jay was horrified when I told her I was seeing a movie during the grand final. She couldn't comprehend that I'd not be watching the game. I think seeing a film is a perfectly sensible thing to do. The grand final is only fun if you have some skin in the game, or you're at a house party when you can get into it. I remember one year being at a barbeque with a baby on my lap. Not my baby - but it was a good grand final - ended in a draw. 

When I go to my yearly football game, normally when the Hawks play the Crows, I tend to take my book or my knitting, much to Barney and Norty's chagrin. I pay enough attention to the match. Being ADHD, doing two things at once comes pretty easily. 

But I just don't care enough about football to have a public holiday for it. I can't be the only one. 

Today's song:

Bye Bye Boxing

 It was my last boxing session tonight, and to be honest, I'm a sad about it. I've loved these sessions. 

Over the last six weeks I've been doing a half-hour boxing sessions at Duke's Gym with one of their trainers.

It has been fantastic. 

As somebody who avoids cardio like I do measles, this has been a journey. I bought a cheap a pair of pad gloves and over seven half hour sessions, I got to bash the crap out of my trainer, Mak. 

There are a lot of good things about muscle memory. Years of boxing training has me in the stance, arms up, head protected, ready to pounce. My left jab is fast. My right cross powerful. My hooks come from the hips, upper cuts from the knees. 

I chant the moves as I punch...chin... chin... kidney... jaw. I slip and duck.... and I come out looking like a pomegranate, albeit a happy one. 

Mak and I parted on good terms. We're going to miss each other. Me, I'll miss having somebody to beat up, even if they are wearing focus pads (and he smells very nice). 

Mak's going to miss this psycho middle-aged woman who makes him laugh between rounds.

I wanted to get him a gift - but time and inspiration were lacking. He said the best gift I can get him is to keep up the cardio - and maybe find a boxing gym that lets women in and maybe cart my now warn in gloves with me to the new gym use the big bag and speed bag regularly, and get onto the skipping rope again.... and do what it appears my body craves.

Because I have the absolute privilege, at 58-years-old, overweight, yet very strong, of being able to take on this physical challenge head on and love every minute of it. 

I know how lucky I am. 

(As an aside, I saw one of the old crew from the old gym tonight while boxing - it was great to see her - though we never knew each other's names but have always admired each other's dedication from afar. Gyms really are a community.)

Today's song:

Facing Transition

 I'm getting my head around the fact that my job is coming to an end next week. 

It's okay. 

Today I went into the office, mostly to say goodbye to some colleagues, many who've been with the firm for over ten years. As I move jobs fairly regularly, the rigmarole of looking for work is something I know how to do. I feel for the 'lifers' who are now sent out to market, most of whom have been awarded sizeable payouts, but they've not had to go on the job-hunting merry-go-round for over a decade. It's daunting. 

For me, I'm getting my head around the fact I'll be on 'leave' for a while. I don't know where I'm going after 1 October. I don't know when I'll start work again - though I don't think it will be very long before something comes my way. I started looking a few weeks ago. I've had an interview. I'm getting call backs. There is a possibility that I may go back to where I am if some funding comes through. 

Regardless, I'm going into 'leave' mode next week. I time block the day. 

• An hour of exercise
• An hour of cleaning/spring cleaning/Marie Kondo-ing the flat
• And hour of job hunting (which gets done early so it's out the way)
• and at least an hour of writing - preferably in a library where distractions are minimalised. 
• And ensure I have some sort of social interaction every day. 

The rest of the time is mine. 

I find job hunting a mind set. Good people get work. The effort is going into finding work. 

It will come. All will be well. I have my Believe post-it, green candles and tarot cards. I manifest all that I need. 

This is just another transition. 

Today's song:

Did you know...

 ... that they have a list of names for the next set of cyclones which will inevitably barrel across the top end over the country for the next couple of months. 

Some common.

Some a bit more out there. 

One girl's name. 

One boy's name. 

This is an improvement - cyclones used to be only named after women, but somebody at the Bureau of Meteorology worked out that this was sexist. If we were to get really politically correct, maybe they should throw in some androgynous or unisex names to bring things into balance - a Sam, or Chris or Bex or Shae wouldn't go astray. 

Moving forward, the Bureau are moving away from whitebread Anglo names too, with Ming Zhu, Niran, Hadi and Trung on the greater list. 

Of course, it's the big and destructive cyclones that get into our group consciousness. The Traceys and Yasis and Marcuses and the Chrises. Names that come to be synonymous with destruction and death. 

 Of course, once a name is used, it can't be used again.

But looking at this list, it's a good mix of old and new. I look at the list and think that it's good that some of the names are there, knowing a few people with some pretty toxic traits. It's rather fitting that they are there. I won''t say which one. 

As a side quest, this was a fun thing to write. 

Now, I will attempt to do the dishes. Let's see what side quests we can go on to avoid that!

Today's song: 

The John Farnham Effect

There was a large concert at Rod Laver Arena last night - a charity event for Head and Neck Cancers celebrating the music of John Farnham. 

John Farnham is a legend. I grew up with him. As a child of the seventies, we grew up with Sadie the Cleaning Lady and his amazing Beatles cover of Help. 

Of course, later in the eighties, Whispering Jack came out, and it was played on repeat for years. I don't need to hear his version of You're the Voice again. Like most things that are over-played it gets under your skin. It's become a theme song, an anthem - in some ways, a proxy national anthem. Of course, anybody over the age of forty knows the words to it. 

He sang the lead with the Little River Band for a while, taking over from Glenn Shorrock - and yes, I'm showing my age, but this was a huge thing when I was a teenager. And Down on the Border is a fantastic song. Farnham's voice is just magic.

And then going into the nineties and the noughties there were the interminable Last Stand concerts. He was still getting out there, but things felt a bit jaded. 

And now we're here. Farnham is in poor health. He was unable to attend last night's extravaganza, but the cast of hundreds did an amazing job from what's been reported. 

He is a legend. His voice has shaped a nation. Unfortunately, his failing health means we'll never hear his extraordinary voice again. Yet his music lives on.  

And finds a new home and way to be performed. This First Nations version of You're the Voice is the only one I need to hear from now on. Having this sung in language makes it even more powerful. I'm sure he loves this. 

Today's song:

Movie Review: Colours of Time

 Movie Number 36 of 2026

The Movie: Colours of Time (La venue d'avenir)

The Cinema: Palace Cinemas Balwyn

Runtime: Two hours five minutes

Stars:  A very solid 4

On this day last year, I was in Paris. It's one of my happy places. I'm 1470 days into Duolingo, having completed the course, I still practice every day. When I can, I try to get along to a French film. It helps to keep your ear in and improve your language, and French cinema is somewhat different to your Hollywood blockbusters. 

Colours of Time (or La venue d'avenir in the French) was the perfect film to see. Not too weird, or heavy, beautifully shot and great fun. Sometimes, French films miss out on the fun - thankfully this one has it in buckets. 

This film, written and directed by Cedric Klapisch, who was responsible for films like The Spanish Apartment and Russian Dolls, this is a film about family, and finding your roots.

The film takes place over two timelines. In modern day France, the large family of Adele Vermillard (Suzanne Lindon) have inherited her abandoned farmhouse, which has remained unoccupied for over 70 years. The large family want to do the best for all and not just sell it to developers to build a new supermarket with ample car parking. The three strands of the family choose a representative to do the work. Seb (Abraham Wapler) a young photographer, Guy (Vincent Macaigne) a beekeeper and nature lover, Celine (Julia Piaton) a stressed-out lawyer and Abdel (Zinedine Soualem) a teacher on the verge of retirement become immersed in the story of their long-gone relative, taking time and care to sort out Adele's belongings and life. 

The other strand shows Adele's life. Adele (Suzanne Lindon) has been raised by her grandmother. On her grandmother's death, she makes her way to Paris to find her mother, leaving behind her beloved, Gaspard. On the journey East, she befriends a painter, Anatole (Paul Kircher) and photographer, Lucien (Vassili Schneider) on their way to make it big in Paris.

It goes on from there, showing what was happening at the turn of the twentieth century, and the findings of the family as they work out just what their great-great-grandmother was all about, often cutting from one age to the other using exactly the same background. In the 1890s, the Eiffel tower as new, Sacre Coeur was being built,,and the city had a grimier feel to it. In the earlier scenes, we meet a lot of luminaries. I will say not more on this, but the cameos were fantastic. 

I really enjoyed this. It was sweet, funny, thought-provoking, gorgeous to look at and it really delved deep into those family ties that bind. 

As French films go, this is very accessible, yet it's not vapid, beautifully set, without being schmaltzy and it bent history in a very cool way. 

This comes highly recommended. 

Today's song: