Movie Review: Klara and the Sun

Movie Number 42 of 2026

The Movie: Klara and the Sun

The Cinema: Hoyts Victoria Gardens

Runtime: One hour 56 minutes

Stars: 4

Kazuo Ishiguro is one of my favourite authors - and Klara and the Sun, though very, very good, is not my favourite of his works. 

Taika Waititi is a favourite director. I mean, The Hunt for the Wilderpeople, Next Goal Wins and What We Do in the Shadows are comedy gold with huge hearts. When he goes a bit deeper, like in JoJo Rabbit, he hits hard, but with pathos. 

Oh, then there's the Belvedere Vodka add which lives rent free in my head. Just to remind you, this...

Klara and the Sun shows off his softer, mature, empathetic side. Mixed with Ishiguro's cerebral, thought-provoking story, you have something pretty special.

I read the book of the film years ago and remember enjoying it. The story tells of Klara, an AF - Artificial Friend, popular in the post-apocalyptic society for providing friendship to people for whatever reason they need. Klara (Jenna Ortega) is an older model of AF, known for their empathy, something which isn't always valued in society. The film starts at the bargain store where Klara resides with other grandfathering AFs and the Store Manager (Natasha Lyonne). Klara finally gets her chance to be in the window to try to find her family. 

She is adopted by Josie (Mia Tharia) who sees something in Klara that she requires. Her mother Chrissy (Amy Adams) isn't thrilled with the choice, and housekeeper, Melania (Rachel House) is not pleased with her presence around the house. 

A lot of the film is from Klara's point of view, where she has to 'calibrate' to new environments and well as navigate the tricky family situation, external friendships and her AF role in the world. 

The film has quite a bit to say about the use of social media and AI and how this is portrayed in friendship. From memory, the book does a better job at this, while the film verges on pastiche at times.

From memory, overall, the book cuts deeper, however this is a beautifully shot and acted film. 

Jenna Ortega is wonderful as the plucky Klara. She uses her acting gifts to animate her robot characteristics. Amy Adams and Mia Tharia excel as the mother and daughter in a precarious position, while Rachel House and Natasha Lyonne bring the comedic thrust. 

Taika Waititi is at his best when he's wandering the grey areas of dystopia, pathos and emotion. He brings all of this here. 

Filmed in New Zealand, the sets and cinematography are exquisite. The only thing I found a little jarring was the more minor character's New Zealand accents mixing in with more mainstream American ones. it wasn't a deal breaker, but it did raise an eyebrow or two. 

Although I'm still more a fan of the book, because Kazou Ishiguro is a literary god, this is a solid film and well worth a look. 

Today's song: 

Ready to go back to work now

Dear Universe, 

I'm ready to go back to work now. I'm getting tired of dodging potholes and rabbit holes. 

The potholes are everywhere. Seriously, how are you supposed to maintain your car's suspension with these mother fornicating holes all over the place. They're everywhere. I know the Big Build was needed, but can't you take care of the small stuff? The potholes are awful. DO SOMETHING. 

Rabbit holes are something I should have better control over - yet they are everywhere. I'm trying to keep my doomscrolling to a minimum. I'm reading the news headlines but not reading things in depth - it's all too depressing. 

Social media has its joys and delusions. 

Today I watched as an acquaintance went full Dave Hughes live on Facebook. I wanted to reach through the screen, give him a gentle shake, tell him to get off the psychedelics and maybe take up with that counsellor the court was suggesting. I won't contact him. I doubt if he would remember me - but he seems to have fallen down a rabbit hole of his own. I gall at the entitlement. I would unfriend him, but the downfall is spectacular, like watching David Attenborough show lemmings jumping off a cliff. 

I'm doing a lot of cleaning. Today's job was the kitchen table. Amazingly, after removing everything, giving the table a wash, throwing out a heap of stuff and restacking the table, it looks empty.

The kettle which has been sitting on said table is being sent over to JB Hifi for recycling tomorrow. 

My crochet projects are coming along well. Blarney will get her blanket for Christmas. I'm not sure where the other one will be going. 

By the end of the month I'll have read 10 books. 

I'm writing too. 

In all, I've enjoyed these few weeks off. But it's becoming time to go back to work.

I've got an interview at 9.30 tomorrow morning. You never know - it may not be too long until this holiday lark is over. Wish me luck.

Today's song:

And so it goes...

In Slaughterhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut marks every death in to book with the words,"So it goes."

Words of acceptance. Words of completion. Words of futility. Words suggesting there is more to this.

I'm glad Gloria and I went to the funeral together. It was a good chance the catch up and not get too caught up in various thoughts of mortality. Gloria is good company, and besides, her car is in need of some work. The drive out to Springvale around midday wasn't too arduous, a coffee was bought at the McDonalds drive through to help us get there quicker. 

Gloria also pointed out that our friend in the box at the front was the same age as her - they were born a fortnight apart. I can see why this would make you feel a little unsettled. 

Me, I was in attendance for my friend, his wife. Speaking to her the days before, she intimated that he was ready to go, that he as at peace. After 18 years living with prostate cancer, the last few years were not good. In the last few months, he barely left hospital and was looking to transfer to hospice care when he died. As I said, he was ready. 

So it goes. 

It's still sad. 

It was a celebration he would have enjoyed. We could feel him in the chapel, the coffin draped in his much-favoured tie-dyed fabric and his Aston Villa scarf, with lots of pictures of him as a younger man, with his family in Britain, and his time in Australia. I man that was hard to recognise, as I'd only known him for the last 20 years when his hair was grey. The only thing the same was the smile. He appeared to like changing his hairstyle and facial hair. He also liked wearing shorts, much to the snickers of the chapel. 

His family spoke of him as a kind man, generous with is time, slow to judge, wise and spiritual. He could, and would, talk to anybody. He had a big heart and a yearning for spiritual knowledge. You can't ask for much more than that. 

Talking to his wife afterwards, we spoke of the love at the funeral. He had got a say in the day, choosing the songs they played, nothing dirge-like. It was at his suggesting the coffin be covered with the tye-dyed cloth and football scarf. I'm thankful he had said something of his wishes in his final weeks. His wife had threatened him with a full Greek Orthodox service if he said nothing, being the religion he had converted to marry her all those years ago.

It did the trick. He spoke up. 

After a cup of tea, some sandwiches and a sausage roll, a chat with others from the meditation group we are all a part of, Gloria and I made our way back to the city, pleased we had seen our friend off and supporting our friend in the process. 

"The worst thing is the older you get, the more of these you go to," said Gloria. 

"It seems to be the case."

"They captured him well."

"He was in the chapel, I could feel him," I mentioned. 

"He's keeping an eye on her."

"Indeed."

A little later, I asked Gloria, "Have you though what you might like for your funeral?"

"Oh yes," she replied, "Something witchy. Lots of chanting and candles and incense to piss off the neighbours."

"And you in a wicker coffin, strewn with bright flowers and your mates dancing around you to sacred rhythms, with the bodhran beating and tambourine rattling. I can see it!"

"I might have to put that in the instructions. Death is so sanitised."

"It is. But I wonder how many times a coffin has been draped with tye-dyed material at the crematorium."

We giggled. It was so him. 

So it goes. 

What else can you do?

Today's song: 

Pick a card

I'm writing this on Monday morning as last night, the inspiration was low. 

Now, I'm procrastinating as I'm off to a funeral in a bit, and facing one's mortality is never fun. It will be a celebration for a friend - somebody I can't say I knew particularly well, but I am going to show support for his wife, who I know a lot better. My mate Gloria is coming around in about an hour and we will drive out to Springvale together. Although a sad occasion, he is now at peace after years of illness. 

Anyway, I pulled a card last night from the journalling deck which reads "What do people say you can't do?"

Hmm. 

This is a loaded question.

I say I can do anything. 

The internet tries to tell me that I can buy anything. 

I'm not sure if anybody cares what I do or don't do. 

If you asked me to touch my toes without bending my knees, I can't. Give me six months of flexibility training and that will turn into a maybe.  

Could I get into medical school? Probably not, but I give it a red hot go. That's more an age thing. 

I'm often told that I can't say this or that. I have a very selective filter. I'm also known for not doing what I'm told to do. It's part of my make up. 

Ask me what I say I won't do - an easier question to answer. 

Here are ten things I won't do:

1. Drive drunk.
2. Travel to the United States of America in the current political climate. 
3. Be cruel to animals (rubbing Lucifer's belly excepted, but that is just rage baiting)
4. Illicit intravenous drugs.
5. Subscribe to Murdoch media. 
6. Vote Liberal or One Nation. 
7. Burpees - under any conditions.
8. Climb to the top of Salisbury Cathedral to change the aircraft warning lights (I watched a video yesterday - absolutely NO WAY would I do that)     
9. Have children (that ship has passed). 
10. Tell you what you can't do - that's not in my makeup. I might suggest you not do something, but you're responsible for your own decisions. 

Today's song:

..............

Sunday Stealing is for Adults Only

 This set of question isn't really that adult - more like having to do adult things, which are more boring and necessary than fun. 

I'm just back from the blood bank, where I donated plasma. It was my 25th donation today - which means I got a pin and a block of chocolate. It's a nice thing to do on a cloudy day. 

Let's get on with the questions, which have been sourced by Sunday Stealing, as always. 

1. Do you have a college degree?

I have two. A Bachelor of Arts in Classics and English, which was done far too long ago. I also completed a Master of Arts in Writing around ten years ago. I have been lucky enough to use both of these degrees in my career. 

2. What was the amount of your last electric bill?

My last electricity bill was $77 in credit. I recently changed suppliers, and part of the deal with the government rebate was put towards your first bill. This bill is normally around $100 a month on average. The hot water and gas bills are normally around $50 a quarter - and these have gone up recently, only because prices have gone up (hence changing suppliers). 

3. Do you have life insurance?

Yes. Those sorts of insurances are attached to my superannuation .(I think the Brits call this your voluntary pension, the US calls it an IRA or 401K). This means I don't have to think about it much. 

4. Do you check your cholesterol on (at least) an annual basis?

Yes. My doctor runs my bloods around once a year. Thankfully I'm stupidly healthy. 

5. Have you ever attended a high school reunion?

Yes. Just one. That's enough. 

6. Do you have a will or estate plan?

Yes. I have a will registered with a lawyer. My affairs are simple, thank goodness, but it's been done and it's all above board. 

7. Do you remember when MTV played music videos?

Very much so. I remember when MTV started. Mind you, in Australia we had our own, home-grown music show, Countdown (like the Brits had Top of the Pops). I used to love it. It drove my mother mad. 

8. Is there a bottle of wine in your refrigerator?

Yes. I have a bottle of French champagne in the fridge - Piper Heidsieck - there for a special occasion. It's been there for years - I've had nothing to celebrate. I must change that. 

9. Have you been divorced? 

No. Never been married either. 

10. When you were 16, did you play music on vinyl, cassette, or CDs? 

Way back when God was a boy, I played music on cassettes. DVDs didn't come out into mass use until the later 80s. I do miss a good mixed tape. 

Today's song:

Movie Review: Digger

Movie Number 40 of 2026

The Movie: Digger

The Cinema: Palace Cinemas, Kino

Runtime: Two hours Eight minutes

Stars: 4.5

This film isn't going to be for everybody. It's weird. It's freaky. It's in your face. It's a rollercoaster. I loved it, despite it tanking at the box office. 

Here's the thing. Tom Cruise is polarising. I'm not a fan of his mainstream stuff. However, Tom Cruise in movies like A Few Good Men, Magnolia, Jerry Maguire and Rainman - roles where he's not playing the action hero - he can be good. Even great. 

Tom Cruise is great in this. No silly running. No overacting. This is a real, character-driven role on a number of levels.

The other reason people aren't going to gel with this is that the film is strange - until you get into it. It's very meta. It also has one of the coolest endings I've ever seen. 

The writer/director, Alejandro G. Inarritu, who's responsible for movies like Birdman, The Revenant and Babel, is know for strange and thought-provoking films. In many ways, Digger is some of his more accessible work. A dark comedy, highly satirical, barking mad but thought provoking. The script and cinematography are fantastic. 

As is the cast. Some of England and America's best and brightest pepper the cast - along with Cruise, John Goodman, Jesse Plemons, Sandra Huller, Emma Darcy, Riz Ahmed among others help make this very good. The animatronic cat also steals the show (even more so when you work out what's going on.)

Not to give anything away, imdb.com describes the plot as "The most powerful man in the world embarks on a frantic mission to prove he is humanity's savior before the disaster, he's unleashed destroys everything." To say any more would ruin it. 

This isn't going to be for everybody, but for me, it's going to be another one in the top ten movies of the year - but I like well-crafted bonkers films. File it under arthouse and give it a go. 

Today's song:

Notes from today

 It's 10 p.m. It's been a really busy day:

So far, I've:

• Walked 15,000 steps (including going on a walk with an old colleague along the river)
• Read a few chapters of my book
• Gone to the gym for a session with Chuck
• Released the COVID weights to another poor sucker for Cleo to torture her with
• Talked to an agency.
• Revamped my CV for a role that I don't think I want and they probably aren't going to want me, but, hey, that's what AI is for and you have to let the universe know you're looking. (I'm not sure I want to work in Moorabbin...)
• Talked to my shrink. 
• Talked to my shrink without melting down too badly - a couple of tears, but that's okay - expected. 
• Done some crochet.
• Did a mini food shop
• Started work on a proposal document for a job I interviewed for two weeks ago. 
• Accepted a HR call with another company for tomorrow. 
• Didn't whinge about the heat.
• Thought about cleaning the kitchen table
• Had two showers.

This being between jobs thing is busy. 

Of the blessings I'm counting:

• I am getting calls and emails about jobs. 
• I'm out of the bank I was working at - their press at the moment is awful.
• I've happily cut my Ritalin down to one a day unless I really have to focus in the afternoon - just enjoy the fizzy brain in the afternoon. 
• Some writing has been done.
• And all the exercise I'm doing is making me feel great. 
• Oh, and I got a big cuddle from the cat, who likes sitting under the airconditioner, looking like a very large cockroach when he's all splayed out. 

I told my shrink about the job hunting, and how the RSD (Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria) doesn't really come into it because, to be frank, I really don't care. I'll know the right job when it comes. It's not far away (touch wood) and I'm enjoying this stay in Windowsill Bay. It's coming

The cat showed his displeasure at my speaking with the shrink by hopping up on the table and showing her is butt. 

You gotta love them. 

Me, I've done 15,000 steps today and I think I need my bed. I've got to be up early to finish off this proposal document. It should come easily once it's percolated overnight. 

Today's song: