July Reads

It's been an interesting month for reading. Once again, eight books were consumed. Some great, some not so much. 

Here's the list with some initial thoughts. 

1) Life After Life by Kate Atkinson - Audio - 5 stars

This has been sitting in my bookcase for many years. I picked up an audio copy of it, and OH MY GOD HOW CAN I HAVE NOT READ THIS SOONER!

This is a Sliding Doors type book. Ursula Todd is born on 11 February 1920. Then dies - Darkness Falls. She's born again. She survives. But she dies soon after. Then's she's not dead. Sounds grim? It's not. It looks at life, and, in the words of T.S. Eliot, "In a minute there is time for decisions and revisions that a minute will reverse." The details in this are awesome. You meet Ursula's funny family and see how her life is impacted by the smallest decision, from a glance, to a knee to a groin, to a visit to Germany. 

This is a stunning, stunning book. 

2) The Midnight Train by Matt Haig - Paperback - 3.75 Stars

I'm love Matt Haig's The Midnight Library - it's a gorgeous little book. This, The Midnight Train, which runs along the same lines as its predecessor didn't win me over as much. 

Wikipedia describes the plot as such, "The Midnight Train follows Wilbur Budd, an 81-year-old bookshop owner on the brink of death. He boards a magical train that allows him to revisit the important events of his life including his honeymoon with wife, Maggie, in Venice."

Look, it's a nice read. Haig spins a great philosophical tale, in this case, from the moment of a person's death, looking at the choices they've made. 

This is not bad - but I preferred The Midnight Library. It had more charm and hope. 

3) God in Ruins by Kate Atkinson - Audio - 4.5 Stars

This was ordered on the back of reading Life After Life - it's the second book in the series following on, yet with a different spin. This one looks at the life of Teddy Todd, Ursula's younger brother, who came back from the war after three years in a prison camp to marry the girl next door, and to get on with his life, marrying, having a daughter and living a quiet life, while his daughter, Viola, stumbles through life making some very questionable decisions which play on her children, Sun and Moon (bloody hippies).

By the end of the book, you know this family intimately. Their loves, traumas, mistakes and triumphs are reflected upon intimately. 

Kate Atkinson is remarkable. I must seek out more. 

4) The Lincoln Highway by Amor Towles - Paperback - 3 Stars

This was this month's book group pick, taken up on the back of the most wonderful A Gentleman in Moscow - which we all loved. I've also read his Rules of Civility - which was also very enjoyable. 

This one - not so much. It is the story of three youth, one, recently released from youth detention after an unfortunate accident saw him up on manslaughter charges. Emmett returns to the recently sold family farm to collect his brother and take off down the Lincoln Highway to California, where he and is brother Billy hope to start a new life, and possibly find their mother. However, two other youth, Duchess and Woolly have stowed away in the car bringing Emmett home. And things change. 

I won't go into it further. It was 100 pages too long and I didn't gel with the characters, although the writing was good - and I liked the ending. There was just enough to keep me going over the near 600 pages. It wasn't for me. 

5) One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez - Audio - 3 Stars

I listened to this as an audiobook. I should have read it on paper - I've had a copy in my bookcase for decades. 

Look, it's South American magic realism. It's dense. It's funny in places. It's about a town that has shut itself away from the rest of the world. I've been told that you need to go to South American, particularly Columbia to really understand it. Lots of people get shot. I only half got it. 

Garcia Marquez won a Nobel Prize for literature. I think if I ever go back to this I will need to read it on paper. It doesn't lend well to the audiobook format (Toni Morrison is another who I have the same feelings about audio versus paper.) I am, however, glad I've tackled this. 

6)  When Words Fail Us by Stan Grant - Hardback - 4 Stars

This slim volume of essays written for the Simone Weil lectures is expansive in its though. I was blown away by the talk Grant gave at the Wheeler Centre a few weeks back, and was interest to delve into this. It reinforces what he said in his talk. It's very thought provoking. 

As non-fiction goes, particularly if you have an interest in philosophy, it's worth a look. Stan Grant is brilliant. 

7)  The Bright Years by Sarah Damoff - Audio - 4.5 Stars

I picked this up on spec on Audible on one of their sales and loved every minute of it. 

The Simon and Schuster website describes the plot as such:

"One family. Four generations. A secret son. A devastating addiction. A Texas family is met with losses and surprises of inheritance, but they’re unable to shake the pull back toward each other. 

Ryan and Lillian Bright are deeply in love, recently married, and now parents to a baby girl, Georgette. But Lillian has a son she hasn’t told Ryan about, and Ryan has an alcohol addiction he hasn’t told Lillian about, so Georgette comes of age watching their marriage rise and fall.

When a shocking blow scatters their fragile trio, Georgette tries to distance herself from reminders of her parents. Years later, Lillian’s son comes searching for his birth family, so Georgette must return to her roots, unearth her family’s history, and decide whether she can open up to love for them—or herself—while there’s still time.

Told from three intimate points of view, The Bright Years is a tender, true-to-life debut that explores the impact of each generation in a family torn apart by tragedy but, over time, restored by the power of grace and love."

This is fabulous. The perfect book group book. Sure, it has themes of addiction and domestic violence, but this is perfectly pitched and exquisitely written. It comes recommended. 

8) Regime Change by Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan - Audio - 4 Stars

The second non-fiction book of the month, and this is important reading. 

I'll admit to being a political animal who's over the situation in America. Swan and Haberman write for the New York Times. This is meticulously researched and written with the highest values of journalistic integrity. It's maddening, irritating and jaw-droppingly gobsmacking and terrifying how low these people in power can go. If Trump were your grandfather, you'd have him committed to a secure ward. 

I'm glad I've read it. It reads incredibly well. Essential reading if you a politics buff. 

Today's song:

Vale Glen Hansard

This has been a shite of a year when it comes to celebrity deaths. On the heels of Sam Neill and Brenda Blethyn, news came through that Glen Hansard had died after being taken in a motorcycle accident. 

You might say, "Who's Glen Hansard?"

I say he was this amazing Irish singer, composer and music luminary who's worked on everything musical that's come out of Ireland. He was down to earth, incredibly talented, humble and an all-round great bloke. 

The first time he registered was in The Commitments. He was the guitarist. You knew he was there, giving weight to this great film. In this clip, he's the baby ginger. 

He wrote and performed in the incredible film Once - which was then turned into a stage musical. This is a film, loosely based on Hansard's time as a busker in Dublin, where the music takes over every part of your body. If you haven't seen it, hunt it out. He won an Oscar for Best Song in 2008. 

He's the musician who led the tribute to Shane McGowan at his funeral. 

Hansard was a musician's musician. Talented, generous, wonderful. 

He used to busk for charity down Grafton Street every year, long after he needed they money. 

His death has hit hard. He's an artist I've hunted out for years, since seeing Once and being blown away. By seeing how he melded into the Irish music scene - ever present, ever supportive, incredibly talented.  He leaves a wife and three-year-old child. He was 56-years-old.

Rest well. Mr Hansard. Thank you for the joy you've brought the world. 

Today's song: 

Sorted

 Well, the gym membership has been sorted. I marched into the gym tonight and saw Chuck. I told him that I was auditioning gyms, but ultimately, I would go where he goes. I told him about the sessions that I’m having at a gym near home.

“I’m sorted,” he told me. 

“Already?”

“I’m off to Gym 24/7,” he says proudly. 

“Thank heavens for that.”

Of the gyms I’ve seen, this is my preferred location. And it’s cheap.

And okay, it doesn’t have ski ergs or TRXs or classes, But it’s five minutes' walk from my front door, it’s got a good atmosphere, and some other things that I think I’ll like. The dry sauna, the reformer beds, and the various areas for training are really good. It’s going to feel strange to be broken up with Fitness First, I’ve been going to that gym for 18 years, consistently two, three, four times a week. 

I think about the fact that it’s been 18 years, and I’m really quite proud of that. 

At least, there is a way forward. And Chuck was his normal bastard self, making me do all sorts of things at a heavier weight. He's a bad man. It's why I pay him. 

And this is why I like training.

Today's song: 

Gym Auditions Part II

Have you got any idea how many gyms there are in the Richmond/Abbotsford area. A stupid, crazy number, and that's not counting the yoga and pilates studios and other health aligned businesses. 

Tonight was the audition for gym number two - with a difference. 

The local Duke's Gym was my check out place. I made an appointment for a check in with a trainer. They also had a deal on - join for four weeks and see a trainer for free twice a week for four weeks. I've got some fitness goals, and as Jay is away for a few weeks, I can see myself kick some different goals. No joining fee. No cancellation fees. 

The poor bloke. I'll call him Mike. He got me after the Ritalin had mostly left my system, so he got full Pandora in Leo mode. 

I said I'd join for the four weeks. I could use somebody, who didn't know me, to kick my bum on some cardio goals - which my other two trainers don't do. (They're cardio averse). Treat it like a reset - and I'll keep my normal workout regime for weights and strength. 

Mike is lovely. He also said that 80% of his clients were perimenopausal and menopausal women - so he's used to dealing with stroppy, loud, bolshie women.

Anyway, here are the pros and cons. 

Pros:

• It's a five-minute walk from home
• 24/7 access
• $19 per week (Not as good at Gym 24/7, but still not bad)
• Modern equipment
• Normal people
• Clean and well maintained
• A women's only area

Cons:

• Less equipment than Gym 24/7
• No recovery area
• No ski ergs or TRXs
• No classes

I won't joining this one (unless Chuck comes here, but I doubt that will happen) but as a cardio gym for the next couple of weeks, I'm good with that. 

Here's to kicking some cardio goals in the next few weeks. 

Today's song:

Gym Auditions

It's started. 

Auditioning for a new gym. I haven't done this for nearly twenty years - but I'm being a grown up and starting to look at my options. I can't function without a gym - and forewarned is forearmed and it's good to see that there are some choices that can be made. 

Also, I'm fairly sure I'll go with Chuck, wherever he goes - because he's great and I don't want to lose him. I also wrote a stroppy letter to Fitness First thanking them for wrecking a community - which is what is happening. I was at the gym this evening and caught up with some of the community. We all feel the same way. I'm getting the odd call from gym buddies. We're all in the same boat. Disliking the schlep, lack of parking and prominence of posers at the Church Street sight. 

Today, I had a look at the gym around the corner. Gym 24/7. 

Pros

• It's five-minute walk away. 
• At $14 a week it's economical
• It's open 24/7
• It's not too busy.
• I know a couple of the trainers who work there
• It's got a lot of equipment which appears to be well maintained
• There's a recovery room with massage chairs and infrared saunas that you can book. 
• Not that I need it, but the on-street parking is not bad
• And there seems to be lots of normal people in there. 

Cons:

• There are no TRX bands (from what I could see - and I love the TRX)
• There are no Ski Erg rowers (I like them).
• I know a couple of the trainers who work there
• There are very limited classes (Jay likes classes - me, not so much)

In all, it's not a bad option. 

I'm auditioning another one tomorrow night. 

Today's song:

Too Tired

 Donated blood today. 

All good - no issues. Just a bit tired. 

Can't be bothered writing. Just want to go to bed.

Will find something to write about tomorrow.

I should finish the review of the play I saw on Friday. (It has been nice to take a break from looking at screens, to be honest). 

Today's song:

Sunday Stealing Adjusts for Inflation

 I'm not thrilled with this week's questions. They're not my cup of tea - but that's okay. It's lovely that somebody sets the questions every week, and for this I'm grateful. 

According to the blurb it says: 

Back in 2007, Sparky Duck at Philly Transplant played the $50,000 Meme. That was nearly 20 years ago. To make it more relevant to our day and age, it's been updated and is now the ...

The $80,000 Meme

Premise: A philanthropist awards you USD $80,000 with the stipulation that you must spend half on yourself and half for the benefit of others. This translates to around AUD 114,000.

Questions, as always, come from Sunday Stealing. 

1. Of the $57,000 you must spend on yourself: 

a. First you throw yourself a lavish birthday party. Tell us about it. 

If I'm honest, I'd take a few friends to Paris, business class flights, for a few weeks. No party, just hang out in Paris, in style. That sounds like fun. 

b. Then you take off on a cruise. Where are you headed?

You have two chances of getting me on a traditional cruise. None and f*ck all. 

If it was a small charter cruise then either a luxury cruise around Australia's top end, or may down the Croatian coast - but it would have to be a small boat with fewer than 50 people on it. Cruises sound like a fantastic way to get COVID or gastro. They're not my thing, even though I love boats. 

2. Of the $57,000 you must spend for the benefit of others: 

a. Who would be on your gift list? What would buy them?

It's too late to think about this stuff. I'll give the money to charity. Most of my friends have everything they want and need, thank goodness. 

b. Which charities would you support?

Here are some of the charities who would receive money from me:

• The Leukaemia Foundation
• Catherine Hamlin Fistula Foundation
• The Fred Hollows Foundation. 
• Planned Parenthood
• Canteen
• Go Gentle Australia
• And an animal charity of some description - Lort Smith Animal Hospital / RSPCA

Today's song:

Theatre Review: Uncle Vanya

The Play: Uncle Vanya by Anton Chekhov adapted by Joanna Murray-Smith

The Company: Melbourne Theatre Company

The Space: The Playhouse at the Arts Centre

Runtime: Two hours 15 minutes

Until 22 August

Stars: 4

Uncle Vanya is a favourite play of mine. I know I'm not a fan of Russian literature - but Uncle Vanya is the bomb.

I saw Derek Jacobi in the title role in London in the 90s. Andrew Scott made it a one-man show in London three years ago, which I enjoyed immensely. And of course there's the 1994 film version, Vanya on 42nd Street, which you can view on Youtube. Adapted by David Mamet, directed by Louis Malle and having Wallace Shawn, Julianne Moore and Brooke Smith in the cast (among others) it's amazing, and well worth the watch. 

This version of Uncle Vanya has been adapted by Joanna Murray-Smith, one of Australia's leading playwrights. Nothing has changed other than some of the language has been updated from a more staid version, to adding bits of Australian vernacular - and it is great. It's one of the good things about working in translation. 

The story doesn't change, the themes staying as universal as ever. Familial duty, unrequited love, family dynamics. Vanya (Daniel Henshall) and his niece Sonya (Philippa Northeast) live on the family farm with their mother (Carolyn Bock). When Vanya's brother Serebryakov (Sean Micallef) and his beautiful young wife Yelena (Catherine Van-Davies) come, all hell breaks loose. Along with a regular visitor, Dr Astrov (Fayssal Bazzi), Vanya is in love from afar with Yelena. Sonya, plain and proud, is in love with the doctor. And Nanny (Evelyn Krape) and indentured servant Telyeghin (Don Bridges) are there to keeps some order and provide a little comic relief. 

A couple of days on, I'm still thinking about this. It's a solid production. Joanna Murray Smith's tweaks have made it even more approachable. I like this odd Australianism in the dialogue. 

My only reservation with this was a little bit of overacting but considering we saw it very early in the season, these blips will be ironed out. Anne-Louise Sarks direction is sound - and the set, which uses all of the Playhouse stage, is something to behold. The stagehands deserved their applause at the end as well - they are busy during this performance. 

In all, this is worth seeing. Not everybody is going to love this play like I do (and I still recommend watching Vanya on 42nd Street - it's a great movie) but the MTC have done another sterling job with this. 

Today's song:

All Hail Pam the Bird

 Walking to the office on Wednesday, I looked through the Docklands wind tunnel that leads to Marvel Stadium and looked at the twin columns of the Bolte Bridge. They often remind me of Twin Towers in New York, but they're slimmer and shorter and they're holding up a bridge that you have to pay to use. 

One thing that brightened me up - Pam the Bird. 

For the last few years, Pam has been turning up in all sorts of strange places. On factory walls, the back of road signs, on the sides of buildings. People, particularly in the West, keep an eye out for her. 

Technically, she's graffiti. But as graffiti goes, she's a happy little (big) sod who brightens people far more than any tag or cock and balls will every do. 

My other thought about her arriving on the Bolte was how the hell did anybody scale the 140 metre column and paint her on overnight? Unfortunately, the artist was found sitting on top of the pylon first thing in the morning, paint in hand. 

He's been charged with a litany of offences. 

The powers that be started painting over her today. They say that it's going to cost around $100,000 to remover her, also saying that it should be 10 degrees warmer so the paint sets properly (Sounds like elements of Trump's botch job on the Reflecting Pool in Washington.)

Regardless, I know she's graffiti, but I reckon she's art. She makes people feel something. She's inoffensive (if a little inconvenient) She's unexpected. And I wish she could stay.

Bless her. 

Today's Song:

Too Miffed to Write

 I was going to find something to write about. Something that got my goat up. Pauline Hanson. Not writing. Being stuck in front of a screen all day. Getting rained on as I walked out of work at 5.15. 

Nope. 

Tonight we found out that the gym is closing. 

My lovely community gym that I've been going to for 20 years. My wonderful gym that has normal people in it. It's always been like this. Posers don't go to my gym, which is tucked behind a shopping centre, out of sight and mind. There's not an influencer to be seen. The same people go week in, week out. Some I've known for over a decade. Jay and I are the scary birds who put many men to shame with the weights we lift. We know the receptionist and trainers. It's great. 

And they're bloody closing it. It's not a part of their 'brand' which is now high-end and marketed to the poser/influencer types who want to film themselves with their ring lights. The nearest we get to a camera is when we talk to Cleo in Barcelona as she gives us orders on what to train next. 

And sure, the writing has been on the wall for a while. Diminishing classes, staffed hours, the lack of maintenance, but still, my convenient gym, which has well-lit access and great parking, is closing. 

So, what will I do after 21 August - which we're told is the last day the gym is open - I do not know. 

I feel I'll end up wherever Chuck plants himself. Chuck's my Wednesday trainer and he's done wonders for me - I'm more flexible and stronger under his tutelage. He's one of the best trainers I've had - and I want to keep him. He only got the news at lunchtime, so he's looking at what's best for all his clients. I'll have a chat to Hamish, who's been at the gym as long as I have - see what he's doing. I think he and his girlfriend will follow Chuck too.

I mean, there's the other Fitness First site down Church Street, but getting there is a bastard as you often get stuck behind a tram, the parking is variable and it's full of posers. 

There's the 24/7 gym on Victoria Street where some of the old trainers from where I am now train. It's a bit cheaper and easy to get to, but a bit smaller.

Richmond has a plethora of gyms, but this has been my gym for 20 years. It's my haven, my home. 

And it will all work out, because whatever happens, I need to have access to a gym because it's cheaper and easier to work out than to take anti-depressants and go to therapy. And it keeps my arse harder than a breeze block. 

I'm just pissed off. It's the end of an era. 

Today's song: 

A Piece of Architecture

 I have a masonic job to do tonight. 

Writing a piece of architecture.

Eh?

It's mason's talk for a short talk. I won't go into why it's called what it's called, but the Grand Poobah called (not the official name, but The Flintstones made it popular, so I'll use it) and asked if I could string together a five-minute talk about stuffs. 

In the past, I've done talk on things like Masonry and Tarot - which happily go hand in glove. I've done talks on conferences I've attended - all sorts of things. 

This time around, I'm going to bring in the chat I went to the other night, with Stan Grant talking about his book When Words Fail Us. 

I should have known this was going to happen. When something triggers you, it will come back to bite you in Masons.

While I was sitting there listening to Grant, my head was pinging all over the place. Grant has a Doctorate in Theology. He's also a veteran journalist and writer, and activist and all-round deep thinker. His talk the other week was on the philosophies of Simone Weil, communication and silence.

The talk was awesome, but there were a few things that set me off on various paths. Underpinning the talk was Simone Veils philosophies, particularly around life and silence. This is interesting also how both Grant and Veil see silence as a way to truth - not through complicity, but by allowing we in the human condition to actually listen and absorb rather than judge. 

Then, my monkey mind starts to think about masonic ritual, and how silence is used there. 

Anyway, I'm trying to gather my thoughts as to what I'm going to say on Sunday. 

Oh, what fun!

Today's song: 

When You Don't Like The Book - One Hundred Years of Solitude

Some books you have to be in the mood for. Some books deserve to be read on paper, rather than by audiobook. Some books have been sitting in your bookshelf for years and you've never got around to reading them. 

Gabriel Garcia Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude is one such book. 

I know exactly where it is on my bookshelf (sitting next to Love in a Time of Cholera) behind my hairbrushes, near the Rushdies and Atwoods. I've had it for well over 20 eyars. Who knows where I picked it up, but it is there. Unlike the Rushdies and Atwoods, I've looked at these books and never got further than page 30. 

This time I tried listening to One Hundred Years of Solitude. 

I know it's a good book. I know it's a great book. I get that people have this as their favourite book - but I'm not going to be one of them. 

There's a few things I know. For one, I'm not really big into magic realism. It's okay - and a little bit of light literary magic realism is fine. I love the way Salman Rushdie does it. Laura Esquivel is another who uses this literary trope well. Gabriel Garcia Marquez is next level. A lot of South American authors use it - and along with the foreign-ness of it all, it makes it hard to navigate the next. 

The more I got into it the book, the more I got it. Keeping track of all the characters, most of whom had similar names, but with differing circumstances was hard. 

In the end, I got the point that keeping a village away from everything for a hundred years, letting little in or out is going to be bad for the town. 

I also get that the book is covering up a heap of political unrest, junta action and all sorts of things somebody living in Australia will never gel with. 

I read one comment that said, "Come to Colombia, you will then understand."

Interesting thought. 

For me, I reckon in a year or so, I should pull out the paper copy and wade through it again, on paper, using different synapses - maybe then I'll understand what I read a little more. 

(and before you ask, the writing, even in translation, is delicious - it's also very opaque.)

Maybe I'll get back to James Joyce's Ulysses....

Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment. 

Today's song:

Movie Review: The Odyssey

 Movie Number 28 of 2026

The Movie: The Odyssey (in 70 mm format)

The Cinema: The Rivoli

Runtime: Two hours 52 minutes

Stars: 5

I was tossing up whether to see this. 

Really.

I'm also coming at this from a different perspective than most people, as, see, my bachelor's degree is in Classical Studies. I've read The Odyssey a couple of times, that epic poem of Homer's that provides the story of Odysseus, King of Ithaca, who is trying to make his way back home from the Trojan Wars, but after royally pissing off Poseidon, it takes him another ten years to get back. I wouldn't call myself a purist, but it gives you a different view on things. Jay said she was going, I said I'd come along, particularly as it was showing in the 70 mm format. 

Surprise number one for me - how much I could remember from university. 

Surprise number two. This was excellent. 

It's a long film. Nearly three hours - but they go by quickly. (If you need to take a pee, near the end of the second hour when he's on the beach with Calypso - nip out then).

To go into a bit more detail, at the start of the film, Odysseus (Matt Damon) in on a beach with Calypso (Charlize Theron) wondering how he's going to get home. He has no idea where his crew are or how long he's been there. 

Meanwhile, back on Ithaca, Odysseus's wife Penelope (Anne Hathaway) is trying to keep things out of the hands of some suitors, who've basically moved in. Their son, Telemachus (Tom Holland) is forced to go out to try and find his father, while the chief suitor, Antinous (Robert Pattinson) keeps making a play for Penelope. Eumaeus (John Leguizamo), a loyal servant keeps watch over the place, with Odysseus's loyal dog, Atlas (I've always had a soft spot for the dog).

From here, we look back on the sacking of Troy, meeting up with the Cyclops, going onto Circe's Island (A brilliant Samantha Morton), going to Hell to talk to Tiresias, facing off with Scylla and Charybdis, then being one of the Lotus Eaters with Calypso. 

Finally, after being away for 20 years, he makes it back to Ithaca, only to have to fight off the suitors. 

Looking at this now, the lessons of the story are all there, but they're not shoved down your throat, which is good. The fight scenes are brutal too. At times, this isn't an easy watch. 

I'm glad I saw this in the 70 mm format. Made for the IMAX format, any way you can see this in the biggest screen you can is a bonus. You get to see so much more detail. It's very cool. I'm also told that the IMAX cinema in Melbourne is one of the few in the world that has the technology to show this as intended - but seats are hard to come by and are over $50 for the screening. 

Christopher Nolan has adapted the original epic poem as well as directed this monster of a film - and it's been done with the same grace, detail and excellence as his other films. Sure, it's nothing like Tenet, Inception, The Batman or Oppenheimer - but it has most of Nolan's hallmarks. Great settings, a forboding soundtrack, composed by Ludwig Goransson, with whom he worked with Nolan on Oppenheimer. The cinematography is phenomenal too.

To coin a pun, this is EPIC. 

Bravo, Mr Nolan. 

And no, you don't need a degree in Classics to understand or enjoy this. It's film making at it's best.

But remember - the bigger the screen, the better. You want to take this in and savour it for what it is - a great film, done well, with a superb cast.

Today's song: 

Sunday Stealing Know Your ABCs

 It's Saturday morning. I've changed the bedding, had a good chat to Reindert in Colorado, fed the loaner cats (cat sitting is fun) and now I'm waiting for the washing to finish. What a weekend!

Now feels like a good time to get the weekly questions out of the way. As always, these have been provided by Sunday Stealing. 

I'm glad I've got all of this done - I owe a friend 5000 words on Wednesday. Getting these out of the way is critical. 

Answer these questions with anything from a single word to a paragraph or two. It's up to you.

A is for Age.

It's just a number that gets bigger every year. 

B is for your Booze of choice.

Gin - particularly gin and tonics. The more interesting the gin the better. Life is too short to drink Gordons (or base level Tanqueray). 

C is for Career.

I have one. I write for a living. On my contract at the moment I'm called an Instructional Designer. Really, I'm just the person who translates nerd speak so ordinary people can use computer systems. 

D is for your Dog's name.

I don't have a dog. I have a cat. His name is Lucifer. 

E is for Everyday Essentials.

Coffee, shower, clean teeth, write something, exercise. Easy. 

F is for your Favorite Food.

Ice cream. I wish it wasn't.

G is for your favorite Game.

I love playing pool. I used to be not bad at is. For bigger sports, Australian Rules Football is the best. As much as I've enjoyed watching the fans of the World Cup, I've not watched a minute of it. 

H is for your Hometown.

Adelaide, South Australia, Australia. 

I is for an Instrument you play. 

I played the flute at school. I still have the instrument in my cupboard - I think I could play it but I'd have to teach myself how to read music again. It's been a long time...

J is for your favorite Jam or Jelly flavor.

Oh, Coles Cherry Jam - like their cheap homebrand version, is the absolute bomb - on toasted Turkish bread with heaps of butter. Yum. Roses Lime Marmalade is great too. 

K is for Kids.

Don't mind them but I couldn't eat a whole one. (I forgot to have them. Oops). 

L is for the Last show or movie your watched.

The last show I watched was something called The F Ward - local medical show. The last movie I saw at the cinema was The Invite, which I really enjoyed. 

M is for your Most prized possession.

My cat, Lucifer. He's awesome. And a cat. 

N is for the Name of your first crush.

Mark Holden. If you're Australian, you will know... I was six. No taste. 

O is for what you Observe from your window.

Next door's car park, magpies, the fish factory on the next block. Some trees. Antennas. 

P is for Phobias.

Huntsman Spiders. Snakes. Open water swimming. Being locked in rooms. 

Q is for your favorite Quote.

'If it be now, 'tis not to

come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now,

yet it will come. The readiness is all.' (Hamlet, Act 5, Scene 2)

R is for Regret. 

I try not to have them. A waste of time and emotion. 

S is for Sweets.

Yes please. Vanilla or lemon, any day over chocolate. Hot puddings - even better. 

T is for the Time you wake up.

Sometime around seven, or when the cat says it's time for his breakfast. 

U is for Underwear.

Utilitarian. Bamboo or cotton. Clean. My bras are like industrial scaffolding. Nobody seems them so they're not an issue. 

V is for your favorite Vegetable.

POTATOES

W is for your Worst habit.

Procrastinating. 

X is for X-rays. 

Are strange. I haven't had one in years - actually, the last time I had one was in the 90s - I was in Dublin and I had a bad chest infection. I remember being slumped over the machine coughing. It was awful. 

Actually, no, I had one two years ago on my leg. At least they don't hurt and are over in minutes. 

Y is for your Yummiest recipe.

My grandmother's recipe melting moments are awesome - the secret ingredient is the custard powder. 

Z is for your Zodiac sign.

In layman's terms, I'm a Leo. From an astrologer's perspective, I'm a Leo/Virgo with a Cancer Moon, Capricorn rising and a five planet stelium in Virgo. This makes me an exuberant, pain in the butt, who's stubborn, but with a marshmallow centre who likes making lists. 

Today's song:

Irene and Philip

 This is Irene.

This is Philip. 

They have fluffy butts and they're mine for the weekend. Irene is a sweetie. Philip is talkative. 

I have all the cats this weekend. 

Lucifer has his nose out of joint. 

At least they're staying at their place across the driveway. 

They're still cute. 

Today's song: 

Stan Grant: When Words Fail Us

 Stan Grant: When Words Fail Us - in conversation with Sally Warhaft

Capitol Theatre, Swanston Street

As a part of the Wheeler Centre Fifth Estate series

One of the best gifts I've ever received was a voucher for the Wheeler Centre. A gift from a friend, she regifted it to me after it was gifted to her by her daughter. Neither of them would use this. I do hope they know how thankful I am for this gift. This voucher has got me in for free to see all these amazing talks. Zadie Smith for one. Unfortunately, Florence Knapp and Salman Rushdie have had to cancel upcoming talks. 

On the back of Florence Knapp cancelling, I booked a ticket to hear Stan Grant speak - he's a journalist, media presenter, academic. I've followed his career for years. So, I thought - I don't do much on Thursday nights. Sit and listen to some ideas for an hour. 

I've walked away with my mind blown. 

Something I didn't know about Grant is that he holds a PhD in Theology. He was asked by the Australian Catholic University to give a series of lectures for the Simone Weil talks - Weil, being a French philosopher and mystic. His latest book - When Words Fail Us reflects on how we struggle to speak to, and listen to, and hear each other in today's world. 

So much was covered in the conversation with Sally Warhaft. How we can find truth in silence. How the cacophony of daily life has impeded on our ability to understand one another. How those who have nothing have a clearer, easier relationship with the truth. Of how faith can be manipulated (see America at the moment). I was sitting there with my head taken in 15 places at once. Masonic ritual, poetry, politics, indigenous affairs, becoming quiet, the rise of the right, consumerism.... My poor brain barely kept up with the fifteen other conversations which were sparked in my head from the words coming from the stage. (By 7 pm my Ritalin has worn off),

But sheesh - I walked away with a heap of ideas for Masonic website blog posts (The bit about humans, ritual and silence set off an earthquake in my brain.) I've been challenged to now read Simone Weil. My brain's been set off on a heap of different paths. 

And I've come away in awe of Grant's humble, ferocious intelligence and understanding. I also bought a copy of the book - a small, hardback volume which sits nicely in the hand and is baying to be savoured while being read. 

This was a seriously great night. I love when I'm challenged to think and feel. Especially when the subject hits as hard as it did tonight. 

How lucky we are here in Melbourne, where we get access to this sort of thing. 

Today's song: 

Resilience

 I've got custody of two more cats this weekend - Irene and Philip. Their Dad is going away for the weekend, so I'm on feed, water and cuddle duty. I've met Irene before, but Philip, who's fairly new is a ginger. This should be fun.

Their dad and I had a chat about a few things - what to feed them, when to come in etc. Then we got talking about the state of the block. 

I've lived in this place for a very long time. There's been a lot of changes. Being two floors up and at the back of the block, I'm lucky - it's quiet, secure and I have lovely neighbours. 

Across the other side of the driveway, things are not as good. There's been problems with the hot water, the plumbing. Land recession has meant the building has needed to be repinned, and walls reinforced, plus there are ongoing dramas with gates  and the body corporate... which I don't have anything to do with. 

Another thing that happens occasionally, cars get broken into. In the last 20 years I've been done twice. But I make an effort to ensure the car is locked and I don't leave anything of value in there for just this reason. In the past, cars were robbed more regularly. It was also worse when there was an active drug dealer across the road. We'd often find people shooting up in the car ports - that hasn't happened in years. 

My neighbour was saying he was wondering if he'd made the right move moving here. He said about some local shops being fire-bombed, the dodgy neighbours in the next block over (there are some trippers over there) and a few other things. 

Oh, I should mention, he's in his twenties. 

"So, are you scared?"

"Not really."

"Are you running a bootleg tobacco shop, with some stand over men wanting safety money?"

"No."

"Do you check your car is locked before leaving the carport?"

"I'm getting better at it."

"Do you walk down the street at night and feel unsafe?"

"Not particularly."

"Then what are you complaining about? It's only the dodgy tobacconists who are getting fire-bombed - though I feel for the shops next door to them. You're taking your personal safety seriously. You're a young bloke. Why move? It's just as bad everywhere else - if not worse. Crime happens."

"You're awfully blase about this," he told me.

"Mate, I lived in London in the 90s when the IRA bombed indiscriminatingly. I've been here when junkies left their syringes in the hallways. I was here before the injecting room cleaned up the streets. I've travelled the world alone. I like living here. I'm also happy that I'm not in the other block."

The youth of today - utter snowflakes. Little resilience. 

 Or am I just a Gen X woman who gives few fucks and doesn't get phased? 

Maybe I'd feel the same if I was in my 20s.... but I'm forged from sterner stuff. 

Today's song:

Movie Review: The Invite

 Movie Number 27 of 2026

The Movie: The Invite

The Cinema: Hoyts Victoria Gardens

Runtime: One hour 47 minutes

Stars: 4

I spent this film thinking 'This would be great as a play." It turns out that this is a remake of a Spanish film, The People Upstairs, which is based on the play of the same name. I mean, the action takes place in one apartment and there are four characters. Easy. Yes. And it seems it's very transferable to celluloid.

There were other things that went through my mind - like Penelope Cruz still looks like an ostrich and why do I want to sort of punch Edward Norton every time I see him on stage, but these didn't stop me from enjoying the film. 

The imdb.com blurb reads, 'Joe and Angela's marriage is on thin ice. When they invite their enigmatic upstairs neighbors for a dinner party, the night spirals into unexpected places.'

Joe (Seth Rogan) is a disillusioned teacher. Angela (Olivia Wilde) is not enjoying her marriage, and you get the feeling early on that she wants to pull the pin. Annoying them both are the couple upstairs, whose apparent loving relationship, noisy sex life and other traits drive them crazy. The couple invite Pina (Penelope Cruz) and Hawk (Edward Norton) over for dinner, with the intention to gently confront them with a few home truths. 

And that's where the fun begins. 

The Invite is laugh out loud funny in many places, with unexpected twists taking the plot in many directions that you'll never see coming. Will McCormack and Rashida Jones have done a great job in adapting Cesc Gay's original script. It's fast-paced, wise and very cool in many ways. I like the films emotional intelligence, which goes well with the adult humour. 

My only small reservation is some of Olivia Wilde's direction. Some of the camera work is quite jarring - especially at the start of the film. It settles down once Pina and Hawk enter the room. Wilde has some directing kudos - the work she did  on Booksmart was fantastic. This is nearly as good. 

This is definitely worth a look. In my opinion, you can't beat smart funny - which this has in droves. 

Today's song: 

So, who's the third?

Derryn Hinch I could understand and process easily. He'd lived a good life, an interesting life, he'd had a liver transplant and had various health complaints over the last decade. So mote it be and all that. Rest well, Derryn. 

But Sam Neill?!

No. 

I'm sorry, Sam Neill is an Australasian treasure, despite the fact that he was born in Northern Ireland and emigrated to the South Island of New Zealand as a child - like all things good from New Zealand - read pavlova, Split Enz, Russell Crowe (but you can have him back, please), Sam Neill was ours. 

The news came through about his passing mid-afternoon. It's sad news. He was a legend. 

Sam Neill has been on our screens since God was a boy. I remember him as Harry in My Brilliant Career. He was the awful husband in The Piano (must watch that again). He was in the Australian classic, The Dish. He played Norman Lindsay in Sirens. I'm not counting his work in the Jurassic Park movies or his better-known television appearances. 

Most particular, I loved him as Hector in The Hunt for the Wilderpeople - one of my most favourite films. 

Sam Neill (originally named Nigel John Dermott Neill... nah, he's not a Nigel) has been around since the year dot on our screens, and he was reliably good in most things. 

Adding to this, word on the street was he was a thoroughly decent bloke. My friend Geetangeli used to run into him at the farmer's market in Christchurch. During COVID, he made videos of him roaming around his acreage with this animals. He had a dry wit and a lot of charm. He had been battling a blood cancer in recent years, but appears to have beaten it in the last year. He spoke openly and honestly about his possible demise with a huge amount of grace.  

And he will be sadly missed and remembered very fondly - and can you want much more than this. 

However, it seems the rule of threes is taking out people of New Zealand origin. I mean, Derryn Hinch - Sam Neill... if I was an octogenarian Kiwi I'd be looking over my shoulder - if I were Dame Kiri Te Kanawa I'd be a little worried. 

Regardless, Sam Neill - thank you for all the joy you've brought us over the years. May you rest in power, and may heaven be exactly how you wanted it to be. Know you are very well loved. Thoughts are stretched to your large whanau. 

Today's song: 

Theatre Review: Losing Face by Marieke Hardy

The Production: Losing Face by Marieke Hardy

The Company: Melbourne Theatre Company

The Theatre: The Southbank Theatre

Runtime: One hour, 40 minutes (no interval)

Until: 25 July

Stars: 4

This was fun. Good fun. And relatable. And lovely to look at. And very funny. A little bit of light relief after the serious matter that was Retrograde and the classical drama we're seeing in a few weeks when Uncle Vanya opens. 

Losing Face is a girl's own adventure. 

According to the MTC website, "Travel writer Jo is turning 50 and has invited her two ride-or-dies along for an unforgettable celebration: an all-expenses-paid visit to flashy new wellness resort, The Royal You. Expecting a long-overdue catch-up in steam rooms and infrared saunas, they instead arrive at a high-end medispa, where supercharged cosmetic procedures are upsold to unsuspecting guests. When a medical mishap turns disastrous, the women are left with some wildly unexpected and gravity-defying side effects."

Although this bordered on pastiche in places, the first thing I loved about this was the friendship portrayed between Jo (Michaela Banas), Lauren (Kristy Whelan Browne) and Simone (Madelaine Sami). The three women were all hilarious in their own way, with a lot of pathos mixed in for good measure. Looking after them at the medispa is the Nurse (Genevieve Morris) and the medical director, Tomas (Wil King).

The play is souped up for laughs. Marieke Hardy's script, which draws out the nuances of the women's friendship while providing insights of what it's like to be a perimenopausal woman in these times. The twist in the play's end put another layer on this tale of women's friendship and the search for what is perceived as eternal youth.

This was a very enjoyable night out, funny and thought provoking. You can't ask for more than that. 

Today's song:

Sunday Stealing Ask Your Name

 I look at this and I see a lot of red flags - I mean, here are people's passwords there and ready for the taking. But as I've moved on to double authentication and I'm going to do some lying here, I'll play. I have to get ready to go to the theatre in a bit anyway, so it's good to get the questions out of the way. I need to have a shower, because I smell like dog - was cuddling a toy poodle at the hairdressers today. He was adorable and fell asleep on my shelf, but still, I smell like dog and the cat doesn't like it. 

Questions come from Sunday Stealing - but know, they're not going to be quite correct. So a big ner ner raspberry to the scammers out there. 

What Is Your ...

1. ROCK STAR NAME (current pet and first car)? Example: If you have a dog named Max and your first car was a Chevy Malibu, your rock star name would be Max Malibu.

Okay, this one is public knowledge. My rock star name would be Lucifer Holden. That's pretty cool. We'd be on the harder edge of rock, but not death metal. 

2. RACECAR DRIVER NAME (the first names of your grandfathers)?

I'll use my grandfather's middle names for this. Elliot Llewellyn. That sounds pretty good. Mind you, I think that's more suited to racing of old-time race cars. Can see myself in an old MG or Caterham jaunting around the back roads of England. 

3. SOAP OPERA NAME (your middle name, town you were born in)?

I'm going to use my preferred name and place of birth here. I'd be Arcadia London. I could see myself being able to sing with a name like that. 

4. WITNESS PROTECTION PROGRAM NAME (your parents' middle names)?

Neither of my parents have a middle name so I'm going to have to make this one up too. Mum has always said that if she had a middle name it would be Elizabeth. As for Dad, we'll I'll give him a generic one. His middle name can be John. So that would make me some derivative of Elizabeth John. Maybe Lizzie Johnstone. 

5. ROMANCE AUTHOR NAME (favorite flower, favorite season/holiday)?

Ah, see this one is far enough removed not to be used for a password. And again, I'm going to lie.

Jonquil Rose Winters would be my romance writers name - though I still think that my other writerly name, Trelawny Thom would be good too.

Today's song: 

The Land Seal

 I'm busy binge watching the Legally Blonde prequel, Elle, on Netflix. This is happily entertaining, so I don't feel like writing. 

I'll tell you about the land seal tomorrow. 

Her name is Zoe. She's a Staffie. 

Not Neil. She does look a bit like him. 

Neil, however, doesn't play fetch with gumnuts. And Neil's Dad doesn't yell out, "Zoe, your mate's here,' when I walk past. 

Today's song: 

Boom Boom

Boom boom. 

Boom boom. 

Boom boom. 

Boom boom.

I'm trying to sort out a heap of documentation, helping another project get their resources in order. Get to use my rather critical eye to do the finessing. Oh, what fun. Don't millennials have an eye for detail? I ask myself. 

Boom boom

Boom boom

Boom boom. 

I ask the guy next to me if he can hear drums. 

He can. 

- They're getting ready for Modi's visit. He's talking to the masses at Marvel at six.  

- Oh, joy. So, the Indian diaspora is converging at marvel this afternoon.  

- Yep. 

Boom boom. 

Boom boom. 

Boom boom. 

- Those drums are starting to give me the shits. 

I should mention that the person next to me is a dapper, middle-aged bloke of Indian extraction. Lovely guy. 

- Me too. I don't want to celebrate Modi.

- Really?

- He's evil, he tells me. 

- Okay. I can't comment on Indian politics. I'm staying out of it. I don't know anything to have an opinion. 

He smiles at me and nods. 

Boom boom. 

Boom boom. 

Boom boom. 

- Those bloody drums. 

A colleague excused themself from the office a little earlier. They didn't feel safe. And fair enough.

But I've worked down in the Docklands for long enough not to rise to the bait of a little political insurrection. I was in the building when riot police were called in to babysit Christopher Pyne (yes, really - it was the only book launch I've been to where riot police were involved.) I was in London when the IRA were regularly bombing the place. I wandered the streets of Hong Kong during the protests. A little bit of political unrest doesn't phase me. 

Boom boom. 

Boom boom. 

Yet the drums were unsettling. 

- Those drums are annoying, I said to my colleague. 

- I don't find them a celebration, not for this man. But what are we to do?

- Maan nahi janti! I responded in the only bit of Hindi that I know. 

- You do that well. 

I know nothing other than the drums were driving me spare. A harbinger of who knows what. 

Leaving work a few hours later, the front doors were locked on the building. There was a police presence - nothing over the top. No horses. No riot squad. We could easily leave by a convenient side door. 

Everything was calm. The locked doors were a precaution, nothing more. They do that for Friday night football matches. 

We were safe. People made their way to Marvel Stadium. It was quieter than a football match. People were orderly. 

Nothing to see here. 

Boom boom. 

Today's song: 

Holiday Planning

 I'm not holiday planning. I'm thinking about holidays, but I'm not actually holiday planning. 

There's a couple of things that are coming up when I thinking about holidays. 

• Where do I want to go?
• What do I want to do?
• How long will I go for?

Being a contractor, you have to get things planned and paid for. 

Also travelling alone, what option to I take? Solo travelling? Go on a tour? Do I go somewhere I've been before? Do I stay at home with the cat? 

If I'm going on tour, Vietnam and Cambodia are high on the list. I'd do a tour. Intrepid have a good one that takes in a lot. I really want to go to Angkor Wat. And I love Vietnamese food. 

Japan is also high on the list, but everybody is going to Japan. But Japan is safe and fairly easy to get around, from what I'm told. 

Then I could go over to the UK, hire a car and go Cathedralling. Poking around cathedrals makes me happy. Maybe hire a car and go down to Cornwall and have a good look around St Michael's Mount, Truro, Wells, Exeter, Bath, Salisbury, Gloucester. Of course a visit to Stratford-Upon-Avon to visit Shakespeare, and maybe a trip down to Canterbury Cathedral to go and visit St Thomas a Beckett - and maybe then up to Lincoln to see Richard III (They hadn't dug him out of the car park last time I was there.) And of course, I could go to my favourite of the English cathedrals - Ely. 

Okay, you're seeing my eyes light up. 

Or do similar in Scotland.... so much to explore. 

Then there's France. I'm nearly 1400 days into my daily French practice. There's so much in Paris I want to see - so many places in France to explore. And more cathedrals. 

Travelling alone, there are considerations. How do you get there? Who will look after the cat? How long do I go for. 

Or do I visit my uncle in Tijuana - though there is no way I'm going to America at the moment. 

Or maybe do a long weekend in Hobart to go roan around MONA, and then up to Uluru, because I've never been there and I rather like the Territory. 

Ah, it's a good diversion. 

Back to the ironing. 

Today's song: 

Today, I'm Belgian

 If you ask me what I think about 'football' - which is normally known as 'soccer' here because we have lots of different football - as in Australian Rules Football, which is what I call football. Up in New South Wales and Queensland, they have Rugby League, which they call football. Then there's Rugby Union, which is different again, but that's rugby not football. 

Regardless, if you ask me what I think about football/soccer, I will normally come back with the adage that if I want to see eleven people not score, I'd organise a group of mates to go down the pub. 

I'm not really a football person, of any code. I like watching the haka before rugby union games. I'm a nominal Adelaide Crows supporter. I can tell you where we are on the ladder (Currently 5th) and if we won the week before (we did). I can normally tell you what North Melbourne and Hawthorn are doing as well, as friends are footy tragics and they don't shut up about it, so I make sure I know what's going on to be polite.

 I go to the footy (Aussie Rules) once every two years where I'm told off for taking a book or my knitting with me and then I tune out until the last quarter. 

Then there's this World Cup thing going on in America, and I prick up my ears. 

It's like an election. There are tables and statistics and all sorts of things that appeal to my fizzy brain. The least of the things I'm interested in are the actual games. 

I've loved watching the fans show the Americans how to have a good time. 

The Dutch:

(I love the English translation.... skip your medication, so you can lose your mind...)

There's the Norwegians:

And the Scottish drinking every pub dry in their wake, complete with kilts and bagpipes:

Even the Aussies got in on the singing:

We also keep hearing of little towns being wonderful to the visiting teams. Case in point, the Algerians went to Kansas, and the Kansans took them on as one of their own. 

This is joyful stuff. 

Then you hear about the Americans, who have every right to play a team and do well. But when their lead striker was red carded, rightly or wrongly, and the U.S. President calls up the head of FIFA to get the red card revoked. It just stinks.

Even I've heard about how corrupt FIFA can be.

But that just sucks. 

So today, I was an honorary Belgian. 

Sitting in the office next to a colleague of Spanish extraction (he's happy) we kept our eye on the United States vs Belgium match. 

"It's 3-1 with five minutes to go," I told him at one stage. 

"There's 15 minutes to go."

"Really - I thought they were 40-minute halves."

"Nah, 45 minutes."

"Goes to show that I don't like soccer."

"Football."

"Whatever. The Belgians are winning and long may that remain. Today, I'm an honorary Belgian."

"Indeed. Me too."

I reckon that a lot of people were honorary Belgians today. 

The final score, 4-1, felt a little like a cosmic reparation.

Well, it will be until the Orange Buffoon / Cankles McTacotits / Daddy Dumpy Pants / the Overinflated Ooompa Loompa / (insert your favourite name for the current US President here) demands of the FIFA president that there's a rematch....

Time for some Leffe and chips with mayonnaise I reckon. 

Today's song: 

Yeah...Nah....

 Friday was doctor day. It had to be done. It's time to go back on a mental health plan. I think it's a good thing to talk over your mental health needs with a professional when you're in a good place.

So, I trudged over to the doctors, spilled my guts, worked out that I no longer have anxiety, but some lingering depression is there (yeah, yeah, we know) and thrown in the neurodiversity crap. All fun. 

I get my mental health plan. I'm about to leave and she brings up the bear in the room. 

"Have you thought about going on weight loss medication?" she asked. 

"Umm, we tried Ozempic - I didn't like it. Made me feel awful."

"The drugs have changed a lot. Montjaro and Wegovy are much better than Ozempic."

"Really. And they're still expensive."

"Not as bad as Ozempic," she tells me.

"And they make your hair fall out..." I ask. 

"Yes, that is one of the downsides." she tells me.

"Well, count me out. If it's going to make my hair fall out, I'm not interested. I'm a Leo. I need my mane."

"It's not a great side effect."

"Definitely not interested. Besides, the Ritalin drives down my appetite. It's a good thing."

We left the conversation there. 

You can't part a Leo with her mane. It's not going to happen. 

Today's song: 

Movie Review: Tuner

 Movie Number 26 of 2026

The Movie: Tuner

The Cinema: The Kino, Collins Street

Runtime: One hour 47 minutes

Stars: 5

I went into this film blind and was blown away. I love when that happens. I knew there was a good chance that I'd like it. I mean, I like Leo Woodall and Dustin Hoffman. It's a New York story - and it's a bit offbeat. What I didn't see coming was the movie's soundscape, the soundtrack and the brilliant pace of this heist / thriller / drama. It's got a great pace and a huge heart.

Yet, Tuner has so much more. I love how this film was made, the story, the condition which makes Niki (Leo Woodall) both a character of sympathy, but this condition provides his special skill. 

And the film's soundscape is extraordinary. 

\

p]+2

At the start of the movie, we meet Niki working with Harry (Dustin*9 Hoffman) in Harry's piano tuning business. Harry is a lovely octagenarian wide boy services the pianos of New York - well, Niki does the work, Harry naps. 

We soon find out two things about Niki. Firstly, he has a condition, hyperacusis, which makes him hypersensitive to sound - almost any sound. Quiet sounds are fine, but anything louder than a couple of people talking and Niki's in pain. He wears earplugs most of the time - noise cancelling headphones for the rest. 

When Harry falls ill, Niki makes it his mission to pay his hospital bills. Having found his super-sensitive hearing allows him to crack safes, he falls in with a dodgy security firm, who use his talents an pay him well. 

In the background, he meets Ruthie (Havana Rose Liu), a music student at the conservatorium, who he meets on a tuning job. Ruthie is initially prickly, but things happen. 

And of course, the safe cracking jobs are fine until they're not. 

A wonderful set up for a heist movie. 

A couple of things stood out for me. Firstly, the movie's soundscape. We get a good insight into what Niki is hearing - and it's amazing. I'd be putting this one up for a Best Sound Oscar. The sound track is also great, being a mix of original compositions, classical and jazz standards and a bit of Nina Simone for good measure. 

Daniel Roher's script is punchy but laced with pathos. He also directed the film - and has done a great job with it, keeping the pace going while not overegging the sentimentality. 

As somebody who sometimes struggles with noise sensitivity, I got this film - and left me feeling being seen. 

It's seriously a great concept and a thoroughly enjoyable movie. It's on at most of the art house cinemas, but it's coming to the end of its run. Check it out when it gets onto the streaming services and thank me later. 

Today's song:

et it 

Sunday Stealing Questions - 4 July

 It's the 4th of July. 

I'm Australian. I have a few friends who have their birthday today - that's about as special as it gets. Sorry Americans. 

But these are short, sharp and shiny, so I'll get them out of the way before I go off to the gym.

Questions, as always, come from Sunday Stealing. 

4th of July Questions

1) If you could attend a 4th of July fireworks display anywhere in the United States, where would you choose?

Sorry, I'll be blunt. I'm not a fan of fireworks - the noise and the light trigger me. Also, as an outsider, with some fairly defined views about the current administration, I highly doubt I'd get through immigration and customs without being locked up or turned around at the border (if they gave me a visa at all.)

I suppose, if I had ear protection and a reasonable vantage point away from the action, I'd like to watch the fireworks next to the Charles River in Boston. I love Boston. 

2) What book are you currently reading?

On paper, I literally just finished Matt Haig's The Midnight Train. It was alright - I preferred The Midnight Library a lot more - this came across as a bit preachy.    

I will start Amor Towles' The Lincoln Highway when I get back from the gym. It's our book group book for this month.       

3) What have you been listening to?

If I have music on it's normally 80s and 90s alternative music, lots of Talking Heads, The Pixies, Bowie and The Rolling Stones. 

I listen to a lot of audiobooks. I finished Kate Atkinson's Life After Life last night. It was excellent. It was so good that I picked up the audiobook of A God in Ruins, the follow-on book. She's a great author. 

4) What shows or movies have you been watching?

Today, I went and saw Tuner, a movie about a piano tuner who finds his way into some very dodgy operations. It was fantastic. One of the best things I've seen this year. 

As for televisin - It's the normal rotation of Netflix and family history docos. 

Happy Fourth of July to the Americans out there. 

Today's song: 

Theatre Review: Hamlet

The Performance: Eddie Izzard's Hamlet

The Space: The Fairfax Studio at the Arts Centre

Until July 12 (Limited tickets available)

Runtime: 2 hours 15 minutes with an interval

Stars: 5

"Tell your friends, get on the socials. Let them know there's a trans woman doing Hamlet. It's gotta be pissing somebody off somewhere." These were Suzy Izzard's parting words. 

Them's fighting words. Good on her.

Suzy, as she likes to be known, along with using she/her pronouns, is phenomenal this a one woman working of the Bard's seminal play. 

Yes, a solo show where the performer takes on Hamlet. Who knew?

This was mesmerising. 

Regular visitors to this blog know that I'm a Shakespeare boffin. I've probably seen Hamlet a dozen times over the years. I love a good lugubrious Dane taking arms against the sea of a family shit show (see what I did there?)

Of course, an unabridged Hamlet runs to around four hours - and you can always hunt out Branagh's 1996 masterpiece for that (Anybody up for seeing that next time it's on at the Astor?)

This is a one-woman abridged version of Hamlet. 

It is stunning. 

There are no sets. There are no props (Izzard's amazing manicure the only bit of extra) There's a spotlight with some shadow tracking from the front of the stage. For the next two-and a-bit hours, she plays all the characters. 

Yep. One woman and one of the Bard's most complex plays. 

And she is magnificent. Flicking across accents and scenes, Izzard is a professional of the highest order. The funny bits stay funny. The poignant bits tug at your heart strings. She navigates this monster of a play with skill and seeming ease. 

I loved that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were portrayed as sock puppets (that was genius). Her mad Ophelia was heart rending. She got the ghost just right. She's amazing. 

The thing that makes Shakespeare is a lot of its back and forth, which is what she did, flicking between characters, accents, gesticulation and mannerisms with a jump. Having watched her on stage for decades, I was aware of her stalking around the stage. For this, with the absence of props, sets and costumes. 

It's exactly in this stripped back performance where the brilliance lies. You listen for the words, wait for the soliloquys and anticipate what will happen next. 

If you're not familiar with Hamlet, this may not be the performance for you. It definitely helps if you know the play and its intricacies. 

We had a discussion at interval. Only one of us had never seen Hamlet before, but had some knowledge of the main speeches.

"But what's going to happen next?"

"Oh, you know, they have to have Ophelia go mad, top herself, everybody gets in a tizzy, Hamlet comes back to Denmark, they bury Ophelia, there's a big fight and they all end up dead."

'Oh. In 45 minutes?"

"Yep. And she's broken for interval at the normal place. That bit with Polonius - they extract that for laughs. The "Goodnight, Mother," is in the text."

Which is harder to do when there is only one of you on stage. 

Which, when you think about it. Izzard has absorbed a four-hour play, distilled it and played it in a theatre with the lights turned down, but not off, so she can see our faces as well as we can see hers. 

This is a treat. I feel honoured to have seen it.

And to those unhappy people out there that there's a trans woman playing Hamlet - seriously, I mourn for your world view. We need more genius, compassion and excellence like this. 

(And I'd love the name and number of her nail technician)

Go if you can. Is it the best Hamlet I've seen? No. But it is a brilliant performance all around. 

It's sublime. 

Today's song: