God bless stumble

Stumble: a fantastic way of coming across interesting random sites... Stumbleupon.com

this one was too good to resist: a doll falling... forever

w

The Proposition

Walking out of ‘The Proposition’ it was hard not to picture my suburb as it would have been two hundred years ago. The landscape has not changed. The ridge upon which I live will always be a ridge, and the coves and inlets that form the harbour side around my area will always be coves and inlets and I can imagine that even the gum trees that line my street could have been around in days of yore. All this was running through my head as I walked home from the cinema this evening.

The movie itself was fantastic. A victorious combination of good guys with no morals, bad guys with good morals, a lawless bunch of individuals that cared not for morals, small town mob mentality, class division, family, betrayal, revenge and cunning. With a script by Nick Cave, music by Warren Ellis and the ochre tonnes of the Australian outback as the support how could you go wrong. The absurdities of British culture shone through like no tomorrow. The clothes, the titles, the hierarchy, the candlelit Christmas turkey lunch in the middle of a sweltering Australian summer… they all added up. The depiction of the Irish as lower class ruffians was spot on, as was the illustration of indigenous involvement in the outback stations (read: submit or be labelled a rebel).

At the end of the day it was the script, the music and the scenery that made the movie for me. The concept of isolation and the small town mentality that results from being away from society came through in every aspect of the film (the most memorable example would be the nervous aggression the townspeople demonstrate as a collective contrasted with the weak indecision they displayed as individuals).

Given that Nick Cave is famous for propelling his villainously, twisted stories along on a bed of tension and cinematic imagery it not surprising that it is these same elements that make the backbone of this film. What is surprising is the ease with which his stories translate to the big screen, given they are often subtle by nature with underlying themes that often only reveal themselves after a good few listens.

To conclude: I liked the film a lot. It was a solid Australian period piece, the law was just evil enough, the lawless were just moral enough… and there was just enough innocence to bring the plot to the boil.

Here is what Dave and Marg had to say: 'At the movie's' review

Mental Note: Movies still to see

Is it just me or is there a tonne of movies out at the moment? Felt like writing them down before I forgot just how many I haven’t seen.

• Wallace and Grommit Movie
  
• Oyster Farmer (Aust)
• Little Fish (Aust)
• Mad Hot Ballroom
• Spellbound
  
• Mysterious Skin
• Look Both Ways (Aust)
• The Assassination of Richard Nixon
• Downfall
• Travellers & Magicians
• The Sea Inside
• Touching the Void
• The Aviator
• Passion of Christ
  
• Somersault (Aust)
• Waking Life
• Spirited Away
• The Control Room
• Metallica: Some Kind of Monster
• Weeping Camel
• Landmines: A Love Story
• Tibet: Cry of the Snow Lion
• Capturing the Friedmans
• My Left Foot
• Crying Game
• Nightmare Before Christmas
• Rabbit Proof Fence
• Australian Rules
  
• City of Lost Children (French)
• Anchorman
• Monsoon Wedding
• Praise
  
• Office Space
• Raging Bull
• Mean Streets
• Bad Boy Bubby
  

My first foray into the world of photos

This is a photo of Byron Bay... taken in July 2004, during a road trip from Sydney to Brisbane.

This is a photo taken of the land about fifteen minutes from my house. It's hard to believe it's in the middle of Sydney.

Banjo Paterson on Australia

The Mountains
A land of sombre, silent hills, where mountain cattle go
By twisted tracks, on sidelings steep, where giant gumtrees grow
And the wind replies, in the river oaks, to the song of the stream below.

A land where the hills keep watch and ward, silent and wide awake
As those who sit by a dead campfire, and wait for the dawn to break,
Or those who watched by the Holy Cross for the dead Redeemer's sake.

A land where silence lies so deep that sound itself is dead
And a gaunt grey bird, like a homeless soul, drifts, noiseless, overhead
And the world's great story is left untold, and the message is left unsaid.


The Plains
A land, as far as the eye can see, where the waving grasses grow
Or the plains are blackened and burnt and bare, where the false mirages go
Like shifting symbols of hope deferred - land where you never know.

Land of plenty or land of want, where the grey Companions dance,
Feast or famine, or hope or fear, and in all things land of chance,
Where Nature pampers or Nature slays, in her ruthless red, romance.

And we catch a sound of a fairy's song, as the wind goes whipping by,
Or a scent like incense drifts along from the herbage ripe and dry
- Or the dust storms dance on their ballroom floor, where the bones of the cattle lie.

A dream of Australian culture

This morning we arrived back in sunny Sydney... all the way from sunny Queensland. The weather has taken a turn for the better and is charging into a brilliant summer. Today was set to be a fantastic 34 degrees, this means BEACH!!!!!!! Yesterday I was lying around on Surfers Paradise (TM), this morning I took a walk down to Balmoral Beach. If I had a digital camera there would be photos. It is moments like this I am proud to live in Australia.

We (the MC team and the LCPs) were up in Queensland, or more specifically: Warrick, for our annual presidents meeting. The conference site was set out in what I would call: bush. If you rose early in the morning you could see wallabies hoping off in the far fields, cows drifted through neighbouring paddocks and the site owners were a rare bread of country hospitality. This was the Australia that we are so proud to promote as our international image. What gets me the most is the trees… the combination of solitary grey gums with sparse foliage is something that conjures up a sense of… comradery and loneliness akin to the poetry of Paterson and the paintings of Albert Namatjira. This all sounds a little romantic and possibly a little over the top, but it is a rare occasion when I stop and look at the country we possess outside of Sydney.

There are times when I stop and wonder: could this terrain exist in any other part of the world. The answer is irrelevant but it does make me wonder how much I value my own country. Every time I set foot outside of the cities I am amazed at what we have to offer. Whether it is the Great Dividing Range, the national parks, the forests that stretch from Sydney to Newcastle… there is definitely something there.

It is a common thing for Australians to travel the globe several times over before ever considering our own country. Amongst my friends we have scoured every continent, every region of the world, from Laos to London, Bolivia to Belarus, Russia to Romania, China to Chile, but I cannot think of a single friend that has devoted the time to my own country. During my own travels I have listened time and time again to our traveler’s tales of my own country. Grape picking in South Australia, hitchhiking across the Nullabor. Why do we feel the need to travel across the world to find our adventures?

Time and time again I hear trainees compare my country to its English speaking relatives… and what are we doing to dispel this concept? Nothing… Time and time again we stumble when attempting to describe Australian culture, we define ourselves by what we are not rather than what we are. Me thinks it is time to revisit some of our own past and celebrate the poetry and culture that was so celebrated in the earlier part of this century.

TO CONCLUDE: Nick Cave’s movie: ‘The Proposition’ opens this week. Looks fantastic. If I could have a truly Australian experience I would be driving due west listening to the sounds of the Dirty Three a truly haunting band from Melbourne.