Author: Lisa Roberts

There is nothing Lisa loves more than delving beneath the surface to catch a glimpse of the hidden mechanisms that bring the magic to the screen. She first studied film in a pioneering course, Rough Beasts are Slouching, directing with St Martins Youth Theatre and she has completed a postgraduate certificate in writing with Swinburne University.

It Snows in Benidorm

Rated: MA 15+It Snows in Benidorm

Directed by: Isabel Coixet

Produced by: El Deseo, Pedro And Agustín Almodóvar

Starring: Timothy Spall, Sarita Choudhury, Ana Torrent, Carmen Machi.

For years, nice guy Peter Riordan (Timothy Spall) has been losing himself in the modest comforts of his daily life. The four ginger nut biscuits he carefully lines up to dunk in his solitary cup of tea every morning, the photograph of the sky he snaps before breakfast and the satisfaction he takes when he finds compassionate and sustainable solutions for his clientele. With his work unappreciated and made to report to a much younger man, Peter’s ethics are out of step with the slick practices and doublespeak of contemporary banking and he eventually finds himself pushed into an early retirement.

That is just the nudge Peter has needed to take up his brother’s invitation to come and stay with him in his apartment on the Mediterranean coast at Benidorm. Only there is no sign of his brother by the time Peter lands at Alicante Airport. Daniel has just vanished. At a complete loss, Peter finds himself ushered up to his brother’s flash but slightly trashy apartment, from where he sets about trying to find Daniel through the traces his brother has left behind.

As Peter is very much an archetypical outsider who spends much of his time alone, director Isabel Coixet uses a voiceover to as a way to convey Peter’s thoughts. It’s a risky technique but, in this instance, it is reasonably subtle and it does underscore how solitary Peter’s existence is. At the same time, the feeling of alienation and distance Coixet achieves is at odds with the feeling of being caught up in the moment, which makes watching films so compelling.

However, I was soon yanked back into Benidorm’s ambiance when Peter goes out for the evening and winds up at his brother’s nightclub. He arrives just as a chunky Elvis impersonator is finishing a very amateurish but moving version of ‘The King’s’ In the Ghetto. This is followed by an act put on by Daniel’s business partner, the slinky, leather-clad, prawn-head-chomping Alex, whose seductive gyrations instantly beguile Daniel, as well as holding everyone else in the audience in thrall.

Benidorm is a place that holds a strange attraction. On the surface it is a gaudy tourist resort and party town that thrives on sunny mornings and long, tropical nights, at the same time it is a place with a seamy underbelly infiltrated by the mafia and shady dealers. But Benidorm is also an outpost where the locals live their lives according to their own sense of poetry and philosophy. This, they attribute to the celebrated poet Sylvia Plath having rented a beachside cottage there in the 1950s.

As Peter spends more time prowling around the city in search of his brother, Benidorm itself gradually becomes one of the characters, with its own subtle methods of alluring and beguiling those who thought they were just passing through and even those seeking to escape.

While there might be some echoes of Citizen Kane in Peter’s quest to find his errant brother, it is not the deepest truth about Daniel that Peter uncovers, rather he finds a conduit into the workings of his own long-suppressed desires.

It Snows in Benidorm is a beautifully filmed and thoughtful drama, buoyed by a gentle humour and unexpected moments of lyricism.

India Sweets and Spices

Rated: MIndia Sweets and Spices

Directed and Written by: Geeta Malik

Produced by: John Penotti, Sidney Kimmel, Gigi Pritzker, Naomi Despres

Starring: Sophia Ali, Manisha Koirala, Rish Shah, Adil Hussain, Deepti Gupta, Anita Kalathara.

India Sweets and Spices presents a feast of Indian food and a glittering array of saris as the residents of Ruby Hill dress to the hilt for a weekly rotation of dinner parties during the holiday season. When Alia (Sophia Ali), the eldest daughter a successful heart surgeon (Adil Hussain), returns home from her first year away at university she is expected to play the role of demure Indian daughter looking to attract a suitable husband at these gatherings, but she has long ago outgrown her part. Now she cannot even pretend that she doesn’t find life in this bourgeois Indian enclave utterly stultifying. On the night before her departure she confides to a friend that it’s: ‘The place where brain cells go to die’.

During her time at UCLA, Alia has become heavily involved in social justice issues and takes it as her right that she is entitled to speak out and act upon what she believes in. Much to the horror of her mother. Sheila (Manisha Koirala) is not only a bored but devoted housewife and hostess extraordinaire, she is also the unofficial queen of the Ruby Hill social scene, and she is a woman with a past. It is a secret she has been keeping from her children and the community. In a community where everyone has a secret.

Once a haven for new arrivals looking to safely establish themselves in their adopted country, Ruby Hill has over time become a locked cage, where the corrosive tongues of ‘the aunties’ not only keep the residents in and in line but also keep new arrivals out. On the surface life is uncomplicated and easy in this enclave of backyard swimming pools, luxury vehicles and fantasy weddings where a groom might ride in on a tiger, but the entire community is being held hostage to the threat of exposure and embarrassment. It is a powerful deterrent, but the carefully manicured web of illusion this coterie has cultivated around themselves is impossible to maintain, even with the most watchful of blind eyes.

When Alia locks eyes with her new beau (Rish Shah) in the biscuit aisle of the local Indian grocery store and on impulse invites him and his family to a weekly dinner party, it will tug at a thread that will eventually unravel all of the secrets. Beginning with, possibly, the biggest secrets of all. The ones her own family have been keeping from her.

This feminist romantic comedy/ coming of age drama begins with a finely wrought script from Geeta Malik, with some precisely-calibrated lines for Alia to deploy against the ‘aunties’. Originally reading for the part of Alia’s best friend Neha (Anita Kalathara), Sophia Ali has been beautifully cast Alia Kapur as she tenaciously pursues the question, ‘What if we are who we are and then we don’t recognise ourselves anymore?’ It’s not only a question for Alia; the conundrum equally applies to Sheila and Ranjit when their secrets are finally revealed. As it is, perhaps, for many more in their circle.

Mental As Everything

Featuring: Damon Smith, Adam CoadMental as Everything

Music: Damon Smith, Adam Coad, Barney McCall

Creator: Damon Smith

Producer: Matthew Briggs

Mental as Everything is a documentary that uses a quirky combination of animation, original music and lyrics and direct to camera discussion to tell the story of two musicians who provide mutual support and understanding for each other’s mental health conditions.

Even from the very first scene, it is obvious that it hasn’t been easy for Damon Smith and Adam Coad to share so much of themselves with the camera. This becomes clear when Damon introduces himself: ‘On the screen there is Damon Smith and that is me and this is my voice talking about myself while you watch me on the screen’. Immediately followed by, ‘This is awkward.’ And to double down on his point the word ‘Awkward’ appears in bright yellow letters against a black screen.

At first, Damon’s introduction does appear self-conscious and awkward, but it points up an interesting motif woven through the documentary. Damon is identifying himself as both an onscreen character and someone existing somewhere off screen giving voice and motivation to his onscreen likeness. This sense of duality is one of the things I found so fascinating about Damon and Adam’s story.

In some of the animations and in the lyrics of their songs Damon and Adam personify their conditions, with Adam describing panic attacks as lying in wait behind bushes while Damon poignantly refers to his Obsessive Compulsive Disorder as an, ‘Outlandish Centralised Dictatorship’. This duality is a way, I think, to separate themselves from their conditions and give some critical distance to their inner torment.

On another level, Adam describes his mind as a seedy bar filled with sketchy characters, each more heinous than the next. While, at the same time, he acknowledges that, ‘Nothing is broken on the outside.’ On the outside, Damon and Adam are two very likeable and easy going mates and it is hard to fathom that they each have such a Sisyphean struggle going on inside themselves.

In giving this window onto their inner worlds, it is Damon and Adam’s intention to de-stigmatise their conditions, but their documentary is also filled with interesting snippets along the way, such as bananas being natural beta blockers that inhibit some of the physical effects of anxiety and as well as attempting to gently debunk some of the misconceptions that still cling.

When someone who likes to be clean and organised humble brags, ‘OMG! I’m so OCD,’ its not OCD that they are boasting about. For Damon having OCD is torture. One of his compulsions requires him to fulfill a ritual where he puts on and removes his socks seven times, and he must repeat the ritual until it has been executed to the implacable standards of the dictator within, otherwise there will be a ‘hellish outcome’. The humble bragger is actually referring to a much less cruel condition, Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder.

Mental as Everything is a sensitive documentary that deals with its subject matter in a creative and insightful way, and Damon and Adam’s music adds to the appeal. A band with a double bass in their line-up is likely to produce an interesting sound and this one with its double bass, piano and drums, original music and lyrics certainly does that.

Gunpowder Milkshake

Rated: MA 15+Gunpowder Milkshake

Directed by: Navot Papushado

Screenplay by: Navot Papushado, Ehud Lavski

Producers: Andrew Rona, p.g.a. Alex Heineman, p.g.a

Starring: Karen Gillan, Lena Headey, Chloe Coleman, Paul Giamatti, Carla Gugino, Michelle Yeoh, Angela
Bassett.

Gunpowder Milkshake opens to the sounds of a thunderstorm as lone assassin Sam (Karen Gillan) is
completing a hit in her target’s apartment. A rhythmic thudding draws her attention so she turns toward the door. Behind it is a small militia with all guns drawn and pointed at her.

Later, when she is tucked up at home watching TV and casually stitching a flesh wound on her own arm, Sam receives a call summoning her to meet with Nathan (Paul Giamatti), her handler and front man for a shadowy cabal called The Firm.

She’s in trouble.

‘It was supposed to be a low profile gig, not a massacre.’

She has killed the wrong man and The Firm wants to cut her loose, leaving her unprotected.

One of the attackers Sam dispatched was the son of an influential crime figure that The Firm wants onside. When his henchmen find her, Jim McAlester (Ralph Ineson) has vowed, ‘to do terrible things’ to her.

There is only one place left for Sam to turn. The Library. A front and an armoury for a nest of female assassins.

Filmed in Berlin, director Navot Papushado’s city has that otherworldly, Dark City-esque sense of a city forever in darkness lit with glowing neon, a city we recognise but can’t quite identify.

In this parallel reality the violence is so extreme, so gratuitous and so utterly over-the-top that it has a cartoon quality, but it’s the crazily inventive and completely goofy situations that arise from the action that set this movie apart.

If Sam is to leave the Dental Surgery she uses as a makeshift hospital, she must fight her way out of an ambush with both of her arms paralysed.

For their side, the faceless men in black suits, The Firm’s board members and McAlester’s mafia-style crime family both represent rigidly hierarchical organisations. ‘They make all the rules and change them when it suits their needs’, always assured of their ability to muster overwhelming force.

When McAlester’s man Virgil (Adam Nagaitis) yells out, ‘You think you have a chance here? I’ve got an army!’ He means it. His boss has sent a bus full of men to take Sam down.

Sheltering from the gunfire behind the library’s check in desk with her mother (Lena Headey), Sam counters, ‘I’ve got my mum’.

Sam’s retort is pitch perfect and it beautifully encapsulates so much of the nuance in the movie. Not only does it acknowledge the fact of Sam’s dearly longed for relationship with her estranged mother in this desperate moment and the ferocity of her mother, she is a formidable ally, but also the way that the movie unobtrusively values the traditionally feminine arts such as sewing alongside gun slinging and close-quarters combat.

Never underestimate a librarian, or the emancipating qualities of good book. The women are kickass in this movie, taking it up to the men on their own terms, even while they have quietly created pockets of resistance that function beneath their notice and an ingenious method to hide their weapons.

This movie is just plain fun to watch.

Herself

Rated: MA 15+Herself

Directed by: Phyllida Lloyd

Written by: Malcolm Campbell, Clare Dunne

Produced by: Sharon Horgan, Ed Guiney, Rory Gilmartin

Starring: Clare Dunne, Harriet Walter, Conleth Hill, Ian Lloyd Anderson.

‘I miss him. I don’t mean him, I mean who he was. I want to fix it.’

This is just one of the many heartbreaking tests to her resolve that a woman must face when she flees her home and her partner to protect herself and her children.

On one level, Herself is a subtle game of cat and mouse between husband and wife (especially on
the husband’s side).

While his character operates mostly from behind the scenes, the escalation of
the husband’s machinations asks whether this is a man sinking into the depths his own desperation
or a monster gradually revealing himself.

At the same time his wife is discovering both the depths and the heights of what she will do to take care of her children.

The film opens on three silhouetted figures and the sounds of children giggling. Two young girls are
inexpertly applying makeup to their mother’s face. Beneath her right eye is a distinctive birthmark,
from a distance it could almost be a black eye, but Sandra (Clare Dunne) asks her daughters not to
cover it up and she relates a sweet story to Emily and Molly about how it makes her special.

Later that afternoon when Gary (Ian Lloyd Anderson) arrives home from work his daughters run to
him, still giggling. This man is clearly not a monster. That is, until he sends his daughters out into the
garden. Gary has found some cash that Sandra had hidden and he fears that she could use the
money to leave him. He wants to make her stay, but what he does next is the very thing that will
ensure that Sandra does leave, however reluctant she may have been to take such a vast step into
the unknown.

As it is, Sandra and her daughters find themselves crammed into a tiny room at an airport hotel and
Gary is forced to move back in with his parents. Although Sandra and the girls adapt to their new
situation, using the airport car park as their own roller skating rink, it’s not a long term solution. But
Sandra cannot go back. Nor can she find her girls a permanent home. Like many parts of the western
world prior to the pandemic, Sandra endures long queues for rental properties that are ultimately
unattainable.

It is not until she is snuggled up with the girls one night and her eldest, Emily, relates a
story that she had heard in class that Sandra lights upon a solution.

She will build her own house.

It’s an unlikely undertaking for a single mother working two low paid jobs and not a single skill related to carpentry or building but, as it turns out, it’s still more likely than finding a rental.

However, trouble is brewing in the wings. When he cannot bribe his girls and he fails to persuade
Sandra to come back to him, Gary resorts to guilt trips and manipulation, and finally he turns to
force. This time, using the courts as his bludgeon.

For once, Sandra is intimidated. She is so fearful that she is even prepared to cover up her birthmark,
if that will help to convince the court that she is a responsible and capable mother.

An engaging cast takes this conversation we as a society must have and raises it to a warm and
engrossing story; even as, at the same time, it is a realistic depiction of the tug of longing, the
practical difficulties, the uncertainty and the disruption to their lives that women and children must
endure when they are forced to abandon their home.

Wishlist

Directed by: Álvaro Díaz LorenzoWishlist

Produced by: Álvaro Díaz Lorenzo

Starring: Victoria Abril, María León, Silvia Alonzo

It’s time for the curtains to open on the Australian premiere of Wishlist: La Lista De Los Deseos, the off the wall comedy headlining the 2021 Spanish Film Festival.

When Eva (María León), a twenty something vet, and Carmen (Victoria Abril), a woman in her early middle age, develop a strong bond during a series of chemotherapy sessions, it lays the groundwork for a madcap road trip heading south from Seville to Morocco via Cadiz while the women await the results of their treatment. Joining them is Eva’s best friend Mar (Silvia Alonzo), a teacher nursing a broken heart and feeling utterly disillusioned by love following the breakup of a long term relationship.

In the opening scene, the trio have managed to land themselves behind bars and the police are at a loss as to how to handle them. It’s the culmination of the women’s time away. ‘A week to fit an entire life into,’ with each ticking off, ‘The three things they always wished they could do and couldn’t,’ from their communal chalkboard. Although, for all three to be locked up together, it did require some ingenuity and a nicely timed dropping of undies. The two strapping officers in charge of the arrest thought they had things under control. They had no idea.

In its advance billing, Wishlist has been frequently compared with the 1990’s hit movie, Thelma and Louise and, while both films feature women resolutely staring down their fate, in some ways, this film is more a mirror image of the earlier one. Thelma and Louise are two friends taking some time away to party as they set out on a fishing trip together. What begins as a light hearted excursion soon descends into darkness as the pair find themselves trapped in the grimy underbelly of small town America.

On the other hand, the women in Wishlist, already facing a dark reality, decide to retaliate. Each feels that they have nothing to lose, so there is absolutely no filter on their behaviour. And that means mayhem. Do not be the one to cross these wayward women and definitely do not steal their parking spot if they happen to be holding a container of chocolate milk. Unless a decent splash of chocolate is the one thing that has missing from your attire. That was Mar’s gleeful contribution to the ‘Me Too!’ movement.

For me, Wishlist is more akin to Pedro Almodovar’s runaway success of the early 90s, Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown with its fast pace and delightfully absurd humour.  While this film at its core takes on a tough subject and doesn’t underplay the experience, it handles it with warmth and lashings of misbehaviour.

By the time the end credits were rolling the audience were applauding and I had the feeling that the last 103 minutes of my time was very well spent. Not in spite of the subject matter, but because of the sensitive but utterly mischievous way it had been presented.

Supernova

Rated: M

Directed and Written by: Harry Macqueen

Produced by: Emily Morgan and Tristan Goligher

Starring: Colin Firth, Stanley Tucci, Pippa Heywood, Peter Macqueen, Nina Marlin.

Birds chitter and chirp and early morning sunlight filters in, glancing across two bodies tangled up in their doona and in each other, as they slumber on in their golden cocoon.

If earthly bliss could be captured, this moment might be it.

Of course, this being fiction we know it cannot last.

Actually, there has been a degree of misdirection, so this scene does not really mean exactly what it appears to mean.

Despite what some may fear, this film is far from maudlin. The script is well thought out and subtle, and the performances by Colin Firth as Sam and Stanley Tucci as Tusker are tender and nuanced.

Sam, a concert pianist, and Tusker, a novelist, are embarking on one last road trip in their campervan before Tusker becomes too incapacitated by the early onset dementia he was diagnosed with two years earlier.

The pair plan to wend their way through the countryside of northern England, stopping off wherever they may find themselves, for their first night a supermarket car park, until they reach Sam’s childhood home and his sister, Lily (Pippa Haywood), who now lives there with her husband Clive (Peter Macqueen) and their young daughter (Nina Marlin). From thence, the couple hope to travel on to the concert venue where Sam is to stage what he expects to be both his comeback performance and his swansong.

While Tusker is doing all in his power to ensure that Sam remains closely connected to his career and to the people who care about him, the trip is his idea, Sam, after much soul searching, realises that he is prepared to sacrifice everything to spend whatever time he can with Tusker.

Woven through their banter and everyday bickering and hinted at in the intent behind their gestures, the deep feeling that the couple share is delicately evoked.

Although the country lanes the couple travel along are verdant and lovely, many of the film’s deeper encounters occur at night as Tusker shares his fascination with the cosmos, first with Sam on a sleepless night as they seek out the Milky Way together and then with his niece Charlotte as they lie on the grass staring up at the stars. In some ways, Sam and Tusker’s journey could be seen as a dark night of the soul.

While the title Supernova is clearly related, its meaning was not immediately obvious to me. So, I began by looking at the way a supernova is defined: an unusually bright star that suddenly lights up the sky, even though the star itself no longer exists. It has already exploded. When translated into film the reciprocal moment is quietly devastating. Lily, attempting to persuade Tusker to accept Sam’s help, says, ‘You’re still Tusker. You’re still the guy he fell in love with’.

Tusker replies, ‘No. I’m not.  I just look like him.’

How to maintain their relationship and their love in the face of this unthinkable reality forms the crux of the couple’s dilemma and the scaffolding for a beautifully wrought and haunting film.

Demon Slayer – Kimetsu No Yaiba – The Movie: Mugen Train

Rated: MA 15+Demon Slayer

Directed by: Haruo Sotozaki

Written by: Ufotable

Produced by: Akifumi Fujio, Masanori Miyake, Yūma Takahashi

Voices: Natsuki Hanae, Akari Kitō,  Yoshitsugu Matsuoka, Hiro Shimono, Akira Ishida

Early in the film, a motley band of friends is racing to jump aboard a steam train that has already begun pulling away from the station. They are hampered by their swords which they need to keep hidden from the other passengers. Even so, they all bring their swords aboard because, ‘You never know when a demon might appear.’

Their plan is to meet up with the revered Flame Hashira, Kyojuro Rengoku (Hiro Shimono), and join him in the Corps of Demon Slayers. Forty passengers have recently disappeared off the Mugen train and there are suspicions that demons have infiltrated the line.

One of the essential differences between this film and its western counterparts is the way that the bad guys are conceptualised. In the west the baddies are stars and their backstory and motivations are often the focus.

Whereas in the Japanese film, demons do not act according to reason. The Japanese demons are almost solely defined by their appearance and their actions. This, of course, switches the role of their heroes also.

I noticed this in particular when I compared Mugen Train with Wonder Woman 1984. While both films are about vanquishing demons there are some significant contrasts.

In Wonder Woman, the evolution of the villain from smarmy snake oil salesman type to world conquering demon is far more nuanced in comparison to the personal journey of the exceptional being graced with magical powers who swoops in to save humanity from a demon who is manipulating the population through their wishes.

In Mugen Train the aspiring demon slayers all hail from humble backgrounds. Even the Flame Hashira Rengoku has come from a modest home and has risen above some heart wrenching setbacks.

The demon slayers could be you or me if we were that devoted to a cause, with Inosuke (Yoshitsugu Matsuoka), the boar-headed one appealing to the lustier side of our natures.

While ravening demons that immediately regenerate may have an unfair advantage in battle, at least until they are beheaded, the demon slayers each have a spiritual core which aligns them to the vast elemental forces of the earth.

Rengoku is able to call upon the Blooming Flame Undulation and Blazing Universe forms to pit against Destructive Death: Air Type of the demon.  Life hangs in the balance as the monster Akaza (Akira Ishida) confronts him with his own mortality, ‘Strength isn’t a word to describe a body . . . If you refuse to become a demon I’ll kill you. You’ll die while you are still young and strong.’

In this film dynamic action sequences and epic battles with a slew of hideous, soul slurping demons, but there is also a deep reverence for the fragility of life this planet and the elements that support our being. This is a film that ends with the question, ‘What’s more important than grief?’ It is a question the film asks so delicately we barely notice that we have been asked, and yet it is asking us to identify what it is that we will fight to the death to save.

Whenever I think of adult animations I usually feel that I have outgrown them so I was in for a surprise. The animation is so sensitively wrought, visually rich and poetically resonant in a piece of filmmaking with subtlety and depth.

Penguin Bloom

Rated: PGPenguin Bloom
Directed by: Glendyn Ivin
Based on the book by: Cameron Bloom and Bradley Trevor Greive
Produced by: Naomi Watts, Emma Cooper, Bruni Papandrea, Steve Hutensky, Jody Matterson
Starring: Naomi Watts, Andrew Lincoln, Jackie Weaver, Griffin Murray-Johnston.

‘Mum’s not the person she once was and she’s not the person she wanted to be.’

When a railing on a rooftop lookout gives way under her weight during an idyllic family holiday in Thailand, Sam (Naomi Watts) plunges several storeys to the ground. Sam had been an ‘awesome’ mum, the type who would go surfing and skateboarding with her three boys and would be at the centre of all the fun until she finds herself wheelchair bound.

The film opens at first light with a soaring bird’s eye view of the cliff tops surrounding Sydney’s Northern Beaches. The ocean is calm and clear, and the location is stunning. It’s a year after Sam’s accident and she is failing to adjust to her new reality. It’s an adjustment that not everyone makes. When the boys fall ill it is their father (Andrew Lincoln) they call for; as a mother she can barely even make the boys a cut lunch for school. Sam has always loved the water, now she dreams that she is sinking to the bottom of the ocean trapped in her wheelchair and, to her horror, it doesn’t feel unpleasant.

It is not only Sam’s vertebrae that are broken, the family are barely managing either. In his room, Noah (Griffin Murray-Johnston) is secretly videotaping the fragments of his mother’s life that have survived after Sam momentarily gives in to her rage and pain and smashes all the photos of her former life hanging above the mantelpiece. Blaming himself for his mother’s accident, Noah cuts himself off.

On a trip to the beach with his brothers, Noah is wandering alone when he notices a large goanna. Following its eye line, he spies a magpie chick in deadly peril. The little black and white bundle of feathers had fallen from its nest high in the treetops and, while it had survived the fall, it had lost its mother and is about to become supper for a hungry reptile.

Noah carries the tiny orphan home, but it cries out pretty raucously whenever it is left alone and it isn’t interested in eating. Even when Penguin settles into the household, the bird is reluctant to fly. Noah muses that maybe Penguin isn’t able to fly because she is motherless: ‘I read that baby birds dream of their mother’s soul and that’s how they learn to sing.’

Penguin’s predicament is, in many ways, a parallel to Sam’s. Neither one was what they might have been before their fall but they will both become, ‘Much more than that’.

Penguin Bloom is a quietly poetic and uplifting film. One that asks those questions for which there are no answers, but need to be asked regardless. Every year 20 million people visit Thailand, and that railing could have collapsed at any time on any one of them, yet it collapsed exactly when it did.

By the way, if you like to walk out as soon as the credits roll you’ll be missing out on a treat this time.

Music

Rated: MMusic

Directed by: Sia

Screenplay by: Sia, Dallas Clayton

Produced by: Vince Landay, Sia

Starring: Kate Hudson, Leslie Odom Jr, Maddie Ziegler.

Music opens onto an eye-poppingly bright yellow stage set, where a carefree girl in headphones twirls to the rhythms of African inspired music. When that scene cuts to the bedroom of the sleeping girl as she begins to awaken, the musical sequence resolves into a window onto the vivid dreams of an autistic girl who can only manage to shamble around in her waking life.

Music is the story of two sisters, Zu (Kate Hudson) and Music (Maddie Ziegler) Zu’s kid sister, each unable to take care of themselves. Zu, growing up with a ‘big’ Junkie for a mother, has followed in her parent’s footsteps, making a career for herself dealing drugs and abusing whatever substances she can scarf down. But Zu is failing badly in her profession, so when the film opens on her she is snoozing her way through a drug and alcohol diversion program. There are no flights into musical fantasy for her, just the cons she is trying to pull when she is awake.

Unlike Zu who has been eking out a life on the margins, the community has taken Music to its heart. Even though Music can barely speak, the news vendor collects clippings of dogs for her and her neighbours each in their own way all look out for her as she shuffles around the inner city streets. Until her beloved Grandmother is taken by a stroke, Music has been comfortably settled in a charmed world. But that is all about to change with Zu coming to take over her care.

Although Music is a heartwarming story and a surprise delivery in the final scene adds the perfect touch, the story takes a long while to take off. There is a fundamental conflict as to whether the film is a musical or a drama. This is particularly so in the early stages before we have had a chance to get know Music and engage with her. Although, the musical interludes have been designed to create a bridge between the mute and ungainly exterior of the girl and the lively person she is within, they slow the drama and for me they were overly long.

At the same time, there is a lot to like about this film and, ultimately, patience will be rewarded. The acting is outstanding, the drama beautifully crafted, the dialogue sparkling and the music sequences improve as they go on to reflect more conflicted inner realities.

Before it has even opened here, Music has sparked controversy with some arguing that the title role should have been played by someone genuinely affected by autism. The film clearly means a great deal to all involved in its production, including a surprise cameo by hard rocker and activist Henry Rollins. I wasn’t expecting that.

But, perhaps I should have been expecting the unexpected in such a quirky film where dealers have found a way to ply their drugs as an act of charity, so now, despite their past misdeeds, they are expecting to go to heaven or at least find their way to paradise.