The timing of the Spanish Film Festival could not be better, as Sydney plunges into winter, the warmth of the stories, the sun drenched cinematography, and the hot stories from Spain, are truly what the soul needs.
One of the stand outs of the program is the critically acclaimed, multi award winning film about a humble bus driver in charge of route 47 in Barcelona. Little did I expect to be so emotionally moved by a story about a bus driver! But what Manolo stands for is much more than his job, his bus route or career. He comes from a suburb on the outskirts of Barcelona, where each house was built by hand, brick by brick, by Spanish refugees escaping the impoverished and corrupt Andalusian and Extremaduran communities.
Even though the locals bought the land in the Torre Baro district with their own money, they have lived for years as second class citizens of Barcelona, with barely any access to running water, paved roads or political representation.
When Manolo, driving for the city Transport Services, sees the neighbourhood losing its young people, with his own home beginning to crumble away and his wife begging to move away, he decides on one last act of rebellion. After all other politically correct avenues fail – he decides to hijack his bus and take it up to the suburb which politicians labelled unreachable.
The beautiful subtlety of the main actor tugs on the heart strings as you witness what one man’s act of rebellion can achieve. Too often we are told one ‘man’ cannot achieve anything against the ‘greater machine’ but in this true story, that one man’s act of rebellion changes everything!
I stand with Manolo! I want to hijack my own proverbial bus and make a change for the better.
The Penelopiad is a novella written by Margaret Atwood as a mythological reimagining of the classic Greek tale of Homer’s Odyssey. But, unlike Odyssey, The Penelopiad follows a linear structure, making the tale somewhat easier to follow. Atwood’s storytelling gives Odysseus’ wife, Penelope, a voice and allows the account to be told from her perspective. As such, Atwood has been accused of writing a feminist story, which she denies, but given her well-publicised views on feminism, this is an interesting consideration. What this storytelling does is highlight the difference a perspective can make.
From the Underworld, Penelope begins by telling of her childhood, at which time her father tried to drown her, but she survived, saved by a flock of ducks. Her twelve maids, who were later hanged by Penelope’s son, Telemachus and Odysseus, often interrupt her storytelling to voice their experiences, which contrast with Penelope’s privilege, as they recount their suffering. Penelope’s marriage to Odysseus is built on a lie as he cheats in a running race to win her hand, but ultimately she does fall in love with him and is not aware of the deception.
Odysseus spends 10 years in Troy defending the honour of King Menelaus and over this time Penelope is tasked with finding another suitor as Odysseus is not returning home. Following Penelope’s orders, The Maid’s plight ends horribly. When Odysseus eventually returns home, he engages his childhood nurse Eurycleia to tell him which of Penelope’s maids have been disloyal to him and he and his son Telemachus hang the disloyal twelve.
Penelope’s maids avoid her in the Underworld, and she still blames Helen (King Menelaus’ wife) for the Trojan War. She also continues to meet Odysseus whenever one of his new lives ends, as he consistently chooses to be reborn into the world of the living. However, the maids are tireless in their pursuit of Odysseus, haunting him on earth and in the Underworld.
The University of Adelaide Theatre Guild has taken on the mammoth task of bringing this story to life and, overall, the cast worked cohesively and were clearly committed to making the production a success. The Twelve Maids choral work was a welcome interlude as they executed Kristin Stefanoff’s original music beautifully, especially when considering their primary job was as dramatic performers. Costuming was effective and better utilised in the second half when the maids’ roles as both male and female characters were distinguished by the wearing of masks.
The moving of a seating prop was somewhat noisy and distracting – hopefully, this will not be the case in upcoming performances. The fight scene was well-choreographed but lacked intensity, although this may develop throughout the run of the production. Direction was imaginative in its use of the intimate space that the University’s Little Theatre provides.
Jane Ford portrayed Penelope with a convincing level of believability (a massive role full of lengthy monologues that this actor performed without one stumble – bravo), Theo Papazis did a credible job of his portrayal of Odysseus, but his Australian accent broke the characterisation on occasion. The Twelve Maids were committed to their roles; however, the wearing of modern nail polish, face piercings and modern jewellery felt out of place in this production. Kudos for a standout performance for this reviewer was Fredrick Pincombe as Telemachus – this is an actor to be watched!
The Penelopiad runs from 23 May to 1 June 2025; remaining session dates and times are as follows:- – Wednesday 28 May at 6:30pm (with post-show Q&A) – Thursday 29 May at 7:30pm – Friday 30 May at 7:30pm – Saturday 31 May at 3pm – Sunday 1 June at 3pm
Mothers are supposed to feel an instant, unbreakable bond with their newborn child; or at least, that’s what we’re led to believe. Austrian director, Johanna Moder’s new film, Mother’s Baby, bleakly reminds us that this isn’t always the case.
Forty year old music conductor Julia (Marie Leuenberger) and her loving husband, Georg (Hans Löw), desperately want a baby. When nature doesn’t deliver, they seek the help of Dr Vilfort (Claes Bang), a renowned fertility specialist. In Vilfort’s pristine private clinic, Moder introduces early on an axolotl, a strange looking amphibian that catches Julia’s interest but comes to haunt her (and viewers) later in the film.
With Dr Vilfort’s treatment proving successful, Julia and Georg wait expectantly for the birth of their longed for child. Yet the birth is a difficult one. The baby is whisked away by a medical team as soon as it is born. Moder captures Julia and Georg’s muted shock as they are kept in limbo waiting to meet their baby. When Julia finally gets to hold her baby, she seems underwhelmed, even detached from the child. Julia’s struggle to breastfeed only heightens her disappointment. An overly zealous midwife played by Julia Franz Richter doesn’t help as she pushes Julia to bottle feed instead.
Once home, Julia, long used to being in control in her professional life, continues to struggle to bond with her baby. Usually surrounded by music, the weirdly silent baby she has birthed, starts to unnerve her. Is there something wrong with the child or is Julia paranoid? Hans’ instant bond with their son, who Julia persists in referring to as ‘it’, adds to Julia’s distress.
In one particularly tense moment, Hans returns home from work to be greeted by the sight of Julia engrossed in her music, oblivious to her unfed baby. Julia’s sudden identity shift from world class conductor to stay at home mother has hit her hard. Hans fails to understand, reminding Julia as they argue that ‘It’s what we agreed!’. Is Julia’s lack of maternal connection with her baby a tell-tale sign of postpartum depression or is there something more sinister at play?
Increasingly frustrated by Julia’s unexpected reaction to new motherhood even the normally placid Georg starts to doubt his wife’s mental stability. Returning to Dr Vilfort, Julia insists there is something wrong with her baby, demanding answers from the preternaturally cool physician. In what smacks of medical misogyny, Vilfort condescendingly suggests Julia is the problem. We cringe as Georg joins cravenly with the doctor in agreeing that Julia needs help.
Moder’s psychologically chilling story of new motherhood achieves its aim of unnerving its viewers so that they feel vicariously the altered reality of the postpartum phase. Billed as a dark comedy, the film is inconsistent in creating humour; nonetheless, Moder is successful in capturing the absurdity of motherhood in a world which continues to unfairly insist on idealising maternity.
A company well known for their pantomimes, comedies, and British farces; Tea Tree Players Theatre Company offer something within the same vein but perhaps at an all-new extreme. Julie Datson’s production of ‘The Farndale Avenue Housing Estate Townswomen’s Guild Dramatic Society Murder Mystery – Murder at Checkmate Manor’ will take audiences back to the era of cheesy country town hall entertainment, complete with dated fashion parades, cute quizzes during interval, and constantly breaking the fourth wall.
At the doors of the theatre, the audience is greeted and invited in by Thelma (Hayley Mitchell) who tells us she has recently been crowned ‘Miss Farndale 2025’, loudly and excitedly ushering people in. The unorthodox and absurd tone of the show is further consolidated as people are seated with elements of the small, deliberately flimsy set falling apart and the crew coming onstage to attempt to ‘fix’ them. With set walls appearing to be rushed in quality, the stair rail frequently wobbling out of place, the chess set often collapsing, chairs malfunctioning, and curtains constantly drooping, complete chaos is expected to follow.
The cast matches this level of calamity with their characters’ deliberately bad acting, including the monotonous recitation of lines, poorly timed or incorrect entrances, skipping pages of dialogue, forgotten or incomplete costume changes, uncontrollable giggling, and the correcting and prompting of each other on stage. As the show progresses, moments range from entertaining to excruciating as the plot is lost amongst the theatrical carnage, and while the identity of the murderer may be obvious, the ending is not.
With the challenge to act badly well, the actors certainly rose to the occasion and were clearly able to have a lot of fun with it. Chris Galipo channels the benevolent Mrs Reece, overwhelmed by having taken on too many characters whilst hosting and managing the community event as well. Mitchell’s Thelma is earnestly demanding in her attempts to be the centre of attention, enthusiastically delivering many of her lines to the audience rather than her co-stars. Jo-Anne Davis’s awkward performance as Felicity is comical, as she tries to navigate which side of stage to come through and juggle the incredibly quick costume changes between Butler Pawn and Colonel King.
Meredith Kreig is hysterical as Audrey, whose various characters involve a deadpan voice or giggles at inappropriate moments. Finally, Ashleigh Merriel as Sylvia, who plays Inspector O’Reilly, is fantastically matter of fact and tired of everyone else mucking around. Together, this cast lean into everything that goes wrong and encourage each other to reach the extreme of their scene.
While the set was compact, the space was used well between the five performers as it wasn’t often that they were all on at the same time. While the large white armchair, stair railing, and chessboard were central pieces, there were photographs and various ornaments scattered around were small details that added nicely to the community feel. Lighting and sound were used to keep the gags going, particularly when black outs came too early or late, the wrong sound effect was used, or just to emphasise comic timing. However, it can also be said that there comes a point where less is more, and some niche references to home video narration will go over the heads of those under the usual demographic of about 65.
Sprinkled through with the occasional innuendo and plenty of shenanigans, this production was filled with many moments where they’re so bad they’re good.
