The Milky Way, the creation of multi-talented Israeli director, writer and editor Maya Kenig is a thought-provoking story with a hint of dystopia surrounding two young mothers and their newborn babies.
Although both women live very different lives, Tala a single mum and struggling indie musician, and Nili, a wealthy married housewife, their desperation for wanting the best for their own child leads them to consciously choosing to have each other in their lives.
When Tala accepts a job at a breast milk production company called The Milky Way, she sees it as an easy way to make money. The women who work there are required to pump milk in their plush cubicles fitted with pumping equipment, a comfortable reclining armchair, and a screen showing images of their babies and much like dairy cows, uninterrupted views of the green paddock.
The job is portrayed like any other regular job where the employees have lunch breaks, must seek approval of management if they need to take time off, and are reprimanded for breaking the rules. It doesn’t take too long for the feisty and head strong Tala to start breaking the rules.
Curiosity gets the better out of Tala, played by real life musician, Hila Rauch, when she hitches a ride with a milkman on his way to do his rounds and discovers that one of the homes he is dropping off milk is the home of the woman who is receiving her breast milk, Nili, played by Hadas Yaron. Wanting to know more about this woman, Tala sneaks into the house and hides herself. She manages to escape but fate brings her back to Nili when she realises she has left her phone in Nili’s house.
Nili eventually finds out that she has been the recipient of Tala’s milk but her paranoia steers her to making a proposal too good for Tala to refuse, especially given Tala’s precarious situation at that time.
The women form a friendship and bond over motherhood but there’s always an imbalance of power that looms in the background of their friendship. That imbalance of power comes to light when Tala crosses a line with Nili and is forced reflect on whether she is giving more of herself away than just her milk.
The film touches on ethical and moral issues in an entertaining manner without it being so obvious. The exploitation of vulnerable lower income mothers, the judgment women face for not breast feeding are just a few.
More strongly targeted at women, this is a film any woman will find engrossing whether they’re a mother or not.
“Diane Warren: Relentless” is a documentary that portrays the making of one of the world’s most successful songwriters. A Golden Globe, Oscar and Grammy winner, this film is an honest and well portrayed depiction of how Diane struggled, grew, and achieved as an artist, publisher and relentless business owner. With her music catalogue worth over a billion dollars and having worked with more than 450 recording artists, it is clear that Diane has more than earned the spotlight in this feature.
Following Diane around the landmarks of her childhood and young adult life, we see a highly creative and possibly rebellious personality and how Diane struggles with the ebbs and flows of their music career. From her early years, writing songs in the bathroom of her family home, to negotiating contracts with Cher, Lady Gaga, Aerosmith, Beyonce and many, many more.
The film highlighted various accounts from friends and colleagues who colourfully expressed their connection with and love for Diane, while painting a clearer picture of who she is as a songwriting professional, cat lover and friend. It was a great tool for storytelling and a good way to have the viewer connect with the subject.
When it comes to the film quality and direction, the intent within the expression was clear. Photography and short clips from Diane’s life opened a window into the creative process, the effort that was made and the personalities that shone through them. Capturing treasured moments in the creative process and the interactions between Diane and the recording artists she worked with were highlights, along with Diane’s direct accounts of the many conversations she had with them about her songs.
The one critique I do have, are some of the camera angles and methods used. I would have liked to see more creative shots that help capture any emotion or serious moments. Due some of the themes requiring more care and sensitivity, having that reflected in the camera direction would have helped, rather than distracted. The changing of shots were sometimes a bit too slow or were not straight enough with took away from the possible desired effect. While I agree that having someone walking around with the camera can feel more family orientated and homemade films have a sentimental nature, I found myself thinking about the camera instability each time it occurred, rather than focusing on the content.
Overall, this film was a combination of good story telling, highlighted testimonies and offered Diane genuine love and support that is well deserved. The behind the scenes accounts pulled it all together to create a piece that helped to show music history in the making.
What is the meaning of the word Wife? Australian playwright, Samuel Adamson’s script, explores gender roles and expectations of marriage through four-time chapters and three generations, taking us back to our past and into the future.
New Theatre’s production of Wife begins in 1959, with a fraught dialogue between a husband and wife behind the closed door of a house. We are eavesdroppers at the disintegration of a traditional marriage. We learn that this is a play within a play – the closing act of A Doll’s House, written by Henrik Ibsen and first published and set in 1879. Nora makes the decision to leave her husband and three children in search of freedom – and it is this ‘unthinkable act’ of a woman where the audience first gets to explore the role of a wife.
Daisy, portrayed by Imogen Trevillion, and her husband go backstage and meet with Suzannah, played by Julia Vosnakis. It is here that Robert, portrayed with scathing disdain by Will Manton, lets loose his opinion on what a dreadful woman Nora was for leaving her family. His demands on his wife and the way he speaks to her echoes the male chauvinistic attitudes that were the norm in marriages. Have expectations changed in 80 years from 1879? It seems not, in 1959.
When Robert leaves, we see that Daisy and Suzannah are secret lovers. Daisy, similarly to Ibsen’s character Nora, have followed society’s expectations at the expense of personal truths, and in Daisy’s case, her sexual identity. Daisy, who is pregnant, is at crossroads and her decision flows on to the next generations.
In the second chapter, set in 1988, two characters sit at a bar following the performance of A Doll’s House. Daisy’s son Ivar (Will Manton) is proudly, and loudly openly gay, and Eric, played by Henry Lopez Lopez, is more in the closet than Ivar. This is a scene where the intensity of the actors’ performances impressed me. One line particularly, which Ivar throws at Eric that he was so “deep in the closet you’re in Narnia!” was well appreciated by the audience. It was interesting to see that Ivar appeared to be quite the bully to his partner Eric, and I drew parallels between Ivar and his father Robert. Relationship inequities still exist, in both heterosexual and homosexual relationships. Society had changed by 1988, and people were free to be themselves in public. But even so, they were still being treated with open hostility and discriminated against by the pub landowner, played by Pete Walters.
In 2019, a couple – Clare (Imogen Trevillion) who is Eric’s daughter, and her fiancé Finn (Will Manton) meet after seeing a production of A Doll’s House, where Cas (Henry Lopez Lopez) plays the lead in a gender flip version of Nora. Cas’ partner, who he calls his wife, is Ivor (now played by Pete Walters). Henry’s Cas is flamboyantly camp, and makes the audience laugh with his toast, “Come in your eye!”. The dialogue and interaction between him and Clare is wickedly sharp when talking about evolving – “the world is still made out of prison cells”.
Clare, desperate to know more about her father, has been searching and desperately wants to know more about him, via the man her father truely loved and called a “Firebrand”. Here we delve into middle-aged Ivar, who we last saw at the bar in 1988; a man who was once passionate about gay rights who fought against homosexual discrimination, and is now complacent. Cas now appears to be the leading partner. We hear from Clare how Eric changed throughout the years since we had last seen him, no longer in the closet but fighting against discrimination.
The last act takes place in 2042, where Clare’s daughter Daisy (Imogen Trevillion) goes backstage to see Susannah (Julia Vosnakis), after a performance of Ibsen’s play. Keep a look out for the significance of the tambourine!
Aibhlinn and Burley Stoke’s costume design placed the characters well into multiple time periods. Dr David Marshall-Martin’s set design of The Dollhouse morphed well into the dressing room and pub scenes. The use of a flower trellis in the final scene was effective in it’s simplicity and I felt was a nod to Daisy.
Wife is a deliciously layered play with many characters through the timelines, and the actors portraying multiple characters did so with visual authenticity. They were quick with the dialogue, with Will, Imogen and Peter slipping into their multiple three characters with ease. The connections between family, if a tad confusing during the first act, become clear in the second act, with the links and characters continuing to tie the story together. The complexity and depth of the story made me want to keep going back to ponder this play after it had finished.
Wife was directed by Darrin Redgate (Boyslikeme Productions) who skilfully pulled together this play to create a thought provoking production with a deep exploration into equality in marriage, gender roles, and societal expectations. Darrin’s vision of Wife and the cast and creative team will have the audience questioning the role of a wife, queer rights and how change can happen over a lifetime.
Wife is playing at the New Theatre, 542 King St, Newtown.
All About the Levkoviches is about love, inclusion, and the need to be accepted especially by your family.
It tells the story of a well-meaning but tenacious boxing coach, Tamás, who gets along well with everyone but his own son, Iván, who left the family and moved to Israel to join an orthodox community.
All goes well until Tamás‘ beloved wife, Zsuzsa dies unexpectedly, and Tamás tells his son that he can come and mourn in his house as long as he brings his grandson, Ariel with him. This, however, gives them a chance to settle their old grievances after years of not talking, and also helps Ariel deal with his own grief and his obsession that grandma’s spirit is still in the house.
It is an adroit combination of comedy and drama, and one of the few movies that offers something for everyone. The story, written by Bálint Csaba and director Adam Breier himself, is captivating and gives us a glimpse into the life of the Jewish community in Hungary, and the characters are definitely memorable.
Director Ádám Breier expressed his gratitude for the film’s reception, saying, “We are deeply touched by the number of people watching our film. It’s particularly gratifying that many have told us they’ve seen it multiple times or recommended it to family members,” as quoted in a press release by Mozinet, the film’s distributor.
The film provides a window into the lives of present-day Jews in Hungary, as well as the dilemma for a baal tshuvah (newly Orthodox) man who wants to keep the ties with his secular family.
While Tamás is grieving, the local Orthodox community supports Iván with traditional shiva practices, sensitively explored. There are some tender moments of humour among deeply emotional family scenes.
Zoltán Bezerédi’s Tamás is a wonderfully drawn character and the original grumpy old man, but his heart is in the right place with his care for his estranged son and his grandson. His scenes with Ariel, his grandson are touching, especially when he is teaching him to box.
Tamás Szabó Kimmel’s Iván is torn between orthodoxy, his love for his wife, mother and trying to do the best for his son. The scene when he slaps his son across the face is confronting, but almost understandable.
Leo Gagel’s Ariel is the ‘meat in the sandwich,’ divided between the love for his father and his love for his grandmother. The connection he builds with his grandfather is instrumental in reuniting his father with his grandfather.
All About the Levkoviches teaches us a particularly important lesson, which is that everyone grieves in their own way, whether they are old, young, or deeply religious. Learning to respect this is not always easy, but it has the power to mend broken relationships.
