Sincere Apologies

Sincere Apologies

Sincere Apologies Rating

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Sorry, Apologies, My Bad… There are myriad ways to express regret when one has stuffed up. These are some of the expressions I pondered as an audience member of Bondi Festival’s show Sincere Apologies. Billed as an interactive experience, I will admit I felt a small degree of trepidation in attending; however, curiosity got the better of me and I found myself perched on a fold out chair on a very chilly July evening in the Seagull Room at Bondi Pavilion. The circular arrangement of chairs around strategically placed microphones created an Alcoholics Anonymous-esque atmosphere, as if we were all there to lay bare our deepest regrets.

After a delayed start, the essence of the show started to make sense. Like children at a birthday party, a brown envelope was passed around from chair to chair. When the music stopped, an audience member read aloud instructions to everyone present. Fifty envelopes were to be distributed among the audience. Unfortunately on the night I attended, the audience was quite small. This meant we doubled (or tripled) up on envelopes. This is a show that definitely works more effectively with a full audience.

Based on an original concept by Roslyn Oades and David Williams, the show’s writers Dan Koop, Jamie Lewis and David Williams, have created what proves to be an incredibly reflective and enriching experience. Within each envelope was an apology ranging from the very famous (does anyone remember Kanye West’s social media apology to Taylor Swift after his MTV awards rant?) through to the very personal (an excerpt from an email to Dan Koop’s mother apologising for his decision not to have children). Within the three envelopes I was assigned was an official apology from Eddie McGuire to Adam Goodes in 2013 when he compared the AFL player to ‘King Kong’; another featured part of the apology of a Japanese son apologising to Chinese people for his father’s war crimes. There were even stage directions to bow (deeply) after I recited the apology.

 

 

Themes of racism, environmental degradation and social justice run strongly throughout the apologies curated by Koop, Lewis and Williams for Sincere Apologies. At a time when deadly flash floods and heat waves seem to be fast becoming the norm, re-hearing apologies such as the one offered by the Exxon Valdez captain after the infamous 1989 oil spill was a reminder of how little we seem to have learnt from the past and perhaps, how little apologies mean when they are not made sincerely.

The culmination of the hour-long show proved to be quite moving; indeed, I would say even, disturbing. We are invited, through imaginary apologies, to speculate on the state of the world in fifty or even one hundred years time; a state that is pretty dystopian if we continue to live as negligently as we do now. I truly felt a sense of regret as I returned into the cold night, walking past the now dark Bondi Beach, that those imagined future scenarios may very well come true.

Sincere Apologies is a timely reminder that apologies matter and we must make them sincerely and genuinely, whether to those we love or to whole generations of people whose lives will never be the same. It is only when we are truly sorry that we can change the future.

To book tickets to Sincere Apologies, please visit https://www.bondifestival.com.au/event/sincere-apologies/.

Photographer: Mark Gambino

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Pursuing Pleasure

Pursuing Pleasure

Pursuing Pleasure Rating

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“Pleasure” is a concept humanity has pursued, defined, and debated for millennia—from Early Greek philosophers musings to Freud’s theories, from ancient Chinese philosophy to Egyptian mysticism.

In her deeply personal and compelling one-woman show, Pursuing Pleasure, opera singer Piera Dennerstein steps into this lineage of inquiry, offering her own story as both case study and celebration. Through an eclectic mix of musical selections—from Puccini to Cardi B—Dennerstein examines the rigid structures of her profession, the silencing of her voice, and the hard-won rediscovery of her personal joy.

The moment the audience enters the small, intimate theatre, they’re immersed in a world that feels equal parts boudoir and dreamscape. Soft pink lighting bathes the space; feathered chairs and velvet accents suggest sensuality and softness. A lone piano waits like a co-conspirator in the corner. The atmosphere is one of warmth and openness, setting the tone for the confessional yet theatrical journey ahead.

Dennerstein makes her entrance like a vision: glamorous, confident, and possessed of a voice that commands immediate attention. She opens with an aria from Carmen, a dramatic choice that immediately showcases her operatic prowess and establishes her as a powerful stage presence. Her voice—a heavy soprano—fills the room with depth and resonance, but it’s her storytelling that truly pulls us in.

 

 

As she begins to speak, Dennerstein draws back the velvet curtain on the world of opera, revealing a system that to outsiders can feel like an elegant but arcane secret society. With sharp wit and heartbreaking clarity, she explains how singers are typecast according to vocal “fach”—a system of classification that determines what roles a singer can audition for. It’s a rigid framework that values tradition above individuality, and Dennerstein invites us to see how such a system is also a gatekeeper of artistic expression. In this world, a single note sung incorrectly can mean losing a role; personal taste, emotional connection, or daring interpretation are often secondary to the mechanics of tone and volume.

Dennerstein’s own experience as a dramatic soprano—destined to sing the tragic, the regal, the doomed—becomes a metaphor for confinement. When she delivers a searing excerpt from Wagner, it’s clear she inhabits these roles with mastery. But when she speaks of her desire to sing something joyful, light, or flirtatious—and how the opera world deems these pleasures off-limits for her voice—we see the emotional cost of that confinement.

In the show’s second half, she shifts from analysis to revelation, sharing stories of rejection, emotional abuse, and the slow, courageous return to herself. Through pop music, humor, and fierce vulnerability, Dennerstein stages a rebellion against the rules she was trained to follow.

Pleasure is more than a performance—it’s a quiet revolution. In just an hour, we witness an artist stepping out of the roles the world assigned her and into the one she’s written for herself. By the end, Piera Dennerstein doesn’t just sing—she reclaims her voice. And that, in every sense, is a pleasure.

To book tickets to Pursuing Pleasure, please visit https://www.oldfitztheatre.com.au/pursuing-pleasure.

Photographer: Olivia Charalambous

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Second Victims (Det Andet Offer)

Second Victims - Scandinavian Film Festival

Second Victims – Scandinavian Film Festival Rating

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Scandinavia has a long and rich history of quality filmmaking, with innovative Directors such as Lars von Trier, Susanne Bier, Thomas Vinterberg, and Ingmar Bergman that have challenged and influenced world cinema. Nordic films such as Lamb, The Seventh Seal, Let the Right One In, Festin, and The Hunt, have exposed us to a culture and landscape that is rich with powerful stories.

In this tradition, the 2025 Scandinavian Film Festival gives us Second Victims (Det andet offer), a harrowing, thought-provoking film from Denmark written and directed by Zinnini Elkington. Alex (Özlem Saglanmak) is experienced neurologist starting another routine day in an understaffed hospital. In the changeroom she gives hollow encouragement to Emilie (Mathilde Arcel F.), a nervous new intern facing her first day as a doctor without supervision. As the day starts, Elkington masterfully employs the often-overused technique of a long, single shot as we follow Alex through a routine morning. She volunteers to take over extra duties due to staff shortages, then moves confidently through the hospital deftly attending to a variety of patients, making quick observations and decisions before moving on to the next. One of these fateful decisions, seemingly innocuous at the time, triggers a sequence of high-stake events that will challenge Alex in ways that she never expected.

 

 

Medical staff face the burden of life and death decisions every day, but the emotional toll is rarely understood or explored, especially when doubt creeps in about a possible mistake or missed diagnosis. Second victims explores the emotional devastation a critical decision that’s made under pressure can have on an experienced doctor. The allocation of blame, the legal repercussions, the doubting and guilt and fear. Just like Alex, I had trouble recounting exactly what happened in that short but critical moment when she assessed an eighteen-year-old man with a simple headache, sharing her confusion about who was really to blame for not realising the seriousness of his condition. Did the nervous, unsure young doctor Emilie give Alex, the confident veteran, the right information? She says she did. But did she really?

Alex not only has to wrestle with the possibility she made a fateful mistake; she also has to face the emotional impact this has on the patient’s terrified (divorced) parents. These characters help to humanise the stakes. ‘What happens if he dies,’ an emotional mother (Trine Dyrholm) asks the hospital priest (Kristian Halken) as she contemplates the fate of her son, who has fallen into a coma with a brain haemorrhage, ‘he’s all I’ve got.’ ‘You love him,’ the priest replies, ‘and don’t stop loving him. Love is more powerful than death.’

The moral ambiguity and rising tensions were absolutely gripping, the story moving along at an exhausting pace, building an intense emotional pressure like an overcharged battery about to explode. Second Victims is a compelling insight into the stress and pressure of staff making life or death decisions and the people who depend on them. As an experienced Surgeon explains to Alex when she loses all confidence and seeks his advice, it’s a fight they don’t always win: ‘Every Doctor has a graveyard.’

The Hurtigruten Scandinavian Film Festival is packed with a superb lineup of films, screening in multiple locations across the country until the 14th of August. Check out their website at https://scandinavianfilmfestival.com/ for sessions and dates in your city.

To book tickets to Second Victims – Scandinavian Film Festival, please visit https://scandinavianfilmfestival.com/films/sca25-second-victims.

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The Last Paradise On Earth

The Last Paradise On Earth (Scandinavian Film Festival)

The Last Paradise On Earth (Scandinavian Film Festival) Rating

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A lot of people say the grass is greener on the other side. But what if, despite everyone else turning their back to it and telling you to do the same, you were perfectly happy with the hue of your green.

The Scandinavian Film Festival is ready to set sail across Australia. And with it The Last Paradise On Earth, Directed by Sakaris Stórá, glides in to dock.

This touching Danish drama film centres on Kári (Sámal H. Hansen), a kind and bashful young man, who calls the Faroe Islands home. On one of those remote islands he spends his quiet days working at the local fish factory and trying to connect with his sister, Silja (Bjørg B. Egholm), both of whom have been struggling since their mother passed away.

With the increasing pressure of the factory potentially closing and their father’s sudden leave for work on the sea, Kári must do what he can to keep his and Silja’s life afloat, all while discovering his own path forward.

The story is a hunt for belonging and finding a sense of self in hard times. Like many people these days, the doubt of if you are in the right place and doing what you should be doing with your life feels very relatable.

 

 

It seems that everyone in the village is either leaving the islands for a better, more exciting lifestyle, or incredulous that Kári isn’t. The constant force upon him becomes overbearing at times, and puts you right into his shoes of getting fed up with the repetitive questions, yet also second guessing his purpose in life.

The consistent pace of the film allows you to become familiar with the island’s day to day routine, as if you’re living the days along with them. But never feels monotonous as you see Kári becoming himself in the calming nature surrounding him, appearing comfortable only when out in the fresh elements and birdsong.

In the breathtaking setting of the Faroe Islands, it’s hard to think anything could stand out from the gorgeous mist ridden mountains and colourful Scandinavian houses – yet the emotions that echo through the land are a big takeaway from the film.

Both Hansen and Egholm bring a melancholic beauty to their characters, where you can be pulled into their emotions just from a glimpse into their eyes. Through their engaging portrayals you could easily be fooled into believing it’s their real lives and relationships you’re seeing on screen.

As you continue to watch Kári and Silja piece together their identity and relationship with each other, even in spite of the remote location, the film charms you into feeling right at home with your own emotions. Because of that, the fresh island air of melancholy and delightful visuals make The Last Paradise On Earth a delicious Danish treat.

To book tickets to The Last Paradise On Earth (Scandinavian Film Festival) , please visit https://scandinavianfilmfestival.com/films/sca25-the-last-paradise-on-earth.

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