One of the first things you are likely to notice about Sarah Jane Wentzki is that she is quite short. I would rarely start an article about someone’s low centre of gravity (at least, not one that wasn’t pertaining to height generally), except that the ‘One Point Five’ in her band name pertains to just this: her height in metres.

Formalities out of the way, I meet Sarah Jane and partner (in life/band/crime), Richard Andrew, in Adelaide Airport just before their flight back to Melbourne and am quickly forced to reveal that I am merely a creative writing student dressed in journalists’ clothing. Not only have I forgotten my voice recorder, but I am also without any kind of writing implement. Fortunately, this rookie error has occurred with two of the least pretentious musicians I’ve met, as well as some of the nicest.

Princess One Point Five started as Wentzki’s solo project after realising she wasn’t quite avant-garde enough for the media/arts degree she was doing. Her second realisation that her skills as a producer were suffering from ‘option fatigue’ came shortly afterwards and thus it was sometime around 2004/5 that she came together with Richard Andrew (incidentally, it was also around the same time that they started going out, which Wentzki describes as both kind of sappy and hopelessly romantic), whose input fused a perfect sound.

Despite their many successes, such as being shortlisted for the Australian Music Price in 2007 and winning the Qantas Spirit of Youth Award for music in 2005, not to mention the fact that they have just released their fourth album, What Doesn’t Kill You (which, when you consider how many bands put out an EP and then split up, is quite the feat), both members of P1.5 are modest and even self-deprecating about how far they’ve come.

‘We probably should’ve made it by now,’ laughs Wentzki, as Andrew adds that they’ll probably be famous after they break up.

They emphasise the community that has been fostered by the music industry and the friends they have made seem a far, but perhaps also far better, cry from the wrecked hotel rooms and smashed guitars that are often glamourised as the supposed dark side of touring. But this pair doesn’t appear to have any desire for this kind of lifestyle, instead being happy to crash couches and merely hope for a sustainable income and career doing what they love, rather than to be able to hire ‘minders’ to constantly tell them how wonderful they are.

With their recent re-discovery of Andrew’s old vinyl collection, who knows what they’ll come up with next. We may be waiting a while for another album, but with far reaching influences and such an obvious love for writing songs, there’s no doubt that Wentzki and Andrew’s next creation will indeed be wonderful.

Read a review of What Doesn’t Kill You here.

I hadn’t heard of Princess One Point Five until I started researching the band for this piece. I know, I know, I’m an ignorant American. But honestly, as someone who makes a concerted effort to keep abreast on new, good music, I can’t believe I’d never really listened to P1.5 before. Light Facebook investigation revealed duo Sarah-Jane Wentzki and Richard Andrew’s already strong fanbase in their native Australia. Further Grooveshark research told me that the band had a song featured on Gossip Girl’s second season soundtrack, so at least someone in America gets it. After listening to their most recent album, What Doesn’t Kill You, I must tell you that it is worth it to pay attention to this band. START NOW. Kidding; kind of.

I was immediately drawn in after the beginning of the album had passed. Very early on, P.15’s sound and style are established: Wentzki’s ethereal vocals, Andrew’s ambient soundscape, smart lyrics, frequent changes in tempo and arrangement, guest instrumental appearances, relatable themes and that “epic” quality that makes you feel like you’re actually learning something while listening to the album. The other half of the saying after which the album is titled is “makes you stronger”. It seems like throughout What Doesn’t Kill You, Princess One Point Five is articulating why that aphorism is so key.

The album opens with “Start,” an ambient intro that sets the tone of the album as thoughtful, if not melancholy. The next track, “I’m Not Ready,” reveals a central thesis of What Doesn’t Kill You: “I’m not ready for love” croons lead singer Sarah-Jane Wentzki against backdrop of what can be described as nothing but spatial sound. Why isn’t she ready? “Suit Yourself” continues in the same vein, making the listener wonder what the band has been through while further developing its sound as somewhere in between Broken Social Scene’s Feel Good Lost and low-fi Blonde Redhead. Another central question comes in “Today”: “What the hell is with today today?” asks Wentzki. I never seem to know that answer.

The middle section of the album develops nicely; highlights include self-deprecation in “Quote Me”: where P1.5 promises “revenge with cheesy poetry”, a new manifestation of the group’s sound through harmonized background group vocal and more complicated arrangement on “What Do You Know”, and an increasingly emotional and almost haunting “Fly My Pretties” that allows Wentzki to really showcase the power and range of her voice and instrumental talent and breakdown.

An “Interlude” after “Fly My Pretties” establishes a kind of third shift in the What Doesn’t Kill You’s progression. On “I Dare You”, thwarted love – “Shut up and kiss me,” commands Wentzki with impressive vocals yet again – takes center stage. The next track, “All That You’d Thought”, slows down and ends suddenly after asking the question “Is this all you’d hoped it’d be?” Not to bust out my inner literary nerd here, but this is the second instance in the album where there is a meta-quality (first was acknowledging the “cheesy poetry” in “Quote Me”). Whether or not P1.5 is asking its fans if this album is all they thought it’d be or if it’s just a lyric in a song, the music keeps you wanting more.  The last track, “All You Are”, has a decidedly more complex beat and arrangement similar to that of “What Do You Know” and closes out with the same sound as “Start”, making the album really come full circle.

By the time What Doesn’t Kill You is over, you don’t know exactly what makes Princess One Point Five stronger, but you do know one thing: the band has provided an excellent, instrumentally sound, interesting and passionate place for you to contemplate just that.

According to Hollywood legend, when auditioning for the role of Jim Morrison in what would become the 1991 film The Doors, Val Kilmer presented director Oliver Stone with a tape of several Doors tracks. He told Stone that half of the tracks were the originals and half were Kilmer singing over the instrumental master track, asking Stone if he could tell which were which. Stone was startled at the similarity, but made his best guess. Kilmer then revealed that, in truth, he was the singer in all of them.

Not a bad story, right? Not sure if it’s true. At any rate, it’s a bit of a shame seeing as that movie turned out to be a giant turd.

The new documentary, When You’re Strange, from director Tom DiCillo is, conversely, not. The always-solemn Ray Manzarek, driving force and former keyboardist of the Doors, called it “the anti-Oliver Stone movie”, which will come as high praise to the many fans who felt Stone’s movie presented a sexed-up, titillating and ultimately inaccurate portrayal of the rise of The Doors and it’s leading man. When You’re Strange is a far more levelheaded account, but never shies away from the details. After all, how often do we hear the words “rock and roll” with the words “sex” and “drugs” preceding it?

The film’s great strength is in its simplicity. There are no interviews, eye-witness accounts or cobbled-together dramatisations to skew the events, but rather only artefacts – photos, newspaper articles and brilliantly compiled stock footage – with Johnny Depp’s smooth narration guiding us through the mayhem like a tour-guide on a bus calmly pointing out all the smashed-up cars on the side of the road.

DiCillo adds only one bit of artistic indulgence, a small but haunting dramatised sequence that is interspersed freely throughout the documentary, almost as a film within a film. It features an actor in the guise of Jim Morrison awaking by the side of a typical American highway and slowly hitch-hiking his way back to LA, as all the while news reports play over the radio announcing Morrison’s death. Whether this is supposed to represent an afterlife or just some sort of epitaph is never made clear. Whatever the intention, it adds a nice and subtle touch, poetic and much like a Doors song; surreal, moody, and richly American.

The film’s objective, undoubtedly, it to capture the complex essence of Jim Morrison. This is no easy task. Poetic, highly intelligent, unstable, hopped up on goof balls, unsure, uncompromising. However spot on Kilmer’s singing was almost 20 years earlier (and credit where credit’s due, it really was pretty damn spot on), it was still a portrayal. The character had to be chopped up and boiled down and fed through the psyche of someone else and like many celebrity biopics, tried to summarise an extraordinary life into a familiar ‘isn’t it a crazy old world’ story. In contrast, When You’re Strange just opens a window, and nothing can convey Morrison’s character better than his own distant expression, gazing across the post-mortem decades through archived celluloid.

(Image credits: 1.)

Image courtesy of slamxhype.com

It might seem extreme to think of clothing as a relationship barometer. But there are some instances when a book’s cover is the only way to judge. Far from being a benign and superficial part of life, fashion can be a far truer expression of your happiness than anything you’d whisper to your girlfriends over a decaf soy latte.

Clothing can be a joyful expression of individuality. It can also say ‘I am afraid to be myself’ or ‘I don’t want to disappoint you.’ To neglect one’s personal clothing preferences in deference to another is a warning signal that should be ignored at your peril.

For example, if you have a favourite middrif marle-grey jumper with rollerskate fluro motif on the front that has been languishing in your cupboard ever since you’ve been dating that boy who ‘hates that colour on you’, it might be time to ask why. It’s a cool jumper. It is perfect for most occasions. You like it, but he doesn’t. Is that reason enough to stop wearing marle grey forever? MARLE GREY IS A REALLY COOL COLOUR!

It can be an fuzzy line between dressing to please your partner and choosing your wardrobe on their preferences alone, but if you are no longer happy in your clothes, it could be a sign that something underneath them is getting itchy. Not your psoriasis, but your sense of self.

If your partner starts picking on your favourite jumper, it might be your favourite music next or your favourite friend. I’m not suggesting we choose dates based on who scales the sycophantic slope the quickest; but frankly, criticism is unsexy. Why would you want to spend time with a person who metaphorically spits on your shoes/clothes/hair/personality at every opportunity?

So what about when the shoe is on the other foot? When it’s all you can do to not burn an offensive item belonging to your partner? You give it evil stares, hoping to burn it from their back; but there it remains. Dorky, ugly, not-of-this-decade.

Whether your partner favours a scuba suit and flippers or a tuxedo made of himalayan goat hair, it’s important that you are proud to hold their hand.

Feeling at odds with the fashion choices of your special friend can be an obstacle which seems insurmountable even with scented candles or couples therapy. It may be that you’re a shallow bitch but often the fact that your mate’s wardrobe is making you unhappy can be a manifestation of a deeper disconnect.

For example, my friend was dating a man who wore a suit. At dinner he wore a suit and that was entirely OK; but then Mr Penguin showed up at a saturday afternoon movie. It made me… I mean, my ‘friend’ wonder if this guy could relax and get dirty. In the end, it wasn’t this man’s affinity for formalwear that doomed the pairing but the fact that he wasn’t able to enjoy picking melted Malteser bits off his pants.

Similarly, spending an hour shining yourself up for a hot date can be a bit of a moot exercise when Prince Charming turns up with crumply shirt and no hair gel. ‘That’s not ‘bohemian’, it’s lazy,’ you say. ‘It’s high time I put my glass slippers back in the cupboard so they wont get slurried by this unworthy suitor’.

In this case the seemingly mismatched effort can speak volumes. But before you slam the door in his face and resign your pretty self to watching crap TV and attaching a bag of Doritos to your face, it’s worth zooming out and asking why you insisted on looking like princess while he’s happy wearing yesterday’s shirt.

Oftentimes, Prince Charming will be lacking the fundamental telepathy skills to know exactly what you planned for the evening. All you said in your text message was ‘dinner’, but suddenly you have turned into a man-eater and he is the main course.

I encourage you to pause before you decide a) he just isn’t that into you, b) he is a disgusting lazy pig or c) he is obviously cheating on you with that large breasted girl he said ‘hi’ to three months ago at the supermarket. When you have stopped breathing fire consider whether that yucky feeling is really about clothing.

It’s oh-too-easy to project yesterday’s disappointments onto today’s ill-chosen outfit, but it is not worth ruining an evening over. And in the absence of advanced mind-reading skills, all you have to decide is whether it will be a fun date. Because as much as us girls hate to be judged on our clothes, so do our dates. It’s the same ugly game – incidentally nowhere near as fun as twister.

I’m not suggesting that a happy relationship requires complete fashion consensus. Teasing each other’s quirky decisions is part of the fun. But if you are with someone, you need to decide that you can love them from the inside and outside, and accept nothing less in return. It sounds black and white, but it’s more about appreciating shades of marle grey.

The Kids Are All Right is a warm-hearted, lightly handled film.  What could have easily become yet another ultimately depressing family drama or heavy-handed morality tale is instead a pleasant surprise: a pleasing blend of drama, comedy, and a cast of fine actors.

Nic (Annette Bening) and Jules (Julianne Moore) are a married lesbian couple, with two children conceived by artificial insemination.  They deal with the types of issues that every family deals with: Nic is too committed to her job, Jules doesn’t have a job, their daughter is leaving for college, and they worry that their son might be gay.   But when Joni (Mia Wasikowska) and Laser (Josh Hutcherson) decide that they would like to meet their birth father, life gets a lot more complicated.  Paul (Mark Ruffalo) is an eternally adolescent, laidback, lothario-type – and his presence shakes up the entire family.

This film features some damn fine performances, each actor adeptly handling the transitions between drama and comedy.  Bening is able to make her uptight, matriarch Nic more sympathetic, while the audience never loses affection for Moore’s flawed Jules.  Ruffalo’s Paul provides comic relief, while simultaneously becoming more than comic relief.  He is not merely a stoner with a predilection towards lesbians; he is a stoner with a predilection towards lesbians, who also wants to have a family of his own someday.  Josh Hutcherson is convincing in his portrayal of teenage awkwardness, which might have something to do with the fact that he is probably an awkward teen.  Wasikowska also delivers a well-crafted, subtle performance, proving that the stiltedness of Burton’s Alice in Wonderland was definitely not her fault.  Canberra can proudly reclaim this fey up-and-comer as their own.

For all that this subject matter sounds like it could be confronting, The Kids Are All Right tries to not comment on the potential controversies of the situation.  Some critics have already condemned the film for not more fully exploring the politics of same-sex marriages, or gay couples adopting children.  But by deliberately not engaging with these issues The Kids Are All Right makes the strongest political comment of all: it’s not a problem.  Rather than emphasizing how non-nuclear this particular family unit is, the film emphasizes how all family units are imperfect.  People are flawed, and family members fight, and sometimes people hurt one another; but the film also depicts the love, compassion and compliance it takes to make a family work.  In The Kids Are All Right, this is a family just like any other.

This film is more than just “all right.”  It’s wonderfully, horribly human.

The Special Relationship examines the connection between the former US President Bill Clinton and British Prime Minister Tony Blair, who wanted to implement their ‘centre-left’ agenda and who shared similar political views, until their friendship ended due to events such as the Monica Lewinsky affair and the war in Kosovo. Indeed, the film opens with a quote from Oscar Wilde stating, “a true friend stabs you in the front.”

Michael Sheen has here reprised his role as Tony Blair for the third time: he was previously seen in The Deal and in the award-winning film The Queen.  Helen McCrory again plays Cherie, the prime minister’s wife. Dennis Quaid as Clinton is somewhat convincing – he has managed to convey Clinton’s tone of voice very well, and his appearance is not too far off. Clinton is portrayed as an eccentric figure, and he is constantly seen eating and cracking jokes, and at one point he notes how “attractive” Blair is, which adds humour to the film. As many critics have noted, Hope Davis portrays Hillary Clinton wonderfully. While she is seen wearing a pair of fake buckteeth, she appears to be a confident and together first lady, who as we know, was a significant influence in Clinton’s presidency.

The title of the film was coined by Winston Churchill in 1946 and refers to the US/UK’s close relationship – beginning with Churchill and Theodore Roosevelt, continuing with Ronald Regan and Margaret Thatcher, and as captured in this film, progressing to Clinton and Blair (a relationship which seems to have seamlessly converted to Blair and Bush in the final moments). The film suggests that their special relationship ended as the result of their conflicting views of action in regards to the crisis in Kosovo (and Yugoslavian President Slobodan Milosevic’s genocidal regime) in 1998.

The film concludes with Clinton warning Blair about the new administration as George W Bush is inaugurated as President. Archival footage then depicts Blair and Bush at their first press conference at Camp David, and Blair’s readiness to follow Bush – into two wars in the future, which contributed to his own political demise.

With a well-suited cast, effective set designs, and shots of both the White House in Washington DC and Parliament in London The Special Relationship is an interesting depiction of a short-lived political friendship.

The Disappearance of Alice Creed is a British crime thriller written and directed by J Blakeson. The film sees Alice Creed (Gemma Arterton, Clash of the Titans), the estranged daughter of a millionaire being kidnapped and held for ransom by two ex-cons – the cold and authoritative Vic (Eddie Marsan, Me and Orson Welles), and the younger, seemingly more compassionate Danny (Martin Compston). Alice, however, demonstrates that she is not willing to give up without a fight and when she suddenly manages to outwit one of the kidnappers, a chain reaction of narrative twists soon unfold.

While the film is somewhat complex and compelling, it utilises a fairly unoriginal plot structure, resembling a stage play. Blakeson commented that he had set out some personal rules for the production of the film, noting “80% of it would take place in one location and that it would have no more than three characters.  Those rules were a real inspiration, because they forced me to think about how to get the most out of this setup, and ultimately that meant really developing the characters.” (Icon films production notes, 2010: 1)

This is an intense, dark film about power, greed and survival, with a particularly memorable opening – there is no dialogue heard for the first twenty minutes as the audience watches Vic and Danny meticulously set up their apartment in anticipation of their plan to kidnap Alice Creed.

1.       Let shit go. No matter whether you break up on good or bad terms, there is almost always some residue from a relationship that is never going to be fully resolved. Let it go. It’s over.

2.       Be on the same page. In all technicality, if one of you sees the friendship as a deviated path back into a relationship, then it’s not a friendship. But for the sake of including another point on this list, then I’ll say that it’s important to make any such intentions clear from the outset. It can be quite hurtful knowing that someone who was only ever friends with you in the first place had ulterior motives, and allowing an ex back into your life under what turn out to be false pretences adds another layer of deceit. Having this conversation early on will also likely diffuse any potentiality for sexual tension.

3.       Don’t have sex. Would you have sex with your best friend? If not, then don’t do it with your ex. If you would, then you need new friends. Friendship is defined by the absence of sex and all its derivatives and just because you used to touch each other doesn’t grant you an exemption.

4.       Be comfortable in any given social situation. In other words, if seeing your ex kissing someone else is going to send you ragin’, you probably can’t be friends. They are going to kiss people and they are going to date people, and these people might even be your friends. If you can only be friends with an ex for as long as you are both single, then you need more time.

5.       Make sure the timing is right. New partners may feel threatened by the sudden re-appearance of an ex, and if you’re both single, it might be all too tempting to get back together. Neither of these situations mean death to a blossoming friendship, but they do require some negotiation.

6.       Don’t take lingering trips down memory lane. This doesn’t mean that you can’t bring up things that happened while you were together, but there is a distinct difference between ‘remember that camping trip?’ and ‘remember how I loved you alllllll night long in the tent on that camping trip?’

7. And above all, exercise a bit of a common sense. This list isn’t exactly communicating revolutionary ideas and yet, far too many friendships with ex-partners fail because people doesn’t use their head. If you still love them, it won’t work. If you’ve only just broken up, it won’t work. If you secretly relish drunken nights out together because you can justify away any lapses in the plutonicness of your relationship, it won’t work.

Some ex-partners won’t ever be friends, but the intimacy that is fostered in relationships can often translate into a really wonderful friendship.

Sometimes it’s not love that’s all you need, but time.

(Image credits: 1.)

I don’t believe I’ve ever actually gone into what fat acceptance entails. For me, I consider fat acceptance to be like any type of acceptance – accept me for who I am. Not in spite of. I deserve to be treated with respect and dignity, as every human being deserves to be treated.

Many other people have discussed fat acceptance in more eloquent terms than me. Here are, what I think, are the three best written discussions about fat acceptance.

Elizabeth over at Spilt Milk describes it as:

“…Rather, we wish to strip away any notion that there is a particular body type that is inherently superior. What Fat Acceptance does is for all people, not just fatties. Fat Acceptance makes all bodies acceptable, honours diversity, and calls for an end to body-shaming.” (Emphasis hers).

Natalie at Definatalie describes it as:

“To begin with, one must understand that human beings have different body shapes, racial backgrounds, medical conditions, and socio-economic circumstances (amongst other things) and fat is not just a result of eating too much or exercising too little.” (Emphasis hers).

And, the original fat acceptance 101 post I read, when I first started learning about the fat acceptance movement from Kate Harding at Shapely Prose:

“9. In any case, shaming teh fatties for being “unhealthy” doesn’t fucking help. If shame made people thin, there wouldn’t be a fat person in this country, trust me. I wish I could remember who said this, ’cause it’s one of my favourite quotes of all time: “You cannot hate people for their own good.” (Emphasis hers).

For the record, I completely agree with these women. I define it in much simpler terms as I am still learning how to express myself and the fact that I identify as fat, and why that isn’t a “bad” word. Whenever people challenge me in person about these beliefs, I tend to splutter or flounder over my words and I feel it makes me look like I don’t know what I’m talking about. On a post like this, I can come up with a metric tonne of links and evidence to back up what I’m saying, but in person, it’s much harder to think of the research and discuss it rationally. It is so emotionally linked for me (as I’m sure it is for others) that I find it very hard to discuss without getting teary or rage-y. And that’s ok. There’s nothing wrong with getting emotional about a topic that is close to your heart. There is nothing wrong with getting frustrated that people aren’t listening to you. I am not a “whine-y, overly emotional female” because I am passionate about a topic.

Hopefully, the next time the issue comes up; I can remember these links and theses posts and am able to utterly decimate a person’s preconceived notions and arguments in a well-informed, but passionate response.

(Image Credits : 1.)

My latest artistic inamorata is a Chicago-based artist named Brett Manning, who likes to make it clear that she is in fact a girl. Her website, Brettisagirl.com, is distinctly feminine, showcasing her gorgeous portfolio on a backdrop of nostalgic, wallpaper-pink- so there is no confusion there. Brett is a girl.

Brett does paintings and photography, but it’s her ink drawings that I’m most enchanted by.

Her images are mostly of girls, and she captures something strikingly soft and beautiful about each one, even as they merge into the realm of the surreal and, at times, grotesque. While her figures grow distorted and strange, she never loses her very feminine aesthetic, managing to imbue every image with such charm and stylishness that they somehow wouldn’t be entirely out of place in a fashion magazine.

She describes her work as being largely about the connection of all living things, and the idea of man-made versus nature. She is enamoured by the charm of the dream-like. There is a real delicacy to her images, and her very subtle use of colour and sharing gives each drawing a distinct sense of being not-quite of this world, though intensely familiar and nostalgic at the same time.

It’s interesting the way she talks about the process of drawing- and it’s something that any of us with any artistic inclinations can perhaps relate to. Drawing, for Brett, is a spiritual and meditative process. ‘When I am creating,’ she says, ‘I feel calm and at one with my surroundings, specifically with the art work, it becomes part of me, almost like a view into my brain at any specific moment, and strangely autobiographical.’

In this sense, her work is all about speaking the truth. ‘Nowhere in any of my pieces will one ever find a shard of falsehood,’ she says. In this poignant, storybook world, dreams become reality, and reality becomes a dream. And girls who stand upside down on tree branches, hide behind masks and sprout huge goblin ears are just the same as us.

Brett wants to challenge us. She wants us to look for parts of ourselves that we didn’t know existed. She wants us to find pieces of ourselves in these strange and otherworldly girls. And honestly, I would love to be wrapped up in an enormous patchwork knit on a windy day, hair blowing around me like ribbons. I’d love to be one of those surly small children curled up on the couch with their headphones on. I’d even love to have clown make-up on my face and have spaceships flying at me.

‘It’s pretty simple,’ she says. ‘But very complex…. And completely absurd.’ That it is, Brett. That it is.