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Thursday 29 November 2012
Featured Film

celluloid relapse: predator (1987), the soap opera

Amy Miniter
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It is inevitably very awkward for an expensive, Hollywood film to resemble a soap opera. As much as inappropriately long close ups, predictable plot lines and hideous acting all have their place in this bizarre world of ours, suffice it to say that they should be found only on daytime television and on weeknights between…
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Thursday 15 November 2012
Featured Film

celluloid relapse: picnic at hanging rock (1975)

Amy Miniter
One comment

After three not particularly impressive months of winter, the most glorious time in the Australian seasonal calendar is again making itself known. The ominous mornings of impending, thermostatic doom have replaced winter’s feeble attempts at the cold and the miserable. The sun, not merely content with its steadily increasing presence, has increased in severity –…
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Thursday 20 September 2012
Featured Film

celluloid relapse: mr franco, the man of many faces

Amy Miniter
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James Franco is a man of many faces. As Harry Osborn (Spiderman, 2002), his troubled visage was one of wealth, confusion and later, festering anger. His portrayal of Aron Ralston in 127 Hours (2010) betrayed a succession of emotions and thoughts ranging from hedonist, ‘ouch! It appears my arm is trapped!’, to acceptance. In Milk…
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Thursday 6 September 2012
Film

celluloid relapse: whodunit? ozon’s ‘8 women’ (2002) is not so secretly cluedo

Amy Miniter
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Today’s bourgeoisie indeed has much to lament. The smoothie that contemporary culture has become, in which others’ ideas are combined, recombined or merely embellished, prevents and denies any real opportunity for true originality. It is unfortunate, but culture predates our pitiful existences by many millennia. Whether one is optimistic or otherwise, this blender is very,…
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Thursday 23 August 2012
Featured Film

celluloid relapse: noé’s irréversible

Amy Miniter
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Murder, as a cinematic experience, is something to which the film watching collective no longer particularly objects to. Snuff films aside, today on-screen murder orchestrated to varying degrees of gore and sadism is tolerated, even enjoyed. It excites, thrills and grants access to an activity that the majority of society will hopefully never engage with,…
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Thursday 9 August 2012
Culture Featured

celluloid relapse: bangarang! (or how I learned to stop worrying and love robin williams)

Amy Miniter
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Bangarang n Caribbean (chiefly Jamaican) 1. Rubbish; miscellaneous items. Now rare 2. Commotion or uproar; a disturbance; a loud argument                                                                     – Oxford English Dictionary, 2012 Bangarang is indeed a marvellous word. Owing much to an onomatopoeic appearance, to the unfamiliar ear it seems capable of almost infinite expression and unbounded use.  One can use…
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Thursday 26 July 2012
Featured

celluloid relapse : run, chicken, run

Amy Miniter
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Humans are usually credited for their work in films, as are dogs, cats and even the odd celebrity chimpanzee. Chickens, on the other hand, are afforded no such luxury. The uncountable scores of poultry that have appeared uncompensated must certainly reach a staggering figure. Unfortunately, the most attention generally afforded to them in film relates…
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Thursday 12 July 2012
Culture

celluloid relapse : some like it hot

Amy Miniter
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Somewhat unsurprisingly, Marilyn Monroe in a dress is a sight to behold – but Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis look better. These two gents, when dressed in the garb normally reserved for women, manage to completely outfox Hollywood’s supposed epitome of sex appeal. Such a comparison comes to us, of course, from the shenanigans that…
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Thursday 31 May 2012
Film

celluloid relapse: ace ventura, pet detective – a how-to avoidance guide

Amy Miniter
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Being a detective is supposedly synonymous with danger, glamour, devilishly handsome individuals and immeasurable intrigue. It may be a dangerous line to walk, but there is more than sufficient compensation available to those who choose to walk it. Taking this into consideration, why it is that anyone would consider the profession of a pet detective…
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Tuesday 22 May 2012
Film

celluloid relapse: la gloire of pagnol’s fanny trilogy (or lack thereof)

Amy Miniter
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Winter brings with it many opportunities for sequestering oneself in basements, drinking red wine and absorbing vast quantities of French cinema. Chance such as this also presents itself in tandem with the prospect of justifying introverted and potentially anti-social behavior. Indeed, who needs friends with the likes of Louis Malle, François Truffaut and Juliette Binoche…
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Tuesday 8 May 2012
Film

celluloid relapse: eyebrows and unlikely heroines in gone with the wind (1939)

Amy Miniter
2 comments

Ours is a strange world indeed when Shane Warne, Taylor Momsen and Robert Falcon Scott can all have something in common. All are, in one way or another, role models. These figures are however nothing more than a degustation menu of expected inspiring figures. Selected from just three zones of achievement valuable to society –…
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Tuesday 3 April 2012
Film

celluloid relapse: cautionary tales for the 21st century human in alien (1979)

Amy Miniter
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Humanity as a collective has lauded a whole range of inventions throughout its existence, some for no reason at all. The wheel admittedly has proved itself to be utterly indispensible, as has modern medicine, cutlery and welding. The other side of the figurative coin, represented by such blatant banalities as apple corers, sock puppets and…
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Thursday 22 March 2012
Film

celluloid relapse: strictly ballroom, wither australian cinema?

Amy Miniter
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Imagine, just for a moment, that you are no longer you. You are an alien dumped unceremoniously upon this earth for no apparent reason. Unsurprisingly you feel quite alone, disoriented and encumbered by your flotilla of antennae. From here, how would you proceed? If you were in any way rational, it is likely that you…
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Monday 5 March 2012
Film

celluloid relapse: aesthetics rears its ugly head in beauty and the beast

Amy Miniter
4 comments

We, the living, are warned incessantly of the trappings of aesthetics. Hounded from infancy by parents, folklore, teachers and anything vaguely resembling authority, our spawn soon learn to forsake a glamorous exterior in search of an elusive inner core. These warnings whilst omnipresent are neither threat nor intimidation. Found somewhere in the lower end of…
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