Art Smitten

Christian chats to the singer-writer about the launch tour of his new EP, Change It All, running until Saturday December 16.

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Silvi and Christian chat to the duo about the their preview season of Circus Oz: The Strange and Spektakulär Lives of Otto & Astrid, playing at the Meat Market (5 Blackwood, North Melbourne) until Saturday December 9.

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Julia chats to singer/songwriter Stu Larsen about his new album, Resolute, andhis  Australian tour running until December 9.

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Christian chats to the Programme Manager of the 2018 Midsumma Festival, running from January 14 - February 4.

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Christian chats to one of the performers in Please Hold, playing at the NICA National Circus Centre in Prahran from November 29 - December 9.

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Maria chats to actor/author Greg Sestero, who played Mark in The Room, about The Disaster Artist, which releases at Hayden Orpheum Picture Palace, Luna Cinemas and Cinema Nova on November 30 and nationwide on the December 7.

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Maria and Smithers chat to Bridget Balodis, the director of desert, 6:29pm which is playing at Red Stitch Actors Theatre (Rear 2 Chapel St, St Kilda East) from November 22 to December 14.

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Julia and Tarnay chat to Jane Devery, one of the contemporary art curators at NGV Australia, Federation Square, about their upcoming free exhibitions by Louise Paramour, Mel O’Callaghan, Del Kathryn Barton and Helen Maudsley, running until March 12, 2018.

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There’s a strange phenomena that occurs when you go to review something as intriguing and over-hyped as Loving Vincent. First, you are excited, so you mark your expectations up. Then, aware of your excitement, you mark them down again. Then, not wanting to seem like a hapless sheep bleating about how magnificent something is based on a glitzy first impression, you start scrutinising the piece religiously, not wanting to fall into the trap of being seen to like it. And then, finally, you grow conscious that you’re doing this and go back to being excited.

I’m not sure exactly what stage of that tortured analysis I was in when I eventually sat down and watched Loving Vincent, but what I can say is that it is a captivating piece of art that genuinely engages people of all tastes.

The premise of Loving Vincent centres around Vincent Van Gogh’s final weeks in 1896, and the strange, unexplored factors surrounding his alleged suicide - although, the film’s main drawcard is not its story, but its style. Across the entire hour-and-a-half, every single shot, every single frame, is a real oil painting. It’s a remarkable feat; over several months, hundreds of painters created nearly two hundred individual paintings, from which they re-sketched over 18,000 individual frames - all in Van Gogh’s signature style,, of course. The amount of choreography, manpower and time that went into putting together this one film is staggering, and impressive in its own right.

And I am pleased to say that they pulled it off; the ‘moving painting’ effect really is nothing like I’ve ever seen in cinema before. Characters swirl and swim around a deep, colourful background; objects sprawl and disintegrate in and out of focus; characters move with a quick, watery gait; even the fixed environments themselves appear to vibrate, or flow like a river of hues. Some would say that this sensation is similar to animation, but I would contend that it has an even richer base than your average animation, with swirls and peaks of the dobs of paint, and even the occasional brush caught in frame, triggering a rush as hundreds of three-dimensional objects flash before your face. These are interspersed with black-and-white flashbacks taken off of real photographs, providing a nice change of pace from the straight-painted frames. Initially I was afraid it was going to be a gimmick, and it was, but what’s wrong with that? If a gimmick is pleasant or useful, why should we condemn it just for being a gimmick? Corn chips, Beethoven, and the internal combustion engine were all gimmicks once, and look how far they’ve come.

That said, the reason why I describe it as a gimmick, is because the other areas of the film aren’t quite as overstated as the art style. Which isn’t entirely a criticism; indeed, I actually quite like how laid back the story was, in a humble, unpretentious sort of way. Granted, there isn’t a lot of Van Gogh himself in Loving Vincent, but I respected the bold choice on the part of the writers, and appreciate them focussing on just one element. By telling the story through the perspective of a vigilante investigator into Vincent’s death, a protagonist so generic that I couldn’t even be bothered looking his name up on IMDb, was an effective way of tying all the loose ends together and introducing the minor characters. I’m not sure how real to life these people were, but they were certainly interesting, The bubbly hotel owner, the eccentric town hooligan and the friendly psychologist secretly jealous of Vincent’s artistic skill are all distinguishably memorable.

Something interesting happens with the tone, too. At first, it opens like a tribute to the painter, using his more famous pieces as the establishing shots, before morphing into a whodunnit at about the midpoint and then, when the doctor’s introduced, starts toying with the themes of mental illness breeding irrationality. It’s rather deftly handled, though, never collapsing into a dark, gritty noir, but not glazing over the facts, either. I do also want to say a special mention about the end, because I personally was delighted by the way the Loving Vincent ended, in that it was a fitting, brave and fairly unseen direction for a conclusion to take in modern cinema, but nevertheless, without meaning to spoil, I imagine there are going to be a lot of people that will really hate this ending.

What I admired most about Loving Vincent, though, is that it is an uncommon example of a film that had style with substance, rather than the other way around. Preliminarily, there are breathtaking, mouthwatering visuals that someone of any disposition can enjoy, which are subsequently enhanced by a warm, enduring tale with a lot of heart. Sure, the cinematography might be over the top, the story may ramble and the protagonist is as forgettable as they come, but  even so, I guarantee there will be something that will have you Loving Vincent.

Written by Andrew Kelso

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On September 17th, 2017, Harry Dean Stanton passed away at the age of 91 years old. He lived the life of an actor, but known more specifically as a character actor. Character actors are known as people who play bizarre, memorable characters in films, who usually appear as a side role. It’s no surprise then that Stanton was a favourite in David Lynch’s films, appearing countless times throughout his long line of surreal creations. Stanton has had few lead acting roles, including that of Repo Man, Paris, Texas and, as one of this final films, Lucky.

Lucky is directed by John Carroll Lynch, who, similarly to Stanton, is widely known for his supporting roles in films as an actor, including Zodiac, The Founder, and American Horror Story. This is his first time stepping into the role as a director, and it goes without saying that he’s a natural at it, in his own way. Stanton is joined in the cast by Ron Livingston, famous for Office Space, and David Lynch, the man himself. As a side note, I find it interesting that three films debuted this year; Logan, Logan Lucky, and Lucky, as well as Logan Sparks co-writing Lucky itself. So, try not to get too confused.

Before I get into what Lucky truly means, let’s look at what Lucky is on the outside. Lucky is a 88 minute drama following the day to day life of Lucky, a 90 year old Atheist who is still kicking, even though he smokes a pack a day. Lucky’s dialogue is very conversational, but existential in nature, discussing the meaning of life, friendship and tortoises. Each actor displays a fantastic performance, and really sell it as real as they can. The visuals are simple, and sometimes surreal, edging into the area that David Lynch favours so well. The score however is something that hits home for me. Simple harmonica tunes with a western spin to it send my back to when I listened to Van Morrison and Bob Dylan with my father on his old cassettes. This kind of music is that of remembrance, old classics, and age. However, Lucky has a lot more to say internally.

Lucky, in itself, is a homage to Harry Dean Stanton's life, whether is meant too or not. Each character is interesting, memorable, and a little kooky, queuing off Stanton's long career of creating characters with this sole nature. Alongside this, the character of Lucky feels like it would be Stanton in real life, if not a exaggerated version of him. Even some lines which Lucky has can be traced to Stanton's own comments in interviews. “I'm 87 years old...I only eat so I can smoke and stay alive.. The only fear I have is how long consciousness is gonna hang on after my body goes.” Two years after he said this, Lucky was filmed, and the simple image that Stanton created here is almost splitting to that of what you see in Lucky.

However, Lucky isn’t just about Stanton. More importantly, it’s about death, and acceptance of such. Lucky explores what it means to be happy, and have friendship. Death surrounds us all, but this doesn’t mean we need to be afraid of it, or talk about if we are or not. Lucky is about just that. Lucky to be here, lucky to live, lucky to have friends and experience life and what it has to offer. But in the end death comes to us all, the only thing that is inevitable. Stanton’s other comment back in 2014 encapsulates the message Lucky wishes to tell, and a very similar line to this appears in the climax of the movie itself.

“The void, the concept of nothingness, is terrifying to most people on the planet. And I get anxiety attacks myself. I know the fear of that void. You have to learn to die before you die. You give up, surrender to the void, to nothingness.”

Lucky teaches us that we shouldn’t fear death, but you must learn what death truly is. That there is no going back, no second chances. Harry Dean Stanton’s life came to a close this year, but his legacy will live on through hundreds of examples of what he chose to do with his life. Lucky is the final piece which closes a truly fascinating existence, which we have been blessed to witness on film. Lucky opens November 16th, 2017.

Written by Hamish Vallance

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