While I am making steady progress ticking things off my Life To-Do-List, the seemingly attainable goal of ‘be a studio audience member in a commercial television show' has consistently eluded me. I have received countless knock-backs from shows as diverse as Deal or No Deal and Tony Jones's Q&A.
A 90210 joke here, a Boyz II Men comment there, some RIP Kurt Cobain street art for good measure, and hey presto: it's 1994! Welcome to director Jonathan Levine's The Wackness.
This earnest, urban melodrama is hardly Spike Lee. When white guy Luke (Josh Peck) falls in love with white girl Stephanie (Olivia Thirlby), the warm fuzzies aren't exactly dumbed down, but there's no brain-breaking politics either.
Be one of the first to fall in love with the next Gail Sorronda or George Wu at QUT's graduate fashion parade ‘Material Thinking'. The night will witness 13 graduate collections ranging from intriguing accessories, vibrant coloured street wear and opulent evening dresses.
The stylish soiree will also reminisce about fashion's past, as bubbly glasses will be raised in a toast to the fifth anniversary of Fashion Design at QUT.
Word association: when I say "hunger strike", do you think "brimming with cinematic possibilities"? Maybe not. Turner Prize-winning artist and first-time feature director Steve McQueen thought otherwise, and it just won him the Camera d'Or prize at Cannes. (Shows what you know, huh?)
It's easy to see why.
Why does Dominick Dunne hate Frank Sinatra? Because Ol' Blue Eyes once instructed a flunky to punch Dominick in the head as a lark. Yes, Dunne's career trajectory - from social climber to movie producer to "the defining voice of Vanity Fair" - is weighed down by a torrential downpour of Old Hollywood name-dropping.
Chuck Palahniuk owned the late 90s. From the moment Fight Club splattered into popular consciousness, he stood in the cyclone-eye of our every swirling subcultural anxiety.
It seemed inevitable that we'd be bombarded with so many Palahniuk film adaptations that we'd finally have to learn how to spell his name - and yet it's taken this long to see CHOKE hit cinemas, translated into a dirty indie comedy with delusions of grandeur.
Ever since Blood Simple back in 1984, Joel and Ethan Coen have produced a steady stream of unrelentingly oddball features that totter on the border between melodrama and black humour. Now, after the unexpected success of last year's No Country for Old Men, it seems the Coen Brothers can do, well, whatever they please.
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