May 28, 2010
What's in the Box?
Apologies for the large file size on YouTube - I bought myself a new audio/video recorder, and haven't quite worked out how to compress anything yet. This may not be suitable for work; I guess it just depends on how humourous your particular workplace finds saucy props.
May 27, 2010
A Night at the Opera
Talk about your comic fricking farce.
My parents and Grandma kindly took me to the Lyric Theatre this evening to see The Elixir of Love, an opera about which I knew nothing except that it was supposedly "Australian".
Huh? We do operas now?
Well, no (or maybe, I don't know much about opera). This one was actually a Donizetti from 1832, but they themed it Australiana-bush-farm style. The whole set was constructed out of corrugated iron - down to the sheep, cows, galahs and pet dog. It was quite ingenious, really. The opera itself - well, as I said, I don't know much about opera, but there was singing, more singing, over-acting, some nice bits of humour, surprising product placement, and to top it off, more singing. All I know is that opera seems to have far less cursing than the theatre I've been involved with of late, so it must be classy.
But it was all the stuff around the opera that made the evening so impressive.
First my Mum gets thwacked on the head by a rogue toilet door. Then she and I completely lost my Dad, who'd gone to buy interval drinks. The foyers of the Lyric are big, but not THAT big. The bells were ringing as I rushed to grab half a mouthful of lemon, lime & bitters my Dad had left on a bar table on level 3. I got told off by an usher for sneaking a few crisps before the curtains went up on Act 2.
After the show, we headed to the Treasury for a bite to eat and the inevitable flutter that happens with my parents at the casino. My Dad wound up losing his casino rewards card and had to get a new one, before all four of us lost our flutter money. To top it off, for some reason we were chatting about ye-olde-time caning in schools, and when I asked my mother why she'd been caned across the hands as a girl in Ireland, she exasperatedly said, "Because I just could never do ANYTHING right!".
I'm starting to think this whole clumsy business is fricking genetic.
My parents and Grandma kindly took me to the Lyric Theatre this evening to see The Elixir of Love, an opera about which I knew nothing except that it was supposedly "Australian".
Huh? We do operas now?
Well, no (or maybe, I don't know much about opera). This one was actually a Donizetti from 1832, but they themed it Australiana-bush-farm style. The whole set was constructed out of corrugated iron - down to the sheep, cows, galahs and pet dog. It was quite ingenious, really. The opera itself - well, as I said, I don't know much about opera, but there was singing, more singing, over-acting, some nice bits of humour, surprising product placement, and to top it off, more singing. All I know is that opera seems to have far less cursing than the theatre I've been involved with of late, so it must be classy.
But it was all the stuff around the opera that made the evening so impressive.
First my Mum gets thwacked on the head by a rogue toilet door. Then she and I completely lost my Dad, who'd gone to buy interval drinks. The foyers of the Lyric are big, but not THAT big. The bells were ringing as I rushed to grab half a mouthful of lemon, lime & bitters my Dad had left on a bar table on level 3. I got told off by an usher for sneaking a few crisps before the curtains went up on Act 2.
After the show, we headed to the Treasury for a bite to eat and the inevitable flutter that happens with my parents at the casino. My Dad wound up losing his casino rewards card and had to get a new one, before all four of us lost our flutter money. To top it off, for some reason we were chatting about ye-olde-time caning in schools, and when I asked my mother why she'd been caned across the hands as a girl in Ireland, she exasperatedly said, "Because I just could never do ANYTHING right!".
I'm starting to think this whole clumsy business is fricking genetic.
May 23, 2010
Bond Theme Songs: A Countdown (Part IV)
May 21, 2010
Bond Theme Songs: A Countdown (Part III)
You know, this list could spring into all manner of Bond-themed lists. Best opening title sequence. Best actual video clip. Best Bond girl name. Best gadget. Best stunt sequence... there's material for a dozen blogs. Something to remember during one of my (sadly regular) idea droughts. But for now, let's continue the countdown. It's balls to the wall time. Specifically...
May 20, 2010
Bond Theme Songs: A Countdown (Part II)
This is a bit of a tough gig, you know. I love all these songs in their own way. Picking favourites is hard. But let's plough on - and to start, let's take a trip back to the Swinging Seventies...
May 19, 2010
Bond Theme Songs: A Countdown (Part I)
I'm a big fan of the James Bond films. Some of my earliest childhood memories are watching them with my family, my Mum trying to remember which bits belonged to which film, while my Dad and brother gleefully took in the fight scenes, and ogled the lovely ladies as they gradually lost their ... inhibitions.
The first Bond film I saw at the cinema was 1995's Goldeneye, Pierce Brosnan's first outing as 007, and in my opinion still his best. 'Twas Boxing Day, and afterwards my family all went for a "walk" in some "state forest". You know, to be "outdoors" on "such a nice day". Well, having realised mid-film that my destiny was to grow up to be a super-fit, ass-kicking secret agent, I decided to go running. Like really RUNNING. I took off along the bush trail, the "dum-da-da-dum-dum" guitar licks on repeat in my head like my own awesome movie soundtrack. I was a MACHINE. I was going to be SO COOL. I was going to...
"Natalie!" my mother cried. "Don't run off!"
D'oh.
I still get the same feeling during/after watching Bond films - that gnawing sense of failure that I've lived almost three decades on this planet and have never yet speargunned a wetsuit-clad assassin through the heart while punning/and or shagging. It's interesting that many people ask me if I "want to be a Bond girl", and my answer is sure - but only because my gender restricts me from being Bond (Bond, like Harry Potter, Doctor Who and Robin Hood is a male character. Deal with that, and look to Xena for arse-kicking female characters to emulate).
Anyway, all this is leading me in a roundabout way towards my topic. I've decided to list the Bond theme songs in order of pretty awesome to THE MOST AWESOME. Then I promise I'll stop using the word awesome. For at least five minutes.
Important points to note: I've excluded the Monty Norman's classic "James Bond Theme" from Dr No, and the official Best Driving Music Ever - "On Her Majesty's Secret Service". That's because NOTHING beats those pieces of music when it comes to iconically Bond, and also because they don't have words. I'm also excluding Never Say Never Again - I don't CARE that Connery was in it, it's NOT canon and besides his hairpiece is RIDICULOUS. Same goes for the 1967 "satire" Casino Royale (take your pick with the hairpieces). Finally, this list doesn't reflect on what I think of the movies themselves.
So that leaves 20 signature themes to rank. Will there be controversy? Will anyone even care? Who knows! Let's do it anyway for Queen and country, keep the British end up, etc etc.
The first Bond film I saw at the cinema was 1995's Goldeneye, Pierce Brosnan's first outing as 007, and in my opinion still his best. 'Twas Boxing Day, and afterwards my family all went for a "walk" in some "state forest". You know, to be "outdoors" on "such a nice day". Well, having realised mid-film that my destiny was to grow up to be a super-fit, ass-kicking secret agent, I decided to go running. Like really RUNNING. I took off along the bush trail, the "dum-da-da-dum-dum" guitar licks on repeat in my head like my own awesome movie soundtrack. I was a MACHINE. I was going to be SO COOL. I was going to...
"Natalie!" my mother cried. "Don't run off!"
D'oh.
I still get the same feeling during/after watching Bond films - that gnawing sense of failure that I've lived almost three decades on this planet and have never yet speargunned a wetsuit-clad assassin through the heart while punning/and or shagging. It's interesting that many people ask me if I "want to be a Bond girl", and my answer is sure - but only because my gender restricts me from being Bond (Bond, like Harry Potter, Doctor Who and Robin Hood is a male character. Deal with that, and look to Xena for arse-kicking female characters to emulate).
Anyway, all this is leading me in a roundabout way towards my topic. I've decided to list the Bond theme songs in order of pretty awesome to THE MOST AWESOME. Then I promise I'll stop using the word awesome. For at least five minutes.
Important points to note: I've excluded the Monty Norman's classic "James Bond Theme" from Dr No, and the official Best Driving Music Ever - "On Her Majesty's Secret Service". That's because NOTHING beats those pieces of music when it comes to iconically Bond, and also because they don't have words. I'm also excluding Never Say Never Again - I don't CARE that Connery was in it, it's NOT canon and besides his hairpiece is RIDICULOUS. Same goes for the 1967 "satire" Casino Royale (take your pick with the hairpieces). Finally, this list doesn't reflect on what I think of the movies themselves.
So that leaves 20 signature themes to rank. Will there be controversy? Will anyone even care? Who knows! Let's do it anyway for Queen and country, keep the British end up, etc etc.
May 18, 2010
JB's cameo & Commemorative Urinal
Thought these photos might be more enjoyable in mini-movie form:
Again, thanks to all involved - such good times.
May 17, 2010
Au Revoir, Tassie Babes
See all of these people? These are amazing, wonderful, talented people who I am proud to call friends:
This is the cast of The Tasmanian Babes Fiasco after our closing night's performance on Saturday 15 May. With them is the book's author, John Birmingham, and the playwright, Simon Bedak - both extraordinarily kind and generous gentlemen whom I remain indebted to.
I'd like to write a longer, more reflective piece about the show and all the challenges and joys it brought - but it may have to wait until I've had a teensy bit more sleep.
But I did want to express my dearest thanks to everyone who came along to see Tassie Babes. Your support and enthusiasm is a balm to the creative soul, and means so much to people who do all of this stuff for the sheer love of it. Thank you all so much.
I also wanted to share a few more photos with you. First up, the most glorious final-night surprise for me as director - a cameo by John Birmingham at the start of Act Two. As I understand, he and Simon had gone down to chat to the cast at interval, where the plot was hatched. I was told something had been changed, but had no idea what. When I gazed down at the stalls from my spot in the balcony and saw JB's seat in the front row was empty, I quickly got my camera ready just in case. And well I did!
JB strolled out through the screen door, examined our red cocktail bucket, then grabbed a bong, lit up, took a drag, then strolled downstage, down the stairs and back to his seat. It was simply brilliant.
After the curtain call, we held a presentation ceremony to officially launch our revamped toilet block. The centrepiece was the unveiling of plaques dedicating our men's facility in honour of the author and playwright - now the "John Birmingham and Simon Bedak Commemorative Urinal":
And finally, I was able to snap a photo of the dedicated Burgers who came to closing night - even some from as far as Melbourne and Canberra! These guys have been so supportive and positive - I'm so pleased they had a great time.
In this picture, you can actually see JB handing Mr Abe Frellman (the Sausage King from Queanbeyean) ten dollars. This was because Abe won a bet back at the end of last year - I believe it had something to do with the timing of Malcolm Turnbull's rolling as Liberal leader. I'm pleased that Tassie Babes could be the place where finally, the bet was settled.
Thanks again to all. I have many more photos - and video taped by a cast member! - I'd like to share, so hopefully in coming days I'll do that.
This is the cast of The Tasmanian Babes Fiasco after our closing night's performance on Saturday 15 May. With them is the book's author, John Birmingham, and the playwright, Simon Bedak - both extraordinarily kind and generous gentlemen whom I remain indebted to.
I'd like to write a longer, more reflective piece about the show and all the challenges and joys it brought - but it may have to wait until I've had a teensy bit more sleep.
But I did want to express my dearest thanks to everyone who came along to see Tassie Babes. Your support and enthusiasm is a balm to the creative soul, and means so much to people who do all of this stuff for the sheer love of it. Thank you all so much.
I also wanted to share a few more photos with you. First up, the most glorious final-night surprise for me as director - a cameo by John Birmingham at the start of Act Two. As I understand, he and Simon had gone down to chat to the cast at interval, where the plot was hatched. I was told something had been changed, but had no idea what. When I gazed down at the stalls from my spot in the balcony and saw JB's seat in the front row was empty, I quickly got my camera ready just in case. And well I did!
JB strolled out through the screen door, examined our red cocktail bucket, then grabbed a bong, lit up, took a drag, then strolled downstage, down the stairs and back to his seat. It was simply brilliant.
After the curtain call, we held a presentation ceremony to officially launch our revamped toilet block. The centrepiece was the unveiling of plaques dedicating our men's facility in honour of the author and playwright - now the "John Birmingham and Simon Bedak Commemorative Urinal":
And finally, I was able to snap a photo of the dedicated Burgers who came to closing night - even some from as far as Melbourne and Canberra! These guys have been so supportive and positive - I'm so pleased they had a great time.
In this picture, you can actually see JB handing Mr Abe Frellman (the Sausage King from Queanbeyean) ten dollars. This was because Abe won a bet back at the end of last year - I believe it had something to do with the timing of Malcolm Turnbull's rolling as Liberal leader. I'm pleased that Tassie Babes could be the place where finally, the bet was settled.
Thanks again to all. I have many more photos - and video taped by a cast member! - I'd like to share, so hopefully in coming days I'll do that.
May 13, 2010
On A Bridge
I'm sure getting excited about infrastructure isn't very cool or trendy, but gosh darn it - today was a fun day to be at work. The day was fine, the skies blue, and the fresh bitumen strong on the nostril and sticky underfoot:
May 11, 2010
Return to Surplus
Return to Sender by Elvis Presley
As sung by Treasurer Wayne Swan
I'm gonna tell you my budget
I'll just stick to the facts
There's already such outrage
About my mining tax
But I gotta:
Return to surplus, the debt is blown
No more borrow, no more loan
Miners don't like it, they threw a spac
Oh please X-Strata
Won't you come on back?
So I gotta speak in Canberra
And you're all eye and ear
But I'm afraid there's no sweeteners
In this election year
Because I gotta:
Return to surplus, by 2015
No more spending, no more schemes
This time I'm gonna do it right
Although this doc's a dud
But hey at least I'm more popular
Than that dude Kevin Rudd
Because I'm gonna:
Return to surplus, it may be hard
But I want another kiss, from that Gillard
As sung by Treasurer Wayne Swan
I'm gonna tell you my budget
I'll just stick to the facts
There's already such outrage
About my mining tax
But I gotta:
Return to surplus, the debt is blown
No more borrow, no more loan
Miners don't like it, they threw a spac
Oh please X-Strata
Won't you come on back?
So I gotta speak in Canberra
And you're all eye and ear
But I'm afraid there's no sweeteners
In this election year
Because I gotta:
Return to surplus, by 2015
No more spending, no more schemes
This time I'm gonna do it right
Although this doc's a dud
But hey at least I'm more popular
Than that dude Kevin Rudd
Because I'm gonna:
Return to surplus, it may be hard
But I want another kiss, from that Gillard
May 9, 2010
Help Me Sell Out My Shows
I'd like to sell out those four shows.
I'd like my cast and crew to have the joy of performing in front of packed houses for their last four outings as these amazing, funny, crazy characters. I'd like to be able to stand at the back of the theatre, peeking through the curtain that leads into the stalls, and see rows and rows of heads thrown back in the throes of gut-laughter. I'd like to be able to show John Birmingham and Simon Bedak how much we were able to rock their work.
For those of you who have seen the show, or are coming along this week - thank you. Thank you a hundred times over. Your support has meant the world to me. This show is the result of a monumental effort from many, and your attendance and enthusiasm is a blessing upon that work. To entertain you and make you laugh is the best reward we could get - but of course, by buying a ticket you have helped support a local theatre that is working hard to survive and flourish.
For those who haven't come yet or are still deciding, can I make this impassioned plea:
This is a unique production. It's unlike anything else you'll see on the boards. It's a guaranteed laugh - you have to be made of stone to not giggle and guffaw your way through this show. It's local - Brisbane is its heart and soul. And it's relatively cheap - at $25 a ticket for adults, or $20 for concessions.
If you read my blog and get any kind of enjoyment from it - if my silly tales of life as an improvising actor-type, a clumsy journalist and a wannabe writer ever raise a smile or provide an amusing distraction - then I implore you to come along to one of our final four shows this week - Wednesday 12th , Thursday 13th, Friday 14th or Saturday 15th May (our epic closing night).
I love writing this blog. I love that people read it. I love that I now know many of you in real life because of this blog. I love the idea that there might be reading this who never comment or never tell me they read it - they just cruise over and have a look.
I'll always pimp my shows on this blog - although I do hope to increase and vary the content after Tassie Babes finishes (exhaustion does somewhat hamper output!). But nothing I pimp will ever be quite like Tassie Babes. It's my favourite book, that I've been able to bring to the stage. I'm so, SO proud of it. And I want to show it off.
Please consider - and please book.
Thank you all so, so much.
May 6, 2010
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