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Äta sova dö (Eat, Sleep, Die)
There’s only one Swedish language film in this year’s Sydney Film Festival. Even then, it’s not entirely in Swedish, as parts of the film are also in Serbian and Montenegrin. On top of that, there are bits where the parts in Swedish are delivered with accents. My eyes were popping up and down between the subtitles and the screen, as the conversations would sometimes be a combination of all of these languages.
“Äta sova dö” (“Eat, Sleep, Die”) centres on the story of a young woman who was born in Bosnia, but whose family moved to Sweden when she was only a child. She lives with her father in a small town in Southern Sweden, presumably not far from Malmö and Göteborg, as both cities are referenced in the film. The film never explains what happened to her mother, though I assume it would have something to do with the conflicts which occurred in those areas of the former state of Yugoslavia.
Now living in Sweden, the young woman is working in a process line at a food factory, while the father often travels to Norway to do manual labour, the kind of work which has caused him significant physical injury. When the food factory is forced to lay off people, she faces a number of challenges, including whether or not she might have to leave her small town to find work in Malmö.
She shows great passion and personal self-respect as she faces the challenge of finding a new job with few skills, without a driver’s licence, and in a town where there are few employment options.
There’s not a lot that “happens” in this film. It’s very much a “slice of life” movie, where the emphasis is on the characters, their thoughts and feelings. Her relationship with her father is very touching. Also touching is the connection she has with other immigrants living in the town, who feel somewhat isolated from the rest of Swedish society. Tellingly there are moments when you see there’s a “hierarchy of immigrants” based around how well people do or don’t speak Swedish.
I saw the film with a colleague who grew up in Sweden (Swedish father, Australian mother) but who lives here now. As we left the cinema we both agreed it was a lovely film which we enjoyed very much. “The one thing I’ve learned from the film was that I’ve definitely realised I’m very much a Stockholm kind of guy. That countryside looked really bleak”, I told her. We both agreed it would have been a bit of a shock for people attending the film festival expecting a Swedish film to a little happier and a little more colourful. Nonetheless, it’s a lovely film worth seeing if you ever get the chance to.
Perfect Saturday
As I wandered home from a really terrific lunch this afternoon, another great Darlinghurst laneway caught my eye. At first, it was the colour contrast between the spectacular blue sky and the bricks and stones, and then the “Hope Street” sign caught my eye. What’s that, I thought to myself? Hope Street 2010 Ministry “aims to bring greater independence and freedom to those whose lives are crippled by homelessness, long-term unemployment, sex work, problem gambling, poverty and loss of indigenous culture”.
It was then I began to feel a little guilty having just spent a fair amount of money on an expensive lunch at Bistro Moncur which, by the way, was fantastic.
“Feel like catching up for lunch on the weekend?”, I said to a mate on the phone the other night. “How does Bistro Moncur sound?”, he said to me last night on the phone, and without hesitation, I said yes. I’ve been there twice before, once with him and once with another friend, and on both occasions was impressed. I mean, it’s expensive by ordinary pub standards, but it’s worth it for the food, the atmosphere, and the service which was excellent.
For lunch, he had the crab omlette (which looked divine and “they didn’t scrimp on the crab meat” by his account), and I had the pan fried calves liver (which tasted divine, “better than the rubbery old liver mum used to cook”, I told him). For deserts, he had the orange, chocolate souffle while I had ice-cream, sorbet and berries. All of this accompanied by a bottle of Innocent Bystander Pinot Gris from the Yarra Valley, obligatory tap water and a lovely coffee at the end. Can you think of a better way to spend lunch on a Saturday?
As we walked back down Queen Street, Woollahra, we looked at shop windows containing nothing you would ever actually purchase, or things you would purchase at extraordinary prices. “Look at that”, I observed in one window, “half a dozen tea towels for thirty-dollars. Can you believe it?”. It was then I mentioned the small town of Bangalow, near Lismore which has transformed itself into a far more upmarket place than I remembered as a child. “You can buy anything here except nickers”, a friend recently commented, and that’s what I thought also about Queen Street, Woolahra.
“What are you going to do now?”, we asked each other at the end of our lunch. Although we both emphatically agreed we were not going home individually to have an afternoon nap, I succombed to the couch, and I bet he did too. For a moment I toyed with the idea of an afternoon walk in Centennial Park, but instead I turned the air conditioner on for the first time this summer, turned the television on for the first time in three days, and sat down to relax.
After today’s lunch, I think it’s cheese sandwiches for dinner tonight.
Australian Life
“At my funeral, can you take a photograph instead of having a guestbook?”, I asked my friend Sue on the weekend. “It’s always so hard thinking of what to say”, I added, noting it would be far more interesting and far easier just to take a photograph of everyone. The photograph of those attending the funeral of Martin Sharp was one of my favourites in this year’s “Art and About” “Australian Life” photographic competition.
Yes, “Australian Life” not “Sydney Life” as it has always been. The other addition this year was a separate photographic exhibition for children. “The composition of some of these photographs is really amazing”, Sue noted as we wandered around looking at the photographic work of children. “Most of my photographs from that time feature too much sky and lots of chopped off heads”, I noted.
Even with the changes this year, the photographic competition remains one of my favourite part of the annual “Art and About” project in Sydney. Although I thought there were a few photographic cliches this year, I still really loved the competition, and have shared with you, in situ, my favourites from this year’s competition.
Exit Row
How frustrating must it be to be a flight attendant? In the front row of six, there were only two of us paying any attention to the flight attendant’s instructions for the emergency row. The woman to my right was engrossed in her book, the man next to her was going through photographs on his mobile phone. And to the left, there were two with their eyes closed, while only one other person was paying attention. In the event of an emergency, I guess it was just me and one other who would be saving the lives of others.
I was on a flight back to Sydney, having spent the last ten days in Lismore.
Six weeks on from the “biggest flood”, followed by another “big flood” Lismore remains in a desperate state. Though many would like to believe a flood can be easily cleaned up with a mop and bucket, the events that have occurred are beyond that of a flood. Locally, people are describing it not so much as a flood, but as a cyclone or a tsunami.
I went for a walk around the “main block” yesterday and there’s only a handful of shops that have resumed business. In the main CBD, there are only two clothing stores that are open (selling limited items), a couple of coffee shops, and a couple of bottle shops. The bottle shops are selling some beer that went through the flood. Not so much of an issue, but we made a purchase a few days which had residual mud under the ring pull. I don’t mind so much, though you might imagine others might feel quite strongly. In case you’re wondering, they refer to it upfront as “flood beer”.
I also went for a walk down by the riverside. Last year, while staying in Lismore, you might recall I would often go down by the riverside for some exercise/relaxation. Though you would often see people walking their dogs, there were very few people there yesterday. A couple of kids on their bikes stopped and said hello, along with a couple of women. Twelve months ago, they might not have said hello, but yesterday they were keen for a chat. Along the riverbank, the soil remains sodden, and the devastation of fast-moving river currents remains evident in the grasslands.
Nearby, the old RSL Club (more recently a childcare centre) was being demolished. The water in the nearby swimming pool was still brown. And the city bowling club remained a mess. I read the other day they’ve decided to close down the club and distribute funds amongst members.
On the radio this morning, I heard an academic from Southern Cross University talk about recommendations to relocate the “main functions” of the CBD to the land currently occupied by the East Lismore Golf Course. The land is above a 15-metre flood (the recent flood made it to 14 metres).
On the surface, that makes a lot of sense, though it’s going to take a lot of commitment (and dollars!) for that to occur. Too many “experts,” think it’s a simple case of moving the businesses and shops to a higher location, without thinking through who is going to pay for it to happen.
In locations like North and South Lismore, there are elderly residents on low incomes who either own or rent and who simply can’t afford to move.
And then there’s the “Vicar Of Dibley” factor. There was an episode of that wonderful British TV series, where the people of Dibley were offered incentives to move to a new location, in the midst of a proposal to flood Dibley. Despite the offerings, they decided Dibley was their home, and the connections were more important than a new house.
As I wrote about last year during the months I lived back in South Lismore, there’s a strong community connection too. Even though I knew South Lismore could flood, there’s part of me that’s still so strongly connected to this community, that makes me think I could possibly still buy a house and live there. But, of course, I’m dreamin’.
Nonetheless, Pat and Jack want to move home. Their house is uninhabitable right now, but they still feel more comfortable in a flood-impacted house in the middle of town than living on the outskirts of a Lismore suburb.
My niece and nephew (not a couple) have already moved back home. Their existence is more like “camping” than living, with limited power. They’re not the only ones who’ve done this. When the second flood came through, it’s estimated that 25% of people who lived through the first flood, were already back home.
It doesn’t make sense to anyone from anywhere else. “The town has got to move”, friends and colleagues from elsewhere have said to me. In reply, I’ve told them it’s not that simple. If like me and many others you’ve lived through previous floods, and you have a house on stilts (built above the 1973 flood level), you still have a feeling you can survive again.
During the 2017 flood, Nancy was insistent that she stayed at home in South Lismore. “I’ve lived through 54, 74 and others, and there’s no need to move out this time”, she said. We reminded her she was much younger then, and couldn’t afford the same luxuries in her 70s as she enjoyed in her 40s.
That’s likely something I’ll need to consider also. East Lismore has always been on my list of possible places to live in Lismore, and if that’s where the CBD moves to, maybe that will make sense for me too.
Mixed Bag
“There were so many podcasts I’ve never heard of”, I told quite a few people at last night’s Australian Podcast Awards. Though I knew a lot of people attending, including quite a few finalists and winners, there was a distinct “knowledge gap” for me about many of the commercial sector podcasts.
In contrast to the recent podcast day I attended, this was a much more “commercial” event. https://thelimbshift.com/2022/10/are-podcasts-dying/ There were quite a few nominees and winners from the ABC, including the podcast I work on. However, most of the nominees and winners were from podcast apps like Listnr, I Heart and Nova.
As well as some great company and conversations (and a few drinks/food), I came home with a long list of podcasts to listen to. These include “Hi, I’m Eddie” https://www.slq.qld.gov.au/discover/podcasts/hi-im-eddie produced by former ABC colleague, Rhianna Patrick, and the overall winner, “The Last Outlaw” https://thelastoutlaws.com.au/ I also came home with a realisation I need to seek out more podcasts from the commercial radio and community sectors, to know more about podcasts than just the ABC.
For me, it’s been a very busy few days.
It all started on Friday night when a couple of friends and I went to the recording of an ABC TV special, to go to air in the lead-up to Christmas. Hosted by Nazeem Hussein, the special featured a range of musicians and comedians, with an emphasis on diversity. There were lots of laughs.
It was such a delight to see long-time musical favorites like Linda and Vika Bull appear live, as well as remote video inserts from Paul Kelly in Melbourne and Kate Miller-Heidke in Brisbane. We all laughed out loud at the “rather spicy” lyrics of the song by Kate about “growing a beard down there for Christmas”.
And then on Saturday, the same couple of friends and I went to the Marrickville Musical Festival. It was very much a “grassroots” musical festival, with school bands and lots of indi performers across a range of genres.
On Sunday I went to see the movie, “Bros”, which has been described as “the first mainstream gay romcom”. It had all of the conventional story of “love gone wrong, and then finally achieved” you find in most romcoms, except the two lead characters are men.
As much as I loved the idea of playing with the convention, I still found the film somewhat annoying. In fact, I thought it was a little “too gay” for my liking. In the back of the romantic comedy, there was a lot about “gay politics” and identity that I just wasn’t interested in. I understand why it was there, to contrast the lives of the two lead characters, I just found it personally a little distracting and alienating.
And from there, I went to the nearby Uniting Church at Newtown for the installation of my friend Karina Kreminski as a minister for one of the emerging communities, Surry Hills.
It was a wonderful experience to be there, to share the experience, and to hear an affirmation of faith.
After the last week, I feel like I need to rest up a bit.
Bowral’s OTHER Famous Resident
“Gee, it’s a bit of a worry when things from your childhood start to appear as ‘antique’ or ‘vintage'”, I said to my friend Sue, as we looked around the Dirty Janes Antique Market in Bowral. As well as the slide projector which I’m sure was similar to the one our primary school had in the early 1970s, there were cameras for sale which I might have used, vintage radios, and even a clarinet in a case not disimilar to the one I played in primary and high school.
Half way through the week, Sue and I decided it was time for a bit of “country air”, and so I suggested a day trip to Bowral in the NSW Southern Highlands. It’s about 90 minutes drive from where we live in Sydney, it has lots of great little shops to look at, and some terrific places to wine and dine.
But of course Bowral is most famous as the hometown of Australia’s greatest cricketer, Don Bradman. There’s cricket field and a museum both dedicated in his honour.
There’s more than Bradman in the cricket museum.
Despite the rain, we had a lovely day looking around the area.