Back in 2004, Tim Minchin was a ranga from Perth who wrote weird satirical songs that record companies didn't know how to market. Then he had a makeover! (I love makeovers.) Rock'n'roll eyeliner! Chemically straightened hair teased up, like Russell Brand! Unbuttoned shirts! And get this: it totally worked.
Iggy and Bowie went there. Nick Cave and RSH went there. Even HTRK and The Devastations went there. Now you can see what all the fuss was about with Rainer Werner Fassbinder's Berlin Alexanderplatz screening at ACMI in two separate packages the coming fortnight.
This fully-restored, 16-hour epic of neue Deutsche cinema follows hulking manchild ex-con Franz Biberkopf's wanderings from one disaster to the next in the 1920s Berlin underworld.
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.
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.
In Hong Kong, Johnnie To's films are such blockbusters that he's credited with single-handedly keeping their entire film industry afloat. But here? Any film that's not in English gains a weird arthouse sheen, and you'll have to head to ACMI's latest retrospective to see what the fuss is about.
There are twelve examples on show from Johnnie To's prolific career, but maybe start with the trailer to 2001's Fulltime Killer.
OK all you savages, you lovers of commas, you students of fear. The man who made it acceptable to write about whatever the hell you want as long as you mean what you say, the pioneer of GONZO journalism, the one and only late, great, Hunter S. Thompson is the subject of a new documentary screening at ACMI.
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.
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