Amongst Essendon’s injury crisis, he was the fourteenth out of fifteen players to have their AFL debut last year. Essendon have since re-signed him and he is now an AFL Cultural Diversity Ambassador.

As a lifelong Hawthorn supporter, it pains me to give Essendon credit for anything. But as a Vietnamese person, it is incredibly special to see Jayden Nguyen play the game I’ve loved my whole life.

Because of this, I’ve been paying close attention to the way that people are talking about him.

The headlines

Last week, the ABC published a story about how Jayden Nguyen is the AFL’s first Vietnamese player. Let’s do a quick fact check of what they said.

The headline: ‘Jayden Nguyen may be a rookie but the AFL’s first Vietnamese player has already made his mark’.

Correct, if we take AFL to mean the men’s competition.

The story then includes the line, ‘Nguyen is the first player of Vietnamese heritage to play Aussie rules at the highest level.’

Incorrect. Well, hilariously, it is partially right. But it isn’t Jayden. The first player of Vietnamese heritage to play Aussie rules at the highest level was named Nguyen – specifically, Mai Nguyen, who played AFLW in 2017.

AFL? AFLM? AFLW?

Unfortunately, the language used in footy circles is pretty confusing at the moment.

This is due to the fact that upon the introduction of the women’s competition, the AFL (the organisation) chose to only gender language related to the women’s game. Officially, the men’s competition is known as ‘AFL’ and the women’s competition as ‘AFLW’.

I am not a fan of this as it suggests that men’s sport is the default and women’s sport is othered.

Dr Kasey Symons, Lecturer in Communication (Sports Media) at Deakin University and co-founder of Siren Sport, shares similar concerns about the thought process behind adding women’s programs and teams to competitions.

‘The process is exactly that, ‘adding’, not including and authentically embedding women’s teams into core business. As such, we usually end up with a ‘W’ assignment to women’s programs with the overall product, sport, code remaining unchanged and normalising sport as for men as the default, with women added in a secondary capacity. I find that divide deeply problematic,’ Dr Symons said.

Currently, ‘AFL’ has the following four meanings:

This means that it is technically correct to say that Jayden Nguyen is the first Vietnamese AFL player. He is the first men’s player, and the men’s competition is officially known as ‘AFL’ while the women’s is ‘AFLW’.

He is not, however, the first Vietnamese player in the entire league. To use the ABC’s wording from within the article, he is not ‘the first player of Vietnamese heritage to play Aussie rules at the highest level.’ Because Mai Nguyen did that by playing AFLW in 2017.

Why am I being so picky? You could argue that from the context of the article, it’s clear that the ABC is talking about the men’s competition.

However, I think that language is especially important when it has been used to exclude women from traditionally masculine sporting contexts for decades. The way we talk about sport reveals our sexist bias as a society: that men are the default and women are an afterthought.

‘There is a very active othering of women’s sport, just by the nature of women’s sport being referred to as ‘women’s sport’. We see this all the time in sports media and marketing of sport. The messages we receive constantly reinforce women’s sport as outside of the normalised sports environment, a men’s sporting environment, as something secondary,’ Dr Symons said.

These instances are common. Tennis player Andy Murray has gone viral several times for correcting a journalist in 2017 who claimed that Sam Querrey was the first US player to reach a major semi-final since 2009. Murray interrupted the journalist and said, ‘Male player.’ Murray was correct: Serena Williams, Venus Williams, Coco Vandeweghe, Madison Keys and Sloane Stephens had all made a major semi-final since 2009.

Just a couple of weeks ago, while I was watching the Winter Olympics, a commentator of the men’s ice hockey final remarked that it had been a long time since the US had won a gold medal in ice hockey. I thought, no it hasn’t: the US women won one literally three days ago.

Language in sport matters because it is used to make women in sport invisible.

Mai Nguyen

Let’s meet the first player of Vietnamese heritage to play Aussie rules at the highest level.

26-year-old Mai Nguyen was drafted at pick number 49 in the inaugural 2016 AFLW Draft by the Greater Western Sydney Giants. Her home club was the University of New South Wales-Eastern Suburbs Stingrays (now known as the Bulldogs).

The ABC described her as ‘a spritely, tenacious and exceptionally fit young woman’.

She made her debut in Round 2 of the inaugural 2017 season against Carlton at Princes Park, where GWS lost by thirteen points.

She played three games across Rounds 2 to 4, rupturing her ACL in the third game which put an end to her season. She was subsequently delisted by GWS.

Who cares?

Some people might read this and think, well, okay, why would we care about a woman who played three games and then got delisted? AFLW was barely a thing in 2017, whereas AFLM is a massive million-dollar force in 2026.

It matters because Mai Nguyen was part of history. She played three games of Aussie Rules at the highest level. That’s not nothing. That’s three more than me.

AFLW in 2017 was revolutionary. It is incredibly difficult to be the first at anything and Mai was part of the inaugural season. The inaugural draft. She was a pioneer. Every single player from that first season was.

According to the ABC, Mai likely did it for as little as $8 an hour. She continued to work ‘close to 30 part-time hours a week’ at her job as a physiotherapist in order to get by.

‘Australian rules football has such a great opportunity to bring more people into the game that has been predominantly played by white Australians. There is so much capacity for more inclusion so to see Vietnamese players coming into the AFLM and AFLW leagues is so powerful and hopefully signals to more people that this sport is a space they can be part of too,’ Dr Symons said.

But also, say that no one else does care. Guess what? I care. I’m a Vietnamese fan of Aussie Rules football. I think it’s very cool to see people like me play my favourite sport and hear them talk about their experiences using the same shared language as me.

Jayden and Mai have both described the struggles of reconciling Vietnamese cultural expectations with sport. Mai ‘used to sneak out and go to training’ and found it ‘very hard’ to tell her parents that she was going to pursue professional sport.

Jayden said, ‘The Asian stereotype is your parents want you to become a doctor, a dentist, a lawyer … those sorts of jobs’.

Like both of Jayden and Mai’s fathers, my mother came to Australia as a refugee from Vietnam.

Wrap up

I am so thrilled to see Jayden Nguyen play men’s AFL. I will cheer him on every week (except when he plays Hawthorn).

But let’s not erase women like Mai Nguyen from history – especially not when AFLW history is only just beginning.

This year’s ten films delivered on so many levels. After a lacklustre crop in 2025, the 2026 line-up was a much-needed salve.

Here are my thoughts on all ten films nominated for the Academy Award for Best Picture.

Affeksjonsverdi (Sentimental Value) dir. Joachim Trier

At the centre of Affeksjonsverdi is the family house. The film opens with a monologue about the house, something which is often lost amongst the (well-deserved) discussion of the great performances in this film. The monologue so perfectly sets up the film; it would not be nearly as good without it. It allows the house to occupy an almost gothic sense as a character in the film.

Renate Reinsve and Stellan Skarsgård make for an excellent father-daughter duo. It is their stories which carry the heart of the film. Through their characters, the film does a good job of avoiding some of the narcissistic pitfalls which other films suffer when talking about themselves. While this is a movie about making movies, it has enough else going on for it all to remain interesting.

In a crowded category, Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas delivers what is probably my favourite Best Supporting Actress performance of the year as Agnes. The scene at the library where she is struggling to hold back messy tears in the quiet environment was the highlight of her performance.

Similarly, Elle Fanning is given a hefty challenge in her performance as American actress Rachel Kemp, brought in to star in Gustav’s movie after Nora turns him down. Fanning manages to traverse the thin line of making it clear that Kemp is a good actress not without merit, but that doesn’t make her right for the part.

Bugonia dir. Yorgos Lanthimos

Bugonia marks Greek director Yorgos Lanthimos’ third film nominated for Best Picture (following The Favourite and Poor Things) and overall the fourth that I have watched. Given the eccentricity and bizarre nature of Lanthimos’ work, it comes with little surprise that his newest film involves aliens and that is its major problem. Having experienced much of Lanthimos’ shock value before, his films have completely lost their novelty to me.

Bugonia is markedly different as it is not entirely a Lanthimos creation. Instead, it is an English-language remake of the 2003 South Korean film Save the Green Planet! written and directed by Jang Joon-hwan.

Bugonia is not without its moments. Similar to The Favourite, Lanthimos actually does shine with ordinary moments. The strained conversations between unhappy cousins Teddy (Jesse Plemens) and Don (Aidan Delbis) are well-constructed. Their small town life feels grandiose enough to be the story’s setting. Jerskin Fendrix’s score is nervy and unsettling and Robbie Ryan’s cinematography is stellar.

F1 dir. Joseph Kosinski

What is Brad Pitt doing here? No, really. F1 sets up a wonderful new Lewis Hamilton-inspired story starring Damson Idris as up-and-coming driver Joshua Pearce and yet we’re forced to deal with the washed up nonsense of former legend Sonny Hayes instead. The film’s best moments centre around Pearce, and yet by the end of the film it’s clear that this has actually been Hayes’ story all along.

Some of Kosinski’s brilliance from Top Gun: Maverick remains present in the beauty of the race sequences (particularly the most dramatic one, which is the clear highlight of the film). However, the film oscillates wildly between moments of genuine enjoyment and feeling like one of those dressed up in-flight safety videos that an airline is begging you to watch.

The character of Sonny Hayes is yet another entry in the rude and misunderstood genius canon (and I have no patience for them given there are arguably four on the line-up this year). Even Kerry Condon’s female technical director Kate cannot make him interesting.

F1 is an outlier on this year’s nomination list. Even though I didn’t love every single film on this list, at least I can say that the others took swings. I cannot say that F1 took any swings or did anything new for filmmaking.

Frankenstein dir. Guillermo del Toro

I am far from an adaptation purist but it’s fitting that del Toro’s Frankenstein ends not with a quote from the author Mary Shelley, but instead from the poet Lord Byron, given that it strays so far from the source material. Where Shelley’s story was rich with philosophical meaning and nuance, del Toro’s beats you over the head with its purpose countless times. Instead of a tortured tussle between creator and creature, del Toro makes it clear that the creator is the villain in the strongest sense long before his creation has even come to life.

Once I realised that this was not going to be the good Frankenstein adaptation that I had hoped for, I cast Shelley’s story aside and tried to evaluate the film on its own merits. I was still left with very little. Oscar Isaac gives a concerningly average performance as Victor, explaining his absence from the Best Actor conversation. While the design elements of this film have been well-lauded and it expects to win several Oscars in this department, I thought the film was dripping in ugly CGI and could not connect the decision to dress the film in a sense of extravagant luxury with its themes. It felt like a major misfire.

Australia’s own Jacob Elordi does stand out amongst the mess, delivering a solid performance as the Creature. Elordi’s tall stature and strangeness gives the Creature a decent otherworldliness.

Hamnet dir. Chloé Zhao

When I heard that Nomadland director Chloé Zhao was at the helm of Hamnet, I admit that initially I was confused. How could the masterful storyteller behind the quirky Nomadland be the best fit for a Shakespeare piece? Zhao quelled my anxieties in the opening few minutes: Hamnet is very much the story of Agnes, not Will, and she is first and foremost a lover of the forest. Zhao’s gift for shooting nature, and its importance to this film, shone through immediately. The Academy’s second (and still only one of two) female Best Director winner had done it again.

I am a sucker for a story about grief and I am a sucker for a story with any connection to Shakespeare. So this film did have an unnatural advantage over the others. But I still believe that Hamnet delivers outside of appealing to my personal interests through its true magnificence of storytelling and filmmaking craft.

Hamnet is not a subtle film. Hamnet is a film which builds and builds, like a symphony orchestra warming up. It overflows by its conclusion. Jessie Buckley delivers a truly masterful performance as Agnes. The hype for her is absolutely real and deserved.

Much also has been made of Max Richter’s hauntingly beautiful score, particularly the decision to reuse his famous ‘On the Nature of Daylight’ at the film’s end. Having spent a lot of time relistening to the score as a whole since and thinking it over, I love the decision. To me, at the heart of the film is the fact that grief is wholly unoriginal. Sometimes it is even boring. It is not new. It was not new when Shakespeare wrote about it. It was not new when Zhao made this film, or when Richter wrote any of his music. I think the song fits perfectly.

Hamnet is one of five films nominated for the newly-added Best Casting award for Nina Gold’s efforts, presumably due to her stroke of genius in casting brothers Jacobi and Noah Jupe to play Agnes’ son Hamnet and onstage Hamlet respectively. Much praise has been given to Jacobi for his spectacular turn as the titular Hamnet, but Noah must be applauded as well. Despite being Shakespeare’s most famous leading man, I have seen mediocre Hamlets before. Noah Jupe was certainly not one of them. Through a cinema screen, he made me feel the emotions of the theatrical role tenfold.

I’m willing to call it: getting out to see Hamnet in a cinema is one of the best decisions I’ll make this year. The absolute brilliance of the ending—water is present throughout the film, and the end felt like a dam bursting—meant that nobody in my cinema was ready to leave when the credits rolled. I cannot remember the last non-Marvel movie where that happened. By the time the credits had finished, the cinema was still half-full. I went to see Hamnet by myself; it didn’t feel like that at all.

Marty Supreme dir. Josh Safdie

Do not be fooled: despite the prevalence of the orange ping pong ball, this is not a movie about table tennis. It is a movie about a grifter.

Timothée Chalamet definitely demonstrated his star power by drawing out such a big crowd with his high-powered press tour for an A24 movie about a table tennis player that nobody really knew. Chalamet is a good actor, but he has certainly reshaped last year’s Bob Dylan into another annoying male protagonist.

I enjoyed the larger-than-life feeling of Marty Supreme. Josh Safdie did a good job of establishing all the different locations throughout the film, including 1950s New York (which probably explains the alleged $70 million budget). While this sounds like an obvious thing to accomplish, the success of it stood out in stark contrast to last year’s similarly jet-setting Emilia Pérez.

Overall though, Marty Supreme fell flat for me. I couldn’t seem to be that interested in seeing Chalamet’s controversial figure of Marty succeed or fail. I knew that he would do either equally spectacularly, but I never quite bought into the idea of ‘dreaming big’.

O Agente Secreto (The Secret Agent) dir. Kleber Mendonça Filho

Given that this marks the second Brazilian film nominated for Best Picture in the space of two years, it meant that I watched O Agente Secreto shortly after Ainda Estou Aqui creating an unintentional Brazilian military dictatorship historical film double feature.

I do have to say it took me a lot longer to get invested in O Agente Secreto given that its mystery unfurls slowly. But it was certainly worth sticking around, as the third act was its finest and it came to an immensely satisfying conclusion.

I held high expectations for Wagner Moura, given that he is nominated alongside Chalamet, DiCaprio, Hawke and Jordan for Best Actor, and he absolutely lived up to them. Similar to the film itself, I had my doubts early, but he absolutely won me over in the end. His place among the American giants of the category is well-deserved.

Tânia Maria as Dona Sebastiana is the textbook definition of a scene stealer, her charisma oozing out of each appearance. She would be a real contender for a Best Supporting Actress nomination in a more normal and less crowded year.

I can see why the Jaws references helped this film appeal to an American audience. They certainly help establish the identity of coastal Recife.

One Battle After Another dir. Paul Thomas Anderson

As a certified Licorice Pizza hater, I am ready to apologise to Paul Thomas Anderson. He knows how to make a movie. One Battle After Another is a great drama which expertly traverses many other genres at the same time with its comedic and thrilling moments.

Take your pick from the excellent performers: Leonardo DiCaprio continues to thrive in his loser era. Bob Ferguson is for all the people who missed his performance in Killers of the Flower Moon. Chase Infiniti shines as his daughter Willa completely on her own merit, let alone for a debut film performance. Sean Penn is a terrifying and idiotic villain. Benicio del Toro, Teyana Taylor and Regina Hall are complete scene stealers whenever they are present.

One Battle After Another also stood out to me as a film on this list at its peak form. Michael Bauman’s magnificent cinematography revealed many exciting visual moments which were made for the screen. It wasn’t a story which could exist anywhere; it was made for film.

I go to the movies to feel something and I felt stressed for at least a solid hour of this movie. I give at least half the credit to Jonny Greenwood’s wonderful score for creating such a gnawing sense of dread.

Sinners dir. Ryan Coogler

Regular readers of this series will be deeply surprised to learn that I managed to watch Sinners. So am I! As a shameful self-professed coward, horror is certainly my least favourite of all film genres. But I had heard so many good things about Sinners, and I cannot resist a film which boasts original music, so I left all my lights on and dove in.

In an era of endless reboots and biopics (this year’s Best Original Screenplay nominees contain two films based on figures who existed in real life), I love that Sinners feels brand new. Certainly, it pays homage to what came before it (which is evident by the number of consultants listed in the credits) but does so in both a novel and interesting way.

Again, this is another film with a whole host of great performances: Michael B. Jordan seeing double as protagonist twins Smoke and Stack, Hailee Steinfeld as the alluring but lost Mary, Jack O’Connell in a terrifying turn as vampire leader Remmick and Wunmi Mosaku as the witchy Annie. A wonderful surprise on nominations morning was the news that 73-year-old Delroy Lindo has earned his first Oscar nominated for his performance as Delta Slim.

Autumn Durald Arkapaw also made history on nomination morning, as the fourth woman nominated for Best Cinematography. She will be the first woman to win if her name is read out this morning.

The music lived up to its great reports, both Oscar veteran Ludwig Göransson’s wonderful score and Miles Caton’s great debut performance as blues musician Sammie. Perhaps underrated was Jayme Lawson’s dazzling performance as married singer Pearline.

Train Dreams dir. Clint Bentley

It felt like I was committing a horrible crime to watch a film as visually beautiful as this one at home on Netflix. By far my favourite part of Train Dreams was Adolpho Veloso’s cinematography and I was extremely pleased to see him land a nomination for his work. I loved the style of the film overall, well held together by its unusual voiceover narration by Will Patton as an unnamed narrator.

Train Dreams is a small-scale story and I liked that it knew that about itself. It never dared to venture much further than protagonist Robert’s life and it didn’t need to.

Despite less screen time, Kerry Condon is given much better material here in her role as Claire. Her scenes are some of the best in the film. And following her performance last year in The Brutalist, Felicity Jones once again did an excellent job as someone’s wife. The women do really shine in this film.

Ranking

This was a particularly tough year for ranking the films and reminded me why I hate it. In any year, I could happily see any of Hamnet, One Battle After Another and Sinners as the winner. Affeksjonsverdi (Sentimental Value) does not feel that far behind them either.

My ranking for 2026:

1. Hamnet dir. Chloé Zhao

2. One Battle After Another dir. Paul Thomas Anderson

3. Sinners dir. Ryan Coogler

4. Affeksjonsverdi (Sentimental Value) dir. Joachim Trier

5. Train Dreams dir. Clint Bentley

6. O Secrete Agente (The Secret Agent) dir. Kleber Mendonça Filho

7. Bugonia dir. Yorgos Lanthimos

8. Marty Supreme dir. Josh Safdie

9. F1 dir. Joseph Kosinski

10. Frankenstein dir. Guillermo del Toro

Here’s to an exciting ceremony for 2026!

The 98th Academy Awards ceremony will air on Channel 7 from 10am on 16 March 2026.

Grief is messy and complicated at the best of times. In Back to Te Maunga, we meet Isaac and Tāne ten years into their grief. The two long-time friends come together in the hunting cabin they all used to visit in order to mourn their friend Jake, pouring him a cup of whiskey alongside their own. The play investigates men’s mental health in a genuine and nuanced way that I hope will resonate with male audience members.

In those ten years, a chasm has emerged between them. In a very real way, it is a physical chasm as Isaac has moved to London while Tāne has stayed home in New Zealand. But it is also an emotional one, as they have fallen out of touch with each other. The story is filled with a desperation to delay confronting of emotion, littered with unanswered phone calls, late appearances and overdue family visits.

The play asks the question of how you choose to respond when life gets hard: Do you run away or do you stay? In a way, the choice is inherently doomed. If you stay, you’ll still change. If you run away, you’ll still bring yourself with you. As someone who often chooses to run away, I felt Isaac’s desperation to put physical distance between himself and the problem. The temptation to run away and reinvent yourself is too strong. You feel you must give in.

Despite this distance, Isaac and Tāne have the strength of friendship to pick up where they left off. They chat and joke like not a minute has passed, with the kind of natural humour that’s hard to recreate again afterwards. Joel Te Teira’s script traverses expertly between comedy and drama. The conversation flips between the silly and the serious, just as friends would do.

Jordan Selwyn and Joe Dekkers-Reihana deliver equally excellent performances as Isaac and Tāne. It is impossible to separate them. As in all two hander plays, there is no room for the two lead actors to hide in this piece. But there is no need to worry, as Selwyn and Dekkers-Reihana deliver both comedically and dramatically. They made me laugh and cry in the space of eighty minutes.

In a landscape often plagued by cookie cutter stories keen to reach as many people as possible by riding on a wave of vagueness, Back to Te Maunga shines due to its unwavering commitment to detail. This is most evident in Te Teira’s writing, as the script is filled with particulars from the specifics of Māori language and customs to the nitty gritty behind Isaac’s Dorrito chip packet design day job. Life is found in the details and Te Teira understands this exceptionally well.

This appreciation of details is also evident in the play’s design elements. The biggest design highlight is Zoë Rouse’s phenomenal set design. Walking into the modest space at the La Mama Courthouse, it feels like you are entering the hunting cabin along with Isaac and Tāne. The three walls of the cabin are littered with their objects and memories. The broken light still hangs unfixed on the wall.

Keegan Bragg’s direction must be applauded, for such a cohesive production could not have succeeded without a competent director. Bragg’s directorial vision is clear throughout the piece. Other highlights include Lyndall Grant’s fight choreography, evoking a fierce, explosive tension between the two men, and Harrie Hogan’s simple yet highly effective lighting design.

Back to Te Maunga succeeds because it is not afraid to enter scary territory surrounding grief and death. We so often treat grief like a competition amongst ourselves. Who knew the person best, who gets to be the saddest. Sometimes we even treat it like a competition within ourselves, we tell ourselves we should feel more or less sad than we do. But grief is not a competition. Grief is survival. Stories about grief always endure because we do desperately want to know what the answer is. Of course there is no answer. But we want one anyway.

Having had another work Ngātai performed in a reading by Melbourne Theatre Company and shortlisted for the Queensland Premier’s Drama Award, I very much hope to see more of Te Teira’s writing performed in the Melbourne theatre scene in the near future.

Rating: Highly recommend

Play: Back to Te Maunga
Writer: Joel Te Teira
Theatre: Antipodes Theatre Company
Director: Keegan Bragg
Starring: Joe Dekkers-Reihana (Tāne) and Jordan Selwyn (Isaac)
Dates and venue: La Mama Courthouse until 22 March 2026

Except for me. Last year, I didn’t manage to fulfil my annual quest to watch all ten movies nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars. I submitted the thesis for my Master’s degree shortly before the ceremony and then felt too burnt out to really do anything productive after that (the whole story is here if you’re interested in further details). In the back of my mind, I knew I still wanted to watch all the movies at some point later in the future.

Therefore, I am pleased to introduce my belated breakdown of all the movies nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars 2025.

Unfortunately, due to my ongoing cowardice in the face of horror movies, I was unable to watch The Substance.

But I have good news! Instead, I have procured an expert to cover it: my friend Leah Anderson will be providing a review of The Substance. Her credentials include a Master’s degree in film history, watching 14 films at the Melbourne International Film Festival last year and nine years of on-the-ground consumer-based research (also known as working at Hoyts).

A Complete Unknown dir. James Mangold

After 140 minutes, unfortunately Bob Dylan still remains a complete unknown to me. Perhaps this film provided some joy to his knowledgeable fans, but to an outsider it felt like a glorified highlight reel of his greatest hits strung together with some half-true moments from his life.

This movie was completely devoid of all the magic that usually inhabits music. It offered no real interrogation into Dylan’s creative process or decision-making. It is simply another forgettable entry in the ongoing trend of movies about male geniuses who get away with being socially awkward, uncommunicative and unkind. For those wanting a version of that story with something to say, I’d skip this and watch Tick, Tick… Boom! instead.

Timothée Chalamet, while a great actor who will likely win an Oscar one day, is not remarkable enough to save this film. Chalamet’s best performances so far have instead come when he has been directed by Greta Gerwig.

Elle Fanning (Sylvie Russo) and Monica Barbaro (Joan Baez) both manage to do their best to play Dylan’s various discarded love interests despite an overwhelming lack of interesting material to work with. Barbaro in particular shines whenever she plays Baez onstage.

Ainda Estou Aqui (I’m Still Here) dir. Walter Salles

It is hard to say that I enjoyed watching a film about forced disappearances during Brazil’s military dictatorship, but I can say that I remained captivated and invested throughout. Ainda Estou Aqui is a brutal film which tells the true story of Eunice Paiva’s life after her husband is arrested by the Brazilian military. It is based on a memoir written by her son.

Fernanda Torres is magnificent as Eunice Paiva. She gets her big, splashy moments but what I loved most were the quieter ones where she is struggling yet managing to hold herself together.

Ainda Estou Aqui does such a great job of establishing the everyday life of the Paiva family. The children love music, soccer and going to the beach. They conflict with Eunice’s efforts to shield them from what is happening.

The film exposes a beautiful tension between Eunice’s frustration with her husband’s friends as they seek to hide his revolutionary activities from her while she conceals the horrors of her husband’s disappearance from their children.

It is not a narrative film’s job to teach me anything, but I do enjoy the side effect of learning about periods of history from the Oscar quest.

Anora dir. Sean Baker

Anora is a well-made film with a clear story arc that is at its best in the comedic sequences. It was much funnier than I expected and those were the parts I enjoyed the most.

Mikey Madison delivers a spectacular performance as Anora. Her often lightning-quick switch between the bubbly, fun Ani and fierce, independent Anora was a real highlight of the film. She is a real talent who is very memorable.

Call me cynical, but I didn’t think this film contained as much Cinderella optimism as it claims to beyond a brief glimpse into Gatsby-style extravagant indulgence and carelessness. There are sources of tension in the film, but whether Anora is in love isn’t one of them. Instead, I felt we were offered a bleak outlook on the struggle of getting by in this world.

The film felt very devoid of detail at times, not really letting us into Anora’s world that deeply. I wanted to know more about her and while this presented a level of intrigue early in the film, I wasn’t left satisfied by the end.

The Brutalist dir. Brady Corbet

Suffering through all 215 minutes of The Brutalist made me consider implementing a DNF rule for this quest. Ordinarily, I’m absolutely fine with people switching off a movie partway through if it’s not for them. But I’ve believed that in order to review something, you need to consume it in its entirety. The Brutalist really made me question that.

I’ll start with the good: Adrian Brody is a terrific actor. While his peak might be that one episode of Poker Face, he is marvelous in this film and clearly blows Chalamet out of the water. Felicity Jones also demonstrates her value once again, as does Guy Pearce.

I enjoyed the choice to shoot on film. The movie had its moments of visual beauty, particularly the opening sequence of Lazlo arriving in New York. Perhaps those who awarded The Brutalist with Best Cinematography decided that the opening sequence was so good they could ignore the following three hours and twenty minutes of the film.

Overall, The Brutalist is way too long and heavy-handed. It does not delve into nearly enough detail to earn its runtime. It does not trust itself to deliver an understated message so instead resorts to cheap tricks.

Conclave dir. Edward Berger

What I enjoyed most about Conclave was the idea of looking deep into a secret part of the world, the process for electing a new Pope. I greatly relish a film with a unique and distinctive viewpoint.

Conclave boasts a lineup of great acting performances: leading man Ralph Fiennes as Cardinal Lawrence, Stanley Tucci as the people’s champion Cardinal Bellini, John Lithgow as the sniveling Cardinal Tremblay and Isabella Rossellini as the quiet yet firm Sister Agnes.

The film provided great push and pull as the various candidates fought for power against each other. The set evoked an enclosed and fraught setting which only heightened these tensions.

However, for all the various threads that it pulled, it didn’t feel like the ending wove them all back together quite nicely enough.

Dune: Part Two dir. Denis Villeneuve

How did Dune: Part Two fall out of the conversation so quickly? It’s a mystery to me. To be fair, it doesn’t fit the Academy’s usual model in several aspects: it’s a sequel and a science fiction film. But in a lackluster line-up, I thought it would’ve shone much brighter.

Where Dune was solid and impressive, Dune: Part Two is exciting and mesmerising. The first film suffered for only being half of a story. While it looked good and felt promising, I walked away not feeling like it had stuck the landing yet. I needn’t have worried as Dune: Part Two proves that the pieces were there all along.

It’s true both that the movies are better watched as a pair, and of course that the Oscars can only adjudicate them individually.

It’s difficult to highlight a single acting performance from this film. Timothée Chalamet shines as Paul Atreides (much more so than he does as Bob Dylan), Zendaya is great as Chani and Rebecca Ferguson is excellent as Lady Jessica.

But the standout for me is Austin Butler as Feyd-Rautha. Having seen his charismatic performance as Elvis recently, the complete turnaround to become the ruthless Feyd-Rautha is impressive. It’s truly a shame that not a single member of the cast received an acting nomination.

The visuals in Dune, as always, are stunning. What made this installment a step above the first was the choice to shoot the outdoors of ‘black sun’ planet of Giedi Prime in black and white. Usually a hater of black and white visuals in the colour era, I absolutely loved this choice. It made the scenes on Giedi Prime sharp, raw and biting and well-matched the House Harkonnen.

Emilia Pérez dir. Jacques Audiard

The fact that Emilia Pérez received 13 nominations is an indictment on all 9,000+ voting members of the Academy. It is one of the worst movies I have ever seen, let alone one of the worst amongst serious Oscar contenders.

Probably the nicest thing I can think to say about Emilia Pérez is that it takes bold swings. It’s just a shame that none of those bold swings pay off at all.

The music is some of the worst I’ve ever heard. The whisper-speak style of singing present throughout the film is awful. Several of the songs are simply just lists of things. They are not interesting musically or lyrically.

One thing that the film does do well is it sets up clear motivations for its leading ladies. Both Emilia (Karla Sofía Gascón) and Rita (Zoe Saldaña) are the driving force of the film. However, the film is deeply confused about who the protagonist is. It basically forgets about what Rita wants in the second half.

Jacques Audiard’s terrible direction reveals itself everywhere in the film: the lackluster performances from across the cast, the confused script and the awful writing. Perhaps the worst offender is the continued choice to signify location changes using onscreen text followed by a boring interior soundstage shot completely void of a sense of place. The decision to tell a story across so many different countries should be a strength of the film. Instead, it barely feels like we are anywhere at all.

Emilia Pérez is not worth watching, not even for the meme value or to be part of the conversation.

Nickel Boys dir. RaMell Ross

It is a crime that Amazon bought Nickel Boys then proceeded to stick it on their platform without seemingly telling anyone about it.

Nickel Boys is an emotionally poignant and visually beautiful film from RaMell Ross in his narrative feature debut. Perhaps it is Ross’ documentary background which gives this film so much life.

By far the highlight of Nickel Boys is its distinctive choice to shoot in a first-person point-of-view. Jomo Fray’s bold and breathtaking cinematography is some of the absolute best from this line-up of contenders, rivaled only by the epicness of Dune: Part Two. It is an incredible shame it wasn’t even nominated in the category. It takes ordinary things like trees, streets and buildings and finds the most interesting and light-filled angles.

Ethan Herisse and Brandon Wilson, each only delivering their third performance in a film, are excellent in their leading roles as friends Elwood and Turner.

Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor follows up her Oscar-nominated appearance in King Richard from a few years ago with another captivating performance. It’s impossible not to feel something when she is onscreen.

Most of all, Nickel Boys enters a well-established canon of prison-focused films, such as The Shawshank Redemption and Holes, yet unlike some Oscar contenders’ reluctance to test a tried and true formula, it has something to say. Namely, it shines a light on the unfair and unjust treatment of African American boys in 1960s Florida.

The Substance dir. Coralie Fargeat

Review by Leah Anderson

I’m of two minds about the presence of The Substance on the Best Picture nominees list. On one hand, it’s great to see a genre film make the cut, especially one so unabashedly gory and strange. It’s even better to see a horror film on the list, as The Substance is one of only seven Best Picture horror nominees in 97 years.

On the other hand, I never really clicked with The Substance. I found the film itself overly long and, frankly, substanceless.

The runtime for The Substance is two hours and twenty minutes. With a film of that length you would expect a nuanced analysis of gender roles and beauty standards, but the film is painted in only the broadest strokes.

The central theme of The Substance is that relentless beauty standards push people in Hollywood towards dangerous cosmetic procedures. That theme is too insubstantial for a runtime of this length.

It feels like a short film stretched out to a movie that is already long by most standards. The start is slow and takes almost an hour to reveal itself as a gory gangbusters dark comedy. By the fourth fake out ending an audience member shouted, ‘Just wrap it up already!’ I couldn’t have agreed more.

Despite this, there is a lot to enjoy. Demi Moore turns in a Best Actress worthy performance from start to finish. Her work is only bolstered by Margaret Qualley’s spectacular turn as a younger, better Moore.

The colour palette for this film is beautiful and it compliments the bold, distinctive cinematography. The practical effects are beyond words, I couldn’t believe how great everything looked. The audience was gasping, groaning, and even gagging by the twenty-minute mark and the film never lets up.

I just wish that these visuals and performances belonged to a film with more to say.

Wicked dir. Jon M. Chu

Adapting a much beloved musical for the screen was always going to be a daunting task, but Jon M. Chu’s decision to split one two and a half hour musical into two very long films confuses me on principle.

Sticking to the first act of the musical, Wicked lasts one hour longer without adding any new songs or plot points. Instead, that extra hour seems to come from dramatic pauses and characters staring at each other across the room.

The hype for Ariana Grande is real, although the revelation that a funny Glinda is the best Glinda was not as surprising to me given I’d seen Australia’s Courtney Monsma shortly beforehand. She gave the standout performance, although it was as much of a supporting performance as Saldaña’s (read: complete category fraud).

Cynthia Erivo as Elphaba and Jonathan Bailey as Fiyero also give excellent performances. Given the reverence of the original Broadway cast and many replacements since, the casting for the film adaptation has done a fantastic job of living up to the expectations of Wicked.

In some ways, Wicked is very visually interesting. Paul Tazewell’s costume design is new and innovative, with a particular highlight being Glinda’s pink and orange petal dress in the Ozdust ballroom sequence of ‘Dancing Through Life’.

However, so much of the beautiful set is badly and dimly lit leaving things feeling rather dull. Sequences that appear to draw on the fantastical nature of Oz instead feel overly fake and bleak.

Despite Erivo’s fantastic vocals, the Marvelification of showstopping nunber ‘Defying Gravity’ was disappointing to see. There’s no reason that song needed to be drawn out and yet the climax of the film takes forever to resolve.

Ranking

As you may have gathered by now, I didn’t feel especially enthusiastic about this year’s crop of films. It’s always a mixed bag, but usually there are a solid handful which change my life.

Here’s my ranking (minus The Substance):

1. Dune: Part Two dir. Denis Villeneuve

2. Nickel Boys dir. RaMell Ross

3. Ainda Estou Aqui (I’m Still Here) dir. Walter Salles

4. Conclave dir. Edward Berger

5. Anora dir. Sean Baker

6. Wicked dir. Jon M. Chu

7. A Complete Unknown dir. James Mangold

8. The Brutalist dir. Brady Corbet

9. Emilia Pérez dir. Jacques Audiard

I’m looking forward to a more interesting lineup in 2026.

The 97th Academy Awards ceremony took place on 3 March 2025. Anora won Best Picture.

The third entry in the Benoit Blanc trilogy, following Knives Out and Glass Onion, it is perhaps the most heartfelt of the trio. While most of the movie delivers on the fun murder mystery romp that makes the first two a success, it is the rare but truly deserved moments of emotional gut punch that make Wake Up Dead Man such a winner.

Josh O’Connor stars as former boxer turned priest Jud Duplenticy as he is sent to work at a new church under the guidance of Monsignor Wicks (Josh Brolin). It is a wild ride trying to make sense of our new protagonist and deduce whether we can trust what he says. O’Connor’s infectious charisma lends itself perfectly to the role of Jud.

Daniel Craig is excellent as ever as Benoit Blanc. I truly hope that he will continue to reprise the role for as long as he and Johnson wish to make these films. He could be easily dropped into any setting for a brilliant story.

Once again, director-writer Rian Johnson has struck the perfect balance of paying homage to the classics of the murder mystery genre while also finding something new to say. Wake Up Dead Man does not seek to shy away from its influences, literally displaying a recommended reading list of murder mystery novels at one point in the film, and does an excellent job of bringing them into the twenty-first century. Johnson has never been afraid of situating his work in the present day, this time featuring knock-out jokes about Substack and election campaigns.

For how considered this film is, you might be worried that Johnson has chosen the serious path over the laughs of the previous movies in the series. Never fear: amongst the emotions of Wake Up Dead Man, the film still contains many genuine laugh out loud moments.

The gothic sensibility that was present in the first two films remains strong in Wake Up Dead Man. All three films have explored the obsessive and isolated notion of a house which contains as many quirks and secrets as any of the human characters in the story. In this entry, it is the church itself, a gloomy figure which haunts the entire narrative.

Wake Up Dead Man has the strongest cinematography of the three films. It is a truly beautiful film in a visual sense. I am especially glad that I made the effort of catching it during its limited cinematic release window. Johnson and cinematographer Steve Yedlin have composed this film shot by shot with an extreme sense of care. It does not give the impression of a cost-cutting direct-to-streaming movie that slapped a bunch of close-ups together; instead, it presents itself as a carefully considered visual feast.

Paired well with Yedlin’s cinematography, the film is wonderfully lit by Jaron Presant. These efforts are especially well appreciated given the metaphorical resonance of light within Christianity. In a similar vein to Glass Onion, there is one particularly brilliant moment on the edge of the forest during the climax of the film where lighting is used to evoke a hauntingly beautiful and creepy tone.

I am sure I am not alone in the fact that I have spent a large part of my life asking questions about the place and value of religion in society. The decision to make a murder mystery movie about religion feels almost natural when you consider the centrality of the question of death in both of those canons. Wake Up Dead Man is both critical and encouraging of Christianity in different moments. It presents a deeply complicated and moving picture of all that Christianity encompasses. Wake Up Dead Man does not pretend to know the answers to these gigantic questions, but acknowledges the importance and necessity of asking them anyway.

Potentially the only criticism of Wake Up Dead Man is that several of its ensemble characters do not have as much importance as in previous Benoit Blanc entries. The film is more focused on those directly involved in running the church as opposed to the litany of church-goers. Mila Kunis’ run-of-the-mill local detective character does not add much to Blanc’s efforts.

Rating: Highly recommend

Film: Wake Up Dead Man
Director: Rian Johnson
Writer: Rian Johnson
Starring: Daniel Craig (Benoit Blanc), Josh O’Connor (Reverend Jud Duplenticy), Glenn Close (Martha Delacroix), Josh Brolin (Monsignor Jefferson Wicks), Mila Kunis (Geraldine Scott), Jeremy Renner (Dr Nat Sharp), Kerry Washington (Vera Draven), Andrew Scott (Lee Ross), Cailee Spaeny (Simone Vivane), Daryl McCormack (Cy Draven), Thomas Haden Church (Samson Holt) and Jeffrey Wright (Langstrom)
Release Date: 12 December 2025
Distributor: Netflix

Much Ado About Nothing follows two pairs of lovers: Beatrice and Benedick, who are engaged in a war of wits so annoying that their friends decide to trick them into falling in love, and Claudio and Hero, whose engagement falls victim to a war between brothers Don Pedro and Don John. A third plotline follows the plucky neighbourhood watch whose grand ambitions and good intentions are often thwarted by their overwhelming lack of intellect. All three storylines are woven together into a tale of love, deception and pride.

I was very excited to learn that Melbourne Theatre Company decided to stage a new production of Much Ado About Nothing (their first in 30 years), directed by Mark Wilson.

Alison Bell as Beatrice and Fayssal Bazzi as Benedick are absolutely outstanding. Their performances, when they appear together or apart, are magnificent.

Alison Bell is marvellous as Beatrice. She does a wonderful job of capturing Beatrice’s self-assuredness and confidence while still oozing charm and love as well. If only Shakespeare had given her a few more opportunities to shine, as she demonstrated exactly what she is capable of while expressing Beatrice’s fury after the wedding.

Fayssal Bazzi delivers the best performance of Benedick I have ever seen on a stage (and I would include David Tenant in National Theatre’s 2011 production in that as well). He reminds us that Benedick is best not only when he is bold, arrogant and too cocky for his own good but also when he follows Beatrice around like a puppy dog who morphs into even more of an enthusiastic yet pathetic golden retriever after his gulling.

In this iteration, the famous song ‘Sigh No More’, originally performed by the character Balthasar who has been omitted from this production, is instead given to Miela Anich’s Hero. One of Shakespeare’s biggest failings in this show is how little Hero speaks despite the fact that she is the emotional core of the play and the igniting spark of its events. While this version of ‘Sigh No More’ offers little melodically, it is a wonderful and meaningful change that enlivens the themes of the play. While her cousin Beatrice will complain loudly about the folly of men to whoever is in earshot, Hero sings about it to herself on an empty stage, almost like a lament. The contrast between the two cousins is evident despite the fact they share the same struggles as women in a man’s world.

Julie Forsyth delivers a standout performance from amongst the rest of the ensemble, showcasing a wealth of talent and great comedic instincts across the roles of Ursula, Dogberry and Friar Francis.

However, I remain sceptical of any company that proposes to perform Much Ado with less than ten actors. For this production, the full extent of The Sumner Theatre was on display including the wings and the belly of the stage. While I enjoyed this idea conceptually—the audience are reminded of their role watching the play—it meant that the eight actors were presented with the impossible task of filling the space. They could not create the joyous atmosphere of the party scene. So much of the play revolves around overheard conversations and rumours yet the stage felt constantly bare. I did appreciate the Pamela Anderson eyes of the set, a 1984-esque reminder that someone is always watching and listening.

The choice of a smaller cast necessitates doubling of roles which I do not think works with the play’s themes. While I am usually a big fan of gender bending in Shakespeare, I think Much Ado presents a very challenging site for such an approach given that the play is deeply rooted in its exploration and critique of traditional gender roles. The casting of a female actor to play Don John—a self-professed plain villain who seeks to destroy his brother’s life who does not care about the assortment of women getting caught in the crossfire—falls flat.

It also means that several characters remain absent from important scenes. The character of Margaret may not always be present during the wedding scene as she has no lines, but often the audience is able to observe as she comes to the silent realisation of her role in Don John’s deception. Her absence robs the play of the nuance that makes it interesting. Margaret was also missing from the gulling of Beatrice.

Several of these choices mean that Melbourne Theatre Company’s production of Much Ado About Nothing does not sing as joyously as it could. Nevertheless, it is a deeply funny, well-performed and touching production of Shakespeare’s classic.

Rating: Recommend

Play: Much Ado About Nothing
Writer: William Shakespeare
Director: Mark Wilson
Starring: Miela Anich (Hero/Borachio/Ensemble), Fayssal Bazzi (Benedick), Alison Bell (Beatrice), Syd Brisbane (Leonato/Ensemble), Julie Forsyth (Ursula/Dogberry/Ensemble), Remy Heremaia (Claudio/Ensemble), Chanella Macri (Margaret/Bastard/Ensemble) and John Shearman (Prince/Ensemble)
Dates and venue: The Sumner at Southbank Theatre until 20 December 2025

It’s the first game of the 2025 season. Carlton are playing Collingwood in tribute to the very first game of AFLW in 2017 which was so well-attended that the gates at Princes Park had to be locked because the ground was full.

Ten seasons later, here we are again. All eyes are on Ashley Centra because she was selected by Collingwood as the #1 pick in the 2024 draft. 

Centra is easy to spot even though she began the game on the bench. She is one of only two Collingwood players to opt for the long-sleeve jersey in the cold August night, the black and white stripes snaking around her arms. 

On one hand, it seems strange to celebrate a player for merely running onto the field. Centra hasn’t done anything yet. She hasn’t even touched the ball.

But on the other hand, Centra running out onto the field marks an ending just as much as a beginning. It signals the end of her journey to play football at a national level. She’s officially made it.

Asked of her debut after the game, Collingwood coach Sam Wright remarked of Centra: 

'She's got like a cult following. Every time she got near the ball, whether she got it or not, you could hear the crowd get up and about. I just think it’s so great for our game.’

After a promising first quarter fizzled out into a disappointing loss, Centra kicked the only goal for Collingwood in the remaining three quarters of the game. She joined the exclusive first kick, first goal club. It seemed to say: Pies fans, don’t despair. The future is bright. 

collingwoodaflw

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From the stands to the field

Over on the other team’s bench sat another remarkable debutant: Sophie McKay, daughter of Carlton champion Andrew McKay and sister of current Carlton captain Abbie McKay. 

What once more seems like the beginning of a story is also an ending. 

As children, Abbie and Sophie McKay rang the bell at that first AFLW game in 2017 to commemorate the first ever game of women’s football. Sophie was ten years old.

aflwomens

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Now, nine years and ten seasons later, the sisters have shifted from the stands to the field.

They run out alongside each other as the fireworks sparkle in the night sky above them and the song their dad used to sing blares from the speakers.

He watches from the stands of Princes Park alongside their brother, who wears both his sisters’ numbers on his back. Abbie wears #5 in honour of their dad, Sophie wears #55 in honour of them both and their brother wears #555 in honour of them all.

The story starts and ends in so many different points across history depending on how you decide to tell it.  

Is this the end or the beginning?

2025 marks the tenth season of the AFLW. 

But it still feels like we are in the beginning. We are only at the beginning of a new generation of girls who have been able to play football their whole lives. We are slowly watching the barriers dissolve one by one.

History is being made out on that field with every single game. 

I’m proud to say I was swamped by that massive crowd at Carlton v Collingwood in the first season and in the stands for the tenth. There were four players on the ground for both games: Brit Bonnici, Breann Harrington, Ruby Schleicher and Darcy Vescio.

There were five debutants on the ground in the tenth season: Ash Centra, Kellyann Hogan, Sophie McKay, Poppy Scholz and Violet Patterson.

Each debut of a new player in the AFLW feels especially exciting because that new energy is reflective of the competition as a whole. It was a long journey to get here. We will cheer as loudly as we want. But this is not the end yet. This is the beginning.

I hadn’t cried about my thesis until that afternoon. I had certainly felt annoyed and stressed about it at times over the two years I’d been writing it, but I’d lasted a whopping 713 days without crying over it. 

At first, I dismissed it. I figured it was just a bad day. I took it easy for the evening. It wasn’t until a few days later, when I still couldn’t shake the feeling, that I knew something was seriously wrong. 

Academic failure 

I grew up in a culture that valued academic perfection above everything else. There were two sorts of results: 100% (success) and anything else (room for improvement). 

A common joke in my community was: ‘What do you call a B+? An Asian fail!’

Because it takes a lot of work to achieve perfection, I started attending tutoring classes in addition to school when I was still a child. By the time I was seventeen, I’d done multiple years of North Shore and James An and private tutoring for English, Maths, Japanese and French. 

By the time I got to the end of Year 12, I’d given up on the hope of getting a good ATAR. I knew I couldn’t live up to those impossible standards anymore. 

I decided I would be happy enough as long as I got an ATAR which would get me into the university course of my choice: Arts/Law at ANU. 

That is exactly what happened. By the standards of those around me, my ATAR was deeply average and nothing to brag about. It was not a 99.95; it was a failure. There had still been room for improvement. And I had not improved. 

But it got me into ANU. Good enough. Unfortunately I must be a glutton for punishment because even though I had full choice over where I ended up after high school, I picked a college full of geniuses. 

I loved ANU and I was very proud of my extra-curricular achievements there but never really of my studies.  

The crash out

Fast forward to the great thesis crash out of 2025: I felt completely immobilised by the voices in my head reminding me of my failures during high school and undergrad and that it was silly to imagine that my Master’s degree would be any different. Essentially, I felt crushed by the realisation that I was immensely stupid. 

I wrote about it in my diary:

I got stuck on the fact that I am stupid, I’ve never been happy with any major academic result I’ve ever received and I’m being naive for thinking that this is going to turn out any differently. And it was kind of hard to convince myself of anything else. 

I tried so many things to snap out of it. I tried to combat it with truth: I got accepted into university. I did well in some areas. I hadn’t encountered any issues during my Master’s degree. If I was too stupid for it, someone would’ve told me by now. 

None of it worked. I had around two weeks left before my submission date. I knew I needed to quell this distraction as fast as possible so I could get back to work. 

Radical acceptance

As a last resort, I tried something called ‘radical acceptance’. I knew it could only be a bandaid solution but I was getting desperate. 

I accepted the bad thoughts. I said to myself: I’m right. I am stupid. I am probably going to get a bad grade on this thesis. But all there is left to do right now is put my head down and do the best that I can. And what will be, will be. 

It worked. I was able to finish my thesis. I submitted it a day early. 

Long term thinking

As I suspected, it was only a short term solution. Despite my hopes, the horrible feeling came back right after I’d submitted and I was forced to start unpacking it for real. 

Was I a stupid person? Had I ever been smart? Did being smart matter? Why did it matter so much to me? Is it even possible to be smart in the arts?

It was like living with a highlight reel of all the negative things people had said to me: an English literature degree is a total waste of time. I am a bad writer. I’m not doing the right things to pursue my dreams.

Trying

I tried so many things to snap out of it. Some helped. 

I threw a party to celebrate my thesis submission (co-hosted with my lovely thesis-partner-in-crime Leah). 

I went on an overseas holiday with my family. 

I went to pet cute animals with friends.

I told myself what was happening was very normal. I read a lot of online graduate student support forums. They helped sometimes. They helped me know I wasn’t alone in what I was feeling.

It’s not like I’ve never had a creative-related mental breakdown before. I once made the bone-headed decision of watching Tick, Tick… Boom! in the middle of writing the first draft of a book in one month (the movie is about Jonathan Larson writing a musical) in my mid-twenties right before my birthday (the movie is about Larson being depressed about turning thirty) while I had a heart condition (Larson died of heart failure before seeing Rent debut on Broadway). Needless to say that did not end well (however I can highly recommend the movie).

Writing

I hate the long term solution almost as much as the short term one. 

The thing that finally snapped me out of it was starting to write again. 

I find this annoying because I didn’t want work to be the solution. But it’s the truth, in the end. The solution was to keep doing what I was already doing. 

As I began to write again, I felt good about myself once more. I enjoyed writing. I knew I had at least some skill. I knew this because writing is at least a little bit easier than it used to be. Hence, I must have learnt something along the way.

After such a long time focusing on the one project, it felt nice to try new things and be creative again. I started several short essays in March. I’ve finished a couple already. They are a completely different kind of writing compared to what I did for my thesis. 

The result

I got my thesis grade back on a random Wednesday. For the first time ever in my academic career, I got a mark I was happy with. I got what I was hoping for.

There was still a voice in the back of my head which told me it wasn’t 100%. 

I told that voice to shut up. 

While I did plan to take some time off writing for Overthinker last year, I did not expect to be gone for quite so long! I was very proud of sticking to a regular writing and publishing schedule, but unfortunately I got too overwhelmed and needed a much longer break than I expected. 

Overthinker in 2025

I have no plans to end Overthinker. I’m still very proud of this blog and it’s important to me that I have a space for writing on my own terms. I’ve written so many weird pieces for Overthinker that I would never have tried to pitch traditionally.

However, as I have a bit too much going on in my creative career right now (wild!), I clearly need to make some changes. 

While I believe that having a publishing schedule for Overthinker in the past was very helpful in encouraging myself to write regularly, it’s become evident that it’s no longer working for me. 

Moving forward, I will write and publish here whenever there’s something I want to write about. 

As a result of this, I have turned off the paid filter on the ‘Insiders’ section of Overthinker. 

I have decided to keep the option to be a paid subscriber of Overthinker. Given that ‘Insiders’ is now available to be read by everyone, there will not be any additional benefits to being a paid subscriber. 

Instead, if you choose to be a paid subscriber, please know that you are supporting my writing career as a whole. I have a few ongoing expenses, such as paying for my portfolio website (both the domain and the design), competition entry fees and attending workshops, events and talks. Even though my income stream from Overthinker is small, it really helps!

I am so exceptionally grateful to everyone who has been a paid subscriber to Overthinker at any point over the last two years. Especially those who stuck around even though I wasn’t publishing anything. Thank you very much if you ever contributed! 

What I’ve been up to

As soon as I reflected on what I’ve been up to since I last wrote for Overthinker, it became very clear to me how I allowed this blog to slip off my to do list. 

I covered the AFLW for Hawks Insiders. 

I made my return to acting in my university’s production of Macbeth. 

I went to Europe on a holiday where I saw eleven shows. 

My short play Strangers was performed at the National Theatre of Parramatta as part of the Slanted Theatre New Year showcase. 

Most significantly, I finished and submitted the thesis for my Master’s degree. 

I finished another round of revisions on Song of the Summer and am finally out querying it again. 

At least I was productive on my break!

What’s next

In the past, I’ve set creative goals one year at a time. This year has felt a bit disjointed since submitting my thesis in February, so instead I’ve been setting my writing goals month by month. 

It’s been working really well! If you’re interested in the nitty gritty of what I’m currently working on, you can follow along on my Instagram stories and my Tiktok. 

This blog will continue to be a home for my in-depth thoughts about what I’m writing, reading and watching.

Up next will be a piece about the major crash out I had right before my thesis was due (super fun!). 

Stay tuned.

Throughout Macbeth, I’ve felt really grateful that Lady Macduff has so much depth to her. While she might be a small role, she’s a complicated person with big feelings and she has a direct impact on the events of the play. The story wouldn’t be the same without her.

She’s definitely an upgrade from some of the roles I had in high school theatre. She has a name and a backstory. She even has a Wikipedia page! That’s pretty cool.

But as much as I love Lady Macduff, she was not on my list of dream roles. 

Most actors have a list of dream roles in their head: the kinds of roles that you would be so lucky to get to play in your lifetime. Maybe it’s a famous role, it’s got an iconic song, it’s from your favourite play or it just feels like a role you were born to play.

I used to dislike this question—I can’t think of many roles made for a Vietnamese Australian actress, so the ‘born to play’ aspect has never felt possible to me—but the joy I have felt returning to acting this year has given me the confidence to dream a little bigger than I have in the past. While none of the roles on this list were specifically written for Asian women, I don't think it's a coincidence that a lot of them have been played by Asian women.

I have crafted this list with a semi-delusional mindset. I’ve left off the roles I could never play (e.g. Simba in The Lion King) and roles I definitely could never sing (e.g. Belle in Beauty and the Beast). But if I could see myself maybe getting there one day, I’ve included it. They’re called ‘dream roles’, after all! I reckon I can be a little bit out there.

Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing

Much Ado About Nothing is a comedy by William Shakespeare which follows two romantic pairings subject to tricks and rumours: Claudio is tricked into believing that Hero has been unfaithful and enemies Beatrice and Benedick are tricked into believing that the other secretly loves them. All this is observed by the plucky and weird neighbourhood watch who might just save the day.

Much Ado About Nothing505 is my favourite Shakespeare play and potentially my favourite play of all time. I'd happily be a servant in this play. But, if I'm dreaming, then I'd love to play Beatrice. She's bold, brash, unapologetic, witty and funny. She'd be so much fun to bring to life.0505555550555055516055

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Memoir of a Snail dir. Adam Elliot

In 1970s Australia, Grace’s life is troubled by misfortune and loss. After their mother dies during pregnancy, she and her twin brother, Gilbert, are raised by their paraplegic-alcoholic former juggler father, Percy. Despite a life filled with love, tragedy strikes anew when Percy passes away in his sleep. The siblings are forcibly separated and thrust into homes on the opposite sides of the country.

It was wonderful to see not only an Australian film but a Melburnian film on the opening night of MIFF. Memoir of a Snail is a stop motion animation film from Australian director Adam Elliot and starring the voice of Succession’s Sarah Snook as Grace.

Memoir of a Snail follows a predictable but still very enjoyable coming of age arc as Grace tries to move on from her tragic childhood and become an independent adult. While the tone veered too melodramatic at times, eventually it tugged on the right heartstrings. Plus, it was great to see an Australian film acknowledge the existence of Canberra. 

The 2025 Oscars are still very far away, but it’s exciting to see this Australian movie on Variety’s radar at the very least.

Julie Keeps Quiet dir. Leonardo Van Dijl

As the star player at an elite tennis academy, Julie’s life revolves around the game she loves. When her coach falls under investigation and is suddenly suspended, all of the club’s players are encouraged to speak up. But Julie decides to keep quiet.

There will definitely be a crowd of people who call this movie too slow. If you can’t stand a movie where the plot doesn't advance every five minutes or you find yourself guilty of checking your phone in the cinema, then this one definitely isn’t for you. I, however, who sat through all three hours of Drive My Car, thought that the slowness of this movie was haunting and earned.

Why do we expect so much of victims and not perpetrators? Why should they have such lofty expectations to save the day put on their shoulders instead of the people who should have been protecting them?

This Belgian French- and Flemish-language film (with an extra sprinkling of German just to keep you on your toes) reveals a sophisticated style from debut director Leonardo Van Dijl. Tessa Van den Broeck delivers a brilliant breakout performance as Julie. While the majority of the movie is quiet, as the title suggests, the well-timed choral music from Caroline Shaw is excellent too.

I would absolutely love to see this in contention for the Oscars and it’s frustrating that it’s going to be better than half the movies nominated.

Fungi: Web of Life dir. Gisela Kaufmann and Joseph Nizeti

Much of life on Earth is connected by a vast, hidden network that we are only just beginning to understand. Out of sight, between the world of plants and animals, another world exists—the kingdom of fungi.

Fungi: Web of Life is a 45-minute three-dimensional documentary film which tells the story of the world’s fungi narrated by Icelandic singer-songwriter Björk. While it might sound like an eclectic recipe for a film, the result is a stunning and beautiful production.

The absolute marvel of this film are the various time lapses of growing fungi shot by Stephen Axford, Patrick Hickey and Wim van Egmond. What might only be a few centimetres tall in real life has been expanded into incredibly tall IMAX vision.

In Vitro dir. Will Howarth and Tom McKeith

On an isolated cattle farm, a couple experimenting with biotechnology have their lives upended when they discover a disturbing presence on their property.

In Vitro feels like an Australian take on a missing episode of Black Mirror and I loved it. Sure, it was messy and some parts of the plot might fall apart if you think about them too much, but it had the guts to ask some big questions and I enjoyed it.

There’s much to love about Shelley Farthing-Dawe’s great cinematography of the isolated Australian bushland and the impressive industrialist design of the near-future farm.

Those who are faint of heart, like me, do be warned that this thriller does borrow some conventions from the horror genre and veers into actual scary territory as opposed to simply having general spooky atmospheric vibes. Maybe watch it with the lights on instead of late on a Thursday night in a pitch-black cinema (although I did enjoy listening to other people’s gasps).

COPA 71 dir. James Erskine and Rachel Ramsay

The extraordinary story of the 1971 Women’s World Cup, which was held in Mexico City and witnessed by more than 100,000 fans. This landmark tournament was dismissed by FIFA and written out of sports history—until now, with dazzling archival footage and interviews with the former players.

I’ll happily admit it: I cried watching COPA 71. Women over history have fought so many hard, pointless battles to simply play sport. Women’s football used to be illegal in many countries, including England where it was banned until as recently as 1970.

Directors Erskine and Ramsay have done a fantastic job of tracking down many of the key players from the ‘unofficial’ World Cup in 1971 as they give terrific interviews recounting their experience of the tournament. The emotions on display are real, raw and truly remarkable.

COPA 71 is a brilliant rebuttal to all the recurring arguments we see against women's sport: it’s not profitable and nobody watches it. Those of us who actually care about women’s sport know that this has never been the issue and that the real problem is men with power who are unwilling to share it. COPA 71 does not shy away from sharing the foul things that they have said and continue to say today as they block women’s sport from success.

The Melbourne International Film Festival will return in August 2025.

I told him that while it looked fun—I’d seen Free Solo and was in awe of climbing—surely he remembered that I was a deeply unathletic person and I’d be really bad at it. He brushed my concerns aside and said that didn’t matter. 

That was how I had a brief rock climbing phase in between the various lockdowns of 2020 and 2021. I’d drive out to Blochaus in Fyshwick, give the walls a go and try to gleam some strategy off my more experienced friends. 

I was right: I was completely rubbish. I had a really bad fall during my first visit and scraped both my forearms. But I kept coming back. 

What Free Solo had shown me and what my friend had described in between drinks at that party had been true: climbing was wonderful. 

Paris 2024

In the lead up to the Paris 2024 Olympics, the event I was most excited to watch was sport climbing. 

Sure, there were other exciting things on the schedule: cheer for the Aussie women in the pool. Catch Jessica Fox in the canoe slalom. Watch Simone Biles dominate in gymnastics. See if they’d really make the triathletes swim in the Seine. But the sport that had dazzled me the most in Tokyo was sport climbing so it sat at the top of my list.

I watched every single second of the sport climbing in Paris: the men’s and women’s; the heats, semi-finals, finals; the speed, bouldering and lead.

I got particularly lucky with the time zones: the climbing was on every evening from around 6 to 9pm across Monday to Saturday in the last week of the games.

Paris 2024 was particularly special because Australia’s Oceana Mackenzie made it through to the final eight climbers after finishing 19th out of 20 in Tokyo. Seeded 10th in Paris, her 7th-place finish in the final showed that she was really punching above her weight. 

Why climbing?

I think the answer to this question harks back to what attracted me to Blochaus in the first place. What made me return after that painful fall. 

Climbing is a full body sport that requires strength in your arms, legs, core and mind. Even though it looks like an upper body sport—aren’t they pulling themselves up the wall?—as soon as you try it for yourself, you realise how much strength you need in your entire body. It’s a challenge that requires a whole range of skills including flexibility, agility and explosiveness. 

But the thing that always brings me back to climbing is the strategy. 

I will never flourish in a sport based on physical ability. My crowning glory in sports comes from finishing third-last in a biathlon when I was thirteen. I couldn’t believe I’d beat not just one, but two whole people. 

Bouldering requires thinking. Just being strong will never get you to the top. You need to be able to analyse the holds and envision the route in your head. You need to know how to play your own strengths and weaknesses. 

This is what elevates sport climbing for me. It requires the athletes to be fast on their feet at problem solving. In both the bouldering and lead disciplines, no two routes are ever the same. The athletes can’t watch each other compete so they don’t know how their competitors are approaching the route. It’s just you and the wall. 

The fear of falling

In Free Solo, the directors try to figure out why Alex Honnold isn’t afraid of falling and eventually, thanks to an MRI scan of his brain, find out that there is little or no activity in his amygdala in response to fear-inducing scenarios.

Watching the climbers compete in the lead climbing at Paris left me truly awestruck. They climb a 15-metre high wall—approximately the equivalent of a five-storey building—clipping themselves in as they go. 

The only way is up. If they miss a hold, they will fall. 

Across the entire lead competition in Paris, every single competitor fell. Nobody made it to the top. Several got close: Japan’s Ai Mori got one hold away in both the semi-final and the final and Slovenia’s Janja Garnbret got one hold away in the semi-final before her eventual gold medal win.

But every athlete felt that terrifying moment when their hand slipped unexpectedly and they entered free fall before the rope caught them. 

I struggled with this a lot when I was climbing. I didn’t understand how I could put so much faith in myself to land a leap. The sting of my most recent fall always played heavily on my mind. I felt so much respect for the Olympic climbers.

LA 2028

Like most of my sporty endeavours, I lost interest in climbing eventually. I drove out to Fyshwick for the last time without even realising it. 

But I think my love of watching sport climbing is here to stay. I’m grateful for my brief flirtation with the sport because, ultimately, I think that’s what drew me to watch it: I tried it. I understand it. I know how hard it is. 

I’m looking forward to LA 2028 already (and I’m hopeful that they’ll separate bouldering and lead climbing to add at least one more climbing medal) but I plan on watching as much as I can before then, too. 

The next major climbing tournament is the International Federation of Sport Climbing European Championships which will be streaming on their YouTube channel from 24 August 2024. Free Solo is streaming on Disney+.

This year has marked a bit of an unusual situation: while the rest of the world spent the last week of July fully enjoying the beginning of the Olympics, I was furiously finishing the rewrite of my book. 

But of course, as a sports fanatic, I couldn’t resist getting a taste of the Olympics in between my big writing sessions. The big ticket event during the first week was obvious: the swimming.

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One of the reasons I landed on my current preferred descriptor of ‘artist and writer’ instead of just ‘writer’ is to help encompass all the different things I do. ‘Artist’ allows me to work on other photography, film and theatre projects from time to time under the same identity.

But I’ve had many moments where I wonder if this is the best way to do it.

Jack of all trades, master of none

The disadvantage of having so many creative interests is that I often feel like a jack of all trades, master of none. I’m spreading myself widely, but thinly.

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This Preliminary Final has led to a personal revelation: it doesn’t matter how much I cheer for Hawthorn, how many games I attend, how much I pray for success, there’s nothing I can do that will have any impact on whether they win or lose. While seemingly obvious, realising this stuns me. All the screaming and crying, the tears and the shouts, mean absolutely nothing. I can’t keep giving them my all only to walk away disappointed.

SINCE UPSETTING THEM to win the 2008 Grand Final, we have lost eleven games in a row to Geelong. Nine of those are by less than ten points, five by less than a goal and two by a kick after the siren, bringing them another last-minute victory and stabbing a knife right through my heart. It is improbable that we can’t scrape a single victory. We play at least twice every year and on each meeting I watch in slow-motion as we fall apart and Geelong find a way to vanquish us.

Given no real world reason for our failure, we turn to folklore for an explanation. After we shock every pundit and beat favourites Geelong in 2008, our president Jeff Kennett gives an impassioned speech where he backs Hawthorn unequivocally:

‘What they don’t have, I think, is the quality of some of our players; they don’t have the psychological drive we have. We’ve beaten Geelong when it matters.’

The Geelong players take Jeff’s words to heart. They decide that no matter what, they will never lose to Hawthorn again and the Kennett Curse is born. Even when the betting companies run the numbers and declare that Hawthorn should win, Geelong find a way to make the impossible possible.

IN 2012, HAWTHORN are on fire. We finish the home and away season on top of the ladder.

All I want is to see a Hawthorn premiership in person. My dad hasn’t seen one either, despite Hawthorn’s massive success in his lifetime, having spent most of his younger years putting in his hours at the hospital.

When Geelong are knocked out by Fremantle in the first week of finals, I breathe a sigh of relief. They can’t make us stray from the path. We get through to the Grand Final. This is our year. I am certain. My dad and I’s dream will come true.

We lose to Sydney by ten points.

My dad and I are silent in the car on the drive home.

In the driveway, scarf still around my neck, he says to me, ‘Jules, I’m still really happy we got to go. Thanks for coming with me.’

I’m much less gracious. I’m trying hard not to cry. All I can think about is that Hawthorn worked so hard the whole year to get to the Grand Final, that winning a flag is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and they are going to have to start all over again the next year. The dream is dead.

BUT THE OFF-SEASON is five months long and I manage to pick myself up from the ground and dust off my dream. In the first round of 2013, we lose to Geelong for the tenth time. I keep my usual eye on them all season, willing them to lose games, but they match our pace the whole season.

With one, singular exception: Brisbane.

Brisbane are woeful. They are not having a good season. They will not play finals. Ash McGrath is playing his 200th game but it will not be a celebration. They are down 52 points against Geelong in the third quarter. They have never come back to win from a deficit that large.

When I look up the score afterwards, my jaw drops when I find out that Brisbane has won by five points. I scramble to find footage of the last two minutes of the game to piece the story together.

The video gives me endless reasons why Brisbane shouldn’t win. Geelong forward Tom Hawkins kicks the most unconvincing behind with 55 seconds left to put Geelong in front by one point. Brisbane try to push forward, but Geelong defender Josh Hunt takes a massive mark with 45 seconds left.

Brisbane defender Daniel Merrett answers with a thrilling mark of his own, but there’s only 20 seconds left and his feet are on the edge of Geelong’s goal square. The ground is 170 metres long. Elliot Yeo, Simon Black, Joel Patfull. Five seconds left. Jed Adcock has it on the ground. A desperate handball to Dayne Zorko who barrels it forward into the palm of none other than milestone man Ash McGrath.

The siren sounds. Geelong coach Chris Scott looks furious on the sidelines. Commentator Anthony Hudson is losing his voice.

‘THIS IS BETTER THAN A FAIRYTALE,’ he calls. ‘YOU CAN’T DREAM THESE SCENARIOS.’

Ash McGrath lines up over 50 metres away from Brisbane’s goal.

‘Ashley McGrath in his 200th game. A behind will create a draw. A goal will give the Lions an incredible victory. Ash McGrath comes in. It’s ON ITS WAY! It’s THERE! THE MIRACLE ON GRASS! THE BRISBANE LIONS HAVE KICKED EIGHT GOALS IN THE LAST QUARTER AND AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR THEY HAVE WON!’

I smile and wonder what it would feel like to get a taste of that.

BY THE END of the season, Hawthorn have finished on top of the ladder. Here we go again.

We enact revenge on Sydney and smash them in the first week of finals, which means I get to sit back and watch who gets the privilege of playing to play us in the second week. I hope for a different result, but Geelong beat Port Adelaide, setting up the inevitable reunion.

Oh well, I think. It’s been a good run. This Preliminary Final will be our last game of the year. But, just maybe, a smaller part of me thinks, that this is how it’s meant to be. We can’t win a flag unless we beat Geelong. We can’t get the gold unless we slay the dragon first. We can’t sneak past, we have to beat him even when he is breathing fire down our necks.

The game is agonising. At three-quarter time, I swear off football. I’ve had enough. I can’t take this anymore. We’re going to lose and there’s nothing I can do about it. We’re down by twenty points. We can’t even win when we’re ahead at three-quarter time.

The fourth quarter is absolute torture. I’ve sworn off football, but my dad and I agreed we never leave games early. I watch most of it from behind my scarf. Slowly, we inch forward. We start to close the gap. But time is running out.

The calls come every couple of minutes.

‘WHO’S GOT A RADIO?’

There’s be a slight pause before the answer comes back.

‘SEVEN MINUTES AND FORTY-FIVE SECONDS.’

We all groan.

I’m holding the hand of the lady sitting next to me. I’d never met her before tonight. I don’t even know her name.

When Shaun Burgoyne kicks the goal that puts us in front again, we erupt.

There is over five minutes left in the game. It is excruciating. A lifetime exists in those five minutes. Radio call, four minutes left. Hide behind my scarf again. Radio call. Barely any time has passed. Nobody is scoring.

When the siren sounds, we are five points up. Captain Luke Hodge throws his hands in the air. We scream, shout, celebrate. The curse has lifted. Cinderella goes to the ball. Sleeping beauty awakens from her slumber. I hug my dad. I hug the lady next to me. Everybody bursts into tears. We’ve done it. We’ve actually done it. We’ve accomplished the impossible. I feel invincible. I don’t care who is waiting for us in the Grand Final next week, we will beat them. Football is beautiful. Football is the best thing in the world. I could never give up football, not when this is the euphoria waiting at the end of eleven straight losses.

Goddammit, I think when we’ve calmed down. That buffoon Jeff was right. We win when it counts.

I GET MY dream. My dad and I go to the Grand Final. After eleven straight losses to Geelong, we kick eleven goals and eleven behinds to win our eleventh flag.

None of it makes any sense. We get to go back the next year, and the year after, to watch Hawthorn win three flags in a row.

It’s better than a fairytale. You can’t dream these scenarios. I could certainly never write it.

The weather forecast wasn’t looking good for a beach getaway but I figured that would only motivate me to stay inside and write more!

It ended up being a really productive trip. I arrived with around 8,000 words already written towards my new draft of Song of the Summer and I left with 23,000 words. So I wrote 15,000 words towards the new draft during my time at Phillip Island. Yay!

I’m still really far off from reaching my goal of around 80,000 to 90,000 words but progress is progress. 

Here’s what I learned about writing while I was there.

I need to focus on writing

This may sound really obvious, but let me explain. There are lots of ‘hidden’ parts to writing that aren’t writing. These include: networking and meeting other writers, building your social media profile, connecting with others on social media, pitching, querying, chasing invoices, etc. All of these extra things are necessary to make the writing happen. 

However, I need to prioritise my time to focus on the actual writing right now. Even though I’m rewriting, 80,000 to 90,000 words is a lot of work! My priority right now is doing everything I can to reach that goal.

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Since then, the internet has been inundated with reviews, scores, verdicts and hot takes about the album.

But given it’s only been a week and a half, should we maybe slow down and take a breath?

‘How we critique music is broken’

In her article ‘Taylor Swift Is Proof That How We Critique Music Is Broken’ for Bloomberg, Jessica Karl argues that critics and fans alike need to push back against the fast-paced hot take nature of the internet and take more time to digest such a rich album before we arrive at our opinions.

‘Where’s the “delight” in staying up until dawn to finish listening to an album as if it’s a college paper we’re cramming to complete by the morning?’ Karl writes.

She doubts the ability of a critic to fully digest a two-hour double album of 31 songs in a mere matter of hours, which is when the reviews started spilling out of major music outlets.

It’s an instant classic ! It’s a 6.6 out of 10, unruly and unedited! It’s a five-star pleasure! It’s audacious and transfixing! It’s vulnerable but vicious!

It was even faster on the fan side of internet: the live reactions, first listen rankings, updated Taylor Swift album rankings, trending snippets and lyric sleuthing deep dives appeared on TikTok within minutes.

What is more important: listening to the album, or getting to be part of the discourse?

Then there are people like Channel 7 reporter Matt Doran who chose not to bother to listen to Adele’s 30 before interviewing her. Surely there’s something wrong with criticism if a journalist doesn’t feel the need to engage with the music at all? Is the scoop Adele herself? Does it even matter what the record sounds like?

Slow burns

I can assure you that I have listened to The Tortured Poets Department from start to finish. And, as the internet exploded in a far-off corner, my first instinct was that it would take some time to sink in.

Because, I do fall in love with some songs immediately. Sometimes I hit play on a new song and instantly my heart races and I know yes, this is the one! This song will fix my entire life!  

‘Blank Space’ by Taylor Swift, from the second I hit play on that music video. ‘doomsday’ by Lizzy McAlpine, as soon as I heard the devastating lyrics (‘But the funny thing is I would have married you / If you had stuck around / I feel more free than I have in years / Six feet in the ground’) and my heart broke along with hers. When Jonathan Larson finally has his genius breakthrough in tick… tick… BOOM! and the song he’s spent the entire film trying to write ‘Come to Your Senses’ is really, actually, genuinely worth the wait.

But others take time.

‘Turning Tables’ by Adele was released in 2011. I heard it on Adele’s second album 21 and covered by Gwyneth Paltrow on Glee. I didn’t fall in love with it until I sang it myself in 2015. As I memorised the lyrics, I was hit by the vulnerability and rawness of the song.

Upon first listen of Olivia Rodrigo’s much anticipated sophomore album GUTS, I didn’t feel certain that she had lived up to the SOUR hype. Lead single ‘vampire’ didn’t stand out to me. But a couple of months after the album came out, I fell in love with the yearning of ‘making the bed’. I couldn’t tell you what I thought of it on the first listen. Only that sometime afterwards, there was a day where it clicked in my brain and became one of my all-time favourite songs.

In the summer of 2015 and 2016, I became obsessed with a new Broadway musical called Hamilton and its subsequent Tony Awards sweep was unsurprising. But, eight years later, I can’t remember the last time I put the cast recording of Hamilton on. Instead, I’ve listened to the Waitress cast recording, the Sara Bareilles concept album and the cut songs album all in the last month alone. There’s no denying the spectacle of Hamilton, but I can’t quite seem to shake the quiet honesty of Waitress and it’s stayed with me all these years.

Timely and relevant

When I wrote theatre reviews for ArtsHub, I was expected to turn them in within 48 hours of seeing a show. A review was only worth publishing while it was timely and relevant. If it was a short run, the pressure was even greater to get the review out before the show closed.

This is true of everything: theatre, music, literature, etcetera. It must be new and hot off the press! Last year’s crop is old news! Put it out to pasture!

Often, it was fine to write a review that quickly. Deadlines are useful motivation. It was good to write about a show while it was still fresh. But occasionally, I would have appreciated some extra time to consider things more deeply.

While I am in favour of taking the time to soak up music for as long as I can, will publishing ever be?

‘Please don’t be in love with someone else’

So I can’t tell you what I think of The Tortured Poets Department just yet. Ask me in a couple of months.

I can tell you that when I saw Taylor Swift perform at The Eras Tour in Melbourne two months ago, I fell in love with a fourteen-year-old song called ‘Enchanted’. Imagine, if this song had disappeared as soon as Speak Now wasn’t the hottest thing on the block anymore, I wouldn’t have gotten to have such a sparkling night.

When I say rewrite, I mean I’ve got a copy of the previous draft sitting on my desk beside me and I’m retyping out every single word into a fresh Word document. Rewrites can be pretty terrifying as it feels like I’m going back to a blank page but I’ve been trying to remind myself that I’m very much not back at the beginning.

As I chronicled in The seven drafts of Song of the Summer, I’ve been writing and rewriting this book over and over again. In March, I decided to head back in for round eight to incorporate some publisher feedback.

These are the major drafts I’ve done so far:

• Draft 0 (2015) - getting to 18,000 words then giving up

• Draft 1 (2017) - first full draft! Woohoo!

• Draft 4 (2020) - rewrite through Kill Your Darlings Editorial Mentorship program

• Draft 6 (2022-23) - rewrite partially through Bundanon residency and my own determination

So since I had a first draft, this is the third time I’m going back to the blank page and typing every word out all over again.

Obviously, this can’t be the best way to write a book. It’s woefully inefficient. It’s going to be a decade minimum by the time Song of the Summer comes out (if it comes out at all).

So over the last couple of years, I’ve been paying specific attention to how I write my drafts and trying to figure out what I could do to hopefully speed up the process for the next one. Maybe it’ll take me five years instead of ten!

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Our trip was motivated by a singular purpose: the AFL hosted all nine games for the week out of Adelaide in a festival of football called Gather Round.

It wasn’t my first time travelling to watch footy and it wasn’t even my first time watching Hawthorn at Adelaide Oval, but it was my first time going to an event of this nature and I’m pleased to say it was an absolute blast!

Here are my five highlights from the weekend.

5. Autumn leaves

Road tripping through Australia usually doesn’t offer you a particularly exciting variety of landscape as you drive through the countryside. The route from Melbourne to Adelaide is not very visually appealing (apart from the Big Koala). Instead, it’s many hours spent driving past similar looking fields.

When we finally pulled into Hahndorf, the German village in the Adelaide Hills where we were staying, we were greeted by a beautiful row of trees dressed in reds, oranges and yellows for autumn. I didn’t expect the leaves to be falling this early and after the many hours of driving had blurred together, the red leaves were a wonderful welcome surprise.

4. The inflatable Sherrin

During our meandering around Adelaide, we discovered that the AFL had installed a giant inflatable Sherrin football in the middle of Adelaide’s Rundle Mall. So silly and yet so fun!

It was really exciting that wherever we went in Adelaide, we saw signs, posters or gigantic footballs to celebrate Gather Round.

3. Monarto Safari Park

We had one spare morning sans football and we chose to spend it hanging out with the animals at Monarto Safari Park.

At Monarto, you jump on a bus and drive through all the large animal enclosures instead of walking around like at a zoo. It’s the largest safari park outside of Africa. My favourite animals were the inquisitive meerkats and the energetic Tasmanian devils.

2. Bakeries

When I found out that Adelaide had several 24-hour bakeries, I knew that it was a city of culture. Over the weekend, I visited as many bakeries as humanly possible: on the drive there, in Hahndorf and in Adelaide.

I did make it to one of the elusive 24-hour ones, Café de Vili’s, which did an excellent sausage roll. The German Cake Shop up in Hahndorf had wonderful warmed up pretzels and bee sting cake (although the owner is about to retire so I will sadly never eat there again). And Café 1813 did fantastic pancakes.

1. Watching Hawthorn play at Adelaide Oval

The whole purpose of my visit to Adelaide was for football so, obviously, the number one highlight was getting to see Hawthorn play at Adelaide Oval.

Travelling for football might sound like a fanatical thing to do, but I did keep in mind I’ve also travelled for theatre. There’s something special about making a fun weekend out of something you really love and going the distance to make it happen.

Adelaide Oval is a great venue for football. I loved watching the sunset glow as the twilight game progressed and the planes flying over the hill became blinking white dots in the sky. 

Best of all, tomato sauce was free. The MCG could learn something from that.

This essentially means that you need to learn how to edit and cut parts of your writing in instances when it isn’t working – even if you love it. This might be a fun side character or a particularly great metaphor that you’re really chuffed about, but if it doesn’t actually work in the story as a whole then it’s got to go.

But if it’s so clear that it isn’t working, surely cutting it will be easy? Well, writing is often such a personal pursuit – maybe your story is inspired by something that happened to you or it’s literally a memoir piece – that it can be hard to cut out the bits that you love the most.

Getting feedback

When you’re in the early stages of your writing journey, it can be really easy to dismiss the feedback you receive from other writers or editors. Oh, they don’t understand what I’m doing. I built this fantasy world, of course it has to work exactly like this. They don’t know my characters like I do.

Except that they do! It can be really hard to detach your story from the world you’ve created inside your head, but all your reader will have is the words on the page. It’s actually so exciting that each reader will arrive at it in a slightly different way.

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