Mi vacío y yo [2022] Adrián Silvestre, Spain -98m-

My Emptiness and I

A young trans woman in Barcelona deals with her transition, dating and daily life.

The film has a straight-forward narrative style to the extent that it borders on documentary, though every scene burns with an authenticity that is entirely engaging. It is emotionally intense and yet naturalistic, confronting complex existential issues, yet never melodramatic. Nothing is played for pathos and yet I was entirely emotionally invested.

Written in collaboration with the protagonist, played by Raphaëlle Pérez, the film depicts the process of her being diagnosed with gender dysphoria, taking hormones, support group discussions with other trans people and the general emotion and confusion of transitioning. The joys and pains of dating and sex with men via an app are dealt with candidly. Finding authenticity is difficult when men are likely to have one of various reactions to her transness: shock, curiosity, fetishisation, uncertainty. She moves through these struggles neither as a victim nor a warrior, simply as a person confronting what is necessary in order to create the life she wants for herself.

Titanic (1997) James Cameron, 25th anniversary 3D re-release

Who hasn't seen this already? The depressed rich girl meets the free-spirited poor boy and the biggest boat ever built sinks into the middle of the freezing Atlantic Ocean.

25 years after I first saw it at the cinema as an innocent and impressionable 13-year-old at the start of 1998 the film remains the same, apart from becoming slightly 3D, and yet I have changed immeasurably. Leonardo DiCaprio is a lot less convincing as a worldly romantic hero, but he is so gorgeous and charming that the more bitter and cynical 38-year-old version of myself can believe that I would have fallen in love with him anyway, if I was Rose, as did much of the world at the time. I was so immensely moved and thrilled by the movie as a child that I wonder whether I too was allured into giving up my domestic banality and security to live an adventurous and nomadic life, falling in love with any beautiful, open-hearted man I meet.

The music is unashamedly manipulative, filling in the cracks that the thin characters and weak performances leave to make the film as emotionally moving as it is visually. Apart from Kate Winslet dragging the film behind her with admirable commitment, many of the characters are cartoonish and it's amazing that they teeter miraculously on the right side of laughable. Luckily we only need to care about the two romantic leads, and they are so sexy and so hot for each other, and so blank that we can project all our most outlandish romantic fantasies upon them. This is the sort of toxic, unattainable romantic fantasy that seeps into the core of impressionable 13-year-olds like me and stays there for life, disappointing us with every real relationship that fails to compare. Maybe I've been lucky enough to have a Leo or two in my life, maybe I've tortured myself and my lovers in pursuit of fantasy ever since.

At three and a quarter hours the pacing is exceptional; the drawing us into the world, the getting to know the situation, the escalation of conflict and of course especially the application of the inevitable disaster are expertly deployed. Everything comes at the moment you want it. The sinking of the ship – the technical description, the anticipation, the fear, the chaos, the humanity, the beauty, the tragedy, the spectacle – all remains shockingly convincing, both in the visual effects and the editing. When the ship is sinking there are moments of transcendence both ironic and cinematic that don't need protagonists to be achieved; the ornate and meticulous first-class dining room filling up with water and then the spectacular domed skylight shattering under a torrent of water; the half-empty lifeboats waiting in the cold while hundreds of people drown and freeze in front of them.

A spectacle that sucked the whole world down with it into the depths of its allure.

Of an Age (2022) Goran Stolevski, Australia

Melbourne, 1999. A young Serbian-Australian ballroom dancer on the verge of adulthood discovers a surprising connection with the calm older brother of his chaotic best friend.

A tightly focussed dramatic portrait that successfully reveals the protagonist's emotional state-of-being. Capturing that vivid moment at the end of high school where he has not had a chance to yet discover who he is, how he will live or even what life is really like for a queer boy who will inevitably have to find his own way in a world that offers no role-models. He is so used to being lonely that he is genuinely shocked to discover someone who is not only openly gay, but who he actually likes and can effortlessly connect with in a meaningful and genuine way. Though the connection is brief, the need behind it is deep and long-lasting. Ten years later, the tragedy is that his life has changed drastically but the need is the same and remains equally unfulfilled.

The film focuses on only three characters at two distinct moments to make the most of its limitations. One day in 1999 the two men meet in transitional moments for them both and find a feeling of stability together. One day in 2010 they meet again and the resonance of that brief meeting ten years earlier is felt very strongly. Though the best friend/sister who connects them is vividly drawn and enthusiastically performed, the social milieu of the characters swirls around them and the film wastes no time in cutting to its primary focus. The depth and subtlety of how this brief and genuine encounter plays out, and what it means for the protagonist, are conveyed in a naturalistic way that continues to resonate after the film is over.

Sublime (2022) Mariano Biasin, Argentina

 A teenage boy in Argentina practices with his rock band and falls in love with his best friend, struggling to tell him how he feels.

A film that has been described as “underplayed” but I would describe as undeveloped. Many scenes play out with no clear purpose, nothing is revealed of the characters and nothing is developed in the plot, which becomes quite frustrating. The aspect ratio is wide, though the camera holds claustrophobically close on the actors' faces or the backs of their heads, and the focus is shallow, suggesting an intimacy and interiority. However, even the protagonist, who takes up most of the screentime, we learn nothing about, what he is thinking or feeling, witnessing only his moody eyes and messy, black, curly fringe.

This is a film that wouldn't exist without the undiscriminating market of the international queer film festival. There is an endless array of films about cute teenage boys struggling with their sexuality. However the actors are usually older than the characters and we are privileged with a depth of insight into their external and internal worlds. Here the actors look like they're actually teenagers, they burp in each other's faces for laughs, cannot communicate their feelings and spend lots of time staring moodily at their phones. Rather than witnessing a penetrating artistic portrait, I felt like I was just hanging out with immature and inexpressive teenagers, which was not fun.

There is a genuine feeling to the milieu, but no depth to the characterisations. The authenticity is most evident in the band performances. The characters are clearly writing and rehearsing their own four-piece rock band, genuinely working hard and improving. There is no post-dubbing or conspicuously well-rehearsed performances. But like most newly-formed teen rock bands, they're not very good.

(Spoiler alert.) The film does not justifies the title, awkward being a more appropriate adjective. A more appropriate title would be Nothing Will Change, a phrase that is whispered in one of the only sublime moments, when the protagonist is dreaming of intimacy with his best friend and bandmate. It is indicative of his friend accepting him after the revelation of his attraction, but also an unfortunate admission that there is almost no development in the entire running time of the film. The only point of tension is whether or not he will admit his love, and there are many frustrating scenes in which he does not. When he finally does it is very underwhelming, though there is a certain poignancy to it not being a big deal.

Lonesome (2022) Craig Boreham, Australia -95m-

A young rural Australian man escapes a small-town scandal to Sydney, meeting another guy through Grindr.

The plot feels less important than the intimacy between the lead actor and the filmmaker. The filmmaking is stark and direct, dealing with the moment-to-moment reality of the protagonist's marginal life. The impressive performance of lead Josh Lavery is unusual and takes time to reach its full impact. At first I thought his character was too underplayed, but slowly throughout the film I felt the impact of his hopelessness and the tangible reality of his survival-mode. Similarly, there is a lot of nudity and no aspect of his experience is excluded for good taste, the cumulative effect of which is deep empathy and familiarity, like the intimacy of getting to know a new lover. Subsequently, the extent of my identification with the protagonist by the end of the film was quite shocking.

His relationship with the Grindr hook-up that doesn't end is also depicted in a matter-of-fact way that somehow creates a cumulative impact, where the casualness of their commitment to each other obscures the evident fact that they have something very real and significant to offer each other. I hope this film gets a chance to reach the world and that Josh Lavery gets opportunities to surprise us further as a performer.

Close (2022) Lukas Dhont

An intimate friendship between two 13-year-old boys in Belgium is damaged when the boys start high school.

An exceptionally tender depiction of this unself-conscious relationship gives way to an emotionally manipulative tear-jerker. The screening I attended there was one person who couldn't stop sobbing before the film was even halfway through and had to be gently led out by her partner. I remained unmoved as I tried to throw myself into the despair of the film's world; I wanted to cry too. The tangible reality and tragedy of the situation were not conveyed, neither the true impact the events had on the protagonist, so we merely watch the characters go on with their lives, interrupted by long scenes of various people crying. The beauty of the intimacy between boys, the protagonist with his friend, and with his brother, is delicately conveyed in a few gestures and expressions, and it's rarity and precarity is poignant.

Blueback (2022) Robert Connolly

Abby, a young woman working as a marine biologist, recalls her teenage years with her mother in Western Australia. She is introduced to the diverse marine life in the bay she grew up in, makes friends with a blue groper and helps her mother fight to protect the bay's marine life from encroaching property developers.

A straight-forward, heart-felt film with a pleasant, leisurely pace about pursuing a passion to protect something you care about, aimed at a young audience. The flash-back narrative structure is nostalgic and makes clear why the adult Abby is working to protect the bleaching coral reef, but it obviates any emotional or dramatic impact from either time-period. The underwater photography of the ocean life, and the actors interacting with it, is very beautifully shot, tranquil and convincing of the film's thesis, to protect ocean life. Though short on depth and complexity the film successfully depicts the simplicity and integrity of spending your life caring for your immediate environment.

Scam of Abundance

 Focus family! I am deeply humbled to invite you to participate in a very spiritual fractal exponential Divine Family, co-creating a mandala of abundance with sacred geometry and community. Together in unity we will embody each of the elements on an infinite journey of dream-weaving in surrender and abundance, giving unconditionally to a sacred economy to support each other in manifesting our dreams.

This spiritual journey of sacred infinite abundance begins with embodying the element of fire, flirting with the law of attraction, and along with seven other immortal souls, sending an unconditional gift of $US1440 to the divine being embodying water in the centre of our sacred mandala of abundance, overflowing with generosity from the eternal chalice within your heart.

Our mandala then splits in two and you syncronistically flow into embodying the sacred element of air, blowing over the sacred landscape of our collective activated heartspace by inviting two sacred yes beings who resonate with the magnificence of our collective vision to join our family of love and light and financial abundance, making sure your sacred breath supports our 16 new fires, eight in each mandala, to make their unconditional gifts of $US1440 each to each of our new sacred water beings and keeping our mandalas inflated and aerated.

Flowing in divine grace into the embodiment of the element of earth as our two mandalas become four, you will channel the energy of our beautiful Pachamama to ground our connected family, helping ensure 32 new members join and each unconditionally gift $US1440 so we all may advance.

Having moved through each of the elements week by week in harmony with the cycle of our divine moon you will experience fullness and completion as you finally embody the most sacred and precious of all elements, water. In the centre of one of the eight unique and special mandalas, as the heartbeat of the loom, as the inspiration for our family, the positive love-light that illuminates us all, the most spiritual and sacred of all utterly deserving beings, you will receive the abundance of eight of our 64 overflowing new fires and their unconditional gifts of $US1440 totalling $US11,520 to spend on the manifestation of your most transcendent dreams of infinite abundance. Your ego will dissolve as you allow yourself to surrender to receiving such infinite abundance.

I know what you must be thinking: How can a system based on the need for infinite exponential growth, if the number of people must double every time we move to a new level, if before we get to the end of the tenth mandala we must involve more than twice as many people as exist on earth, possibly bring abundance to everyone? Surely it will collapse at some point, as all things do and all the people who have not yet entered the centre of the mandala will feel disappointed and cheated? That's exactly the point. It's not you that is asking that question, it is your trauma-based fear of abundance, it is your negative need to perpetuate the scarcity mindset you have been taught. It just shows that your heart is beyond closed. Yes, it's a pyramid scheme, but isn't everything a pyramid scheme these days, isn't our whole economic system based on those in the centre taking from those on the outside without having really done anything to earn that money? If you go into this sacred sacred pyramid loom mandala scheme consciously, with good intentions, how can it possibly be bad?

It is important that you enter our divine family in full awareness that when you make your generous gift you may not receive anything in return, and that when you invite others to join, they may never receive the abundance they deserve in return for their trust and commitment. But that's the point. You are deciding in blind faith to trust the flow of abundance, a deeper connection with community, creatively weaving a supportive web of abundance for some; you are feeling a sacred yes, you are committing, you are surrendering. There is no real good or bad, everything is about intentions, and our intentions are definitely good.

Yes, 960 people must be involved for all the people who paid you to get paid, it is mathematically impossible that it works for everyone, but maths is not going to advance your soul towards enlightenment, only the unconditional belief of everyone. Let's step into our hearts again and stop letting fear ruin our heartspaces. There is no true or false, only different perspectives. If you have no fear-based negative expectations then how can you be disappointed? If you are stuck in the conditioned mindset of tangible limits I invite you to think and feel into the infinite. Allow yourself to grow beyond the tangible into the spiritual and you will experience infinite abundance for eternity. Love and light, family, love and light.

Tired of watching films? A 1990 Bill Gosden speech

I was recently reading an interview with the new director of the Sydney Film Festival where he was asked the question anyone in a similar position can expect to be asked about 1000 times a year.

Don't you get tired of watching films?

Not at all, he replied. What could be more fun? I watch four or five films in a day and I find it exhilarating. Wow, I thought, you can spot the new ones.

Confronted by an interviewer asking the same question I might attempt a similarly ingenious response, but I know that here I can go into much more detail. And because so many people have expressed an interest over the years in this enthralling subject, I've decided to fill my allotted space tonight by telling you how I see movies – and whether or not I get tired of them.

The first thing to point out is that I became used to being paid rather than paying to watch movies at an impressionable age. As a first-year university student I received $20 a fortnight to preview the movies coming to Dunedin and to write the occasional precocious, brilliant review. There can be little doubt I considered myself an arbiter of taste. Of course one of the tragedies of youth is that so much of what strikes you as fresh, bold, original, daring, even precocious and brilliant is actually being recycled by cynical hacks for the thirty-sixth time.

What I saw in movies twenty years ago was probably a good deal more than you'd know from reading what I wrote back then. Movies were mere pretexts for trying poses. “Attitude” wasn't such a recognised phenomenon back then, but a movie column in the student newspaper was the perfect vehicle for lots of it. The cool and lofty heights from which I admired Joseph Losey's The Go-Between (1971) and deplored Mel Brooks's farty Blazing Saddles (1974) collapsed beneath me when I came to consider the films that really moved me, like Cabaret (1972) or the great movies made in the early '70s by Sam Peckinpah. Writing about these I could only rave like a besotted fool or rail against those who couldn't recognise self-evident genius.