Review: Sweeney Todd

Yesterday we co-ordinated the family's complex social schedules and entrained to our favourite cinema, the Sun Theatre in Yarraville (ch...

Women artists

Germaine Greer, bless her, had a go at exhibitionist and narcissistic women artists the other day. My response, under the somewhat smartarse...

The Bulletin

Back again. That didn't take so long, after all - nothing that a slick new computer couldn't fix. Thank you to the Germans, who subs...

Black is the new black

This morning I turned on my computer and it delivered me a black screen. I have been speaking nicely to it, but it seems to have suffered so...

What branches grow out of this stony rubbish?

It used to be a Melbourne tradition to send reporters down to incoming ships at the docks and ask bewildered visitors what they thought of o...

Midsumma madness

Occasionally nice people say to me: I don't know how you do it. The answer is that, sometimes, I can't. Your indefatigable blogger d...

Review: The Season at Sarsaparilla

The Season at Sarsaparilla by Patrick White, directed by Benedict Andrews. Design by Robert Cousins, costumes by Alice Babidge, lighting by ...