Independent Australian film, television, and culture. Criticism with its eyes open. Reporting with its receipts shown. Six years of it, and counting.

Kriv Stenders built an Egyptian prison on a Sydney soundstage in six weeks, and the picture he made inside it is not about Egypt at all.

Gabrielle Brady's film has no Australian faces, no Australian landscape and no English in it, and the selection committee was unanimous.

Jon Bell's horror film splits its audience along a single question, and the split at Sundance and at Sydney tells you exactly what the film is doing.

Nicholas Verso's ten-part Stan drama refuses the one ending Australian queer coming-of-age stories always reach for, and is far better for the refusal.

The NFSA's restoration returns Ken Hannam's shearing drama to full clarity, and what comes back is a film that honours the work without ever romanticising the men who do it.

David Hirschfelder had to write original music that lives under the loudest warhorse in the piano repertoire, and the quiet writing is what carries the film.

Gillian Armstrong's 1979 debut took a heroine who refuses the marriage plot and made the refusal the whole shape of the picture.

This column has spent six years listening to what Australian cinema sounds like, and the answer keeps changing.

The shows are good, the platforms are crowded, and the audience is splitting into fragments too small for any one show to own.

The film opened in twelve cinemas, the score opened in none of the conversations about it, and both deserve better.
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