So, after this reflection on seven years of the Curb, let’s take a look at some of my personal favourite pieces on the Curb, while also noting some interesting bits of info about the sites history.
First up, one of the first published interviews as the Curb was for the video game Bee Simulator. It’s a fairly puff piecey interview that was done via email and drafted before being able to play the game. I remember reaching out directly to the developers to run an interview, and given English was their second language, it made sense to run an email chat. I was playing a lot of Farming Simulator at the time, especially on the PS Vita, so had hopes that Bee Simulator would be similarly entertaining. I ended up reviewing the game for a different site, and recall being put off by the out of place combat sequences. Little did I know that bees engaged in quick time event battles.
The most read review that’s on the site belongs to Travis Akbar’s piece on Outback. For a period of time, both Outback and my review of Savage Youth were the highest read pieces on the site. In an odd layer of quirkiness, I ended up finding out the reason why from a student who emailed the site asking for more info to help them answer their high school essay question. Somewhere in America, somehow, they’d used Outback and Savage Youth as films for students to write essays on. Eventually that dropped off, but given the subject matter of the film and the internets fascination with thinking Australia is the deadliest place on earth, Outback remains the highest read and linked to review in the Curb’s history.
As I delve into the reviews of the past, I see a snarkier, snappier, side of me, as if I was attempting to bite at the films and the audience for liking them. Everything from the orgiastic Ready Player One to the turgid taint of Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom copped a beating. There’s a levity to these earlier reviews, almost as if they’re reactionary and attempting to grab attention or readership, which is not too uncommon with film reviews from that time where punching down meant getting more clicks.
As I pushed away from that mindset, I found myself in unexpected territory: I won an award for my writing. Namely, I wrote a piece about Jason Raftopoulos and Dame Hill’s West of Sunshine which ended up being a major turning point in my journey with the Curb, acting as the boost I needed to say ‘keep going’. A follow up award is yet to come, but in the meantime I’ll take my duties as being a Golden Globes voter as a sign that I’m on the right path.
Following on from that, the pieces that I’m most proud of are the ones that skew towards the personal. Take my review of Dean Spanley, written after the passing of one of my dogs in the year 2020, or earlier this year, Cody Allen’s review of David Cronenberg’s The Shrouds, both of which touch on mortality, loss, living, and the echoes that are left behind. When we let a films tune resonate throughout our mind, we’re then able to tap into a kind of soulful writing that acts like a healing kind of exposure of the soul.
Additionally, there’s two pieces from Nadine Whitney that stand out to me as being examples of deeply humanist writing. The first is for the superb documentary Leaving Allen Street; in this review, Nadine explores her own familial connection with caring for those with profound physical and mental disabilities and never lets that connection cloud her engagement of the film. Katrina Channells work is masterfully empathetic, and Nadine’s piece explores that intimately.
Just as intimate is Nadine’s exploration of Gus Berger’s The Lost City of Melbourne. Here is a film that is an act of memorial healing. It’s an act of remembrance and the historical assertion of the power of a cities past. Nadine lives in Naarm-Melbourne, and writes about her connection with the ever changing city in a way that connects the now with the past. The Lost City of Melbourne arrived in the midst of a pandemic, and continues to carry an impact in a city that is so distinctly changed and transformed from what it used to be.
Other pieces that I’m proud of include an exploration into the sole cinematic work of one Steve Irwin in The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course, my stern defence of Stephan Elliott’s magnificent manic masterpiece Welcome to Woop Woop, and my positive review of the cruelly maligned Mac and Me, a positive take that spun the film from its 0% Rotten Tomatoes rating to a respectful 2%. Watch out Paddington 2, your days are numbered.
Other shout outs to writers include the recent series by BD Kooyman who has delved into the 90s with their excellent 90s All Over Me series, Christopher John’s brilliant piece about The Revival House in Perth, Scot F’s piece on Poppy and their anti-capitalism music, and Virat Nehru’s exploration of modern Indian politics as seen in Dev Patel’s Monkey Man. There are a lot more reviews and articles that I could shout out, but these jump to the top of my mind.
As I’ve personally skewed away from reviews, I’ve found myself relishing the joy of getting to dive deep into interviews with filmmakers and artists.
Possibly the best interview experience I’ve had is one that I’m yet to publish, and that’s with Lucy Coleman, a writer-director who I sincerely feel is the future of Australian films and storytelling. I’ve been tinkering away on a piece about her work for months now, and part of the apprehension behind wrapping it up is due to the level of respect and reverence I have for her work. Look out for the interview in the coming weeks.
I was also grateful to spend time talking with Jason Raftopoulos about his latest film Voices in Deep. This interview, alongside my chat with Lucy Coleman, is one of the most open and honest interviews I’ve participated in from both a guest and interviewer perspective. I’m grateful that I could provide the space for Jason to openly explore his influences, his work as a director, and how his heritage plays out on screen.
One of the people I’ve had the pleasure of chatting with a few times is Kasimir Burgess. I first talked with Kasimir in 2019 about his documentary The Leunig Fragments, a film that sees the documentarian becoming a subject while the subject evades the ever observant camera, and then again for his excellent film Franklin. I live for films like Kasimir’s and can’t wait to see his next one.
We’ve been able to share our fair share of ‘pinch me’ interviews on the Curb over the years, ranging from my chat with Kate Winslet to Andy Hazel’s interview with Jafar Panahi to Nadine Whitney’s dive into the Infinity Pool with Brandon Cronenberg, or that time that Bruce Beresford called me up on my mobile and said ‘hi Andrew, this is Bruce’.
While these chats are loved, there’s a small handful that have actively changed my life and how I work as a cultural writer.
If I feel that Lucy Coleman is the face of Australian cinema going forward, then close behind her are Alena Lodkina and Platon Theodoris. I’ve had the delight of interviewing both multiple times, and each time I walk away feeling enriched and humbled by their creativity and their world view. I spoke with Alena about her undervalued 2022 film Petrol here, while Platon was joined by actor Nitin Vengurlekar to talk about The Lonely Spirits Variety Hour here.
But if there’s one chat that has informed how I cover Australian film more than any other, it would be this interview with editor Rachel Grierson Johns about the documentary Strong Female Lead. In my review for the film, I made the horrendous faux pas of stating that films are made in the editing room, and then I failed to name Rachel as the editor. One of her friends kindly called me out for my oversight, and in doing so, linked me in with Rachel to run an interview with her about her process. It’s a rich, deep interview, one that has made sure that I regularly interview people in creative positions who would otherwise not get the chance to be interviewed. Since then, I’ve interviewed casting directors, cinematographers, sound designers, make up and costume artists, and more. One day I’ll interview a gaffer or a Best Boy, and maybe even the catering person.
I hope you’ve enjoy my personal picks of the pieces I’m proud of having published on the Curb. Who am I kidding – I’m proud of all of the pieces published on the Curb. Thank you to all of the writers, guests, and folks who have read the Curb over the years.