Saul Griffith unpacks his electric dreams and much more!Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ Νβ€Œ 
James Pillion
 

MY FAVOURITE THINGS | Love Is The Message

β€œAustralians, just over 25 million of us, consume about 125 million tonnes of coal a year. That’s 5 tonnes per year, or 14 kilograms a day, each. There is nothing else in your life that you consume at this rate, and in second place is the petrol and diesel we put in our cars. It isn’t obvious when we fill up our cars because we don’t actually watch the precious liquid go into the tank, but each Australian household uses around 2800 liters per year of these liquid fuels, which is a little more than 1000 liters per person per year.”

β€” SAUL GRIFFITH
 

As Sydney’s La NiΓ±a woes have rolled into Spring, shutting off the sun and transforming my local parks into rice paddies, I’ve been forced to reckon with the stark realities of climate change on a daily basis. While the unrelenting weather has left me downtrodden, I’ve been even more dejected by the tepid response from the nation’s leaders. Politicians who claim to work for us yet are too busy trying to keep the old world order alive and well. The average Australian is extraordinarily resilient, able and willing to endure endless catastrophe with a β€˜she’ll be right’ smirk. Yet as my favourite slice of paradise remains submerged from ongoing flash flooding this week, I can’t help wondering when we’re finally going to address the elephant in the room.

 

The Big Switch πŸ–₯

It’s no easy thing to read how Australia’s leaders are deliberately delaying the adoption and importation of electric vehicles by refusing to incentivize international carmakers. While this in-depth conversation with Saul Griffith, hosted by The Australia Institute, doesn’t get to the root of the problem, it does offer an extraordinary way forward. Published earlier this year, The Big Switch unveils a comprehensive approach to replacing every facet of our personal and professional lives with green technologies. It’s a remarkably revolutionary idea to think that such a structural transition can be founded on love and community. A collective race-to-the-top instead of some frantic crisis of conscience. While this transition will require a war-time style effort, electrifying Australian life promises to put dollarydoos back in our pocket on top of decarbonizing the supply-chain of our export economy.

β€œAbout f*cking time we have an actual plan written down that can be executed and financed. In a decarbonised world, Australia is a winner. The opportunity now is ours for the taking.” β€” Mike Cannon-Brookes

 

Another Round πŸŽ₯

Ever since I laid eyes on The Celebration, Thomas Vinterberg’s debut contribution to the Dogme 95 film club, I’ve always made time for his provocative storytelling. The Danish filmmaker delights in infiltrating the intimate spaces of the family unit and unraveling the sordid mysteries that lie between us. I’ve been a champion of Mads Mikkelson ever since falling for him in Nicolas Winding Refn’s phenomenal Pusher trilogy in the nineties and early aughts (His turn in Valhalla Rising left me all twisted inside). While the Danish actor is certainly more palatable in Another Round, Mikkelson channels an inner discomfort that is both absorbing and unrelenting. I found myself laughing out loud at the onscreen antics of these middle-aged teachers. The Academy Award winner left me curious to finally check out his acclaimed 2012 hit The Hunt on MUBI.
 

The House Sound of Chicago πŸ—ž

Kelefa Sanneh’s comprehensive history of dance music in Major Labels turned me onto this blast from the past. It’s incredible to think that Simon Witter’s 1986 i-D article was exploring a fringe sound that is now embedded in every top-of-the-pops single. It’s even harder hard to swallow the fact that a musical genre I’ve long associated with luxe European clubs originated in a small cache of Chicago nightspots β€” the term β€˜House’ was originally dubbed by the owners of a late-night Chicago spot called The Warehouse to help monetize the sound of their resident DJ Frankie Knuckles. This live Ron Hardy tape from a 1988 session at the Muzik Box, one of the first sanctuaries of the burgeoning movement, has had me shaking a tail feather at the city library.

β€œWhen a new sound emerges there’s always a question of whether it’ll just be a fad, but House has too broad an appeal to die out. The American industry presents a lot of barriers but I’m sure House is going to go pop.” β€” Marshall Jefferson
 

Red Rocket πŸŽ₯

Sean Baker’s lo-fi storytelling first came to my attention while living in Los Angeles. Tangerine, his 2015 release, focuses on the life of Sin-Dee, a transvestite hooker searching the streets of Hollywood for the pimp that broke her heart. I’ve never seen a filmmaker explore the intricate dynamics of donut stores quite like Baker. As he reveals, these establishments are a sanctuary to the marginalized, from transvestite hookers to cash-strapped tradies. I love that a bare-bones Texas donut stand is the meet-cute for this frenetic comedy, introducing our down-on-his-luck hustler protagonist to the promise of youth. Red Rocket is the first film to shed some much-needed humanity on Trump’s America and I was thrilled to see Simon Rex receive his dues at this year’s Spirit Awards.
 

Look At Me πŸ“»

I was stumped to learn about a whole new coterie of critters that had flown under my radar. And while it seems like a no-brainer to have a podcast series devoted to the epic Australian wilderness, this Guardian production sets their sights on the overlooked curiousities. Though some of the banter between Australian ecologist Chris McCormack and the in-house Guardian journo is cringe-worthy at the best of times, the show redeems itself with some startling facts. Just listening to this episode on native bees has helped me realize that the land Down Under is home to two-hundred native species that have no interest in making honey or living within a hierarchical colony like their European relatives. I’m working up the courage to tune into this episode on the inner life of the 3 metre worm.

 

The North Water πŸ“Ί

In a month of otherwise unrelenting sadness, Mensun Bound’s unlikely discovery of Ernest Shackleton’s lost ship after a century of searching left me feeling like a kid on Christmas morning. It also inspired me to get my eyes on this brooding HBO series. An all-star cast of English thespians top-lines this 1860s period drama that follows a whaling vessel hunting for fresh meat in the Arctic. While the show features one of the most compelling portrayals of a whale hunt put to film, Andrew Haigh takes a wider perspective in examining the true opportunity cost of the emerging capitalist marketplace. Colin Farrell is sublime in the well-worn boots of Henry Drax, a harpoon specialist with a grudge against the world at large. I love the way he keeps Jack O’Connell on his toes at every turn.
 

Little Man πŸ“š

After feasting on David Chase’s The Many Saints of Newark, the prequel feature to his magnum opus The Sopranos, I was hungry for some more Mafiosi history lessons. Robert Lacey’s slim accounting of Meyer Lansky, a notorious figure from the New York underworld, scratched the itch but left me feeling more empathy than vicarious thrills. As the 1991 biography makes clear, the Jewish mobster endured a life of persecution from the authorities and was never able to turn his unique gift for numbers into an embarrassment of riches. Nonetheless it inspired me to sit down with Eytan Rockaway’s Lansky, last year’s made-for-TV flick, that relives his glory moments through the eyes of a wizened Harvey Keitel.

 

The Last Tycoon πŸŽ₯

I wasn’t a big fan of the 2016 series portrayal of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s unfinished final novel β€” Matt Bomer as the pivotal Monroe Stahr just didn’t do it for me β€” but it did get me curious about the 1976 film adaptation. Elia Kazan has held a lofty place in my heart ever since coming across some of his seminal classics in film school like On The Waterfront and A Face In The Crowd β€” a personal favourite of mine. What makes this film so remarkable is its blending of old and new Hollywood, pitting Robert De Niro, hot off the success of Godfather II, against studio regulars like Robert Mitchum and Ray Milland. Yet it was Ingrid Boulting’s casting as the unattainable muse that held me spellbound to the end. It also inspired me to watch Splendor In The Grass for the first time, the film which ignited the romance between my man-crush Warren Beatty and Natalie Wood. 
 

A Very British Scandal πŸ“Ί

I didn’t know what to make of the pilot episode of this lush new period drama but found myself sticking around for the wonderfully inventive camerawork and sumptuous set pieces. That, and the rich onscreen chemistry between Claire Foy and Paul Bettany. Not to be confused with A Very English Scandal, the serio-comic series starring Hugh Grant and Ben Whishaw, this three-part limited series unravels a scandalous royal divorce that fed the tabloids in the early 1960s. Strange as it might seem, I couldn’t help seeing some startling similarities between Foy’s portrayal as a young Queen Elizabeth in The Crown and her lascivious turn as Margaret Campbell. The series channels a curious angle on the pitfalls of unprocessed trauma when paired with a stiff upper lip.
 

Fresh πŸŽ₯

I’ve been on a horror bent over the past couple weeks. While I was rather underwhelmed by Nia Da Costa’s social commentary re-make of Candyman I found myself hooked by Mimi Cave’s highly inventive debut. Penned by Lauryn Kahn, this woke satire takes aim at the highly problematic nature of online dating. A part of me couldn’t believe that such a provocative subject matter could have attracted the likes of Hyperobject Industries, Adam McKay’s forward thinking production company and a tentpole goliath such as Legendary Pictures. Yet another side of me was thrilled that such an original concept found caretakers and a budget that really allowed it to soar. Sebastian Stan is the lynchpin that holds this tonal Frankenstein in place, delivering a standout performance that left me chewing my nails down to the bits.
 

David Mancuso πŸ‘€

Kelefa Sanneh’s new book has been inspiring my listening habits and turned me onto the remarkable life of this New York native. As this BBC documentary short reveals, David Mancuso’s weekly rent parties at his SoHo loft in the nineteen-sixties and seventies would herald the arrival of disco and Studio 54 a few years later. A Saturday night sanctuary for the LGBTQ community and just about anyone looking to get lost in music. I loved so many of Mancuso’s house rules, from the spiked punch to the birthday party atmosphere of juice and balloons, and especially Mancuso’s strict belief in playing each record from start to finish. As it becomes increasingly difficult to find a Sydney nighspot that caters to my disco dreams, Mancuso’s β€˜Love Saves The Day’ vision stands as a beacon of what once was, and what could be again. 

"Once, on Prince St., a girl was next to me dancing. We turned to each other, and we danced for three hours. Straight. No breaks. And when it was done, we both just smiled at each other and went our separate ways." β€” Mark Riley
 

Histoire de Melody NelsonπŸŽ™

I received a phone call out of the blue from my friend Jack Ladder to help him put a trio of live songs to film ahead of his upcoming tour. This 1971 Serge Gainsbourg album was an accompanying reference and one that has had me coming back for more. Loosely inspired by Gainsbourg’s affection for Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita, it unveils a deeply controversial tale of a listless tycoon that rear-ends a gorgeous young damsel off her bicycle. As he comes to the aid of the teenage beauty, an instant connection compels him to whisk her off in his vintage Rolls (if you don’t believe me you can watch the acid-trip of a music video here). For all its lechery, the album possesses a deep tenderness that only the French can get away with. Its pulsing melody and slick orchestration is as alluring as ever paired with Gainsbourg’s hushed tones.

 

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WRITING | @jamespillion
FILM | @jamespillionfilm

8 Stephen St
Bondi, NSW,
Australia

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