Directed by Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu (Babel) and starring Michael Keaton; Birdman is a black comedy that tells the story of a man's battle with his ego, and his quest for acceptance and notoriety. It explores the fragility of one's mind, and the idea of 'celebrity' and Hollywood, and the significance that each play in today's fame-obsessed society.
The niche that Grimm Tales is aiming for is not easily achieved - open for the above eights, but also entertaining for adults - and perhaps this is the production's downfall. At times, the script is tickling and enjoyable, yet at other moments it is glaringly poor and simplistic, whereas, when taken as a whole, the evening is of somewhat formulaic fantasy...
This could be the biggest revelation in Australian horror since... well, ever. One of those rare films that burrows under your skin and leaves an impression for a long time after the credits roll, it has been generating overwhelmingly positive critical reviews since its worldwide debut at the Sundance Film Festival where it won Best Actor, Actress, Screenplay and Feature.
At the beginning of Urinetown, you are told that this isn't your typical musical, and they're not kidding. After a three year run on Broadway, this unconventional toilet-based musical has arrived at the Apollo theatre; bringing it's host of odd characters and even odder storyline along with it.
Leaving aside how horribly low UK benefit payments are, when people can have their income removed and be thrown into penury for missing a single meeting (regardless of the reason), for applying for 34 jobs in a week rather than 35, not to mention the fraudulent activities of some jobcentre staff, the value basis of the system has been subverted and justifies its abolition.
The film succeeds in rendering a personal face to the so often aggrandised problem of immigration, but is undermined by the disjunctive fictional sub-narrative... the film is a real spectacle and a testament to the stark anthropic disassociation and dissemblance that occurs in migratory investigations.
What do you do with your World Cup buzz when England has been knocked out? You take it to Hyde Park to watch the royal oaks sway and Park Lane's billionaire windows get battered by downtuned guitars and drum fills exploding like a 21-gun salute. It's British Summer Time. Scratch that. It's Sabbath Day.