Friday, 20 March 2026
Dia Mirza lauds Anubhav Sinha’s ‘Assi’, calls it ‘one of the most important films of our times’
Monday, 16 March 2026
Oscars 2026: Priyanka Chopra presents Best International Feature Film with Javier Bardem, latter says, ‘Free Palestine
Friday, 5 December 2025
Cassette tapes are making a comeback. Yes, really
For a supposedly obsolete music format, audio cassette sales seem to be set on fast forward at the moment.
Cassettes are fragile, inconvenient and relatively low-quality in the sound they produce – yet we’re increasingly seeing them issued by major artists.
Is it simply a case of nostalgia?
Press play
The cassette format had its heyday during the mid-1980s, when tens of millions were sold each year.
However, the arrival of the compact disc (CDs) in the 1990s, and digital formats and streaming in the 2000s, consigned cassettes to museums, second-hand shops and landfill. The format was well and truly dead until the past decade, when it started to reenter the mainstream.
According to the British Phonographic Industry, in 2022 cassette sales in the United Kingdom reached their highest level since 2003. We’re seeing a similar trend in the United States, where cassette sales were up 204.7% in the first quarter of this year (a total of 63,288 units).
A number of major artists, including Taylor Swift, Billie Eilish, Lady Gaga, Charli XCX, the Weeknd and Royel Otis have all released material on cassette. Taylor Swift’s latest album, The Life of a Showgirl, is available in 18 versions across CDs, vinyl and cassettes.
The physical product offerings for Taylor Swift’s latest album, The Life of a Showgirl. Taylor SwiftMany news article will tell you a “cassette revival” is well underway. But is it?
I would argue what we’re seeing now is not a full-blown revival. After all, the unit sales still pale in comparison to the peak in the late 1990s, when some 83 million were reportedly sold in one year in the UK alone.
Instead, I see this as a form of rediscovery – or for young listeners, discovery.
Time to pause
Recorded music today is mostly heard through digital channels such as Spotify and social media.
Meanwhile, cassettes break and jam quite easily. Choosing a particular song might involve several minutes of fast forwarding, or rewinding, which clogs the playback head and weakens the tape over time. The audio quality is low, and comes with a background hiss.
Why resurrect this clunky old technology when everything you could want is a languid tap away on your phone?
Analogue formats such as cassettes and vinyl are not prized for their sound, but for the tactility and sense of connection they provide. For some listeners, cassettes and LPs allow for a tangible connection with their favourite artist.
There’s an old joke about vinyl records that people get into them for the expense and the inconvenience. The same could be said for cassette tapes: our renewed interest in them could be read as a questioning (if not rejection) of the blandly smooth, ubiquitous and inescapable digital world.
The joy of the cassette is its “thingness”, its “hereness” – as opposed to an intangible string of electrical impulses on a far-flung corporate-owned server.
The inconvenience and effort of using cassettes may even make for more focused listening – something the invisible, ethereal and “instantly there” flow of streaming doesn’t demand of us.
People may also choose to buy cassettes for the nostalgia, for their “retro” cool aesthetic, to be able to own music (instead of streaming it), and to make cheap and quick recordings.
Mix tape mania
Cassettes did (and still do) have the whiff of the rebel about them. As researcher Mike Glennon explains, they give consumers the power to customise and “reconfigure recorded sound, thus inserting themselves into the production process”.
From the 1970s, blank cassettes were a cheap way for anyone to record anything. They offered limitless combinations and juxtapositions of music and sounds.
The mix tape became an art form, with carefully selected track sequences and handmade covers. Albums could even be chopped up and rearranged according to preference.
Consumers could also happily copy commercial vinyl and cassettes, as well as music from radio, TV and live gigs. In fact, the first single ever released on cassette, Bow Wow Wow’s C30,C60,C90,Go! (1980), extolled the joys and righteousness of home taping as a way of sticking it to the man – or in this case the music industry.
Unsuprisingly, the recording industry saw cassettes and home taping as a threat to its copyright-based income and struck back.
In 1981, the British Phonographic Industry launched its infamous “home taping is killing music” campaign. But the campaign’s somewhat pompous tone led to it being mercilessly mocked and largely ignored by the public.
A chance to rewind
The idea of the blank cassette as both a symbol of self-expression and freedom from corporate control continues to persist. And today, it’s not only corporate control consumers have to dodge, but also the dominance of digital streaming platforms.
Far from being just a pleasant yearning sensation, nostalgia for older technology is layered, complex and often political.
Cassettes are cheap and easy to make, so many artists past and present have used them as merchandise to sell or give away at gigs and fan events. For hardcore fans, they are solid tokens of their dedication – and many fans will buy multiple formats as a form of collecting.
Cassettes won’t replace streaming services anytime soon, but that’s not the point. What they offer is a way of listening that goes against the grain of the digital hegemony we find ourselves in. That is, until the tape snaps.![]()
Peter Hoar, Senior Lecturer, School of Communications Studies, Auckland University of Technology
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Tuesday, 2 December 2025
Hema Malini reveals one of her most beautiful memories with Dharmendra
Thursday, 16 October 2025
Selena Gomez talks about her hope to have children 'one day'
Friday, 3 October 2025
Lily Collins 'loves' being compared to Sarah Jessica Parker on 'Emily in Paris'
Sunday, 10 August 2025
Arjun Rampal is ‘super proud’ of his love Gabriella’s achievement as her manifested dream comes true
Thursday, 3 July 2025
Kiara Advani's silence speaks volumes even after 2 years of 'Satyaprem Ki Katha' release
Mumbai, (IANS) It has already been two years since "Satyaprem Ki Katha" starring Kiara Advani and Kartik Aaryan released in the cinema halls.
Wednesday, 28 May 2025
Whatever happened to Barbie’s feet? Podiatrists studied 2,750 dolls to find out
What do you get when a group of podiatrists (and shoe lovers) team up with a Barbie doll collector? A huge opportunity to explore how Barbie reflects changes in the types of shoes women wear.
It all started with the blockbuster Barbie movie in 2023. In particular, we discussed a scene when Barbie was distressed to find she didn’t have to walk on tip-toes. She could walk on flat feet.
Soon, we had designed a research project to study the feet of Barbie dolls on the market from her launch in 1959 to June 2024. That’s 2,750 Barbies in all.
How this scene from the Barbie movie inspired our research project.
In our study published today, we found a general shift away from Barbie’s iconic feet – on tip-toes, ready to slip on high-heeled shoes – to flat feet for flat shoes.
We found, like many women today, Barbie “chooses” her footwear depending on what she has to do – flats for skateboarding or working as an astronaut but heels when dressing up for a night out.
We also question whether high heels that Barbie and some women choose to wear are really as bad for your health as we’ve been led to believe.
The movie that sparked the #barbiefootchallenge
Barbie’s feet – in particular her tip-toe posture – triggered TikTok’s #barbiefoottrend and #barbiefootchallenge. When the movie was released, fans made videos to re-create how Barbie stepped out of her high-heeled shoes, yet stayed on tip-toes. Margot Robbie, the Australian actor who played Barbie in the movie, was even interviewed about it.
Despite the obvious interest in Barbie’s iconic foot stance, there had been no specific research on her feet or choice of footwear.
So our research team decided to look at how Barbie’s feet had changed over the years to reflect the kinds of shoes she’s worn, and how that ties in with her different jobs and growing diversity.
What we did
One of our research team has an extensive Barbie doll collection. This guided our search through online catalogues to examine the foot positions of 2,750 Barbie dolls.
Our custom-made audit tool allowed us to classify Barbie’s foot posture as tip-toe (known as equinus) or flat.
We also looked at when the dolls were made, whether they were diverse or inclusive (for instance, represented people with disabilities), and whether Barbie was employed.
We were surprised that Barbie’s high-heel wearing foot posture was no longer the norm. Barbie does, however, still wear high heels when dressed for fun.
We found, just like Barbie in the movie, she’s made a transition from high heels (equinus foot posture) to flat shoes (flat foot posture), especially when employed.
We suggest this mirrors broader societal changes. This includes how women choose footwear according to how much they have to move in the day, and away from only wearing high heels in some workplaces.
Barbie ditched her high-heel wearing foot posture as she climbed the career ladder. In the 1960s, all Barbies tip-toed around, but by the 2020s, only 40% did.
Meanwhile, her resume expanded, going from not being represented as having a job to 33% representing real-world jobs.
She was an astronaut in 1965, before the Moon landing, and a surgeon when the vast majority of doctors in the United States were men.
US laws changed in the late 80s, supporting women to own businesses without a man’s permission. And Barbie mirrored this.
She started trading stilettos for flats and strutting into male-dominated fields. Barbie didn’t just break the mould, she kicked it off with low-heeled shoes.
Barbie also evolved to better reflect the population. We found a moderate link between her having flat feet and representing diversity or disability.
For example, she chooses a stable flat shoe when using a prosthetic limb. But it was also great to see her break footwear stereotypes by wearing high heels when using a wheelchair.
Are high heels so bad?
Some celebrities, the media and public health advice warn against wearing high heels. But we know women (and Barbie) choose to wear them from time to time. In fact it’s discussions about women’s shoe choices that also gave us the idea for this fun research.
For instance, health professionals often link high-heeled shoes with developing bunions, knee osteoarthritis, back pain or being injured.
However bunions, and knee and back pain are just as common in people who don’t wear high heels.
Studies exploring the risk of high heels are also often performed with people who don’t usually wear high heels, or during competitive sports.
We couldn’t find any investigations exploring the long-term effect of wearing high heels.
Research does show that high-heeled shoes make you walk slower and make it harder to balance.
But high heels have different features, such as heel height or shape. So different types of high heels probably present a different risk. That risk also probably differs from person to person, including how often they walk in heels.
Lessons for all shoe lovers
But back to Barbie and lessons we learned. We know Barbie is a social construct that reflects some aspects of the real world. She chooses heels when fashion is the goal and flat shoes when needing speed and stability.
Rather than demonise high heels, messages about footwear need to evolve to acknowledge choice, and trust women can balance their own priorities and needs.
As Barbie’s journey shows, women already make thoughtful shoe choices based on comfort, function and identity.![]()
Cylie Williams, Professor, School of Primary and Allied Health Care, Monash University and Helen Banwell, Senior lecturer in Podiatry, University of South Australia
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Sunday, 13 April 2025
Post-apocalyptic 'The Last of Us' more timely than ever, say stars
Friday, 21 February 2025
Shakira kicks off first world tour in seven years


Monday, 10 February 2025
How to watch a scary movie with your child
Carol Newall, Macquarie University
On Halloween, the cinemas and TV channels are filled with horror movies. But what should you do if you have a young child who wants to watch too?
Many of us have a childhood memory of a movie that gave us nightmares and took us to a new level of fear. Maybe this happened by accident. Or maybe it happened because an adult guardian didn’t choose the right movie for your age.
For me it was The Exorcist. It was also the movie that frightened my mum when she was a youngster. She had warned me not to watch it. But I did. I then slept outside my parents’ room for months for fear of demonic possession.
Parents often ask about the right age for “scary” movies. A useful resource is The Australian Council of Children and the Media, which provides colour-coded age guides for movies rated by child development professionals.
Let’s suppose, though, that you have made the decision to view a scary movie with your child. What are some good rules of thumb in managing this milestone in your child’s life?
Watch with a parent or a friend
Research into indirect experiences can help us understand what happens when a child watches a scary movie. Indirect fear experiences can involve watching someone else look afraid or hurt in a situation or verbal threats (such as “the bogeyman with sharp teeth will come at midnight for children and eat them”).
Children depend very much on indirect experiences for information about danger in the world. Scary movies are the perfect example of these experiences. Fortunately, research also shows that indirectly acquired fears can be reduced by two very powerful sources of information: parents and peers.
In one of our recent studies, we showed that when we paired happy adult faces with a scary situation, children showed greater fear reduction than if they experienced that situation on their own. This suggests that by modelling calm and unfazed behaviour, or potentially even expressing enjoyment about being scared during a movie (notice how people burst into laughter after a jump scare at theatres?), parents may help children be less fearful.
There is also some evidence that discussions with friends can help reduce fear. That said, it’s important to remember that children tend to become more similar to each other in threat evaluation after discussing a scary or ambiguous event with a close friend. So it might be helpful to discuss a scary movie with a good friend who enjoys such movies and can help the child discuss their worries in a positive manner.
Get the facts
How a parent discusses the movie with their child is also important. Children do not have enough experience to understand the statistical probability of dangerous events occurring in the world depicted on screen. For example, after watching Jaws, a child might assume that shark attacks are frequent and occur on every beach.
Children need help to contextualise the things they see in movies. One way of discussing shark fears after viewing Jaws might be to help your child investigate the statistics around shark attacks (the risk of being attacked is around 1 in 3.7 million) and to acquire facts about shark behaviours (such as that they generally do not hunt humans).
These techniques are the basis of cognitive restructuring, which encourages fact-finding rather than catastrophic thoughts to inform our fears. It is also an evidence-based technique for managing excessive anxiety in children and adults.
Exposure therapy
If your child is distressed by a movie, a natural reaction is to prevent them watching it again. I had this unfortunate experience when my seven-year-old daughter accidentally viewed Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, which featured a monster with knives for limbs who ate children’s eyeballs for recreation.
My first instinct was to prevent my daughter watching the movie again. However, one of the most effective ways of reducing excessive and unrealistic fear is to confront it again and again until that fear diminishes into boredom. This is called exposure therapy.
To that end, we subjected her and ourselves to the same movie repeatedly while modelling calm and some hilarity - until she was bored. We muted the sound and did silly voice-overs and fart noises for the monster. We drew pictures of him with a moustache and in a pair of undies. Thankfully, she no longer identifies this movie as one that traumatised her.
This strategy is difficult to execute because it requires tolerating your child’s distress. In fact, it is a technique that is the least used by mental health professionals because of this.
However, when done well and with adequate support (you may need an experienced psychologist if you are not confident), it is one of the most effective techniques for reducing fear following a scary event like an accidental horror movie.
Fear is normal
Did I ever overcome my fear of The Exorcist? It took my mother checking my bed, laughing with me about the movie, and re-affirming that being scared is okay and normal for me to do so (well done mum!)
Fear is a normal and adaptive human response. Some people, including children, love being scared. There is evidence that volunteering to be scared can lead to a heightened sense of accomplishment for some of us, because it provides us with a cognitive break from our daily stress and worries.
Hopefully, you can help ensure that your child’s first scary movie experience is a memorable, enjoyable one.![]()
Carol Newall, Senior Lecturer in Early Childhood, Macquarie University
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Friday, 3 January 2025
Australia has a remarkable history of outdoor cinema. Here’s why Netflix will never beat it
In December 1916, as war raged in Europe, an entrepreneurial pearl diver took a chance on some bleeding-edge technology and installed an outdoor cinema in one of the country’s most isolated towns – Broome, Western Australia.
Ted Hunter didn’t know much about cinemas. Not many people did at the turn of the 20th century. But that didn’t stop him beginning what has become a long history of outdoor cinema exhibition in Australia.
Sun Pictures in Broome opened with Jack Hulcup’s 1913 silent film Kissing Cup, in which a “squire’s jockey” escapes kidnappers and gallops across the Isle of Wight in time to win the race. Huzzah.
More than a century later, Sun Pictures still stands – the world’s oldest operating open-air cinema.
While the Guinness World Record is a nice-to-have, Sun Pictures’ survival has been ensured not by the latest Hollywood blockbuster, but by what the cinema offers locals and visitors each night: a moviegoing experience that is at once unique and familiar.
Segregation at the movies
Before opening Sun Pictures, Hunter made his money as a master pearler. Pearl shells, which were turned into mother-of-pearl buttons, transformed the economic life of Broome in the late 1800s. Despite being so isolated, the pearling industry brought great riches to the town, while also entrenching workers along racial lines.
Racial segregation was firmly present in Broome’s “picture garden” for the first half of the 20th century. White Australians and their kids were seated in the middle, with Chinese and Japanese patrons behind them. Malays, Filipinos and First Nations people entered separately and were seated at the sides, or remained standing.
Aboriginal rights activist Charles Perkins would later directly challenge the segregation of Australian cinemas in his 1965 “Freedom Ride” throughout rural New South Wales.
Outdoors, from the comfort of your car
My colleague Tess Van Hemert and I have spent the past three years researching the cultures and practices of cinemagoing and how cinema sites shape this experience.
Outdoor cinemas – whether they be the picture gardens of Broome or the Yatala Drive-In – function as special sites of culture, connection and community.
During COVID lockdowns, social distancing measures particularly invigorated drive-in cinema attendance. But even after lockdowns ended, David Kilderry, the long-time operator of Melbourne’s Lunar Drive-in, remains clear on the appeal:
You could open up the car or even sit outside it and if cool, hop back inside and snuggle up in private. […] You can talk about the film as it runs. Kids can ask questions and parents can explain. Patrons can use phones during the film without interrupting others, and babies and infants won’t annoy other customers […] The drive-in has always been more than just a movie experience. It’s where the two icons of the 20th century come together: the motion picture and the automobile.
While the Lunar was shuttered in 2023, Kilderry said this decision was less about the 400,000 annual patrons and more about the land tax implications of keeping a site of that size viable.
But it’s not all doom and gloom for drive-ins. Kilderry notes many operators now own their land, rather than trying to constantly negotiate leases.
There are currently about 12 drive-ins running regularly across Australia, with a few more opening for the occasional screening. New drive-in developments are also planned for Perth, pending local consultations.
Connecting with others and the environement
Beyond drive-ins, Sun Pictures is in good company with a range of locations around the world that actively celebrate outdoor cinema.
During the European summer, open-air cinemas are popular in countries such as Germany and Italy. In Bologna, three large piazzas – Piazza Maggiore, Arena Puccini and Piazzetta Pasolini – are set up as cinemas for the annual Cinema Ritrovato festival.
Closer to home, the University of Western Australia’s Somerville Auditorium, framed by a “tree cathedral” of mature Norfolk pines, has long been a place of unique outdoor cinema experiences.
Perth Festival film programmer Tom Vincent understands the distinct pleasures of outdoor cinemagoing:
The m ost memorable cinemagoing anywhere will always engage the audience’s sense of place, usually through architecture and experience design. […] It includes a natural sensory mix that includes river breezes, ambient sounds and wildlife, alongside a sense of grandeur and good programming. Good outdoor cinema says ‘look, we are here, engage all your senses’.
But while seasonal outdoor cinemas such as the Moonlight Cinemas continue to operate around Australia – alongside local council park screenings – openings of new permanent outdoor cinemas are rare.
Phoebe Condon, manager of the new permanent Dendy Powerhouse Outdoor Cinema in Brisbane, explained how the site positions itself as a high-value leisure experience:
It’s more than just a night at the movies – it’s a destination […] What truly sets us apart from other outdoor cinemas is our focus on creating an elevated, year-round experience.
This framing of outdoor cinema as an “elevated experience” is vital. While the cost of cinemagoing has come up as a key consideration in our research (especially in the current economic context) the industry is quick to remind consumers it remains affordable compared with other out-of-home arts and leisure experiences such as live sports, music, comedy and theatre.
Despite legitimate cost-of-living concerns, census data continues to show cinemagoing as the nation’s most popular cultural activity.
Why Neflix can’t replace cinemas
Our research on Australian cinemagoing supports broader arguments for a more holistic understanding of cinema’s value in society. Cinemagoing shouldn’t be compared to your Netflix subscription, but to other leisure activities people get up and leave the house for.
As the International Union of Cinemas notes, “films reflect national culture or subcultures and the wider world to the audience; they frame moral and political discussions; and they entertain and educate”.
We also know cinemagoing has never stood still. Ever since Hunter took a chance on outdoor cinema in 1916, these spaces have evolved constantly to respond to new challenges and shifting appetites.
But one aspect remains the same: whether sat under the stars, or parked in a lot, Australians continue to see the value in leaving their homes to connect and share in new stories on the big screen.![]()
Ruari Elkington, Senior Lecturer in Creative Industries & Chief Investigator at QUT Digital Media Research Centre (DMRC), Queensland University of Technology
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Monday, 22 July 2024
Rakul Preet shares her mantra of energy, good looks: 'Keep my karma clean, focus on my job'
Wednesday, 3 January 2024
Chekhov called The Seagull ‘a comedy’. The Sydney Theatre Company seems to forget it was a tragedy, too
Prudence Upton/Sydney Theatre Company Alexander Howard, University of SydneyWhat is comedy?
This is the question I kept coming back to while watching Andrew Upton’s adaptation of Anton Chekhov’s The Seagull, which opened to warm applause – and a touch of controversy – at the Sydney Theatre Company on Saturday.
Theatre scholar Eric Weitz notes that comedy is a genre “with characteristic features”.
Laughter, humour, distraction. These are some of the terms associated with comedy.
Comedy is also restless. As Weitz acknowledges, comedy “embraces a range of subgenres” and often “cross-pollinates with other genres to form the likes of tragicomedy”.
These cross-pollinations can often confuse.
Consider the very first performance of The Seagull, subtitled “a comedy in four acts”.
The notorious performance at the Alexandrinsky Theatre in Saint Petersburg on October 17 1896 was an unmitigated failure. The audience jeered; the reviews were scathing.
Chekhov reads The Seagull with the Moscow Art Theatre company, 1898. Wikimedia CommonsIn a letter sent to the publisher Aleksey Suvorin the very next day, a wounded Chekhov declared he would never again “write plays or have them acted”.
The reason why the premiere went so badly has to do with audience expectations. As essayist Janet Malcolm explains, there were special circumstances on the night in question.
The performance was part of a benefit event for E. I. Levkeeva, a popular Russian comic actress, “and so the audience was largely made up of Levkeeva fans, who expected hilarity and, to their disbelief and growing outrage, got Symbolism.”
Primed for broad comedy, the audience didn’t know what to do with Chehkov’s groundbreaking spin on the genre, which broke with established realist modes and placed emphasis on metaphorical imagery and allegorical tropes.
While the play, which speaks to the themes of art and desire, has many funny moments, it simultaneously foregrounds discussions of mortality and depictions of madness. And it ends with a suicide.
Moreover, Chekhov’s play is one where, as the academic James Loehlin writes
the old win out over the young, where hope and the impulse for change are crushed, in part through their own fragility and lack of conviction, but in part by the proficient ruthlessness of the seasoned old campaigners, their elders.
I mention this because the serious and subtle aspects of The Seagull – many of which continue to resonate today – can get lost in modern takes on Chekhov’s play.
This is true of the Sydney Theatre Company’s production. Adapted by Upton and directed by Imara Savage, this version showcases the sound work of Max Lyandvert and features a meta-theatrical set designed by David Fleischer.
The adaptation is set in contemporary rural Australia and uses anglicised character names. Upton and Savage stick with Chekhov’s formal structure, but privilege the comedic at the expense of pretty much everything else when it comes to delivery.
This has ramifications for how the adaptation pans out.
Success beckons, tragedy befalls
The play comprises four acts and centres on four characters who mirror each other.
Constantine (Harry Greenwood) and Boris (Toby Schmitz) are writers. Boris is famous. Constantine – a college dropout who fancies his chances as an avant-gardist – is most definitely not.
Irina (Sigrid Thornton) and Nina (Mabel Li) are actors. Irina, who is Constantine’s mother and Boris’s lover, is a renowned stage star. The ingénue Nina, who is dating Constantine, desperately wants to make it.
Success beckons, but tragedy eventually befalls Nina – who leaves Constantine for Boris – in the two year gap between the play’s third and fourth acts.
These characters are joined by several others, including Irina’s ailing landowner brother Peter (Sean O'Shea), and a depressive young goth, Masha (Megan Wilding). With the exception of one, every character in the play is morose.
With the exception of one, every character in the play is morose. Prudence Upton/Sydney Theatre CompanyThe first act is structured around an abortive performance of an experimental theatre piece Constantine has worked up. Nina and Boris grow close in the second, while Irina holds court. At the start of the third act, it is revealed Constantine has tried to take his own life. Boris threatens to leave Irina for Nina. Hilarity ensues as Irina tries to win him back.
The atmosphere that the Sydney Theatre Company creative team establishes in each of these acts is lighthearted and largely humorous. Indeed, there are some moments, as when a gravely ill Peter convulses on the ground in the third act, when the onstage action almost tips over into outright farce.
As Chekhov himself insisted, different types of comedy – including farce – had roles to play in The Seagull. However, the overarching tonal emphasis in this adaptation causes problems in the play’s last act, which is set indoors during the Australian winter.
Peter, not long for the world, spends his time talking about how he regrets his entire life. The other characters fob him off. Constantine has made headway as a writer, but is deeply unhappy. He pines after Nina, who dropped off the radar somewhere between acts.
Time passes, and trivialities exchanged. A bedraggled Nina reappears. The story she tells is one of sorrow and woe. A genuinely moving moment, the speech is delivered with real affective intensity – undoubtedly the high point of the production.
However, the tonal chasm between the final act and the preceding three is simply too great.
In keeping with Chehkov’s original, comedy ultimately gives way to tragedy, but something seems to have been lost along the way.
The Seagull is at the Sydney Theatre Company until December 16.
If this article has raised issues for you, or if you’re concerned about someone you know, call Lifeline on 13 11 14.![]()
Alexander Howard, Senior Lecturer, Discipline of English, University of Sydney
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Monday, 11 September 2023
Past Lives: a luxurious and lingering portrayal of lost love and identity in the Korean diaspora

Friday, 21 July 2023
Five Senses Theatre's Vital Acting Classes in Andheri and Acting School in Mumbai

Tuesday, 14 June 2016
Don't panic! Carry a towel for your safety
- A still from the movie The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy in which two prominent characters (right) of the novel can be seen carrying a towel — the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have.
- When the Galactic Hyperspace Planning Council was all set to demolish Earth to build a hyperspatial express, Arthur Dent was busy hyperventilating. Just earlier in the day, he was lying in front of a big yellow bulldozer in a vain bid to protect his house from being demolished to build a bypass. It was the town council’s idea to come up with the said structure. Ford Prefect, on the other hand, was succeeding in maintaining a semblance of calm as all this was transpiring.
- Prefect was from Betelgeuse. And he had his towel with him. “The towel”,) The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, says, “is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have.” It goes on to expound that other than wrapping it around yourself for warmth, you can use the towel to wave as a distress signal when, for instance, you are trying to escape from the Earth in a hurry.
- May 25 is celebrated the world over as Towel Day. This is the day when froods carry with them their towel for all the universe to see, and proclaim categorically what amazingly put together people they are. These are fans of Douglas Adams and his enormously intelligent and supremely witty oeuvre. Ask them what is the secret of life, the universe and everything, and they’ll unabashedly answer: 42. I know, because I do the same.
- Douglas Noel Adams was born on March 11, 1952, in Cambridge, UK. He famously joked that he was the first DNA to come out of Cambridge, referring to Watson and Crick’s discovery, and subsequent anno-uncement of the structure of deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA) in 1953.
- Douglas Adams was tall. Even as a young boy atte-nding Brentwood School in Essex, he was nearly six feet tall. He often remarked that on class trips, his tea-chers wouldn’t say, “Meet under the clock tower,” or “Meet under the war mem-orial,” but, “Meet under Adams.”
- In 1971, an 18-year-old Douglas Adams was lying drunk in the fields of Innsbruck, Austria. He was travelling through Europe with a stolen copy of The Hitchhikers Guide to Europe. “I hadn’t read Europe in Five Dollars a Day,” he confessed years later, “I wasn’t in that financial league.” Enervated, looking up at the night sky, he thought someone ought to write The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and then promptly forgot about it.
- Until six years later. He was then at Cambridge, ostensibly studying for a degree in English, but mainly trying rather unsuccessfully to get a foot into Footlights. He missed a lot of deadlines on assignments, a trait which would be his for the rest of his life. “I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by,” he once remarked.
- Slowly and unsteadily, after a string of unsuccessful jobs (chicken shed cleaner, lift operator to a wealthy Saudi businessman), his writing career took off in the same fashion: slowly and unsteadily. The drunken thought that he first had while lying stargazing in Innsbruck revisited him, and he wrote The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy as a BBC Radio Series. People loved it, and gradually enough it was adapted into various formats, including stage shows, novels, TV series, a computer game, and a feature film.
- Not just a brilliant mind, Douglas Adams had a compassionate heart as well. He was a gallant crusader for Save The Rhino International, and once climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro in a rhino suit (while missing some deadlines) to raise awareness for the cause. The aye-aye lemur, the Chinese dolphin baiji, and the kakapo from New Zealand are the other animals that Douglas Adams travelled far to see and wrote about in The Last Chance to See.
- A larger-than-life man, Douglas Adams died of a heart attack in 2001. He was 49. Two weeks after his death, on May 25, 2001, Towel Day was organised for the first time. Descri-bing the choice of the day to pay tribute to the much-loved writer, towelday.org states: As the universe that Douglas Adams created was full of absurdity and randomness, it may be a fitting choice after all. Every year since then, Douglas Adams-o-philes openly carry their towels with them to work, to libraries, and just about anywhere. Notably, last year, astronaut Samantha Cristoforetti read aloud a section from The Hitchhik-er’s Guide to the Galaxy from the International Sp-ace Station, and tweeted an image of her carrying her towel and wearing a T-shi-rt with the slogan, “Don’t Panic and carry a towel.”
- Towels are a good thing. Roosta knows. He’s accompanying Zaphod Beeblebrox to Frogstar — the most totally evil place in the Universe. The yellow stripes on his towel are rich in protein, the green ones have Vitamins B and C, and the pink flowers in it have wheat germ extracts. The brown stains are Bar-B-Q sauce. And the other end of the towel has antidepressants. Needless to say, he spends quite some time in routine towel maintenance.
- So there you have it. The nitty-gritty of Towel Day. Bring out yours, and wave it around. Who knows, you might just hitch a hike on a passing flying saucer. Or at the very least you’ll let the world know what a hoopy person you are. Which in hitchhiking slang translates to: There’s a frood who really knows where his towel is.
- The author teaches chemistry at Women’s Christian College, Chennai. Source: http://www.asianage.com/: The Asian Age


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