20-11: 40 things* I’ve loved in 40 years

18 Dec

*Not people! Read 30-21 and 40-31.

I’m finding this listicle marathon to be quite a cathartic experience. It’s actually a really nice way to reflect on your life. Highly recommend. Anyway, shit’s getting real now. We’re down to my foundations.

20. Fleabag

Pheobe Waller-Bridge is as central to my understanding of modern womanhood as Florence Welch. How did she create such a despicable character whom you can’t help but root for? How did she make a work of art that holds humour and heartbreak in the same breath? How did her brain give birth to a character as perfect as the Hot Priest? And then how did she have the audacity to cast Andrew Scott in the role? I don’t know the answer to any of these questions. I can only give thanks.

It should come as no surprise that I love this series given the meta nature of it. I love how Fleabag breaks the fourth wall and talks to you through the lens. I also love the pacing of it, the way her emotional depth is revealed episode by episode. Season 2 of Fleabag was one of those transformational experiences that pulled me from the fog of new motherhood back into the world. I wrote an essay about it here.

19. Coldplay

There was quite a long period of time in my life when I felt that Coldplay releasing a new album would automatically make everything okay. There was a time when Coldplay the band was bigger than the idea of Chris Martin and his almost aggressive vitality and exuberance. When Parachutes was the greatest British soft rock debut in years. When A Rush of Blood to the Head proved that sophomore albums don’t always suck. I have this vivid memory of listening to Sparks in the car with my Dad once — such a small everyday memory to have this level of clarity. We were driving back from the supermarket and my dad was so obviously in awe of the music. Naturally, I was also hooked by association.

Viva la Vida was the bridge that led them from what they were to what they are now — this kind of joy-generating pop-dance-rock hybrid. I don’t connect with their recent music as much, but I was fully on board until Mylo Xyloto, and since then I’ve dabbled. I saw them live on the Mylo Xyloto tour and it was the most joyous thing. I’d been to one arena concert before (U2), but this took the collective experience to another level. Rainbow butterfly confetti canons, giant beach balls, fireworks. I was right at the front with one of my best pals and we had the time of our lives. I’ve seen them twice more since then and the experience is the same. They’re one of the few artists who have clocked the fact that live music is about us (the fans) as much as it is about them.

In 2009 Coldplay performed at a relief concert following the Black Saturday fires in Victoria. They hit particularly close to home for me because my mum lives in the Yarra Valley, and my brother, sister and nieces were visiting her that day. They had lunch at a winery that burned to the ground 3 hours later. My brother managed to evacuate with his kids before the highway closed, but my sister, her now-husband and my mum waited till the last possible moment, and then drove down winding backroads through the bush in an ash-filled post-apocalyptic world. They had soaking wet woollen blankets in the boot of their car to use in case a fire overcame them. It was terrifying. So yeah, seeing Chris Martin play Fix You and give himself over to a crowd seeking connection and reassurance in the wake of such a horrible event, that’s stayed with me.

18. Bluey

I feel so lucky to be a parent in the age of Bluey. Funny that it takes a family of Blue Heelers to show the best of humanity. In our house, we have no time limit for Bluey watching. I am always happy for it to be switched on. I’m always delighted to re-watch my favourite episodes. The first episode that made me cry was Baby Race. The second was Onesie. The third was Relax. The best ones are the ones that make me laugh and cry, though. Like Dance Off and Fairies. The episode I’ve made the most people watch is Cricket. The final episode, The Sign, is profound. Bandit and Chilli make me want to be a better parent. Can’t wait for the movie to come out in 2027. I’ll be there, with or without my kids.

17. K-pop Demon Hunters

I’ve already talked about how this movie is the reason SOTM exists. I don’t know that I need to say too much more about it, but it does make me reflect on the nature of global pop culture phenomenons of this scale. When something becomes this big this quickly, seemingly out of nowhere, I’m always curious to understand what contributing factors made it hit so hard for so many millions of people all over the world.

With K-pop Demon Hunters we have:

The foundational context of K-pop — this film wouldn’t have found the success it has if BIGBANG didn’t do the groundwork first, or if BTS and Black Pink hadn’t gone global a decade earlier. There was a narrative foundation to build upon.
Streaming and virality — if streaming and social media platforms didn’t exist, K-pop Demon Hunters might have struggled to find its audience. Social platforms amplified word of mouth recommendations. I was influenced to watch KPDH myself because my favourite Formula 1 podcaster posted it on his instagram story. Streaming platforms made it easy for people to dive in. The democratisation of both reach and access fanned the flame of virality.
Cultural appetite — we’re watching the moral disintegration of America in slow motion, and consequently, we’re also experiencing a slow and subtle weakening of the US’s soft power. In other words, the “land of the free” is losing its hegemonic grip on our attention and the world is seeking alternative voices and stories. K-pop Demon Hunters provided.
Age appropriate hooks — for kids we have silly demons, Derpy, the ‘choo choo’ joke. For tweens we have dance moves, outfits, “couch couch couch”, lyrics like: “heels, nails, blade, mascara. Fit check for my napalm era.” For teens we have popcorn abs, a realistic depiction of social media use, “rujinu”. For adults we have shameful secrets, childhood trauma, cognitive behavioural therapy. Lol. There’s something for everyone in here.
Emotional context coupling — I’ve already written about this but: good music + strong narrative = increased emotional impact. The songs are bangers, the story structure is familiar and easy for the brain to latch onto. Pair the two together? That’s a brain worm.
Narrative layering — the story of the lead songwriter and singing voice of Rumi, Ejae, is equally as compelling as that of Rumi herself. It proved a gift to media following the early success of the film. She was an ex K-pop trainee, eventually rejected for being too old. She turned to songwriting, giving up hope of the spotlight. She ended up writing Golden, Your Idol, This is What it Sounds Like, How it’s Done — hit after hit. The directors got so used to hearing her voice on the demos they invited her to sing Rumi’s part. Now she’s on the cover of Time magazine as a breakout star and releasing her own music. A story behind a story.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

16. Hyperion

One of the earliest recorded works of fiction in English is the Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer. It was written in the late 14th century and it’s significant to the canon of English literature because of its structure, character development and social realism. The frame for the story is a pilgrimmage: a group of pilgrims meet at an inn and agree to travel onward together, each sharing stories.

600 years later in 1989, horror and sci fi novelist Dan Simmons used the same narrative frame to write his sci-fi epic, Hyperion. It also follows a group of pilgrims on a journey — this time through space on a ship that’s also a giant tree — to the planet Hyperion and its mysterious Time Tombs. They travel to confront a monster known as The Shrike who appears to be the catalyst for the end of days/final reckoning. The stories they share are confessions and vary in genre from horror to war-time saga, from noir to tragedy.

The sheer imagination required to bring this story to life is unbelievable to me. The concrete hold he must have had on his story mechanics to build a novel that takes place across space and time and isn’t riddled with plot holes... Honestly I don’t understand how a story like this can be born of a single person’s brain. I re-read it again this year and was still in awe at the scope and ambition of it. I don’t feel like authors try things this lofty anymore?

15. The Princess Bride

This is a sad week to write about my second favourite movie of all time because its creator, Rob Reiner, just died in tragic circumstances. I loved this movie as a kid and I love it still. I feel like there’s a triad of films from this era, and you can tell the type of person by the one they pick as their favourite: The Neverending Story, Labyrinth, The Princess Bride. For me, the never-ending story is existential terror, and the labyrinth is creepy af. I’d much rather battle with rodents of unusual size or 6-fingered men. This film is so silly and so beautiful, so irreverant and yet so touching?

I didn’t read the original book by William Golding until I was an adult, and I think it could be even better than the movie. A masterpiece. The metafictional frame is so believable that I genuinely thought S. Morgenstern was the original creator. I do love to be thoroughly tricked by an author.

14. Succession

I think this is the perfect TV show. Perfectly written. Perfectly cast. Perfectly shot. Perfectly edited. Perfectly scored. Perfectly paced. It’s earth-shatteringly good. Hilarious and horrible. It shows you how easily humans are warped by circumstance. It shows you how quick we are to forgive and forget bad behaviour in the face of money, fame, power, talent. It shows you the worst of humanity and inexplicably makes you fall in love with what you see. You as the viewer will find yourself forgiving the awful characters over and over again because their flaws are just so compelling.

13. Neko Case

Neko Case is my spirit animal. She’s an alt country queen who lives in Vermont. At the end of my favourite album, This Tornado Loves You, is a 12 minute recording of frogs in a swamp. She’s a spoken word poet as much as a musician. She’s fierce and unapologetic and a bit angry. My sister discovered Neko when we were 21. Ever since, whenever I feel fragile or exposed, I put on my neko forever playlist and it soothes me. I’ve seen her in concert twice. Once at the Powerstation, when she wore black leggings with skeleton legs printed onto them. The second time at the spiegeltent during the Auckland Arts Festival, my first outing following the birth of my son. I recorded her singing my sister’s favourite song, Hex.

12. Dune

My dad was very into this book, and so I read it, and I was very into it, too. Sci fi is just philosophy in space. It’s a way of re-framing humanity, showing us our flaws from a fresh perspective, challenging our biases. Frank Herbert wrote Dune as a critique of the idea of a Messiah. He meant for Paul Atreides to be a warning about what might happen if we ever willingingly handed over moral responsibility to a charismatic leader, but people misread it. They saw Paul Atreides as a hero and saviour, they saw his decision to choose the path of power as morally correct, even though he knew the suffering that would come from it. It’s all so depressing and prescient isn’t it.

Villeneuve’s films are incredible, in my opinion. They absolutely do the book, and Herbert’s orginal idea, justice.

11. The Fifth Element

I’ve already written about my love for this film. It’s the reason my family always use a robot voice when we say, “do you want some more?” It’s the reason we shout, “Aziz, light!” When we want a light turned on. And “gimme the cash!” When it’s time to pay up. Look. I’m tired and I don’t want to write anymore so let me just share clips. There are so many clips.