Latest news with #femaleFriendship
ABC News
7 days ago
- Entertainment
- ABC News
Sophie Somerville wanted her debut film Fwends to 'normalise being an Australian woman'
Emerging Australian filmmaker Sophie Somerville is about to premiere her debut feature film, Fwends, at the Sydney Film Festival. It's the same festival where she was previously lauded for her award-winning shorts, Peeps and Linda 4 Eva. But Somerville — who, like most Australian creatives, already has one eye on her next project — finds it difficult to slow down and soak in the success of her work. "It's easy to forget that it's real, and then you're like, 'Shit, everyone is going to be watching my movie,'" she tells ABC Entertainment. "It's always a little nerve-wracking because you can't change the film, the film is done. You just have to kind of endure it while everyone else takes it in." Somerville is, of course, being delightfully humble. Her poignant and hilarious rumination on female friendships is fresh from being accepted into the prestigious Berlin Film Festival, where it took home the Caligari Prize for "stylistically and thematically innovative film". Later in the year, Fwends will feature in the Melbourne International Film Festival. "It is ramping up now," Somerville says. On the surface, Fwends masquerades as a traditional buddy comedy. Sydney-based lawyer Em (Emmanuelle Mattana) travels interstate to visit struggling Melburnian Jessie (Melissa Gan), to rekindle their friendship and go on an adventure through the city. But the vibe of the film will be intensely relatable for any person who has tried to revive a long-term relationship with a long-distance best friend. The connection of shared experience between Em and Jessie remains, but how they've changed over time creates friction for the young women. "It's fun to explore the layers of that kind of relationship: you have this surface level where you fall into those old patterns, [but] it just inevitably creates this pressure cooker until they actually witness each other in the present," Somerville says. "We thought, 'Let's start with two people and see them on the surface, and then just wear them down.'" As the two women traverse the city, they talk about everything — from the increasingly unmanageable cost of living to if they're really good people. They're familiar conversations refreshed by Em and Jessie's local takes. "I remember watching [Girls] and being so obsessed because you do feel seen as a young person, but then at the same time, they're these privileged girls in New York who have access to this kind of lifestyle that we just don't have," Somerville says. Drawing on her past experiences in short film, Somerville abandoned the rigidity of a traditional script, instead opting for an almost entirely improvised narrative. The director wrote the background and worked with Mattana and Gan to flesh out their characters, but the dialogue was completely improvised. "We had a pretty clear idea of what they were going through, the sort of core conflicts that they had going on inside and we needed them to reach a cathartic moment towards the end of the film," she explains. "But it was pretty loose with how they got there and when they got there." Operating on a minuscule budget and even fewer resources, Somerville and her small-but-mighty production team had to get creative to capture the beautiful and varied shots of inner-city Melbourne. "Even though the film is fiction, we approached it like we were shooting a documentary," she says. "Melbourne City Council had some really lovely filming permit rules where, if you have a small number of crew, you don't need a whole complicated film permit. So we just worked around that." Wide shots using long lenses give the action a guerilla feeling, like the audience is a secret passenger on Em and Jessie's physical and philosophical journey. That's not to say the documentary-style filming didn't throw up its own complications. "You'd have random kids who walk past and give the middle finger to the camera, old people who come up to you and are like, 'Oh, are you making Today Tonight?'" Somerville says. "It's awesome, though, because you come home with footage that is so rich and detailed. It's a really beautiful way to observe the world." As Em and Jessie's journey progresses, their interactions go deeper: long-held grievances are shared and situations are re-examined. A story from Em about her boss getting a bit too handsy — which was sarcastically brushed away by both women in the daylight hours — is given the weight it deserves as the sun sets and their barriers break down. At the same time, Jessie's casual break-up is revealed to be more complicated than she previously let on. "They were issues I was dealing with when I was writing background, so that was built into the characters. But I was also aware it's like two of the main things women experience," Somerville says. As Fwends made its way around the European film circuit, it collected rave reviews. But it also picked up a label that Somerville chafes at: mumblecore. A staple of the early and mid-2000s indie film scene, the genre is famous for improvised dialogue and lackadaisical narratives. "It just implies that it's this low-key kind of film, and the film's not low-key to me. The film's a big deal for the characters who are living it," Somerville says. Ultimately, she's grateful the uniquely Australian film resonated with international audiences, and she's hoping its warm reception will continue closer to home. "[As a new filmmaker] it's really, really easy to be very discouraged and to think that your voice isn't going to be commercial or isn't going to be listened to or taken seriously, but I just knew that we had to make [Fwends]," she says. "I wanted to make a movie that takes on these dark themes but makes you want to get up in the morning afterwards. That just makes you feel not alone." Fwends will premiere at the Sydney Opera House on June 7, with additional screenings on June 8 and 10 as a part of Sydney Film Festival.
Irish Times
29-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
And Just Like That... Season 3 review: Nostalgia served up like a gift box of premium cupcakes
When we look back at the 1990s, it is clear that some things have aged well (grunge, Quentin Tarantino films, Zig and Zag on The Den), and others have not (Britpop, Kenny Live, Zig and Zag on Channel 4 ). Firmly in the middle is Sex in the City, which has been retroactively criticised for its lack of diversity and – nearly as egregiously – making cupcake mania a thing during its original run from 1998 to 2004. But it wasn't all bad. In its portrayal of female friendship and its frankness about sexuality, SATC has weathered the years rather well: show it to a prurient Gen Z-er and watch them blush. Given that legacy, there was an obvious risk in going back, as original cast members Sarah Jessica Parker , Kristin Davis and Cynthia Nixon do in And Just Like That ... – though without, as we shall see, last of the gang, Kim Cattrall . It's taken a while, but after a tentative first two seasons that went overboard in presenting Parker's Carrie and chums as flailing in these 'woke' new times (they're supposed to be aged around 50, not 500), the series (Sky Comedy, Friday, 9pm) has found its groove. Granted, it does not have the spark of the original Sex and The City. But then, isn't that the point? You reach a certain age, and you're just not the same person any more and are much too tired even to pretend. And Just Like That ... is at its best when the three leads are on screen, bantering as in the old days. Fans will note the continued absence of Cattrall, who cameoed from London in series two but remains absent (her real-life falling out with Parker seemingly unresolved). Oh, and Miranda (Nixon) is now gay and desperately seeking a girlfriend, which she gets in the form of a wide-eyed tourist – played by recent newcomer to Ireland, Rosie O'Donnell. READ MORE The other storyline concerns Charlotte (Davis) and her misbehaving pooch, and it is a plot that could have parachuted in straight from Sex and The City. As could Carrie's embarrassing Confession of having faked an intimate moment over the phone with former fiance Aidan (who speaks in the creepy rasp of a free-roaming serial killer). Where the show falls down is in new characters. Three years on, they have yet to fully bed in. No matter how hard the writers try, we just don't care about glamorous estate agent Seema (Sarita Choudhury) or trendy documentarian Lisa (Nicole Ari Parker). Still, as nostalgia served up like a gift box of premium cupcakes, And Just Like That ... hits the spot. It doesn't try to invent the wheel. Often, it doesn't try to do much of anything beyond swirl around looking fabulous. But it does give us lots of Carrie and pals sharing zingy Manhattan gossip over brunch – and what is wrong with that? Sometimes, it's okay to play the hits – and when it does And Just Like That ... makes for solid comfort viewing. And Just Like That ... Sky Comedy, Friday, 9pm
Daily Mail
19-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Mail
Bad Friend by Tiffany Watt Smith: Beware the 'girl crush'
Bad Friend by Tiffany Watt Smith (Faber £18.99, 336pp) Does she love me as much as I love her? It's always me who initiates the texts suggesting we meet up. Right. I'm going to stop messaging her, and see how long it takes for her to notice.' If this kind of friendship inferiority complex has ever filled you with anxiety (it's certainly happened to me), cultural historian Tiffany Watt Smith's book Bad Friend is a must-read. Her investigation into female friendships and how they really work opens with two of her own friendship disasters. She felt desolate and abandoned when her once-close friend Sofia went cold on her. That friendship was, Watt Smith writes, 'my great romance, my proudest achievement' (she means platonic romance; she's happily married). 'I began to feel I was a failure at the essential aspect of feminine and feminist life.' The same happened with another woman, Liza, with whom Watt Smith shared a flat in her early 20s. At first, Watt Smith was infatuated by this slightly older woman who collected shells and crystals, and had a tattoo and a hot-pink streak in her hair. But the friendship 'burned very bright and then exploded' after just one year. The mistake she'd made, and which so many of us make, is that she almost fetishised Liza; she sort-of wanted to be her. Yes, many of us have had that 'This is the woman I want to be' feeling on meeting someone amazing. But that's the wrong way to go about it. Watt Smith has learned to celebrate differences, rather than to try to be exactly like someone else; and she's learned that friendships unfold in ways we do not expect or plan for. 'Less cultivated garden, more wild meadow.' This book is also a celebration of female friendships through the ages, mainly in the previous century. In the 20th century, trends changed dramatically, from the banning of girl-crushes at Cheltenham Ladies' College in 1913 (they were 'a mental instability', the headmistress declared) to today's T-shirts for girls with hearts on them and 'Best Friends Forever' emblazoned across the front. (Watt Smith fears that those T-shirts sell heightened expectations to young girls.) And whereas a 1936 book called Manners advised against making intimate friends of one's co-workers, 'as office friendships often do curdle', nowadays women are positively encouraged to embrace a 'work-wife' or a 'work-buddy'. In a recent Gallup poll, employees who described having 'a best friend' at work were less likely to experience burnout or to be considering leaving. By writing this book, Watt Smith has learned that 'the real commitment we make to our friends does not come in the triumph of the times we got it right, but in those small acts that show our willingness to keep trying'.
