Vue de Monde
July, 2015 The Vanished Culture had previously enjoyed the street level, race trim sister, Bistro Vue. But nothing had prepared us for Vue de Monde – 55 levels steeper and taller than its sister in every way. Degustation is a horrible word but, since Vue de Monde, it is one of The Varnished Culture‘s favourites. We took our phlegmatic Melbourne relative N (a chicken-and-chips man) there mid week and even he was impressed – although you wouldn’t know. Don’t go there if you don’t like culinary experimentation and weirdness. Strange and magical little courses were served (and explained) by enthusiastic staff, the youngest one so new that he shook…
Continue Reading →Rat
There is a corner in some foreign field Perpetually dug by historians, Like Evans, or Carter, they crave a yield, Anxious to turn-up Australians And there’s no telling what or fancying that But to keep digging, till you find a rat. — Wishes are horses, bourses are courses, In what is sealed-up, we pry, But try getting hacks to reveal sources Or say where the best bodies lie. You’ll never see the best bones set on the mat And can’t turn up truffles, for the smell of a rat. — Well may seal stones lay in the room, Green, carnelian, amygdaloid,…
Continue Reading →Chimes at Midnight
(Dir. Orson Welles) (1966) Welles amalgamates Shakespeare’s Henry plays and more: apparently made on a shoestring, in Spain, and technically a shambles, it still reeks of authenticity (like Welles’ Macbeth and Othello) and soars due to sterling performances and a script justly centred on the père / fils triangle between Henry IV (a chilly, imperious John Gielgud), Falstaff (a rambunctious Welles) and young Prince Hal, errant royal buck soon to grow (or shrivel) to dour, dismal, ungrateful King. Falstaff is a giant figure in literature (other than in adapted, borrowed and diminished form in the Bard’s by-the-numbers comedy) and here Welles,…
Continue Reading →Long Day’s Journey into Night
"A summer cold makes anyone irritable."
(Dir. Sidney Lumet) (1962) (Written by Eugene O’Neill) As Tolstoy said, “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” This look through the microscope at “the four haunted Tyrones” is a masterpiece of denial, perhaps the first important dysfunctional family drama of the 20th C. O’Neill (16 October 1888 – 27 November 1953) wrote his, a “play of old sorrow, written in tears and blood”, in a haze of drink, depression and clarity, in the late thirties, touching largely upon his own operatically-soapie family, dedicated to his last, controlling wife, Carlotta; dedicated to her almost as a confession. You…
Continue Reading →Mercato @ Daylesford
Winter, 2015 We drove into Spa World (Daylesford, country Victoria) and immediately re-visited this terrific establishment for lunch, which we had last been to in 2010. We liked the place so much that we returned a few days later for dinner. It’s a non-descript wooden edifice on Raglan Street, the main drag that leads into Daylesford proper, but its big windows display the glow of fires and mood lighting. Tables are small and close but expertly configured for privacy. The art is inherently horrendous but suitable as part of the décor. For example, there are two plain black and white pieces…
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