One Punch Wonder - Melbourne Fringe Festival review

In One Punch Wonder, director and writer Amanda Crewes takes a fiercely honest and raw look at the impact of male violence and how masculinity is becoming synonymous with aggression and intimidation. 

The performance takes place in a boxing ring; it is the symbol of male dominance with the physical contact and the hostility that takes place inside. We are seated around the perimeter of the ring, like a cheering audience waiting for the punches and bloodshed. Except we never shout, we sit there, stunned by the performances and the material that is presented to us.

Manfül review - Melbourne International Comedy Festival

Ask any man what type of body they would like to have, and the answer you'd get is most likely going to be something resembling Liam Hemsworth's. Or perhaps it would be the beefcake Dicky Rosenthal. Dicky is the brains (and brawn) behind the new muscle-gaining protein health shake, Manfül, and in Manfül, we are present at the launch of this drink that Dicky promises will transform us from being puny dweeb bags to real men.

Presented as part of the Melbourne International Comedy Festival, Manfül is a character-comedy piece written and performed by Josh Glanc in which he explores what it means to be a 'real' man and how this can sometimes clash with remaining honest to yourself and being what makes you happy.

Homme review - Melbourne Fringe

Created by the House of Vnholy and performed as part of the 2015 Melbourne Fringe Festival, Homme is a performative piece that explores male identity and contemporary masculinity within Australia. Through a series of vignettes and in complete silence, the differences between what it means to be a male and be a female are subtly explored.

It is standing room only during the performance, with Homme enveloping virtually the whole space. The white flooring is bare except for a number of select items, including a washing machine, a bundle of black balloons, a megaphone and a plinth. The two performers – Matthew Adey and Natalie Abbott - are dressed in black and the only time they speak is when they ask audience members for assistance with the props.

Bad Adam / Pony review

On the surface, the double bill of Bad Adam and Pony during this year’s Midsumma Festival appears to be constrasting highly different pieces of work with their distinct moods and tones. However both these shows leave us questioning what it means to be a gay man and how gay male sexuality is perceived both by society – but more importantly – by us.

In Bad Adam, the title character (creator and performer Dosh Luckwell) spends his time in “Club Eden”, a sex on-premises venue, where we follow his various experiences and are privy to his thoughts during these moments. The overt religious imagery and themes throughout Bad Adam, such as the apples, the lit-up cross on the floor and our protagonist’s namefor example, worked well in subtly exploring the idea of sexual repression and suppression and the conflict the two forms of pressure often present with each other.

Given Luckwell is the creator of the live art project Sex Poetry Booth, it is not surprising he has a way with words and the language used and the way it is presented in Bad Adam is indeed quite poetic and intriguing at times. Yet while we see a vulnerable, lonely and conflicted side to Adam, a number of scenes were too similar in execution. This lessened the impact of the overall work and impeded us in retaining an interest in Adam which, in a one-man show, is pivotal to its success.

Am I a Bad Gay?

I often joke to my friends that one day, my license will be revoked; my license to be gay. I know a lot of people who will read this and disagree with me and that's fine, but from my experiences this is how I see the gay community as a whole, based on my experiences. I've been a practising homosexual for a decade and I still feel no closer to the gay community than those days when I would borrow my next door neighbour's Dolly magazines to read but secretly lust after the shirtless nameless models in their pages.

There are a number of reasons why I feel I am a bad gay; the main one being I hate gay clubs. The clubs I have been to are generally a cruising ground for sex. Not that straight clubs aren't but in the gay ones, sexual advances are extremely direct and confronting (and at times, close to sexual assault). Two examples that come to mind; I was in the toilets of one club when a guy walked up to me and asked 'can I suck your dick' while I was literally standing at the urinal. Another time, a customer I had served when I worked in retail recognised me out and as he walked past me, grabbed my penis and smiled at me. I didn't appreciate that but yet if I was to create a scene about these moments, I would be looked at as making a big deal over nothing. The themed nights that various clubs have such as 'foam parties' implicitly condone such behaviour.

Continuing on with the overly sexualisation in the gay community, the amount of times I have started talking to - and even dated - guys and then find out they are in open relationships is unbelievable. I was at the Peel about six months ago and this guy approached me. We chatted for a while and had a bit of a snog (yes I said snog, deal with it) and then I returned to my mates. As I was leaving, I went back to him, chatted a bit more, exchanged numbers and I headed home (that's the PG version anyway). We spent the weekend texting back and forth and organising to go out that following Thursday until he sent me a text on the Monday saying "hey, I really like you but I think you should know I already have a boyfriend but I still want to see you". Delete. I'm not judging anyone that is in an open relationship (even though I don't get it) but it's treated like such a casual, normal thing to mention to someone, to the point where I was told by a friend that I should have asked him if he had a boyfriend! I'm no prude and I like to think I've had my fair share of escapades (yes, at times I have used Grindr to fulfil these needs) but in a gay environment, I feel sexual inhibitions disappear and anything is deemed acceptable which does not sit well with me.

There is a strong sense of competition between gay men. Much more than what I witness and hear about amongst my straight male friends. There's this feeling of having to be better than and superior to each other. Walk down Chapel St and you can feel the eyes burning through you, looking you up and down, judging what you're wearing, how your hair looks and who good your body is. We're so hell bent on creating a gay community yet we create these divides that are anything but positive. Why would anyone want to be part of that?

I'm also not a participant of gay festivals or events; I've never been to MidSumma, Sydney Mardi Gras and I didn't even go to any Melbourne Queer Film Festival screenings. I feel no connection or openess to any of these. A new magazine "about men who date men" called Hello Mr. was released recently, which has intelligent and well thought out articles written by gay men from around the world. Whilst it was far superior to the semi-pornographic DNA-esque magazines that are around at the moment, I still was not won over. There were only three articles I genuinely enjoyed and was moved by but the rest of it felt preachy and at times, quite pretentious - further enhancing 'competition' within the gay community.

It is for these reason why I guess I don't have a lot of gay friends, which I am fine with, as choosing your friends based on sexual preference is just as ridiculous as choosing your friends based on sex. My friends are awesome and never have I ever been made to feel uncomfortable about who I am, directly or indirectly but I've also reached the stage now - having just turned thirty five months ago - where what I would really like is a relationship. Having turned my back on so many gay avenues, what else is left? Where do people who don't fit the gay community mould go? I keep thinking that I will meet the perfect guy when I am at a cool little cafe in Fitzroy or at a comedy gig I may be at and I don't need to go to the Greyhound or join a gay sports team to meet him.

So...am I a bad gay?

Is the Walking Dead sexist?

Recently, I have felt that The Walking Dead – the TV series – has been treating its female character as second rate characters. Not caring for them and not developing them as much as they are the men. I’ve also made a note of the number of female characters who seem to kill themselves. It’s quite difficult to not compare the same character to the comic but I will attempt to look at the TV series separately to the comics for the most part.

In the beginning of the seasons, I remember the four women, Andrea, Carol, Amy and Jacqui (who later killed herself) washing their clothes when Shane attacks Carols’ husband Ed for abusing her. The four women stood back screaming at Shane to stop, even Andrea. In later episodes, once he was dead, Carol felt guilty for wishing dead the man who beat on her and abused her daughter. Even now that her husband – and daughter – are dead, Carol is still shown as a weak person constantly being protected by the men of the camp, including T-Dog who sacrificed himself to save her and Darryl. Furthermore, Beth has been nothing but a babysitter for the most of season 3. We actually saw her kill two walkers in the finale behind the gates but least she got to do something. Oh, and let’s not forget her own attempt at suicide in Season 2. Luckily now she stays under the watchful eye of her father, Hershel.

Lori’s death although tragic, was again, another example of how the women of Walking Dead are just there because they are. Throughout season 1 and 2 all Lori did was flit between Rick and Shane – and almost get raped by the latter - and once the writers got bored with this storyline, they decided to give her something else to do and make her pregnant. So instead of having her moan about which man she wants she is now going to be all maternal and moan about the life of the baby (and who the father actually is). Then the writers decide she will kill herself – another female suicide – to save the life of her baby. The ultimate sacrifice a woman can make obviously. It was a heart wrenching moment but no one cared about Lori’s death - she was not a fan favourite - they cared about the reaction of her death by her Carl and Rick.

Even Michonne, who is strong is damaged woman. No one can relate to her because she is so cold. Unlike the men - Rick, Darryl and Glen - who viewers can connect with because they show emotion and care about things. The first glimmer of emotion we got from Michonne was in the season 3 finale when Andrea decides to kill herself. It will be interesting to see how the character develops in Season 4.

Which brings me to my biggest gripe of the women characters; the development of Andrea. In season 1 she was a strong woman – even dealing well with the death of her sister Amy. But then it’s almost like the writer’s decided that they couldn’t have a strong female character in such a show so they had her contemplate killing herself at the end of Season 1. Season 2 was pretty much Andrea being looked after by Dale until he dies and then she laments his death. There is even a scene where Lori has a go at Andrea for standing on the RV looking out for zombies and holding her gun rather than doing her household duties like cleaning and cooking. However there is hope in her character when she begins having shooting lessons by Shane and becomes a pretty good shot. However, all that disappeared come season 3. In Season 3, the writers killed her before she even died. Having spent 8 months surviving in the forests with Michonne, the writers come to the logical conclusion that she would choose to remain in Woodbury, besotted by the Governor. As if a woman can only feel two emotions in Walking Dead, fear and love.
The fact that she stays with him after Michonne leaves, after she finds all the heads in the fish tanks and after she finds out what the Governor is up to is so hard to swallow for anyone to do. Even Carol tells her she needs to kill him while he’s sleeping but instead she sleeps with him! It was these poor decisions that made Andrea a shell of what she used to be. And to top it all off, to have her bitten by a single zombie and then “heroically” taken her own life (how many suicides is that?) after being so capable of killing them was insulting to viewers.
The thing that really annoyed me about this is that in the comics she is an integral part of the group, a strong woman who is their best shooter. She has remained loyal but independent too and never wavered over to the Governor’s side. She is strong, she is smart and she is cunning, which are traits the writers of The Walking Dead (which is mainly male) refuse to give to their female character on the show.

I’m really hoping the writers begin to really show a few different sides to the women in Season 4. We have such complex characters in Rick, Carl, Glenn and Darryl yet they seem to stick to the stereotypical Stepford Wife-like characters for its women. We’ve seen women can kick ass in zombie movies and shows. If Carl can be given a gun when he is just a child, then why the hell not the women – and not just to clean it.