That’d Be Right: A Fairly True History of Modern Australia
by William McInnes (Hachette Livre, 2008); audiobook read by William McInnes (Bolinda, 2008)
By contextualising his personal reminiscences within a potted, three decade–spanning observational history of Australian prime ministers—from Whitlam to Rudd, pitching each PM as emblematic of the national mentality—McInnes paints a gently contemplative picture of social change and maturing self-awareness.
Call Down the Hawk
by Maggie Stiefvater (Scholastic, 2019)
audiobook read by Will Patton (Scholastic, 2019)
Stiefvater again demonstrates her aptitude for making multiple protagonists feel important—even those like Declan, formerly relegated to the background. The story oozes with dreamy, deadly potential, the only disappointment being an ending less self-contained than any volume of the Raven Cycle.
Black Mirror: Hated in the Nation
by Charlie Brooker; dir. James Hawes (Netflix, 2016)
Feature-length police investigation with the character development to constitute a series pilot in its own right. Brooker considers the internet as a conductor of mass hate, then flips through a disquieting grey area to visit extreme, equally capricious consequence on individual users.
Groundhog Day
dir. Harold Ramis (1993)
Perfectly executed, its scenario grounded in the real-world town of Punxsutawney and its annual Groundhog Day festival, the story riffing through loops that, while sometimes as dark as they are funny, reveal a surprising measure of philosophical depth. High re-watch value (appropriately).
Doctor Who: Can You Hear Me?
by Charlene James & Chris Chibnall; dir. Emma Sullivan (BBC, 2020)
A dark, genuinely creepy episode whose only real failing is the ease with which Zellin and Rakaya are dispatched (cf. the Krynoid from The Seeds of Doom). Even this serves, in contrast, to emphasise the insidious, less easily confrontable workings of depression.
Doctor Who: The Thirteenth Doctor
The Many Lives of Doctor Who
by Richard Dinnick, various illustrators (Titan, 2018)
A graphic novel anthology featuring three- to six-page outings for every incarnation of the Doctor prior to Jodie Whittaker’s. We’re given random companions, no great character likenesses, and stories ranging from facile vignettes to scenarios without plot. Minor nostalgia value at best.
Vera, Series 10
(ITV, 2020)
Four more cases rendered difficult to crack because everyone involved has something unrelated to hide. Vera putters about while her sizeable team are relegated to bit players behind Ben Bartlett’s unrelenting score. (Ongoing investigation: why did Van Gogh cut off his ear?)
Black Mirror: Men Against Fire
by Charlie Brooker; dir. Jakob Verbruggen (Netflix, 2016)
While the character dynamics are nicely scripted, and well handled by the actors (particularly Malachi Kirby and Madeline Brewer), the naturalistic exploration of military indoctrination and target dehumanising is undermined by Brooker’s using Michael Kelly as a mouthpiece to articulate his inspirations.
Mi-Sex: Graffiti Crimes 45 Years
live @ Crowbar, Brisbane (31 May 2025)
Down to one original member (keyboard maestro Murray Burns) but with its distinctive blend of synth-rock, punk and outright theatricality very much intact, Mi-Sex dosed the Brisbane faithful with thumping dollops of revamped nostalgia. Highlights included Space Race, Stills, and Computer Games.
Doctor Who: Fugitive of the Judoon
by Vinay Patel & Chris Chibnall; dir. Nida Manzoor (BBC, 2020)
Captain Jack’s return is gratuitous, serving mostly to sideline Graham, Ryan and Yaz (staged by Manzoor as a three-person collective). Jo Martin, however, is magnificent as the Fugitive Doctor—both in her own right and shading Jodie Whittaker’s performance with lost-child vulnerability.