Friday Five/ My Newest Favourite Thing: Belly Dancing

This is a cross-over post (of both Friday Five and My Newest Favourite Thing), as for the past six weeks I have been trying something new: namely bellydancing. Let me begin by saying I will never be a bellydancer. I haven't got the grace or the coordination, or the want/ need to shake my bits in front of an audience of strangers (in other words; I've got the belly but not the dancing bit down pat) but I have very much enjoyed my brief introduction to the art.

Our instructor, Brooke Thomas, is amazing. She is talented and professional (and has a proper dance troupe - Quake Bellydance) with warmth and humour to accompany her style. While she teaches serious and capable dancers, she is equally adept at dealing with incompetent, uncoordinated people with two left feet (i.e. me). She gives us moves to develop into a routine and introduces us to fun techniques, with plenty of warm up and cool down stretching, and some technical and historical background for those interested in the art. 

5 Favourite Things about Bellydancing

1. Camaraderie/ body acceptance - bellydancers come in all shapes and sizes and they are meant to jiggle. The body is an amazing thing and this type of dance celebrates that. Shimmies and hip movements isolate and highlight groups of muscles, and arm placement draws further attention to parts of the body and indicates their vibrancy and versatility. You don't have to be a supermodel to bellydance; you just have to learn to embrace your curves and enjoy the way your body feels when it moves.
2. Work-out/ flexibility/ stretching - Isolating muscle groups provides a great workout - it can be as high impact as you want to make it, and you really get to move, stretch and tone. The names of the moves are descriptive and evocative: there are hip drops, lifts, flicks, bumps, and rotations, snake arms, ribcage slides and circles, Maya, butterfly catch, envelope, Roman flame. The feeling afterwards is of a contented glow (much like you might experience with yoga or Pilates), and the week after we concentrated on snake arms, I really knew about it!
3. Music/ Rhythm - I love music and dancing for fun, even if I'll never be any good at it. Brooke makes the choreography fit beautifully to the beats and the ambiance of the music. We listened to some great Turkish songs and compositions, which were uplifting and fulfilling. I will admit to not being a fan of Shakira, although I now have Whenever, Wherever as an uninvited ear worm lodged in my brain.
4. Costumes - Brooke makes all her own costumes and she looks spectacular (did I mention she is ridiculously talented?). We danced in shorts or leggings and exercise tops. We did, however, get to play with the coin belts and veils. Coin belts are great fun: they jingle as we jiggle and we are literally present with bells on, but they are also tell-tale alarms for when the lower body is meant to be still as the upper body is meant to be directing the action. Veils are just great fun to drape, twirl and float about with. 
5. Learning new things - it's good for mental as well as physical health. I have a whole new appreciation of the artform. And, most importantly, I had a lot of fun!

Graceful shape framed by a veil

Here I Am: Art by Great Women

Last week I was at an event at Kambri at ANU, and reached it by walking through this exhibition. Inspired by Know My Name and in cultural partnership with the National Gallery of Australia, HERE I AM: Art by Great Women is a showcase of Indigenous and non-Indigenous artists from multi-disciplinary backgrounds including street art, fine art, photography, illustration, digital, sculpture, film and more.

As I wrote on my other blog, I really like outdoor exhibitions, bringing art into public spaces, and it's interesting to see people interacting with the works with a fresh focus in a less forced environment than the usual gallery setting. This exhibition made a brisk walk into a thoughtful diversion.

The Fruits of My Labour Taste Sweet, But They Are Not For You To Eat by Jess Cochrane

I like the colours of this image - I like the way it is both specific and abstract, as the paint runs down the woman's body and she is both proud and defensive of her naked form, which in turn supports her and nourishes other life. Having recently had breast surgery, I am particularly drawn to the way in which the lines are blurred, suggesting a malleable and evolving form. Artist Jess Cochrane writes,

This artwork is a portrait of Verity Babbs. Verity is an Oxford graduate and one of the top up-and-coming arts writers in London. An abundance of oddly shaped, flat peaches are gently cradled in her arms against her bare skin. An imperfectly shaped peach serves as a metaphor for the physical body, in protest to all of the years of harmful stereotypes that have been marketed to us as women. As imperfectly shaped as the peaches are, they are still an absolute delight to enjoy, as are all women in their diverse range of existence.

Pass de Deux III by Kaff-eine

Once again I am drawn to the inherent imperfections in the way the image is presented and in the image itself. To be naked is to be vulnerable, and to be naked in public before strangers is outstanding. Perhaps the only thing worse than being looked at in this situation is not to be looked at, which might explain why there is a mask of a dead animal (also a victim of vulnerability) being worn. There is a suggestion that 'if I can't see you; you can't see me' which is both childish and deeply philosophical. We choose what we see, and also what (and who) we ignore. The artist, Kaff-eine believes,

Posing nude for a painting is an intimate, vulnerable act, requiring the model to muster significant confidence, and conquer past experiences and trauma. In late 2018, I invited the public to model nude for my paintings of 'deerhunters'; my signature characters with animal skull heads and hooved limbs. I prioritised people underrepresented in discourse about beauty and desirability. The resulting portraits reflect my interest in outback queer Australia, the LGBTQI+ community, the gothic, and the potential of hyper real portraiture to convey the interections of these themes. Darkness and light, animal and human, living and dead, softness and strength; lines were blurred and contradictions celebrated.

Mt Tomaree by Helen Proctor

Very reminiscent of David Hockney's ipad pictures, this image blends the beauty and simplicity of nature with the artifice and complexity of digitisation. The blocks of colour and the suggestion of shade and movement are oblique as they cannot capture the connection that we instinctively feel towards landscape. This work speaks out as either a collision or a compromise between culture; the way the viewer responds can be abstract or specific, which is a true reflection of our current relationship with places we physically cannot reach.

'Mt Tomaree' is an artwork that depicts the Worimi country along the New South Wales coastline. Although the artwork abstractly depicts a certain place, I wanted it to connect both in colours and shapes to the essence of the Australian coastline and the emotional connection that people feel with it. - Helen Proctor

Cook ain't no timelord by Aretha Brown

The juxtaposition of modern iconography (cars and factories) depicted in a monochromatic naïve style leaps out in bold confrontation. It is no accident that black counters white and vice versa, and it feels as though there are echoes of Dick Frizzell. There is something of a woodcut image in its clear lines, while it also recalls block type face and comic strip panels - is this news; or is it treated as incidental? These are clearly the issues that artist, Aretha Brown faces.

This work is about my need to constantly reiterate just how recent white history is here in Australia. It's been 232 years since Cook rocked up, that's so painfully recent. To think about how much destruction has happened, in such a small amount of time, towards First Nations histories and cultures is heartbreaking. But that said, Captain Cook isn't a time lord; he didn't bring light and time to this continent. We have always been here - not just living but thriving as the oldest living culture on the planet. My grandma couldn't even vote in her lifetime because she's black. So much for Australian democracy!

Queen of Strategy by Jodee Knowles

This one of my favourite works in this exhibition. As a child learning the rules of chess, I was always disappointed by the fact that we had to defend the king, who was so useless he couldn't do it himself. The king could only move one square at a time (apart from when he scuttled off to the corner to be barricaded behind his castle) while the queen raced around the board organising everything; discussing tactics with the sidling diagonal bishops and the leaping courageous knights. Even pawns could become queens, but the king had no hope but to rely on everyone else to do his bidding. It always seemed unfair. I'm glad modern artists are looking at redressing this (im)balance.

Chess is a game of strategy. The King has to be protected but the Queen is the most powerful piece. The history of art has predominantly been depicted through the eyes of males, thus diminishing the power of the female artist for centuries. The female suppression has placed us in the shadows of obscurity for too long. My aim is to enhance the understanding of women's contribution to Australia's cultural life. In this work I've attempted to represent the liberation of equality and the necessary benefits it holds for our future storytelling and history, to be told by ALL equally; to gauge the closest reality to the truth of our human existence. - Jodee Knowles

The Canberra Spider Orchid by George Rose

Technique and colour are powerful in this image - it looks pretty, like a repeating pattern one might use as a wallpaper, but it is more reminiscent of militant Morris & Co than inoffensive Ikea. It is as striking and claustrophobic as it is sensual and calming.

I've created a work that reflects upon the use of botanicals as a symbol of femininity and identity. I often utilise the depiction of botanical emblems as a way to connect my art to communities and culture. Here I've depicted an orchid, often regarded as a symbol of femininity. The Canberra spider orchid only grows in the ACT, is found in just three locations, and with less than [sic] 600 plants known to botanists it is considered endangered. I painted the small delicate flowers in bold, bright colours, paired with strong line work, to juxtapose the image of something regarded as frail being powerful instead. - George Rose

Holly and Chrysanthemums by Faith Kerehona

In an example of seeing something everywhere once you've noticed it somewhere, I refer to Faith Kerehona. I'd not heard of her until a couple of weeks ago, when I blogged about an amazing mural by her and Bohie Palecek (see below) at the Dickson Shops called In Our Hands. I have since seen that she is the designer and painter of the new mural at the Cook shops that I was admiring yesterday (and which will be featured in an upcoming post). I like her unashamed use of colour and the female form to frame her ideas and celebrate her connections.

This artwork is of my friend, Holly, a beautiful young woman who is capable, independent, and fierce. Her wisdom, humour and compassion uplift everyone she meets. I wanted to capture some of the radiating warmth and clarity I see in her. It's a cathartic process to paint somebody you love. I try to take as many moments as I can to celebrate the beautiful women in my life. - Faith Kerehona

Peony 2 by Nicole Reed

While this image is used as the advertising poster for this exhibition, it is, for me, one of those artworks that requires words to bring out the art behind the science - it is an image of flowers on fire, yes, but there is nothing in the execution or the background to inspire or explain. Maybe this clinical approach is deliberate, but it is not one that appeals to me.

Meaning and symbolism has been attributed to flowers for thousands of years. Floriography (the language of flowers) is like a secret means of communication through the arrangement or use of flowers. As legend has it, peonies are assigned the meaning of 'shame' or 'bashfulness' because of the playful nymphs that were said to hide in their petals. I wanted to make subtle commentary on the stereotypes that associate being mischievous with shame. For me, mischief is about taking calculated risks to make life a little more fun. Plus, I just like the challenge of setting plastic things on fire! - Nicole Reed

When our voices are censored, our spirits make noise by Maddie Gibbs

A personal interpretation of indigenous artwork designs, this is a striking and powerful piece. The swirling, halo, nimbus effect is interspersed with symbols of flora and fauna in a specific landscape highlighting connections to the land through palette and image. It demands to be seen and questioned. 

Aboriginal female spirits. Our spirits survive and thrive. Our connection cannot be broken - we fight, we stand, we connect. Authority won't suppress our spirits. Political systems will not categorise us. Governing bodies will try to muffle our voices but our spirits will roar. Spirit they will never have, spirit they can never control. - Maddie Gibbs

Onna Bugeisha by Nanami Cowdroy

I like the playful nature of the modern and traditional in this work - the cultural touchstones of East and West reflected in every aspect from the dress and hairstyle to the depiction of animal iconography. The spray can contrasts with the traditional tools of the artist in the brushes and pencils; the stylised fish trapped in the bubble forming bubbles of its own; the skateboard with the impression of a skull beneath; symbols of the elements; badges of flags and rock bands... this picture invites contemplation and offers multiple discoveries.

This is my interpretation of Neoclassicism - playing with traditional Japanese Ukiyo-E subjects and styles, combined with contemporary objects, elements and themes. Being lucky to be born and raised in a free country like Australia - where the concept of 'female empowerment' is the cultural norm - occasionally led to tensions when I was trying to relate to my okassan (mother) and her old-school, traditional Japanese views and behavioural expectations of how I, as a female, should 'be'. This piece reflects a rebellion over some of those cultural expectations which so many Japanese women still face. It's a playful reflection on what it means to be 'female'. - Nanami Cowdroy

The Future is Bright by Bohie Palecek

Bohie Palecek was mentioned above in partnership with Faith Kerehona. They both seem to deal in broad sweeps of paint to create meaningful interactions - this delightful piece of work expresses wonder and tenderness, with a beautiful nurturing relationship based on care and comfort through instinct rather than performance.

After a long drought, a catastrophic fire season, floods and a global pandemic, I find solace in moments of quiet reflection. This portrait is of the three-year-old daughter of one of my closest friends; out in the wild and braving the darkness in a field of purple Kunzea, which hugs the shores of the Shoalhaven River. This young girl is not asking for permission, or validation, or assistance. She's courageously immersed in the moment. My artwork invites the viewer to pause - to witness the magic of the wild and allow your heart to connect to and be moved by it. - Bohie Palecek

She/ Her by Gemma O'Brien

I've saved one of the best until last (or first, if you approach the avenue from the other direction). The bright vibrant text stands out from a busy and brilliant background shouting identity with pride. She makes no apologies for what being what she is.

'She/ Her' is a large two-panel painting of my pronouns. I wanted to share this through my art, as a way to remind myself that asking and using someone's preferred pronouns is a way of showing openness and respect, and disrupting any gender associations I may have. Although my pronouns are familiar, like he/ him, some people prefer to use gender-neutral or gender-inclusive pronounces such as they/ them/ theirs and ze/ hir/ hir, or perhaps by their name. So without further ado, pleased to meet you, my name is Gemma and I go by she/her pronouns. How should I refer to you? - Gemma O'Brien

Friday Five: Autological Words

Drawing Hands by Maurits Cornelis Escher

Here's a question I like to ask in a pub conversation: What's your favourite autological word? If I were ever single, I would ask it of prospective partners (possibly assuring that I would remain single). The way one answers is revealing. To not have a favourite might imply indecision or inclusion: it might imply lack of knowledge of the subject, which is fine, but how one responds to lack of knowledge is telling. I'm curious about things - I like to learn. I hate to be lectured; so it would depend how the information is imparted as to whether or not I would be interested.

An autological word is one that describes itself. 

Five Favourite Autological Words:

1. Word - it is what it says it is (as is noun)
2. Unhyphenated - can't argue with that
3. Pentasyllabic - pentasyllabic is a five-syllable word; it is itself pentasyllabic and, therefore, autological
4. English - indeed it is
5. Obfuscatory - it's not exactly straightforward

New York Nostalgia: City of Girls

City of Girls by Elizabeth Gilbert

Bloomsbury

Pp. 466

This novel of New York and nostalgia is written in the framework of a letter. When Angela writes to Vivian asking, “Given that my mother has passed away, I wonder if you might now feel comfortable telling me what you were to my father?” Vivian decides to respond with the story of her life and, although we don’t actually know who Angela or her father is, and it’s quite some way through the book before we discover that, the format leads to a conversational style as Vivian talks to Angela without trying to upset or offend her.

Vivian grows up in a typical conservative WASP family in upstate New York, where there is an assumption that she will go to college, find a husband and settle down into the life of a wife and mother. Due to reasons of lethargy and lack of engagement, her parents pack her off to New York to stay with her Aunt Peg, who happens to run a rather dilapidated playhouse. Vivian has always been told that she hasn’t got a lot of talent, but she can sew, and she is soon making costumes for all the productions and winning friends with her skill with a needle and a tight budget.

When Vivian reaches New York and meets the showgirls, she is wildly distracted by their gossip and their glamour, and entranced by their lifestyle, which is different from anything she has ever known. The leader of this troop is the outrageously entitled personification of a whirlwind, Celia Ray. Her behaviour is infuriating and inconsiderate, but Vivian is happy to tolerate it because it makes her feel included into another world of conviction, enthusiasm and, above all, youth.

The novel is a love story to a time and a place. The time was the 1940s; the place was New York City, more specifically, the Lily Playhouse. Sure, there was a war approaching, but with the callow and shallow nature of self-obsessed youth, Vivian managed to disregard it, even though her brother had just joined the navy. New York is a city of dreams, possibilities and action, and in Vivian’s eyes and breathless descriptions, the Lily Playhouse is where these dramas take shape. It would be a fabulous, chaotic place to work, but the business model is unsustainable, and it is the sort of atmosphere that can be regarded fondly with hindsight, but not last forever or be recreated. Elizabeth Gilbert, through Vivian’s reminisces, is expert at blending the brilliance with the base, and tempering the glow of nostalgia with the grit of reality.

A theatre is the perfect metaphor for presenting a bright surface to conceal a shabby behind, and the shows that were staged at the Lily are the essence of this. “To my mind there was never anything better than those simple, enthusiastic revues. They made me happy. They were designed to make people happy without making the audience work too hard to understand what was going on.”

Vivian spends a lot of her youth being told who she is, and what she should be, by men. She discovers another talent – that of making men desire her – and she works that angle for all it is worth, and far beyond, damaging her own and others’ relationships in the process. There is a freedom of sex which she interprets as power; it is not as if she enjoys the act itself, but she does relish the game. She is callous and flippant and frivolous, and she loves every second of it, until she becomes entangled in a scandal and is judged, again unfairly, for her part in the affair – men get away with indiscretions; women are discreetly got away. In typical Moll Flanders style, the later bits of her life, when she comes to realisations and profundities are not as interesting as the titillating sections of her wild youth.

City of Girls is mainly fun and frivolous. It has some dark moments hiding in the shadows, waiting for the bright lights of the big city or the playhouse to fade to leave behind the reality of life. It is a paean to concealment; through theatre, fashion and sex, but it is not superficial. It is one person’s account, but it is also a universal truth. After all, as someone who knew a bit about theatre once wrote, “All the world’s a stage.”

COVID-19 Friday Five: Anxiety Dreams

I'm having trouble sleeping. When I do sleep I have anxiety dreams. I have lived with anxiety for a long time and, as I grow to understand it, probably even longer than I first thought. It comes - resulting in panic attacks at its most extreme - and goes (although it never goes completely), and most of the time I try to externalise it and can lessen its harmful effects that way. I know I am not alone and that a lot of people have anxiety (approximately 18% according to a recent survey, although only about a third of those seek professional treatment).

I also know that COVID-19 has led to an understandable increase in anxiety and feelings of helplessness, many of which manifest in dreams.  A research paper published in Scientific American found that 37% of people had 'pandemic dreams', many of them marked by themes of insufficiently completing tasks and being threatened by others. Here's an example of one of mine.

I was in a very quiet (English-looking) pub with a group of Aussie theatre friends. I had taken them there to introduce them to 'my other community' (although I don't know where it was and I didn't recognise any of the other patrons). I was trying to get a round in with the help of another person, but each time we thought we had ordered the correct number of drinks, someone else walked in and we had to get one for them too - it took so long to process the order that some people had finished theirs before we had even sat down, so we thought we had to get them another one. 

By the time I finally sat down at the table I realised I didn't have a pint and, although I really wanted one, I couldn't be bothered to go through all the rigmarole again, and so when my friend noticed I hadn't got a drink, I said it was okay and that I didn't really want one anyway, which I did. Everyone else was talking amongst themselves and laughing at something that I hadn't heard, and no one involved me in the conversation. I knew that there were some people missing whom I really wanted to be there, and that they would have made me feel better if they were around, but as they weren't, I was going to have to deal with it myself. 

I nonchalantly got up to go and look at a picture on the wall, and I realised it was actually a jigsaw puzzle when it all fell apart in front of me. The pieces were tiny, but I thought I had to try and put it all back together before anyone noticed - there was a spare table so I scooped all the tiny pieces on to it and frantically started to reassemble it, although the light in the pub was dimming and I was finding it really hard to see the picture. 

A group of people walked in (some of whom I recognised) and asked if they could use this table because they needed to have their meeting. I tried to stall for time by asking them what their committee was, and regretted it instantly when they told me they were the Committee Against Colour-and-Gender-Blind Casting (CACAGBC). The rest of the pub fell silent and all I was afraid it was all going to kick off and somehow it would all be my fault... and they'd notice I'd wrecked their puzzle picture. 

I woke up sweating in fear and gasping for breath. It took a while to calm down and convince myself that I hadn't broken or destroyed anything, from inanimate objects (such as the jigsaw puzzle) to friendships (particularly among my theatre community). I am still tired, emotional and a little bit nauseous. I know this may sound ridiculous to some, but these things affect me on a daily basis. While I cannot stop these dreams, I can identify what is bothering me in them - thoughts and feelings which I try to repress in my waking hours.

5 Anxiety Issues in My Dreams:

• Feeling responsible for things which are beyond my control
• Stress of trying to plan something within shifting and uncertain parameters
• Feelings of isolation - trying to reconcile different aspects of my life
• Feeling overlooked and excluded but trying to pretend it doesn't bother me
• Wanting to 'return' to a time and place but not knowing when I will be able to get there and afraid that things will have changed so much that I won't recognise anyone when I do

Not Always Greener: Marilla of Green Gables

Marilla of Green Gables by Sarah McCoy

Thorndike Press

Pp. 446

In this imagined prequel to the Anne of Green Gables books, Marilla has much in common with Anne. Her relationships with her brother, Matthew, and her friend, Rachel, are explained, and the setting of place and time are clear. At times, however, it becomes confusing as the similarities between Marilla and Anne are great: there is even a parallel story of Marilla’s romantic connection with a Blythe who got away. The author claims she began with the “cryptic un-telling” of a mention in Anne of Green Gables of Marilla telling Anne, “John Blythe was a nice boy. We used to be real good friends, he and I. People called him my beau.”

When Marilla’s mother, Clara, dies in childbirth, her Aunt Izzy continues to stay for a while and Marilla’s life changes irreparably. Aunt Izzy is a strong woman driven by fairness who teaches Marilla to recognise her advantages and privilege. It is on Aunt Izzy that the ‘subplot’ of racism and slavery hangs. In a nod to the Underground Railroad, Aunt Izzy helps people across the border from America to Canada, and introduces Marilla to concepts of self-determinism.

Marilla is not a prototype feminist, but she has got opinions and is prepared to speak her mind. She is highly intelligent, takes her school exit exams early, and gets good results. When John Blythe tells her she is “smarter than any other girl I know”, she is pleased with the compliment and determines that this will be her primary attribute. “Her mother had been virtuous. Izzy was beautiful. She, Marilla, would be smart.” Her thoughts are quite radical in terms of self-identity. “Who said a man or a woman had to be a husband or a wife? Maybe they could simply be, unto themselves. Besides, there were bigger issues in the world than love doves and wedding bells.” Sarah McCoy writes in her Author’s Note, “And now I write again with the hope that readers will understand Marilla for who she is as a woman unto herself… as I am unto mine.” She seems to achieve this ambition.

Sarah McCoy clearly has a great love for the “beloved works” by Lucy Maud Montgomery. In her Author’s Note, she shares, “I wrote from a place of grateful reverence to a fictional landscape that has given me much scope for imagination. I wrote praying each hour that I would honour that world and add to it in a way that would make its creator proud.”

The novel contains instances of homey and rural wisdom, and the chapters have titles like ‘John Blythe Suggests a Walk’, ‘A Return to Hopetown’ or ‘Aunt Izzy and the Three Magi’ This might suggest the novel is intended for a young adult audience, but modern teenagers might not be interested, so it is more likely to be an attempt to copy the style of the original and appeal to the nostalgia of its fans. Sarah McCoy takes a well-loved story and crafts her own version upon it, which is the sincerest form of flattery. It makes sense and it certainly doesn’t do any damage to the originals, although I’m not sure anyone with no previous interest in the Anne Shirley stories will engage with it.

Colleen Dewhurst as Marilla Cuthbert in the CBC Televsion adaptation of Anne of Green Gables

Friday Five: More TV Shows

I was doing posts about ISO TV, but feel slightly fraudulent calling it that in Australia, where almost everything is back to normal operations - apart from theatre and festivals. So let's just go with TV shows; here are another five that I have been watching.

5 TV Shows Recently Watched:

1. Belgravia (ITV) It's not a patch on Sanditon, but it has some pretty bonnets, sly asides and wildly anachronistic character developments. The nineteenth-century drama focuses on illegitimate children, inherited wealth and social climbing as one would expect from Julian Fellowes, writer of Downton Abbey. The cast includes Tamsin Greig, Philip Glenister, Tara Fitzgerald, Paul Ritter, Harriet Walter, Saskia Revves and Tom Wilkinson, who are all marvellous, even if they barely get to flex their acting muscles.
2. Between Two Worlds (Seven Network) The monochromatic colour palette (almost everything is a shade of blue or grey) is matched only by the complete lack of inflection in the acting and dialogue. The premise should have been interesting - a man who has a heart transplant starts to imagine he has inherited characteristics of his donor - but the simultaneously tawdry production and deadpan delivery cannot raise a pulse. Models are all very well but their acting is more of the cardboard cutout variety.  Hermione Norris, what were you thinking?
3. Roadkill (BBC) Hugh Laurie seems to be cornering the market in nasty bastards. This political drama written by David Hare has a touch of Yes, Minister crossed with The New Statesman, but the comedy is replaced with cold hard pragmatism. Hugh Laurie plays Peter Laurence, a government minister on the rise until a past scandal threatens to bring him down. Helen McCrory and Saskia Reeves also star. The four-part thriller was filmed last year and, if COVID and finances permit, is perfectly poised for a second season. 



Julia Davis and Catherine Shepherd in Sally4Ever



4. Sally4Ever (Sky Atlantic/ HBO) Inevitably this will be compared with Fleabag because it is written by a woman  (Julia Davis) and features 'normal' women (Catherine Shepherd; Julia Davis) dealing with life and having sex. I long for the days when this isn't such a unique premise and the gender balance is more equal in terms of writers and actors getting decent work. In the meantime, this is a good benchmark. The seven thirty-minute episodes cause the viewer cringing discomfort and cathartic guffaws of laughter. It's black comedy at its best. 
5. The Good Fight, Season Four (CBS All Access) It begins with Diane (Christine Baranski) in an alternate reality where Hilary won, the #MeToo movement has never happened and Harvey Weinstein is still a good guy. After she wakes up it continues with military whistleblowers and an investigation into the death of Jeffrey Epstein. It's well-written and topical, with characters we grow to love (Cush Jumbo as Lucca Quinn; Sarah Steele as Marissa Gold; Nyambi Nyambi as Jay DiPersia; Michael Boatman as Julius Cain) and it combines stand-alone stories with a continuous thread. It's like a cross between Boston Legal and The West Wing, and I enjoy the glitzy American courtroom drama with powerful women not just doing the filing and answering the phone. Only seven of the scheduled ten episodes were fully completed before production was halted due to the COIVD-19 pandemic, and it feels unfinished with a tantalising mystery still in the air and Lucca has left the series. I feel a bit bereft. 

More of this sort of thing: Cush Jumbo, Christine Baranski and Audra McDonald in The Good Fight