REGULARS

Fairy Bread In the very heart-warming words of Eleanor Shellstrop, “ya basic.” You’re into astrology, long walks on the beach, and you’re a Taylor Swift stan since her country days. Or you’re a three-year-old girl in a pink tutu.

Pavlova You’re the mum-friend of the group, aren’t you? You’re always prepared, you always have tissues, hand sanny, tampons and pens stashed in your bag, no matter the size. You also love fringe fruits like pomegranate, dragon fruit and grapefruit.

(Natural Confectionary) Party Mix Your friends tell you you’re a picky eater. You tell them your taste buds are “refined” (even though no one believes you…not even you). You have a personal vendetta against food with strange textures, like chia pudding, cottage cheese, oysters and boba.

Party Franks I don’t know if I should be inspired by your bravery or concerned for your apparent lack of taste buds. Food is food to you; you don’t care much about the flavour or preservatives (sometimes the more the better), as long as you eat, you’re content.

Party Pies and Sausage Rolls You are either 10 or 21. Either way you’re a True Blue, through and through. But you’ll never be seen eating a regular-sized pie because you’re no tradie.

Lamingtons (with Jam) You’re sophisticated. You must have your lamingtons accompanied with tea. You’ll often be found poolside in a fashionable swimsuit and a hat with the diameter of a satellite dish, reading the latest rom-com, but you’ll never actually be seen getting into the water.

by Lauren Grzina

When I asked, “What movie is so iconic that it is embedded in Australian culture?” the responses I got, and the subsequent confusion reflected by my furrowed eyebrows and tilted head, had those people who answered baffled.

“You’ve never watched The Castle? At all? Tell me you’re dreaming.”

“Paper Planes? Never saw it? It’s with the guy from Avatar and this guy,” (shows pic of Ed Oxenbould), “surely you’ve seen those guys!”

“These movies define Australian culture.”

I began to think: what made these movies iconic in popular culture? So to answer my question, I decided to watch some of these suggestions and see if such movies represent the accuracy of Australian culture.

Movie 1: The Castle

Practically every Aussie I know quotes the lines. Whether it’s, “tell him he’s dreaming,” or “how’s the serenity,” to “it’s the vibe of the thing,” The Castle has become a classic cult film in Australian culture. Daryl Kerrigan and his family live near the airport, however they have been given notice that their house has been compulsorily acquired by the government. As such, Daryl commences legal proceedings to withdraw the government from acquiring houses near the airport in favour of plans to expand the development of the airport. As the audience, we see this all unravel from Daryl’s son, Dale, who narrates this whole movie.

When finishing the movie, I realised that it is not the journey of pseudo-legal proceedings that defines the plot. Rather, this movie displays the idea of home, a helping hand, and the value of family from ordinary people – a culture relatable to the everyday Australian. As Daryl says it best, “a man’s home is his castle.” We understand the sentiment of the Kerrigan Home. It is a comfort to the Kerrigans, a source of familiarity, and the chamber of the family heart. We see this extend to Wayne, the eldest sibling of the Kerrigan family, who is in jail for eight years for robbery. The scenes of Wayne staring at a picture of his family and laying in his jail cell, show that the comfort of family photographs is what keeps Wayne sane, that familiarity. The interaction that Dale and Wayne have when Dale visits him every Friday shows that family is family, where you don’t need to re-earn your place at the table. And the fight that Daryl puts up to stop this action from happening not just for himself, but for his neighbours as well, epitomises the fighting spirit we Aussies have.

Though in real life, it is believed that Daryl Kerrigan would have lost his legal battle, this film created a greater level of empathy from the Australian audience. The audience can relate to seeing such ordinary, working-class people with good intentions, coming with welcoming arms. Overall, this was a feel-good movie.

Movie 2: Muriel’s Wedding

Muriel’s Wedding was the next movie I watched. The only thing I knew about it was that it was the movie that made Cher get into ABBA.

The story follows Muriel, the target of harassment from her friends, considered to be socially inept. Burdened by her family and home life, lacking in romantic experience, and daydreaming to hopefully find love, she steals money from her parents to go on a vacation with her best friend to fulfil that promise. When watching this movie, we watch someone else’s struggles and follow them to the end of their journey.

Muriel’s Wedding is a rom-com movie where the main character, Muriel, is a source of consolation. As an “outsider,” it almost seems she’s drowning in indescribable emptiness. Yet, her journey towards empowerment and escaping the anxieties of the world acts as a hug to the audience. This movie reassures us that we all have the capacity for joy, even through the painful disappointments of life.

This movie is one that is catered to the broader audience, not only the Australian audience. At Muriel’s age, there is a lot of confusion with social expectations which pressures one to adhere to false ideas of happiness. Her moments of fictional marriages, singing to ABBA, her ventures into different dates, give a sense of vulnerability and insecurity that make her authentic. The constant hurdles make us feel that it is okay to go at our own pace for personal growth, amidst a society that demands so much from us.

Movie 3: Paper Planes

I remember when this movie came out. It was plastered on every movie cinema and featured in YouTube advertisements with Shepphard’s “Geronimo” playing in the background. Yet, the simplicity of this movie exudes a familiar but reassuring fun warmth. This movie had everyone grabbing the nearest piece of paper, making paper planes.

The story is about Dylan, who has recently lost his mother due to a car crash, and his father, Jack, who is dealing with the loss by watching home-videos all day. One day at school, Dylan discovers his passion for flight and paper planes, and gains determination to join the world paper planes championship. We see moments of his father and him mending their relationship as Jack becomes more involved with helping Dylan maximise the flying of his paper planes.

What I didn’t realise until after I watched this movie was that the paper plane competition was popular in Australian culture. Despite the simplicity of the film, it brings a lot of nostalgia of just being a kid and venturing into unlikely pursuits, though it may be questionable to an audience outside Australia why this would be a source of entertainment for us. Like mentioned earlier, I remember seeing parents, who were not concerned with making paper planes, suddenly constructing their own. Seeing them re-folding, making test paper planes and writing down improvements, was symbolic of them rekindling their childhoods, inspired by Paper Planes. This movie highlights the creativity and sportsmanship central to the journey of Dylan’s achievements and growth.

by Mikaela Mariano

KATH AND KIM crim to keep myself trim?” Kath’s rhyme and wordplay never ceases to impress. When she’s in the kitchen holding a cantaloupe, she says “I can’t elope, Kim.” And every appearance of the homewares duo Prue and Trude, their grey bobs shining beneath fluorescent mall lighting, is priceless.

Image Source: Sydney Morning Herald

In May of 2002, Australia was introduced to its most loved sitcom. It revolves around the mother-daughter relationship of permed empty-nester Kath Day-Knight (Jane Turner) and her lazy, self-obsessed daughter Kim (Gina Riley). I like to think of Kath and Kim as Australia’s Keeping Up with the Kardiashians, but with a more suburban-chic aesthetic and thinner lips. Since its premier, Kath and Kim have become nothing short of household Australian personalities, and their bogan-vogue phrases are parroted again and again. The supporting cast of hilariously droll characters and the string of witty, indulgent plots has, in my eyes, deemed Kath and Kim as Australia’s most iconic TV show.

“Look at moi,” is a phrase everyone and their mother has stretched their lips over at least once in their life. Kath and Kim’s dialogue revels in working-class colloquial fabulousness, Kim classily speaking of “cardonnay” and Kath adoringly referring to her husband Kel as a “great hunk of spunk.” The exaggerated Australian accent, ridiculed and mimicked by the rest of the world, is lovingly celebrated in Kath and Kim, simultaneously laughed with and at by the audience.

There are so many scenes from the show’s four seasons that still make me crack up laughing. When Kim comes home to find that her mother has turned her room into a gym, Kath defends the renovation: “I like to keep myself trim, Kim. Does it make me a But we can’t forget Kel (Glenn Robbins), Sharon (Magda Szubanski) and Brett (Peter Rowsthorn), the people who keep Kath and Kim from ripping each other apart. Kel’s gelled fringe, and the gold necklace nestled in his chest hairs, certainly peg him as the show’s middle-aged heartthrob. He is – oh la la! – a purveyor of fine meats, and warmly tends to Kath’s every desire and ambition. He’s a supportive, troubleless partner who lets Kath be the best version of herself. Sharon, a sports-enthusiast with a large collection of polo shirts and an undying rash, is Kim’s “second-best friend.” Szubanski’s exceptional portrayal of Sharon always leaves me cry-laughing. Despite Kim’s harsh love towards her, Sharon is always looking out for her best friend: “You look like a fashion victim, Kim.” Compared to the rest of the family, Brett is a lot more reserved. His biggest moments of heat are when he is arguing with Kim – well, when Kim is arguing with him – which is, let’s face it, always. He has a better relationship with his mother-in-law than with his wife, but, ultimately, he never quite does enough to keep Kim happy.

The Kath and Kim universe blew up in 2012 with the release of the feature film Kath and Kimderella, which gave all of us greedy Australians a goold old movie starring our favourite suburbians to hunker down with. In July 2022, it was announced that Kath and Kim will be returning for a one-off special in celebration of their 20th anniversary. Time to pop open the cardonnay! “Alright then, Chardonnay, Chardonnay, you pack of chunts!”

by Bruna Gomes

The Prime Minister is the leader of Australia, right? The Australian Constitution doesn’t think so. According to section 61, executive power is vested in the monarch as exercised by their Governor-General. What the Constitution doesn’t tell you is that the Governor-General’s power is subject to the PM’s advice. So while the Governor-General holds all the power, they’re practically powerless: a mostly invisible and ceremonial figure who signs the bills and drapes medals onto honourable Australians. Everyone can name the Prime Minister; you’d be lucky to find anyone who could name the Governor-General.

Recently, many learned the name, David Hurley, for the first time. It was revealed that former Prime Minister Scott Morrison advised Governor-General Hurley to appoint Morrison to five ministries without informing the government or the public. Bound by conventions, the Governor-General followed the Prime Minister’s advice.

The press grilled the former PM. How could he fail to inform the public? But others targeted the Governor-General. How could he let this happen? Why didn’t he question Morrison’s advice? Why didn’t he require public disclosure? For the first time in years, the Governor-General was thrust into the spotlight, and whenever this happens, the natural question arises: why do we even have a governor-general in the first place? Why aren’t we a republic?

Republics and Monarchies

A republic is a system of government where executive power is held by the people through their elected representatives. In contrast, a monarchy is where executive power is held by the monarch, a person who holds power until death or abdication.

Australia is a constitutional monarchy, a form of government where the monarch’s power is exercised in accordance with a prescribed constitution. This is opposed to an absolute monarchy such as Saudi Arabia where the King exercises absolute power. In this way, Australia maintains both a strong democracy and the monarchy’s sovereignty.

Much of our understanding of Australian politics doesn’t come from the text of the Constitution but rather, unwritten conventions rooted in the Westminster system of government. In this system, the Governor-General appoints the PM from the House of Representatives – specifically, the leader of the House majority – and acts on the PM’s advice. So while the Governor-General is the Australian head of state, it’s the PM who represents Australia on the world stage.

When discussing a possible Australian republic, we usually mean a “parliamentary republic.” This model is almost the same as our current system outside of one key aspect: the Crown and Governor-General are replaced with a President. This President would be a ceremonial head of state and would either be elected by the people, the Parliament, or appointed by the PM.

This is distinct from presidential republics such as the US. There, the president is elected by the people to be both head of government and head of state. In a parliamentary republic, we’d still look to the PM as our political leader while the President replaces the Gover-

nor-General who, like the Governor-General, would only act on the PM’s advice. That begs the question: if a ceremonial head of state only acts on the advice of the PM, then what’s the point of a Governor-General or President? Shouldn’t we just abolish the office altogether and make the PM the head of government and head of state?

What’s the Point of a Ceremonial Head of State?

While the Governor-General can only act on the PM’s advice, there’s one exception. By convention, the Governor-General has “reserve powers” that they can exercise at their discretion, such as the power to dismiss government ministers. Supporters for a separate head of state say reserve powers are a check on the government of the day, allowing for a Governor-General or President to act as a “constitutional umpire.” However, the use of reserve powers is rare.

This brings us to the “Dismissal”. In 1975, the Whitlam Government was blocked by the Fraser Opposition in the Senate from passing supply (money bills) until the PM called for an election. When the PM finally caved and advised the Governor-General to call a half-Senate election, the Governor-General refused. Instead, he dismissed Whitlam’s government, a power exercisable in situations where supply cannot pass the Senate. While the Governor-General acted within his legal right, there was intense public outcry that an unelected official could dismiss an elected government. Almost half a century later, the Dismissal remains controversial. However, if we expect a head of state to act as a “constitutional umpire,” then reserve powers are necessary. This feeds into the expectation that an apolitical Governor-General or President will intervene to protect our democratic institutions in the event of a constitutional crisis. Outside of politics, a ceremonial head of state is important as a “symbol of national identity” in the same way that the King or Queen is a symbol for the UK. According to the 2004 Road to a Republic report, a separate head of state wouldn’t merely be a rubber stamper but one who “promotes the unity of the nation.”

If a separate head of state is necessary as a national symbol and constitutional umpire, then the question of a republic is really: “Who do we want our head of state to represent?” If we want a symbol to represent Australia, should they, or should they not, carry its historical colonial connotations?

What Will It Take to Become a Republic?

To become a republic, there would need to be an amendment to the Constitution to replace the monarchy with a presidential office. While any legal amendment simply requires a majority in the House of Representatives, a constitutional amendment is more complicated. Because constitutional amendments concern the nation’s highest law, the people are required to vote in a referendum.

Section 128 of the Constitution states that a proposed law must be passed through both Houses before being presented to the electors. It must then achieve a double majority: first, a majority of the population nationwide; second, separate majorities in a majority of the states. If a double majority is achieved, the bill is presented for assent and is enacted. In the Commonwealth’s history, there have been 44 referendums. Only eight have passed. The last referendum was the 1999 referendum on a republic which only reached a nationwide vote of 45.13 per cent.

There were many reasons why the referendum failed. While the Hawke-Keating Labor Government adopted republicanism as a policy in 1991, the Coalition didn’t. In the months leading to the referendum, the Australians for Constitutional Monarchy presented a unified message: “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” Meanwhile, the Australian Republican Movement argued that the presence of the British monarchy in Australia’s Constitution prevented Australia’s institutions and symbols from being “unequivocally and unambiguously Australian.” However, the republican movement was divided over which republic model should be adopted: should a president be directly elected or should a president be appointed by Parliament? Ultimately, when the referendum proposed for the president to be appointed by a two-thirds majority in Parliament, many disappointed republicans voted “no.”

If republicans seek to win in a referendum, they should look to the most successful referendum: the 1967 Australian Referendum on Indigenous Australians, which won a 90.77 per cent majority. Its success has been attributed to a clear question, the bipartisan support of the Government and Opposition and the unchallenged campaign by pro-First Nations supporters.

Could an Australian Referendum Succeed Today?

A republic referendum is likely to be held, now that Queen Elizabeth II has passed away. As such, a debate on a republic is on the horizon with Prime Minister Anthony Albanese promising a republic referendum in a potential second term. At this point, an Australian Republic isn’t a matter of “if,” but “when.” A ceremonial head of state is important as an apolitical symbol and an additional check on government power. While a referendum wouldn’t change much in our political institutions, it’ll offer Australians the opportunity to decide what these symbols and institutions represent. The fact is, symbols are important and for many, the office of governor-general represents a foreign institution with a legacy of ‘unutterable shame’ which devastated Australia’s First Nations.

While a republic wouldn’t rectify the ongoing effects of dispossession, it would mark a symbolic step away from this history, a step toward Australia’s own identity and a step toward the “Australian values” that ex-Governor-General Sir William Deane echoed through his tearful shedding of golden wattles into the Saxtenbach River after the death of fourteen Australians in 1999: a gentle reminder of Australia’s place in the shared spirit of humanity.

by Bradley Cagauan

Summer Bay is everyone’s holiday getaway dream. For Grapeshot’s Aussie issue, I wanted to touch base with this cult classic. To gain first-hand insight into Australia’s creative industry, I interviewed a member of the Home and Away crew, who has worked on the show’s set for years.

Q: What do you enjoy most about working in the Australian creative industry, specifically on the set of Home and Away (H&A)?

A: I’ve always had an interest in films and filmmaking and we shoot only an hour away from my house so it seemed like a natural fit, right place, right time and all that. Specific to H&A, I would say, for the most part, it’s all the lovely people I’ve gotten to know and the location that pushes it up.

Q: How does it feel as an Australian working on a show with such a large international audience in an industry that often struggles to break through national borders?

A: While it’s definitely nice to have had a hand in making something that’s been seen by so many, I don’t take much pride from the perspective of it being uniquely Australian because (at least to me) it isn’t. Outside of its location (and there is a novelty to seeing that location on TV) the actual content of the show doesn’t reflect anything inherently Australian. I will say that the more recent inclusion of the Māori family has been a nice touch though, and many of my Māori and Polynesian friends have responded positively to that.

Q: The Summer Bay setting of H&A is iconic. What is it like working at the beach while you’re on set? Is it as romantic as it sounds?

A: Some days when the weather’s nice, it’s a dream. For a smaller production capturing sound with the wind and the waves and dealing with all the sandy equipment it would be a nightmare, but we have the budget and an incredible team of professionals that have been working down here for years that really helps streamline the process.

When the weather isn’t nice, however, you can spend long stretches huddled under the surf club or “KD” (a portable rain proof gazebo) waiting for the sun to come out from behind clouds or battling strong winds. We’re essentially completely at the mercy of the elements which hasn’t led to the best time this year with La Niña.

Q: H&A has a legacy of contributing to the career growth of Australia’s best actors. From Guy Pearce and Heath Ledger, to Isla Fisher and Chris Hemsworth, H&A was a home for internationally-acclaimed talent. How does it feel to contribute to this Australian legacy? To elaborate, do you think H&A is important to Australia’s creative industry, particular for those who are starting to make their way into film and television?

A: Definitely, behind and in front of the camera, the focus is of course on the world-famous actors, and I think it’s great that local actors get that opportunity in an incredibly saturated, hard industry to crack into. That being said, there are a number of younger grips and camera assistants who are getting their start behind the scenes and I think that should be applauded too.

It might be a little off-topic but having consistent work in this industry is also nothing to turn your nose up at. There’s a lot of jokes about how long the show has been dragged out for, but as many of the people on set are independent contractors, it’s incredible that they have any degree of job security, especially on a show that shows no signs of ever slowing down.

Q: Were there any boundaries you had to overcome while on set as a creative who is not directing/leading the project you’re working on?

A: At this stage in my career I wouldn’t expect (nor want) to direct something of its scale or budget, and even then the directors have their own constraints placed on them by the producers who have constraints on them from Channel Seven. There’s no one person in charge nor could there be on something that’s run for as long as it has. As for me, I have no issue starting small and working up.

Q: H&A has been known to controversially explore adult-rated topics and storylines during family-time broadcasting. How does H&W navigate the creative industry’s need to express emotional complexity while compressing and editing it into a PG-rated soap opera, and how do you think H&A has contributed to Australia’s television identity during its 34 years of broadcasting?

A: I watch no Australian television so I’d struggle to say, especially in regards to the long term landscape. Like you’ve said, however, they were known for exploring more controversial themes and subject matters in the early days, and considering ratings and censorship was a lot more conservative back then I can understand and appreciate their look into those topics.

Q: Working on the set of H&A, do you feel a sense of pride as an Australian in the creative industry? Do you think opportunities abroad would offer you more?

A: There is a certain novelty to turning on the TV and being greeted with Palm Beach and its recognizable landmarks. There’s not so much a sense of pride as there is a happiness that there’s still mass-consumable, highly profitable content being made by countries other than the States.

As for future opportunities, it definitely won’t hurt to have the name on my resume.

by Bruna Gomes

Image Source: Mark Horsnell

Castle Hill: once a rural out-of-the-way suburb, but now a sprawling new metropolis of apartments, dining, and the convenient drunken stumble home from the metro station at Castle Towers.

Castle Hill, home to the Bidjigal Clan of the Dharug people. This town is also referred to as Mogoaillee by Narguigui (Chief of South Creek in 1840); “mogo: refers to a stone hatchet and “aillee” is a denotative term for belonging.

Living in between the Hills Shire Council but bordering on the Hawkesbury Council, Castle Hill used to be a colony of rich orchards and farms which have all but disappeared with the suburb’s gentrification. The colonisation of Castle Hill dates to July 1801, when Governor King started the first European settlement in the area through the convict operation of the Castle Hill Government Farm. Built on a strong foundation of agricultural roots, this town’s abundant produce brought farmers to compete in the original 1886 Castle Hill Show (which ran up until 2016 before people realised the council wasn’t going to put any more effort into it). With Australia’s first convict uprising in 1804 where Irish convicts wanted to return to Ireland – the Battle of Vinegar Hill – Castle Hill carries its history through landmark buildings and heritage sites scattered on Old Northern Road.

I love my little suburb. Well, it’s not so little anymore; it only seems like yesterday that I had my Kindergarten picnic in the old Arthur Whitling Park across from Castle Towers. Under the cool shade, we all clutched onto our new build-a-bears and were in absolute awe of the beautiful flower gardens nearby. In its place is the new Arthur Whitling Park, attached to the back of the Metro, which does remind me somewhat of a giant glass cockroach.

It seems that as I’ve grown from childhood to adulthood, Castle Hill has transformed with me. While I could speak forever on the exciting plastic show bags from the

Castle Hill Show (sorry Dad for conning you into that one), letting go of the past and embracing the change of my suburb has allowed me to look back on those moments with gratitude. Although I easily reminisce on the core memories of going to Kernel Popcorn outside of Event Cinemas, the excitement of the new people brought in has finally cultivated a nightlife and brought a greater diversity of ethnic food grocers and eateries.

Maybe the phrase “nightlife” is a bit generous. It’s only recently that Castle Hill has expanded from its restaurants to include the infamous Hillside Hotel and their $12 espresso martinis on Friday nights. With the Castle Hill RSL also down an unusually long and seclusive road, finally we have a buzzing night-time economy. At last, the need to escape the Hills has transformed into the desire to stay in the Hills. This isn’t to say that I froth over the tremendously unproportionate new apartments towering over the Castle Hill metro station.

I recently asked some of my friends on Instagram in a public poll about the best and worst things about living here, and I had to agree with the majority: the damn convenience of the metro line.

I take for granted how connected the suburbs around me have become, and even travelling into the city has become less of a dreaded feeling. Whilst the roads themselves seem built to torment learner drivers (my blood boils remembering the Victoria Road roundabouts), the new swimming pool centre and convenience of shopping choices seem to outweigh the ageing conservative population in my town.

Try these recommendations from a Castle-Hillean herself: try Youeni if you are looking for a bougie plant-based menu for brunch, or Betty’s Burgers for a group dinner. However, if you’re looking for a cute date spot, there is a cute Italian candle-lit restaurant called Modo Mio on the corner of Terminus Street (though it gave my bank account some real damage). Castle Hill may not be as developed and thrilling as Chatswood, but we still have our own entertainment with escape rooms, bowling and, surprisingly, a museum discovery centre.

Castle Hill will always be home to me. Those reminders of driving down my leafy street during Autumn with the golden branches overhead make me grateful I live in a suburb that boasts so many green spaces. Being so close to the Bidjigal bush walk and having friendly visits from brush turkeys has had a huge impact on my identity growing up and influenced my respect and passion for the environment. With a new Green Corridor Plan implemented by the council, I can only hope Castle Hill further balances its development with the sustainability that so many of its residents strive for.

Perhaps you’ve never been to my not-so-quaint suburb Castle Hill. But it’s worth checking out the eateries at Towers and visiting Heritage Park for a picnic. Plus, who can argue with a $12 espresso martini night?

by Sophie Poredos