Blueprint student magazine issue 12

Issue #12 July 2018

A QUIRKY COMIC STRIP THAT HAS TO BE SEEN TO BE BELIEVED

What’s happening during July?

Funny and Sad Super Duper Short Stories

The Effin’ Review: The Incredibles 2

EDITORIAL This time of year is not only distinguished by the lingering nostalgia for kaleidoscopic rays of sunshine in the monotony of grey winter mornings, but also the opportunity for reflection and renewal in preparation for a new semester. For many, this may require confronting anxiously anticipated letters and numbers that seemingly have the potential to determine distant futures, yet for others, it may simply be the time to allow a well-worn out mind to rest. In whatever form you decide to utilise this opportunity, may you return for the new semester refreshed and bursting at the seams with creativity and zeal like the bright bouts of sunlight and welcoming weather we shall soon encounter on a more daily basis.

Whilst it may seem arduous in this current grim winter weather, Blueprint continues to strive to inspire and enlighten the students of Adelaide High with a thought-provoking collection of diverse pieces. Issue #12 features striking micro-fictions from the fresh, young imaginations of the school’s newest additions. These creative pieces are accompanied by the ingeniously natural banter dictating the latest edition of ‘The ‘Effin Review’. The wit and zest of this issue aims to illuminate the minds and souls of our students during what is commonly defined as a seemingly stagnant period in the school calendar year. ‘

Janna Tapales

EDITORIAL TEAM Editor-in-Chief : Mr Scott Macleod Front Cover Design: Francine Legaspi Editors: Gabriella Akele, Lahie Amat, Arnav Kapoor, Dain Lee, Francine Legaspi, Tiana Loechel, Jagreet Malhi, Mitchell Miller, Shardul Mulye, Thao Nguyen, Fei Stokes, Janna Tapales, Kim Van, Lilli Vitagliano

CALL FOR CONTRIBUTORS Calling all writers, artists, and creative types! We want your talented work for our thirteenth issue of Blueprint.

We are especially keen on your best: Fiction writing including (but not limited to) short narratives and stories, recounts, poetry, film and drama short scripts (no longer than 1000 words each) Short reviews of anything linked with the creative arts. This can include films, television, shows, music albums, live concerts, theatre production and are exhibitions (no longer than 250 words each) Non-Fiction writing of anything related to the school, local community, or creative arts. This can include food and travel writing, ‘How To’ articles, or any other topic relevant to the student readership (no longer than 1,000 words each) Artwork, graphic design, or illustrations Please email or submit contributions to Mr. Macleod (email: scott.macleod@adelaidehs.sa.edu.au (classroom – 124).

Alternatively, if you have any ideas for writing or artwork that you would like to contribute to the magazine, please contact one of the super helpful magazine editors listed above.

what ’s happening ?

july

02

01 world ufo day

creative ice cream day

04

national kitten day

chocolate day

17

13 world emoji day

national french fries day

20 national lollipop day

07

06

10

23

24 national cousins day

national junk food day

30

29 rain day

compliment your mirror day

international kissing day

sidewalk egg frying day

03

national cheesecake day

31

uncommon musical instrument day

NEWS WRITTEN BY | Shardul Mulye

THE RECENT ‘I’m locked in!’ : Man pleads for help on Twitter after falling asleep in a shop massage chair!

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An unwitting journalist gets robustly rubbed on the head with an inflatable banana after interviewee becomes enraged.

Man gets receipt-telling cook to spit in his food – Curtis Mays’ daughter and grand-daughter took him out to the Bohemian Hall and Beer Garden in New York for burgers and beer. Everything was fine – until they picked up the receipt. At that point, Curtis noticed something extremely disgusting. Along with the request to add cheddar cheese and mayo to his burger was this sinister directive: “Please spit in it too.”

A woman says Neil Armstrong gave her a vial of moon dust, and sues NASA to keep it – Laura Cicco

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said Armstrong was a family friend, and that her mother gave her a tube of priceless lunar particles when she was ten years of age, along with a note that read: “To Laura Ann Murray — Best of Luck — Neil Armstrong Apollo 11.” NASA has not confiscated the vial, but Cicco says she doesn’t want the space agency to take it, thus she filed a lawsuit on Wednesday to proactively assert her rights.

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Mr Macleod vs. Anthony Truong table tennis results – With “unfledged amateur” Anthony Truong’s comprehensive defeat of Mr. Macleod in badminton last month, a table tennis match was subsequently arranged to determine whether Truong in fact “got lucky”. Macleod’s unexpected athletic skills left Truong flailing for help and utterly exhausted. According to Mr. Macleod, the final scorecard was ultimately irrelevant.

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Judge orders thirty-year-old man to move out of his parents' house – Michael Rotondo was ordered to move out of his parents’ house after living rent free for over eight years, Despite being taken to court, Rotondo still did not get the hint, refusing to directly speak to his parents and strenuously arguing with Judge Greenwood that he was entitled to an additional six months stay before being evicted.

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DRINKING QUALI-TEA Written by Arnav Kapoor

B

ubble Tea’ is the term that describes a large variety of delicious fruit and milk teas, which are filled with chewy tapioca balls, or ‘pearls’, as they are more commonly known.

The drink originated in Taiwan during the 1980s and quickly rose to popularity throughout all of Asia. This heavenly beverage now has conquered our wondrous city of Adelaide, evident from the establishment of bubble tea mega chains, including Gong Cha and Chatime, in particular. A war between these two franchises has raged on, as the more low-key, independent bubble tea shops watched in sheer horror.

However, one of the lingering questions has always remained: which is the best bubble tea store in the city? As a self-professed bubble tea connoisseur, I have devoted all my attention over the last several weeks to comparing Gong Cha, Chatime, and the recently opened, Hi Tea, to decide the ‘Supreme Leader of Bubble Tea’ in Adelaide.

Which of these stores offers the most alluring taste, ambience, and bargain prices that have made us all addicted us to the sacred nectar that is bubble tea?

Chatime is definitely the most popular and mainstream of the three franchises. It serves as the Jay Leno to Gong Cha’s David Letterman – while it is undoubtedly the more popular, Gong Cha delivers the superior quality. Meanwhile, Hi Tea represents the Conan O'Brien in this situation, specifically as the newcomer bursting with potential.

The majority of Chatime’s sales result from the sale of their fruity teas, which are often served with lychee jelly instead of pearls. In comparison, Hi Tea is quickly becoming prominent due to their cheese foam lattes and fresh fruit teas. As a jack-of-all-trades, Gong Cha features many standouts in all categories.

Each place also sells a vast array of fruit teas: Chatime’s are somewhat competent, although ordering them with one hundred per cent sugar is a welcome invitation for diabetes. Gong Cha’s fruit teas are quite similar when compared to Chatime’s standard range; however, there still are a few extraordinary oddities, such as the extremely refreshing ‘Grape Tea’ and the intoxicating ‘Roselle Plum Tea’. In contrast, the range of fruit teas sold at Hi Tea may have struck the perfect balance between offering intense fresh fruit flavours and the remarkable capability to refresh the drinker.

Toppings are a necessity to a bubble tea – they are what differentiate a bubble tea from any other drink. Pearls are the most common and traditional topping, for they play a major part in the overall taste of the bubble tea.

Gong Cha is vastly superior to the other chains when it comes to pearls – to the point that it is like comparing a cinematic masterpiece like The Godfather to an embarrassing ‘Adam Sandler’ comedy. Gong Cha’s pearls are always deliciously chewy compared to Chatime’s sugar coated pearls. Meanwhile, Hi Tea does not offer any pearls or jelly in their drinks with the exception of the ‘Chocolate Milk

Tea’ and ‘Original Milk Tea’ flavours. However, their ‘Cheese Foam Latte’ is an absolutely amazing gem of a drink even without pearls.

The salty creaminess of the foam and the refreshing taste of the tea is one of the best feelings you can experience in this modern age of wild and wacky beverages.

Despite Chatime’s obvious weaknesses in terms of product quality, it is vastly superior to the other bubble tea franchises when it comes to ambience and setting. Chatime has many tables with comfortable sofa seats, instilling an air of cosiness. Gong Cha fails in this aspect, as it is designed as more of a take-away store.

The lack of facilities given the fact that the store is always very busy and crowded also makes sitting down and enjoying your tea quite difficult. Hi-Tea’s spacious surroundings and cushioned benches, akin to those that populate Chatime, encourage patrons to stay and soak up the tranquillity. .

If you are desiring the best quality bubble tea that money can buy, Gong Cha is the place to be. With that said, Hi Tea is an exciting new franchise that offers a breath of fresh air, which has become synonymous with its now trademark cheese foam lattes, thus definitely worth a visit. Although Chatime is certainly not the best when it comes to the quality of bubble teas, if you are looking for the ideal place to hang out with friends, while indulging in the bubble tea from the other premier establishments, check it out.

O’Sushi O’ Bento Written by Dain Lee

A

crooked table, clean but worn, was paired with a creaky chair.

There, in that very chair, sat a contemplative girl. She was only five years old with her cherry-red bag clutched between her small hands. Her eyes were large, and her lips were a crescent moon on her face. This was now her home. She looked around at the rows of crooked tables, all paired with their own creaky chairs. A village of shops hugged the large room, soon to be filled with the sound of shouts and cries, the clicking of the gas, oil hitting pans, plates being served, and orders being called.

However, of all the shops, with their flashy signs and welcoming tones, she could only stare at the one that she faced.

It greeted her with freshly painted walls and a glossy new menu. It welcomed her with its cosy little kitchen, the size of a bathroom, which was soon to contain the joy and hard work of humanity. Maybe it was birthday buzz, but the girl hummed softly, stars danced in her eyes, and she knew it was because this place was hers.

When she looked down, even the floor grinned back up at her, flaunting its polished coat, prepared for the storm of a new day that beckoned.

At six years old, the girl was in her first year of school, and she sat yet again in the same rickety seat, as she had done every day after school. She wiped the crumbs scattered at the corners of her mouth, and continued to munch on the bread from the shop a turn away, its warmth delicious on her hands on the frightful winter’s day. It was almost closing time. The rush of bodies pressing to get past or grab a seat had died down.

They had all gone home, with steamy takeaway knocking on the side of their legs as they walked, or with the smell of sweet spices enveloping the front seat of their cars. The girl looked wide-eyed at

the banner hung at the front of the shop: ‘One-Year Anniversary!’ The vibrant splashes of letters winked at her through the dim lights. Moments after, her mother was there, and in her hands, a freshly made bento box. From afar, the sound of the crunch of chicken drenched in sweet sauce could be heard, and the laughter of the two females thereafter.

By the time the girl was eleven years old, there had been more shops that had changed owners or had closed than those that had not. It had been a Friday, which was always the busiest day of all. Upon the girl’s arrival, she had found her seat taken, and letting out an exasperated sigh, reluctantly sat on another chair three seats down. From this seat, she faced the neighbouring shop, and watched as customers came by. She scrutinised as they approached their steaming bowls, as one would with a heavy box, gripping it this way and that before walking back to their seats. Occasionally, the girl would give in to the perfumes of miso and sweet soy sauce, and find herself buying noodles of some sort. The soup would always be a little too bland, but the noodles would be scrumptiously soft, and she would feel toasty afterwards.

The girl’s eyes followed once again to the banner hung at the front of their shop.

They had continued to use the same banner for the years to follow, which remained as bold as ever, featuring a lemon yellow six in the place of the one.

Beneath the banner stood kids, parents, the elderly, businessmen and women, and a frantic cashier at the start of the lengthy line. The line led her eyes to the end of the queue, eventually drifting to the shop on the left. At the counter stood the owner, a rehearsed smile plastered on her face.

She was the third owner the girl had come to know, and although they were both

Korean, conversations were a rarity. Their steamed beef hotpot had come to be her favourite, but the reason perhaps belonged to the lack of Korean restaurants in the area.

The fifteen -year-old girl now found her way to her seat, fatigued but content, older but at home. Sometimes life would be too loud, and she sat on the chair as she watched the world play on. Babies cried, boys giggled, girls whined, lovers embraced, old friends reunited, mothers fed children, the bells sung, dropped spoons clattered, knives chopped on wooden boards, the shouts of orders were called. And the chatter. The chatter under everything. The chatter of business partners, friends, loved ones, acquaintances, and the myriad of languages representing over one hundred different countries. When she closed her eyes, she could almost see the smells – something sweet, something sour, something fried. The room was now older, rougher on the edges, but always consumed with love. At the end of the day, when the lights turned off and the doors were locked, she looked down, and the floor grinned back up at her, flaunting its polished coat, prepared for the storm of a new day that beckoned.

Let’s go!

Im bored THE MUSICAL

Oooh.. What’s that?

Should we?

LIMELAWN

Are we gonna have enough time?

MENU

I don’t know?

It feels like we’ve been waiting for ever.

6:40

The play starts in 20 minutes..

20 minutes

Finally.

Oops..

Just eat it. Now. Let’s go We have 5 minutes left.

Do you even know where it is? adelaide THEATRE

We’re nearly there

Ummm..

About that.

There you go, 2 tickets for ‘The Girl Behind the Sweater’

Pass me my ticket.

Where is my ticket?

Ugh..

SoME GIRLS

Here

Oh. The play has already started.. we can’t let you in

Why are we like this?

Comedy Micro Fictions \ cat and mouse

By Faith Fitton-Gum His tail tip twitched and his paws edged closer to the wall. His sharp gaze shot to the other side of the wall, as the scramble of clumsy feet caught his attention. His ears, which were as big as copper coins, swivelled back and forth, until he located the source of the racket. He rested his blazing eyes on a warm, fluffy body. He raised one paw, and the race began. Paws scrambled, screeches sounded, and the two creatures clashed until, finally, he prevailed. The mouse had caught the cat.

next-door neighbour

By Rishika Jain I wish I could say the voice was like chimes tinkling in the wind or a harmony of angels, but unfortunately it was not.

It was rough, strident, and it irritated every part of me. I tried to forget about the voice, but it continued to haunt me like a persistent ringing in my ear. I slowly knocked on the door and a woman came out.

“Yay, it finally worked!” she utterly in a cheerful tone.

“Excuse me?”

“My chant, it lures people to me.”

“Well… it sure did…”

I did not have the courage, nor the heart, to tell her why…

snake pain

By Daniel Vu The inconspicuous shadow of the snake haunted me every day, hour, and minute. My eye was one with it for every slight and subtle movement. I felt trapped in my mind – overwhelmed by debilitating fear. This feeling ran furiously through my body. Every minute, I slowly crept closely, anticipating the sensation. Finally, I was face-to-face with it. It stared at me. It was as if I had stared at its face for a century, familiarising myself with every one of its characteristics.

My brain felt numb – I could barely breathe. Suddenly, the time had come.

“Honey, you can have your gummy snake now.”

pulled under

By Tyler Williams I struggled to stay afloat as the mysterious creature in the depths pulled me down with unrivalled ferocity. With an almighty tug, the air was savagely taken from my lungs. I cried out for help – kicking and struggling in a desperate attempt to escape. The creature maintained its grip and constantly prevented my futile attempts to loosen its hold. I cried out yet again, as the sound of footsteps beckoned near. I was then blinded by a sudden flash.

Tragedy Micro Fictions

By Amelia Tran At night, that same little girl would wait under the same flickering lamp post, fiddling with her skirt, as if she was waiting for eternity. People in the neighbourhood would frequently approach her and ask: “Are you waiting for someone?”

She would just respond with, “I’m waiting for the people up there.” She would then point up at the sky and the neighbours would just smile sadly and nod. As they were leaving, they would emit a long, exasperated sigh.

Then one day, that same little girl wasn’t waiting under the flickering lamp post. The neighbours started to worry, until one found on the lamp post a weathered note, which read: I’ve gone home.

11

By Rishika Jain That day she drowned in silence, desperate for his warmth. As the crowd grew, she felt the room grow dark and depressed. He was long gone, yet she could still feel his presence. What once felt sweet now had turned sour. Misery was evident in her eyes, and her face drained of colour, but her hands still clutched on to what felt like the last strand of hope. A kaleidoscope of tears formed as she started to finally let go – let go of it all because he was just a ghost now.

By Hamish Anderson I lived in a small town called Weatherville. It used to be a beautiful spot where I would run through the fields with my pet dog, brushing my hands against the grass as I ran with the wind. Occasionally, on blissful summer afternoons, I would stop by the river and feed the ducks. This would always bring a smile to my face. But that’s all gone now… Now everything is vast buildings and chaotic streets. No peaceful ponds or grass to brush through my hands. No pet dog or feeding of the ducks. Just people. And that’s how it will be forever…

By Ollie Burr The memory was not one they wanted to keep. They believed that they had removed all ties to it – the house, the tricycle, even the car. As they unpacked in their new house, however, Carl found himself petrified by the sight of a familiar box in the moving truck. Attached to it was a card addressed to mummy and daddy. With the purest of sadness, Carl opened the card and found a simple message – I love you. Carl showed the card to Sue, and taking the hand-crafted doll out of the box, they shared their last memory with their daughter.

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11

Written by Elise Capasso

I

n the dead of night, the silence is deafening. You could hear a pin drop.

A couple of streetlights are flashing repeatedly. All the shops are now closed and empty, dark windows lining up one after the other. I want to turn back, but they’ll catch me. There is one other person here though. He keeps following me, staring at me dead in the eye. He’s never been this side of town. His eyes glisten with the streetlights shining above him. Shadows are moving along his face, covering his guilt. What does he want from me?

His hair is drenched in sweat. Lifting the dead weight must’ve been really hard for him. He is not the fittest; his arms are as skinny as the mannequins I see in the shop windows I pass. How can he be walking so calmly after what he did? He’s a monster. What must his family think of him? They don’t know yet, no one does.

What will happen to me after tonight?

My life won’t be the same, but it’s the right thing to do. I look back at the man in disgust. How did he have the strength to do what he did? I glance at my cold feet.

I guess she started it, or maybe it was the argument? She insisted on leaving because of that job. She couldn’t just

leave me, the house, the city... What was I going to do alone? I wouldn’t let her. I couldn’t. I have no job. She was the only thing supporting us. Without her high income, we wouldn't have a house. We fought for a while, but nothing seemed to be getting resolved. She was so eager to move to a new city, seek out a new start. She promised me she’d come back to visit regularly. I didn’t believe her – I never did. She didn’t want me to come with her. I felt like she just wanted to leave me. She must’ve been planning this for a couple months. She said she had everything all figured out. The house she would be staying in, the car to rent, and she even knew her way around Melbourne. It all seemed too perfect to me. I didn’t trust her.

I now understand why that man did this. I don’t really think he knew what he would get himself into. I check if the man is still following me. I stop walking and he does too. We stare at each other. The flickering street light casts a weak shadow on him. I notice his hands are dirty; we’re so close, I can see the dirt under his fingernails. I turn back around and we keep walking. I focus on him. It happened all so quickly. What’s done is done. He can’t fix it, take it back, or forgive himself. He’s psychotic. His life

will never be normal. Flashbacks of screams and her dark fearful eyes will haunt him forever. I can already see them now.

I focus on him, scanning him up and down. I walk past one shop with lights in the window. I notice the man has some sort of odd pattern on his top. It’s the same pattern on his pants. It’s on his shoes too. I squint my eyes to see that the pattern isn’t so much of a pattern at all. It’s all scattered and uneven. As he turns around, I realise blood is splattered all over him. How hasn’t anyone noticed?

There must be someone else walking around. Or maybe a car drove by and… called the police. Do they already know?

Are they looking for him? He deserves everything that’s coming to him.

I finally walk up to the building. I hesitate.

This is where it all finishes and this is where it starts. I turn and look at the man for the last time. He looks weary. I look down at the steps in resignation and slowly push open the heavy glass door.

The officer looks at me. He puts down the phone without saying anything and jumps up from his seat, knocking over his paperwork.

“Why is there blood on your shirt?”

The leeches doorway Inspired by Teri Terry’s novel ‘Slated’ t was when I saw the blade from the angle grinder glisten – that merciless, unforgiving silver flash before my eyes – I realised I was about to partake in the most deathly of gambles. My heart drummed a rhythmical beat in my chest, unaware of the event that would rocket it to a crescendo of chaotic cacophony within mere seconds.

I knew that the device, the Levo, on my arm had to be removed, and the saw was the only way. I remember as I looked at the blade, I realised that the pain would be agonising, yet thinking about it pumped adrenaline through my body like wildfire.

I

As I observed my surroundings, I felt a pang of regret, and began almost second-guessing my plan. My parents’ garage was nothing extraordinary – there were shelves of inanimate objects that lay in disorderly piles, while years of dust caked everything like icing. Small tears began to well up in my eyes, but I wiped them away as quickly as they came. I knew that the more I contemplated my subsequent actions, the more uncertain I would become. The angle grinder was the doorway to salvation, and to the greatest right of all – the right to freedom. Oh, how I longed for freedom, for it was the only thing I had been denied until now…

Anything that would invoke negative emotions meant my Levo would cause an unbearable amount of pain. My Levo – the device on my wrist that regulated my feelings, and was the culprit of my ever-growing paranoia. It was a leech that slowly drained my humanity. I would have to constantly regulate every action, choice, and even every thought to ensure the leech would not torment me.

The leech was my lord, and I its slave,

consequently forcing me to maintain a mask of happiness to conceal my inner torment.

Those around me said I was in a better place, specifically how I had been brought back to life as ‘Ben Nix’, but I knew better. I was a criminal before being slated, and my ‘second chance’ was a mere ruse to gain intel against the rebels. How could I be so gullible? When I learnt of my origin, the veil of false redemption was torn to shreds, the truth clearing my head full of the spoon-fed lies. The door was open, although only for a moment, but a moment was all I needed to escape.

As I thought about my chance at gaining this freedom, I felt that the Levo was starting to sense my euphoric excitement, and began its infliction of pain. The ache struck as swiftly as a grasshopper strikes it prey, making me double over. I was unaccustomed to such a sudden reaction from the leech, and I knew instantly that it was frightened of this new sensation. I got back up, my ears still ringing, and became even more determined to break free of the chains that had held me captive all these years. As I sobered from the shock, I reached into my satchel that lay under a weathered wooden table and grabbed a bottle of pills.

They were called ‘happy pills’ – a concentrated solution of utter bliss.

Their potency had only one purpose, which was to overwhelm the leech into submission. At the very sight of the pills, my head began pulsating. The leech was forewarned. I had heeded its cautions in the past, but a sense of invulnerability had slowly risen, akin to the soldier

within courageously sharpening his blade, preparing for the ghastly battle that was about to take place. Was it foolishness or valour? Utter stupidity or bravery?

II emptied the contents of the bottle into my mouth, unsure of what the outcome may be. Was this a good idea? As soon as I had ingested the pills, I felt a bubbly sensation in my stomach, like an effervescent tablet fizzing in water.

With my pupils dilating, everything suddenly shifted into focus. For a few seconds, I could hear each individual flickering of the broken tube light above me, an otherwise pin drop silence instantly becoming an audible metropolis of rusting nails, crawling insects, and peeling paint. As suddenly as the sensation came, the overload haltered to an abrupt stop. The leech was stunned and the door was open – wider than ever before – light radiating through it like a beacon of hope.

Enraged, the leech devoured my body whole, every fibre shrieking for mercy.

Could I hold my ground? I had the upper hand, and succumbing to the leech wasn’t an option any more. I switched the angle grinder on, its deafening roar added to the pandemonium, taking place in my body. With one swift motion, I brought the grinder down onto the leech, and for once, I knew we both screamed as one entity – as equals. No longer the master, the leech finally admitted its defeat. It was if it began its descent into eternal darkness, as I triumphantly stepped over the doorway, and into the light of liberation.

Written by Jagreet Malhi

‘Medicinal Leech’ Courtesy of John H. Finley

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What was the film about?

FRANKIE: It was a continuation of the first Incredibles film that came out in 2004 – a really long time ago. I was a child.

FEI: If you haven’t seen the first film, then what are you doing here? Go away and watch it.

FRANKIE: It centres around a family that all have superpowers.

The parents themselves were superheroes beforehand, but there was a new law established to make superheroes illegal, and the first film was about them trying to live normal lives, but finding out that they couldn’t. The second film is about someone trying to introduce superheroes back into society, to make superheroes ‘un-illegal’.

FEI: So long story short, it’s about a family with superpowers. It picks up right where the last film left off, so they have to fight crime, but in a world where superheroes are illegal Incredibles 2 Nucleus Gallery Art courtesy of Bryan Mon

Why did you see it?

FRANKIE: I saw it because I saw the first Incredibles film when I was very, very young and it’s sort of a piece of my childhood that’s been ingrained into my memory. The open ending where the first film left off had everybody demanding a sequel.

FEI: I just thought it would be fun to watch it with some friends.

FRANKIE: Mine has actual sentimental value.

FEI: A little bit because I’d seen the original, but not so much because I’m attached to the film, but because I thought it would be fun to watch with some friends.

Why did you see it?

FRANKIE: It was absolutely amazing. Seeing the difference in animation – I personally love animation – the difference from the first film and how much better the graphics have gotten over the years and the stunning visuals that the film had was really great to see and I just love the whole look. It made me feel nostalgic of my childhood. Also the short film beforehand made me cry.

FEI: I’d never seen a Disney short film before. I didn’t know they had them, so I was so confused about what it was and my friends were all like ‘haven’t you ever seen one of these before?’ And then it was better than the actual film. Okay, no, it wasn’t, because Incredibles 2 was actually really good.

FRANKIE: I cried.

FEI: It had serious moments, but also funny moments. Lots of the moments were so heartfelt, and because it involved both characters that were adults and children, it could speak to a lot of people.

FRANKIE: It still has that family dynamic where a lot of people can relate to and sympathise with the characters, and sort of go ‘haha I do that’, even though they’re superheroes.

FEI: So much of the comedy was so perfectly timed. It was hilarious.

FRANKIE: The narrative was really cool and interesting to see. I forgot that it took place in a 1950s setting, which is kind of different from the films we see today.

FEI: Oh my gosh!

FEI: Except it’s weird because they have all this technology we don’t have.

FRANKIE: I sobbed.

FRANKIE: Yeah. It was just great.

What’s the hype?

FRANKIE: Well, the hype is that it’s been so long since the first Incredibles film and everybody lost it when the trailer came out for the second film.

FEI: Yeah, the first film left off on kind of a cliff-hanger.

FRANKIE: So everyone was like ‘we DEMAND’ and Pixar just gave the people what they wanted.

FEI: It’s been fourteen years since the first film, so it’s a really, really long awaited resolution to a cliff-hanger.

FRANKIE: It’s older people going: ‘yes! Finally!’ and younger people going: ‘oh my gosh, this looks cool’, and that’s all the hype

If you could describe the film in one word, what would it be?

FEI: I’m going to have to say it guys, I’m gonna have to say it.

FRANKIE: On the count of three: 3, 2, 1.

FRANKIE & FEI:

Who should see this film?

FRANKIE: This film is “aimed at children”, but I saw groups of adults at the cinema I went to.

FEI: No one in the cinema was under twenty years old. I think my friends and I were the youngest people there.

FRANKIE: So again, everyone can see this film. It’s really heartwarming, funny, and quirky. It looks amazing.

*muffled laughter*

FEI: If you saw the first Incredibles movie back when you were a child – if you’re between the ages of fifteen and thirty – you should see this film.

FRANKIE: And if you’ve never seen an Incredibles film before, I recommend it. If you love action movies with bright colours, good stories, and good characters, this is for you.

The Incredible Family courtesy of Ted Newton