If you could change the choices you’ve made, would you want to keep them or upgrade them for something else?

I am on my way to London, in transit at Abu Dhabi airport. It’s a long flight and I’m flying solo. So, I’ve got time to mull over things, stuff like my life choices mostly. I shuffle, sip coffee, think back and stare out the window, waiting for the 380 airbus and my final leg. As I wait, my mind begins to revisit ‘turning points’ from my past. “What if I didn’t make that decision, then? What if I ‘did this’ instead of ‘doing that?’ Would I still be flying solo?

‘Believin’ is the answer to all your fears’

It’s been several decades since I studied directing and lived in London. This is my first trip back, not sure why I took so long to return to the UK. I guess shit happens.

On the way to Melbourne airport, I listened to Lisa Stansfield’s song ‘Change‘ on the tram. Lisa sings, if I could change the way I live my life today, I wouldn’t change a single thing. It might be the 3 sleeping pills I knocked back on the first leg of my plane trip, but thinking about Lisa’s words over coffee, I’m not sure I feel the same way.

They say change is as good as a holiday. But, is it? I’ve had a lot of change forced upon me. There’s been breakups, several deaths and missed opportunities, like most people I guess. Of course, a lot ‘choices’ I’ve made have worked out spectacularly well, while other ‘changes’ have been hopeless. But, what if I could take all my mistakes, the lemons of my life, and miraculously turn them into jugs of fresh lemonade, would I be happier than I am now? Would I still be flying solo to London? Would my life be more rewarding?

‘I’ll always be there and I’ll always care’

The truth is my spectacular failures made me the person I am, they’re ‘original’ and all mine. No one else in the world has them as back catalogue, except me. I guess that’s okay, then?

I finish my coffee, check my boarding time and switch on my iPhone. I open my Facebook app and reread the entry I posted 14 hours earlier in Melbourne.

Lisa and I have been through a lot over the years including breakups, bad hair and no hair. And, more recently a shocking bout of ‘high anxiety’ just before I left for London, alone. A glass of wine at the airport, Lisa singing about ‘Change’ on my iPhone, and I’m now feelin’ funky and ready for the next big chapter? Change? Bring it on!

About the author – Noel Anderson has worked in film and theatre and is currently adapting his play Sammy & Dave into a film, about two bisexual-married men who rendezvous for a one night stand. Based on a true story.

‘Good people drink good beer’

There are some things we’ve done away with that won’t ever come back, that’s good to let go of… like having to hand wash your clothes, like we did before washing machines were invented. Then there are things we’ve forgotten we need, like human connection beyond our iPhone and our laptops. A conundrum of modern life in most large cities. Recently on a trip to old London Town I was reminded of this. In a world gone mad with the possibility to connect or reconnect with more people than ever before, we appear to be isolating ourselves, going in reverse-cycle. Can we tune into each other again and put our iPhone away?

I’m in a pub in Holborn in central London on a warm night, and believe it or not there is no music playing inside the bar. The punters, mixed in age, are being forced to communicate in a music free venue. The pub is busy, everyone is talking, no one is yelling over loud ‘thump-thump’ music pumped out of cheap sound systems, like you’d find on a stroll down Chapel Street in Melbourne on any given night. At first, to be honest, I didn’t notice the lack of music, I just order a pure brewed organic lager, as you do, and found comfortable a seat. But, gradually as I sipped my beer, my mind started to search around for sound and the thump-thump-thump. But, there was none.

“I come here all the time,” a woman in her 40’s propped up at the bar told me. “I love it. This is one of the best pubs in London. Honest!”

“But, there’s no music being played. Is that normal?” I ask.

“That’s right. No they don’t play it at all. You can go to any of their pubs, they’re all over London you know, and there’s no music in any of them. They’re all like this. Everyone’s chattin’. I luv’em. Look around,” she smiled and finished drinking her fruit lager.

‘There’s no music playing’

A pub with no music, who thought of that? I ordered another pure organic pint and snuggled up close to the bar. It did indeed appear to be working, everyone was talking, even me, a total stranger in town, talking to the people around me in the pub. “I am just going to take some photos, if you don’t mind,” I tell the barman who is wearing a T-shirt stating ‘good people drink good beer’.

“Are you a famous writer or something?” he asked.

“No I’m just one of those annoying people who just keep at it, because I can’t think of anything else to do,” and I pull out my iPhone.

“Here, take one of me. Go on then.” He stands close to the bar pretending to pour a brewed beer and smiles. I snap a picture. Too easy. I look around the ornate pub and think, ‘this is probably the best pub in the West End… or the world. Lucky me’.

“It’s good here ain’t it” a young bloke across from me calls out, slightly pissed. “I just popped in for a few on’me way home. I live with’me sister, she’s cooked dinner. I best go after this one.”

“I’m from Australia” I announce unexpectedly.

“I can tell. How long are you here for?” he asked, sipping his organic pint of pure beer.

“Three weeks. I use to live here. A long time ago. I’ve a few days in Paris this weekend, then back to London. Just here on hols”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Hols. Short for holiday. Australians shorten everything, all of us do,” I smile.

As I drank, I chatted. I chatted with the barman, then the barmaid. We talked about Europe and organic beer, naturally. I finished my pint and I left. In the two hours I sat in the pub, I can’t recall anyone taking out their phone. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure they did, but I didn’t notice because I was too busy talking absolute rubbish to total strangers. Just passing the time of day or what we use to call, shooting the breeze.

I walked back to the hotel and started to sing Slim Dusty’s classic Aussie song A Pub With No Beer.

It’s lonesome away, from your kindred and all

By the campfire at night, where the wild dingoes call

But there’s nothing so lonesome, so morbid or drear

Than to stand in a bar, of a pub with no beer

I took the lift to the 7th floor, brushed my teeth, stripped naked and tucked myself into bed. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear tomorrow calling me. I turned over, pulling the sheet up over my head. I must wash my clothes first thing in the morning before I head to Paris for the weekend, I thought. Then, I gently sang myself to sleep.

About the author – Noel Anderson has worked in film and theatre and is featured in Breaking the Code a two day symposium for writers/authors, 6-7th Oct 2018. Noel is currently adapting his play Sammy & Dave into a film, about two bisexual-married men who rendezvous for a one night stand. Based on a true story.

Welcome to make an independent feature film. If you are reading this I’m guessing you like movies or maybe you’d like to be involved in Aussie filmmaking, or you’re a professional who has checked in to check us out. No worries, it’s all good. Welcome to the Rendezvous Hotel 😜 Remember Hollywood wasn’t built in a day. Lets check-in.

This could be your lucky break! 

So, you’d like to make an independent movie? Get involved? Then how about this? Sammy and Dave is a one night stand love story about two bisexual men, unhappy with their married lives, who meet by accident late at night in a city hotel room, the Rendezvous Hotel. They laugh, they cry, they have sex and recall the moments, good and bad, that have lead them to the hotel bed.

History is important!

INFO – The history of the original story. Sammy and Dave – Unlucky in Love is based on a real life incident and a successful R rated play of the same name by Noel Anderson. It played to capacity crowds upstairs at the rough Sandringham (Sando) Hotel in 90’s.
“I remember the actors struggling to be heard over heavy metal bands in the band room down below us” writer/director Noel Anderson recalls. “We performed it in the inner Sydney suburb of Newtown…people really got into the intimate story and the crazy atmosphere of the dodgy old pub…I mean who would set a bisexual fantasy in a setting like that?”

“There were rough-nuts throwing back beers downstairs…while upstairs we had the queer community, the raincoat brigade, liberal minded straights and bi-curious sipping champers. The crowd loved the romance, comedy and sex. Eventually Sammy and Dave was picked up by Griffin Theatre Company, and went respectable. The play transferred to the trendy Stables Theatre in Kings Cross where it ran late nights with full houses.”

1994 and Sammy and Dave’s success!

Sammy and Dave is set in 1994. The story came at a time when the world was dominated by plays, TV shows and films about AIDS. Everyone in queer community knew someone who had died, friends, fathers and lovers. Sammy and Dave’s one night romantic fling proved a welcome relief for the late night theatre crowd and gay community, who lapped up the sexual fantasy, while questionng the true meaning of love and lust.

‘MEETUP and fellow Melbourne creatives slide into bed with Sammy and Dave ‘

Noel Anderson has taken an usual approach of launching the film to the indie film community on the social media platform  Melbourne Meetup .  He plans to keep running the group as a hub for indie artists to connect and create together. “If you have skill that can be used on a film set or in a film crew, from makeup to cameraman, admin to editor, whatever really, costumes or set, then I’d see you at one of the make-an -indie-film-Meetup’s. Together let’s create and stronger film community in Melbourne and go make an Aussie Independent feature films.”

Why Sammy and Dave? 😀

“Sammy and Dave is a good subject for a film, due to limited locations, in fact I want to build a set, the hotel room. Utilise my theatre background”

“I was inspired by the style of Francis Ford Coppola’s One From The Heart, and also two Alfred Hitchcock movies based on stage plays, Rope and Dial M For Murder. I love Hitchcock, but no one dies in Sammy and Dave, and the suspense comes from ‘will they or will won’t they have great sex?.’ I want to roll back the clock, to a different Australia, a different scene, straight …and gay. I think film audiences will fall in love with Sammy and Dave, as much as the theatre audiences did in the early 90’s”

You can contact Noel Anderson on Facebook or join up on Melbourne Meetup (link above)

“Well, maybe I sound pessimistic, but let’s face the facts, falling in love can be a bitch.” – Dave an Australian married businessman.

Checkout Sammy and Dave Trailer

Birthdays are only as good as the last Adele song you’ve listened to recently. Eating crispy skin chicken with vegetables (perfect ketones dinner) a week before I declare my last year over and done with, I ponder my journey from my home town to now over a Sav Blanc, served in a cheap glass at the China Bar on Brunswick street, comforted by the fact that the chicken is bloody tasty.

The last decade has gone fast, just like a good pop song I decide, over in 3 minutes.  Adele’s voice on radio fills the Chinese kitchen, smoke billowing towards the ceiling, spilling into the restaurant. If this is to be, I think to myself, my last birthday before I set fire to it, would I be happy with the songs I’ve sung? Would I be satisfied with those I have loved ? And the art I’ve left behind? No I would not be happy, or fulfilled I believe, tugging the crispy skin clean off the chicken leg with my teeth just as Adele finishes Rolling in the Deep. This realisation of my scars draws my attention to two young hipsters seated on the table beside me, the boy wearing a Nervo T-Shirt and the girl wearing a flowered jacket. Seated together in total silence, they finish off a large plate of sizzling beef just as the waitress snatches my bones away…chicken bones that is, removing my plate from the table.

As I leave, pulling my hoodie over my head, I notice all the people in the restaurant on Friday at 9.30pm are… coupled. I am the only one alone? How’d that happen? But, is this what I want? Silence over sizzling beef, coupledom over cheap Chinese chop sticks? Is this what I dream of? Nervo, flower power jackets served up on a hot bed of white boiled rice? I decide there and then it’s too early in night to answer my eternal questioning, so I cowardly push all thoughts aside. I pay my bill and I leave, thankful for the cheap wine, Adele songs, tasty meal and full tummy.

‘Baby don’t let the lights go out’

Outside in the fresh winter air, I walk by crowded music joints, nightclubs, and more young hipsters. I examine my fading smile, reflected back at me in a book shop window, I could have had it all, I think? Looking up I notice the street peppered with large black and white posters that announce with drum roll – ‘You Are All The Same.’

Am I the same as everyone else? Are we all the same as each other?

I pray this is not true and turn the corner, making my way to a drag club on Johnston Street just as it starts to rain. Inside I order a skinny bitch in a short glass and sit watching the 10.30pm show. ‘It’s a week before your next birthday’ pops-up in my head, much like a TV news flash or a storm warning. Hurricane Andy! Who stole my time? Where’s it gone? It won’t be coming back anytime soon I conclude and quickly down my drink and order another. Hurricane Skinny Bitch!

My thoughts are interrupted by someone who knows me, a crew member who worked on a play I wrote and directed for Midsumma called ‘Andy Warhol’s 15 Minutes of Fame’ back in 2013.

“Hello. It’s me?” I didn’t recognise her, she’d changed.

Noel? Is that you?” she asked, her voice breaking my constant internal dialogue. “How are you?”

Is it me? I must wake up.

“How is your mother?” I ask her.

I am the sum of the songs I’ve sung, parts I’ve played. The damage I’ve caused.

“Mum is well” she answered, adjusting her blonde hair.

I am my losses. My loves. My doubts. My past, not perfect. But, it’s mine? I am not the same. Let it burn I think.

Back to reality, I chatted for a bit to my friend, watched the next show, downed my final skinny bitch and left the club, comfortable in my hoodie and the damp cold air.

As birthdays go, I’m not sure yet if this next one will be memorable but it is a good time to put the house in order I realise, rearrange old values, toss out those old clothes and set fresh challenges.

As I pass Naked for Satan I hear Adele singing somewhere in the distance, her English accent reminding me of when I was young. Album 19, 21, 25 … then, 27, 32, 42, 47, the years I recall as memorable… to me. Turning points, turning tables, songs and albums, tracks of unequalled pain and bittersweet romance. Somewhere, someday, I know there will be a new fire starting in my heart. I have at least one album left inside of me, I think, maybe two?…I am not counting.

Adele singing Skyfall fades away as I turn into Smith Street, make my way along the road, chasing pavements. I button up my jacket and I disappear under the glow of the street lights, neon signs and boutique beer. Nothing matters, old friends and rumours lost in the dance of life, memories like lovers, ‘water under the bridge.’

ABOUT THE AUTHOR – Noel has directed over 50 theatrical productions and worked in film and TV. He completed NIDA’s Playwright Studio in 1996. Noel’s written work includes the play Andy Warhol’s Fifteen Minutes of Fame and the musical Audrey Hepburn and I Consider Our Assets. Learn more: Noel Anderson Website

‘You don’t know, when will you know? When we are all dead’ – The Birds

Thrillers I Love by Noel Anderson

I’m 15 and at the the St James cinema in Beverly Hills with a mate from school. We shuffle down the line, grab a movie ticket, a choctop and an orange cordial drink from the candy bar, we feel like we’re in heaven. We feel this way because the cinema is screening a couple of thrillers, a Sunday arvo double feature. The movies are The Birds and Psycho starring Anthony Perkins.

‘We all go a little mad sometimes’ – Norman Bates

I hand our tickets to to the usher, pick a seat and wait for the picture to start. The Birds is up first. I chomp into my choctop just as Melanie Daniels (Tippi Hedren) enters the pet store looking for a pair love birds, where she encounters handsome Mitch Brenner, played by fellow Aussie Rod Taylor. That screening introduced me to my first real idol, Alfred Hitchcock. Back then I was a pimply-talkative kid with a vivid imagination, not much has changed. I miss those days, those unforgettable screen characters from my youth. When I think of them now, they feel like distant friends or relatives.  I thought it might be fun to reminisce a little, using the letters T-H-R-I-L-L-E-R -S as a trigger, and see what pops into my mind. So, grab a cup of tea and a packet of Iced VoVos, and enjoy my trip down memory lane and movies.

‘My idea of Heaven is a solid white nightclub with me as a headliner for all eternity, and they LOVE me!’ – Father Dyer

Thrillers I Love by Noel Anderson

T is for The Exorcist – R Rated – I recall begging mum to take me to see The Exorcist at the Rapallo theatre. “Please mum, can we, go on.” I was of course under age at the time, but mature for my age so I believed. After some serious nagging over the Graham Kennedy Show on telly, mum reluctantly agreed. On the day, mum brought the movie tickets. I was surprised no one asked me my age, and believed the platform shoes I was wearing helped disguise the fact I was not yet eighteen, or an adult. Years later, I worked as an usher at the Rapallo and saved up enough money to live and work in London. To this day The Exorcist is one of my favourite movies. My rating 5 stars – A masterpiece.

’What’s the boogeyman?’ – Laurie Strode

H is for Halloween – When Halloween opened in Australia it wasn’t the classic it is considered to be today and Jamie Lee Curtis was an unknown actress. Halloween took on cult status due to VHS video. Almost every Australian home had a copy in their video cupboard. I can still see the cover ‘the most successful independent film of all time.’ Halloween of course introduced me to another idol of mine, director John Carpenter. I’ve seen everyone of his movies. I remember baby sitting my niece and nephew and us watching a VHS copy of Halloween together. I’d tried to scare them by jumping out from behind something. Years later my niece thanked me for being great fun when she was growing up. My rating 5 stars.

‘A murderer would never parade his crime in front of an open window’ – Lisa

R is for Rear Window – based on a short story by Cornel Woolrich…believe it or not, I didn’t see Rear Window until I was in my mid 20’s as Rear Window disappeared from public view after its initial run. Hitchcock had withdrawn it from circulation, and held the copyright. My first viewing of Rear Window was at the Sydney Film Festival in the State Theatre and the event was hosted by no other than, James Stewart. Hitchcock had passed away sometime earlier. I remember watching it with my partner at the time. My relationship sadly didn’t go the distance but Rear Window certainly has stood the test of time. I love it! My rating 5 stars – Murder delivered perfectly, with a touch of class.

’You must die! Everyone must die!’ – Marcilla

I is for Ingrid Pitt – Mum and dad often dropped me out front of the Capital Theatre in the city. One Saturday arvo I went to see an M rated movie (kids must be accompanied by an adult) on my own called the Vampire Lovers, with Hammer Horror’s leading scream queen, Ingrid Pitt. The Vampire Lovers is a film full of…well, saucy lesbian vampires and lots of tits. Mum had no idea what the movie was about, I didn’t tell her. God knows what I made of all the heavy breathing and girl-on-vampire-dyke-action. But, to this day The Vampire Lovers is one of my favourite lesbian thriller/horror films. My rating 5 stars – See it with someone you want to have sex with 😀

‘In this court of law, I’m pleading for love’ – Clarence Darrow

L is for Leopold and Loeb and Compulsion. Filmed in stark black and white and directed by Richard Fleischer, Compulsion is based on the trial of Leopold and Loeb, two homosexual students, who murder a school mate just for thrill of it, and to prove they are intellectually superior. Famous for a speech towards the end of the movie by Orson Wells believed to be the longest monologue in film history, and taken from the transcript of the original trial.  My rating is 5 stars

L is for The Last Wave – I can’t pass up mentioning this great Aussie thriller directed by Peter Weir. The Last Wave was made by South Australian Film Corporation at a time when Australians loved hearing the Aussie accents on screen and cinema chains invested heavily in Australian movies with a Hollywood star, in this case Richard Chamberlain. Australian films at the time were billed as an event. The Last Wave started my interest in aboriginal culture, and the ‘dreamtime.’ I even have a pair of message sticks in my home, a gift from the Festival of Dreaming which I worked on in Sydney, a year before the Olympic Games. My rating for The Last Wave is 5 stars – Thought provoking, alarming, spiritual stuff.

‘Smile nicer. Don’t make your lips tight’ – Marjorie

‘Golly Noel, you’ve directed this’

E is for Extremities – Based on a successful stage play, about an attempted rape written by William Mastrosimone, Extremities is famous for proving once and for all that Farrar Fawcett could act. While a bit dated, I can’t help mentioning it because I directed the play in Brisbane at the Cement Box theatre, and every time it comes on TV I think to myself, ‘golly Noel, you’ve directed this.’ Flashback – I’m sitting in the rape crisis centre with the cast and the centre workers, discussing the options open to woman who have been sexually abused. So, for me, E is for Extremities (pic from production) a personal favourite. My rating is 3 stars for the movie, 5 stars for the stage version, and the good memories.

‘This no dream. This is really happening’ – Rosemary Woodhouse

R is for Rosemary’s Baby and Katherine Ross from The Stepford Wives – Ira Levin as far as writers goes is in a league of his own. One of my favourite authors, these are two of my favourite thrillers. I’ve seen both movies a trillion times and love every minute of both films. I even loved it when at a rep cinema twenty minutes from the end of Rosemary’s Baby, the film broke. In shock and on the edge of my seat, I started booing and stamping my feet along with everyone else. I remember thinking at the time ‘this is not a dream Noel. This is really happening.’ My rating 5 stars – Ira Levin can do no wrong.

S is for Suspiria – Where do I start? An adult fairytale handled with flair and grandeur by one of the worlds great auteurs. Suspiria was released with a pounding soundtrack by Italian pop group the Goblins. I remember sitting alone in a cinema on George Street in Sydney and being bowled over by its brilliance. Suspiria introduced me to another idol, the Italian Hitchcock, Dario Argento. In fact I became obsessed with Italian thrillers, particularly  ‘giallo.’ You know, where the murder is seen from the perspective of the killer, often a gloved hand holding a big bloody knife. My rating 5 stars – Unforgettable

Thrillers I Love? I just remembered, I wrote and directed a thriller called The Perfect Match about marriage, adultery and revenge. It was my official entry into Tropfest in 2002. The signature object that year – a match. It was made before the world wide digital revolution. I thought The Perfect Match was lost forever but I found this recording on an old VHS Tape in a box in my cupboard. The VHS sound is a bit dodgy but the film is a helluva lot of fun. 5 stars from me, enjoy 5 minutes of thriller magic Noel Anderson style.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR – Noel has directed over 50 theatrical productions and worked in film and TV. He completed NIDA’s Playwright Studio in 1996. Noel’s written work includes the play Andy Warhol’s Fifteen Minutes of Fame and the musical Audrey Hepburn and I Consider Our Assets. Learn more: Noel Anderson Website