stephanie.niall

Today, at 5pm, a group of year 11 students from Brentwood Secondary College are shutting down all their screen-based electronic devices… until Friday evening. This is all part of local exploration of the issues raised in the film Play Again, screening at the festival next week (twice for the general public – Wednesday evening, and Friday at midday for mums and bubs, or anyone else around at 12 on a Friday).

The film follows six American teenagers, as they are dragged out from behind their computers and smart phones (or their “virtual world”, as one participant describes it) and into the Big Wide World. The real one, that is. With bugs, and no magic powers, the sun, wind and rain to feel against your skin, and singing, and streams to swim in, and trees to climb.

For those of us who remember a time when we weren’t connected 24/7 (and you don’t necessarily have to be that old… that is what I am telling myself, anyway), it doesn’t really seem that remarkable, but for a generation who for all of their socially-independent lives have had the aid of phones, texting, emails as primary tools of communication, it may well come as a big shock.  That is what we assume.

This is why we have asked the Brentwood students to spend a week of their holidays making the supreme techno-sacrifice. For some ground-truthing… some very unscientific hypothesis-testing. Will they implode? Will they have an epiphany as new worlds open up? Or will they just suffer a bit of initial withdrawal and then carry on as usual? Follow their experiences through the Sunday Age, who this morning ran a story about the students’ sacrifice. Or come and listen as they report back during the panel discussion following the film.

The film raises a number of really interesting issues, relating to the developmental and health consequences of so much screen time. There is little doubt that the generations growing up in Australia now have less connection to nature than any previous generation.

The extent to which this is due to screen time is debatable, but it is undoubtedly a factor, along with increased urbanization, changing societal standards relating to what are acceptable levels of freedom for kids (think about the efforts gone to around the city to ensure children can’t climb trees), and less unstructured play time. Increasingly, studies are showing the benefits of exposure to nature (even just taking time to sit on a grassy lawn) for mental health, particularly depression and anxiety, plus for children exploring nature can build confidence and self-reliance, as well as stimulating curiosity.

Most importantly, the film draws our attention to the simple fact “what they do not value, they will not protect; what they do not protect, they will lose.”

And by “they”, I mean “we”. And by “lose”, I mean permanently. Sobering thought, as I sit at my computer, typing. With my smart phone beside me. And the sun outside shining.

This blog is based on two of the more profound and thought-provoking films we are showing – Call of Life and If a Tree Falls, which touch on subjects fundamental to modern-day environmentalism:  how we protest, what that protest achieves, and what exactly we are protesting to begin with.  Call of Life strips back a major environmental issue (biodiversity loss) to its root cause, and to the root cause so many other problems – us, our way of life and our economic system.   If a Tree Falls explores environmental protest, the frustrations that drive people to more extreme forms of protest, and the increasingly blurry lines (courtesy of the global “war on terror”) between “direct action” environmental protest and terrorism.  The more I reflect on these subjects, the more entwined they become.

Environmental protest is a curious and frustrating issue.  It evolved from a fringe movement in the sixties – a period where the majority of the population saw it as just a fad being pushed by a feisty, drug-taking, disaffected hippies yearning for a better world.  Since then, it has morphed into what some might consider a more mature model, in which environmental organisations work closely with corporations on the assumption that the best way to change the system, or to get any environmental outcome at all, is to work from within.

But some of those who were the biggest proponents of this “work from within” model are now seriously questioning its worth.  Over the period in which the green movement has supposedly become more sophisticated and refined, the environmental problems this shift was meant to resolve remain at best unmoved and at worst in accelerated decline.

A noteworthy example of this disillusionment is James Gustave Speth.  In his heyday, he was the head of the United Nations Environment Program and he founded both the World Resources Institute and the Natural Resources Defense Council in the United States (two of the most reputable environmental organizations around), as well as being the Dean of the Yale School of Forestry and Environmental Studies.

His swan song upon stepping back from these institutions (he is now a law professor living in Vermont) took the form of the poignant and damning book “The Bridge at the End of the World” in which he questions the value of his own very impressive achievements, and other attempts to embed environmental issues into mainstream institutions, given that all the funds, research and well-meaning words have had no appreciable impact on the actual problems they were designed to solve.

In talks, he now urges people instead to take direct action – to chain themselves to power stations, to engage in civil disobedience, to rise up and revolt against the forces so bent on destroying our environment and (ultimately) us. Being true to his message, he was arrested just a couple of weeks ago (quite triumphantly, I imagine) at a protest relating to the tarsands pipeline being constructed in the United States.

Speth raises some interesting points: Why can’t we have that sixties-type idealism and drive for change now when so much is at stake, drawing on the spirit of the likes of Martin Luther King and Malcolm X? Why aren’t people taking to the streets and demanding the fundamental change we so desperately need?  On one level, I agree with him: working within the system hasn’t solved anything.  But I find his analogy with the sixties unsatisfying.  When you boil down the problems we face today, the true essence of what we need to protest about… It’s us.  It’s our way of life.  It is everything our consumption-based identities take comfort and joy from – that new frivolous, “what the hell” purchase; that spur of the moment trip to Fiji; that second (or even first) car.

Unlike previous revolutions, in this particular debate there is no clear “other” at which we can direct our anger or our frustration – no self-indulgent bourgeois, no clear source of oppression or discrimination.  It is hard to stir the public up to protest against their own comfort: their plasma TVs, their four wheel drives.   You are more likely to be met with slightly self-conscious silence than blistering anger.  As a result, I feel the likelihood of seeding that much-needed revolution is pretty small….

So where to now?  In the face of frustration born of failed action, when no matter what you do the coal is still being dug up, the forests still being burned, you can see why some people take more extreme actions.  It is sometimes with a quiet sense of relief that I see the actions of Sea Shepherd, or people chaining themselves to power stations.  They do not talk of compromise, of negotiated outcomes, of the contrived and fictitious win-win solution.  There is just action, pure and simple.   I do not nor could not condone the vandalism or violence accompanying some of these acts, but still understand what drives it.

And this is where the environmental movement is caught in a vicious cycle.  If it pushes more hard line protests and the majority of the population does not rise up in support, it risks regressing into a fringe movement again.  This could potentially alienate those in the mainstream who might otherwise be sympathetic and would allow it to be dismissed by opponents as “radical” and “out of touch”.  Yet by remaining mainstream, working within the system, what are we actually achieving?  Should we really just settle for a slight green tinge to the corporate gloss? And is it really achieving the ends we require? And if it’s not (and it doesn’t seem to be), what then?

To quote If a Tree Falls, “When you are screaming at the top of your lungs and no one hears you, what are you supposed to do?”

All questions, no answers.  That pretty much sums up the problem.

Now that we have released the schedule for this year’s festival, I thought it only appropriate to devote this blog to why I think this year’s films are so wonderful.

(1)   International content

Last year, we were aware that the vast majority of the films we showed were produced and set in US.  There is not a problem with American films per se – the US has a strong and vibrant independent, green film culture and has really helped develop this genre as a mainstream option.  It also has some amazing festivals to help promote them.  But it does mean that there is a decidedly North American focus, and they are often pitched very much at the North American market.  As an example, the closing images of one of last year’s films actually made the audience giggle, as American flags waved and a US politician, in very patriotic terms, tried to appeal to the audience’s sense of “red, white and blue”.  I am not sure he realised this audience would include sniggering Australians.

By contrast, this year we have films coming from 10 different countries, including Russia, Brazil, Australia, Denmark, France, Iceland and Sweden… and some other places I have probably forgotten.  The mix of perspectives, accents (discussions of nuclear power sound so much more beautifully sinister when spoken with a Danish accent), and ideas is so much richer for it.

(2)   Australian content

Not only is the breadth of countries far larger, but we are showing four Australian-made films.  It is fantastic to see these gems emerge from the Australian film industry, and we are really excited to help promote them.  From Waste Not, which takes a really interesting look at how much stuff Australians waste, to Magic Harvest, documenting the trials and tribulations of first-time veggie gardeners in Adelaide, and Common Ground, about a reconnection with the unique Australian landscape. We are also screening the world premiere of Plasticized, which takes us on a journey across the Atlantic Ocean monitoring plastic pollution. All these films are fabulous.  We are really excited about increasing the number of Australian screenings, and expect this is a trend that will continue.

(3)   Varied content

Probably in part due to the international spread, the subject matter is also fabulously diverse.  The fine line between eco-terrorism and direct action is explored in If a Tree Falls; particularly important issues at a time when people are getting so frustrated with the lack of progress from traditional forms of protest…  More on that in another blog.  Whimsical and almost poetic images of the impacts of urbanisation are presented in A World of One’s Own.  Multiple perspectives on the impact of light pollution are examined in the gentle and contemplative The City Dark – philosophical considerations of what it means for us to be separated from the vastness of space; practical considerations relating to astronomical research; the health implications of no darkness (who knew there were any?); and finally the environmental costs – interfering with migratory pathways, deaths of baby turtles and other unpleasant consequences of our obsession with 24/7 lighting.  And, particularly relevant for me as a new mother is Play Again, exploring one of the potential reasons for our children’s increasing disconnect from nature, being too much screen time, and its potential developmental implications.

It is a complete cliché, but there truly is something for everyone.

This is a short blog for me.  Designed to leave time for any readers to go and watch all the trailers.  The link is just to the left…. Please enjoy.

We are on the verge of releasing our program, whereupon I will be able to write more about the content of this year’s festival.  But, having already spilled the beans on Into Eternity, I should probably focus on less film- and more festival- related topics.

One issue that we have come up against frequently in putting together this festival is the inherent conflict in hosting a resource-dependent function to promote awareness of environmental issues.  This is an issue not just faced by our festival; anyone voicing an opinion pushing a particular environmental agenda is open to accusations of hypocrisy. Just think of Cate Blanchett, and the gleeful finger-pointing that occurred when she dared publically support a carbon price.  That same glee can be seen hovering around the Greens during elections as they distribute “How to Vote” cards.

To a large extent, living in our society dictates a certain “locked in” environmental impact; one that can only realistically be avoided by living in a cave on a mountaintop, with a bicycle-powered generator (candles are a very inefficient source of light) and wrapping yourself in fern fronds.  We eat food drawn from the industrial machine, however carefully we try to source our consumption, we walk on roads constructed with fossil fuel, we heat and cool our homes with electricity and, in public transport-poor cities, those who don’t live in the inner city are pushed to drive cars to do even the most basic task.

That said, the dimensions of the “locked in” envelope are actually fairly fluid, and determined by a range of social, economic and environmental factors.  If I realistically want to participate in my community, engage with my friends and family and indulge in some of the most pleasant aspects of humanity, I can’t sit on top of that mountain (for the most part) but I might resist the temptation to buy a 50 foot yacht and a hummer just so I feel accepted.  How we construct our “needs” in terms of activities or direct consumption, and how we then exercise our consumption choices in pursuing those needs all influence the size of that envelope.

In considering whether to run our festival, we decided that the benefit of informing people was worth the impact. Even so, when addressing the issue of the festival’s impact, rest assured that our committee does take it very seriously.  First, you will be pleased to know that the festival, so far, has not chartered its own private jet.  Second, there is a lot of frank and fearless debate over how and when to consume resources, partly because the more you think about such things, the bigger and more complex the mess that results.  Take, for example, the issue of printing posters for promotional purposes.

       Do we print posters?

       We shouldn’t – think of the impact of the paper

       We could use recycled paper

       But all the newspapers and printer ink in recycled paper means the BPA levels are really high

       Fine.  How would we do it otherwise?

       We can rely on internet to spread the word

       But that involves electricity

       Less than printing

       But it also encourages our society’s dependence on electronic gadgets…. You know these will only end up as e-waste being dumped in developing countries

       Ok – do we just want to rely on word of mouth?

       But then we will end up with about 3 people in the film sessions.  The entire point of the festival is to raise awareness…  If it will just be our friends there, we may as well just host a dinner party

       It is a lot of resources to show the film to just three people….

      Maybe the resources associated with the printing will be offset by behaviour change from people seeing the film?

     What if the film is about overfishing?  Can we really express “fish saved” in terms of reams of paper, or kilowatts of energy?  That seems like long bow to draw.

At this point, we start considering that move to the mountaintop.

One way we have managed to resolve these dilemmas is through sourcing material as best we can.  For example, we found a great printer who uses recycled paper and waterless printing  (am going to do a plug here – FishPrint).  We also found a wonderful t-shirt printing company we will be using called 3Fish, which uses organic, fair trade cotton and vegetable-based dyes.  (I think the “Fish” in both names is purely coincidental, unless there is something in the sustainable retail world I don’t know about.)

 Part of our aim of the festival is to promote sustainable behaviour where possible, and sourcing our goods and services is a big part of that.  I am just glad we have entered an age where these companies exist, as it allows us to start shifting the lower limit of that “locked in” envelope, decreasing (but not eliminating) the intra-committee debates and awful feelings of hypocrisy.  There will never really be such a thing as sustainable retail, but we can certainly do much better.  Just as there will never be such a thing as an entirely sustainable film festival, but we can certainly decrease its burden considerably… And if Kino introduces a pedal-powered movie cinema, I promise I will put my hand up for first shift on the bike.

We actually have a film that touches on these issues.  Actually, we have two…. Possibly three.  But I should probably not go there just yet.  Soon….

Although the program for the festival has not yet been entirely finalised, we have decided that there will be a session dedicated to exploring some of the issues associated with nuclear power. We thought this was timely not only because of the Fukushima explosion earlier this year, but also in recognition of 25 years since the Chernobyl disaster.

The main feature on this night is a film called Into Eternity. In the mainstream debate on nuclear energy, there are facts or issues surrounding nuclear power that only receive cursory treatment. Into Eternity is a very thought provoking exploration of such an issue – one that is touched on but not really explored in much detail. Ostensibly, it is about the storage of nuclear waste. But in truth, it is about a lot more than that. The film opens in “Onkalo”, a facility currently being constructed to house nuclear waste indefinitely, located deep underground and lost in the Finnish wilderness. Onkalo, in Finnish, means “hiding place”. Using this as the backdrop, the film provocatively asks how is it possible to do just that – to keep the waste hidden for the 100,000 years required for it to be “safe” again. What language should the warning signs be in? How do you prevent future societies from digging it up, thinking the efforts gone into construction and concealment indicate a degree of reverence and value akin to the pyramids of ancient Egypt. In doing so, the film is one of the more profound and original environmental documentaries that I have seen for some time. Trying to write about it is actually quite frustrating, because I struggle to quite capture the film’s essence, its feel, the level of questioning and reflection it demands from its audience (not to mention its chilling first 10 minutes). But I can point you to the trailer, and encourage you to come along and see the full film for yourselves.

The issues surrounding the use of nuclear energy are incredibly complicated and a single film festival session (even if it is showing THREE films! *shameless plug) would struggle to do them justice.  Into Eternity explores some, but there are two other facets of the debate I do not think get enough coverage; a function of the oversimplified debates in which we, as a society, tend to specialise. First, nuclear energy is far from a zero emissions technology. Second, certain double standards apply when we consider the safety of nuclear, particularly by comparison with coal, which (it hurts me to say) will most likely be our default baseload power source for the immediate future.

You often hear people advocating nuclear power claiming it is “zero” emissions, and therefore a more climate change-friendly option. This is patently false. Yes – the direct generation of energy from a nuclear power plant emits significantly less greenhouse gases than fossil fuel generation, but the original statement is quite disingenuous. It neglects various sources of indirect emissions arising from plant construction, fuel extraction and processing, operation, spent fuel storage, and decommissioning. A review in Nature Climate looks at a number of studies that have investigated emissions from nuclear generation from a “whole of life” perspective – the values range from as low as 1.4 gCO2e/kWh to 288 gCO2e/kWh (according to the article, an accepted amount for coal fire power stations is 960 gCO2e/kWh, and on-shore wind farms at 10 gCO2e/kWh). The range of figures produced is very large, and show the considerable uncertainty surrounding aspects of the process’ lifecycle, at the very least suggesting that any absolute claim that it is a ‘zero’ emission technology is grossly oversimplified.

As I stated earlier, another unquestioned assumption we hold is that coal, from a direct health perspective, is a safer alternative to nuclear. Since the Fukushima disaster, there has (rightly) been a significant reassessment of the safety of nuclear energy. Implicit in this debate is the idea that coal and other forms of fossil fuel generation are less dangerous. In fact, there are not inconsiderable health hazards associated with energy derived from coal, but these elicit far less hysteria – no Geiger counters or hazmat suits are involved. A particularly insightful environmental thinker, George Monbiot, has recently reflected on and written quite a bit about this issue. He points out that, per year, the number of industrial deaths resulting from coal mining in China alone is above 2,400 people. These deaths lack the insidious, fear factor associated with radiation poisoning, and are isolated to a discrete subset of the population, whose experiences are far removed from most of us in the developed world. As a consequence, we seem to subconsciously overlook them when analysing the relative risks of various energy options. We are more likely to identify with and feel threatened by the death or exposure of a nuclear engineer, or sickness of a family living in close proximity to a dodgy nuclear power station. But even by that metric, coal is hardly innocent. The number of deaths attributable to respiratory illnesses from people living in close proximity to coal power stations is hardly insubstantial. But again, it lacks the shock value of nuclear exposure and therefore is less likely to capture public imagination. Please don’t misunderstand me – I am not saying nuclear is safe. It isn’t. Just that nor is coal, and we often leave this out of our risk equations.

After considering these issues, and a number more, commentators such as Monbiot have come down strongly in favour of nuclear as a significant and necessary part of a portfolio of energy sources that will be necessary to break our dependence on fossil fuel. I think I tend to agree, but still struggle to shake off the ingrained fear of nuclear.

Interestingly, initial indications are that, as countries now step away from their nuclear programmes after the Fukushima disaster, their demand for fossil fuel increases. This suggests capacity shortfall will most likely be met by an increase in coal- or gas-based electricity. Whether we truly want, or can afford, this will require a complex public debate and risk balancing exercise. Whether we are capable of such a debate remains to be seen. Actually, it doesn’t. If the carbon debate is anything to go by, there will be no complexity; no analysis. Just a pile of polarised rhetoric, with punchy one-liners designed to grab headlines not broaden people’s perspectives.

So there you go – a challenge. For next year’s festival, I ask someone to create a film able to capture the true complexity of the nuclear debate, in a considered, non-hysterical manner. In the meantime, come along and be engrossed and challenged and ever-so-slightly disturbed by the masterly efforts of Into Eternity.

Over the years, I have explored a number of different ways of encouraging people to meaningfully reflect on environmental issues and, in all honesty, none have been very successful.

First lesson: brow-beating friends is not particularly effective. I think I can claim as one of my few successes a friend who, after I pointed out it probably wasn’t necessary to have to wear long sleeves on a 40 degree day, reconsidered the default temperature on her air-conditioning. My more common experience is epitomised by another friend who still buys the super soft and patterned toilet paper. This is despite my rational and (in my opinion) highly persuasive arguments in favour of the unbleached, brown-paper-bagged recycled stuff. Apparently she finds the fluffy ducks on the packaging just too irresistible.

Second lesson: trying to guilt shop-owners into being more environmentally conscious can have unexpected and disturbing results. Case in point – asking a Vic Market fishmonger which of his available stock was “sustainable”, and being rather gutted when he pointed at the swordfish and said, “This one – we have a stack out the back. No way we will run out today.” !#$@?! Where do you even start? Protesting doesn’t always get the desired result either, with a media who are often too determined to find the “crazed young hippie” angle, rather than exploring the issue at hand.

Then I discovered film. And I saw how complex issues could (in the right hands) be expertly, persuasively and comprehensively conveyed in an accessible and engaging manner. And it worked – people could be influenced not to unquestioningly accept the values handed to them by society, and the most recalcitrant “environmentalists bore me” types moved to rethink their consumptive choices. Screening one film at last year’s festival, “Bag It”, saw more behavioural change than all my previous attempts combined. Workmates started bringing their lunches in metal boxes instead of using gladwrap. Relatives swore they would never microwave in plastic ever again (excuse the soapbox, but I had only been saying that for 10 years). Pregnant friends went through their cupboards with a fine-tooth comb and pulled out all the cosmetics, shampoos and skin lotions listing “parfum” on the ingredients label (to understand why, I recommend you watch the film – it is amazing and disturbing). It was a beautiful and satisfying sight, and we were sold on the power of this medium.

Apparently, this effect has been long known. The mining companies are all over it (I refer you to the anti-minerals resource rent tax campaign). Al Gore milked it for all he is worth (and, let’s be honest, that is quite a bit). Even more interestingly, an organisation called the Population Media Center  has had quite astounding success using soap operas to promote family planning in developing countries. Cleverly engineered plots have seen entire communities’ attitudes to contraception, women’s rights and HIV sufferers markedly shift. I encourage anyone interested to read a little more about their work – it is quite inspiring.

But the impact of different types of films can be surprising. For example, research out of the US suggests that, in terms of changing people’s perceptions, The Day After Tomorrow had a substantially greater impact on people’s perception of climate change risk than Inconvenient Truth. Part of this was put down to the fact that The Day After Tomorrow had broader public appeal than Inconvenient Truth, which was far more likely to just be preaching to the converted. But part may also have been due to the strength of the narrative and special effects: exaggerated and scientifically flawed, but compelling nonetheless. In fact, the results from The Day After Tomorrow study suggested people would even (and remember – this is in the highly polarised US) change their voting preferences after watching it.

But how lasting is behavioural change prompted by film. Does it only last to the end of the post-film coffee, or until it causes slight inconvenience? There has been some research performed into this – the study mentioned above did a follow up study 5 months after the film was watched. I recall that the results weren’t quite as impressive as the initial results suggest, but couldn’t find them in time for this blog. If anyone has any sources or studies that have looked into this, please put them in a comment! Regardless, what can be concluded is that The Day After Tommorrow reached more people and had a more profound impact on the average member of the population’s perception of climate change risk than any IPCC report or government publication. I am not sure if that is a happy thought or a sad one.

So next time I am not going to chain myself to a tree, but rather make a film… About chaining myself to a tree…. Or someone else chaining themselves to a tree. Or about a tree.

As we trawl through over 40 films (selected from a “long list” of over 150), the committee is repeatedly confronted by the issue of what exactly is appropriate subject matter for an environmental film festival.

Fact: David Attenborough documentaries do not an environmental film make.

This sounds relatively obvious, but the assumption that an environmental film festival will only trade in images of fluffy polar bears and other charismatic megafauna is reasonably entrenched and seriously devalues the genre. Gone are the days where the best of the world’s environmental films are characterised by what is shown on the ABC at 6:30pm on a Sunday night… Nor are they best represented by images of a man, whose distaste of personal hygiene is indicated by the weight of grunge accumulated on his dreadlocks, holding a cam-corder and chasing an Enron executive down the street. The production of feature length environmental documentaries is a very sophisticated film making area, and the quantity and quality of films each year just gets bigger and better.

But what makes an environmental film? This goes back to my first comment. If it isn’t just a wildlife documentary, what is it? The demarcation between “environmental” and “other” is a fuzzy one, I will acknowledge that. In modern times, the concept of “environmental” has expanded beyond issues that drove the first wave of environmentalism in the 60s – issues such as deforestation, species loss, local pollution. It is now a more all-encompassing idea that often takes on a more global and expansive perspective, as the problems we face take on more complex dimensions; ‘environmental’ cannot be easily compartmentalised anymore. One clear example of this is climate change. This could well be characterised as the headline environmental issue of our generation. But root causes and consequences are so far beyond just our immediate impact on polar bears in the arctic…. It brings into its fold human rights, equity, capitalism, consumption, the structure of our institutions and our decision-making frameworks, as well as the continued habitability of the earth for all life. It is so much more all-consuming than the traditional conception of “environmental”.

This shift in thinking was made quite obvious to me during last year’s festival. We screened a film called “Sweet Crude”, which looked at the impact of crude oil extraction on the Niger Delta – from the immediate pollution to social unrest and political instability in the broader region. My father came out of the film, and said, “Great film, but I am not convinced it was ‘environmental’.” This had not even crossed my mind – to me, the clear link between our lifestyles’ dependence on fossil fuels and the social, environmental and political consequences on the local inhabitants at the point of extraction were undeniably subjects worthy of an environmental documentary. That type of link is the very foundation of the field of environmental justice. Yet my father clearly was still a child of the sixties – one where there were clear divisions between human rights, environmental destruction, and probably (although I am putting words in his mouth here) our society’s basic economic model.

So what does this mean for this year’s festival? Our shortlist (query the use of the word “short”… watching all 40 has felt anything but short!) includes films that, again, some will claim are more properly defined as “human rights”. Films that explore our relationship with the universe. Films that previously would have belonged in an economics syllabus (although way more interesting – I promise), without a polar bear or old growth tree in sight. And others that have the sort of scenery that makes your heart sing, and remind you again exactly why what we have is so worth fighting for.

That is the fun of running this film festival. Plumbing the depth of that fuzzy “environmental” zone, and revelling in the variety, quality and sheer entertainment that emerges. Watch this space!

Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha