I was only 6 months old when Die Hard blasted onto movie screens around the world and raised the bar to an unreachable height for all action movies to come. Die Hard is arguably the best action film ever made, it is most certainly the greatest Hollywood has ever attempted, and is definitely my favorite. You can separate Die Hard from the rest of the franchise (as most would with others quadrilogies such as the Alien, Indiana Jones and Rambo films) because Die Hard was the first off the rank and its success led producers to the next three films. The quality and success of the rest of the series is separate from our first outing with John McClane.

So, forget Die Harder (1992 – even though it was cool), remove Die Hard With a Vengeance (1995 – regardless of how awesome it was) from your mind and shatter the memory of Die Hard 4.0 / Live Free or Die Hard (2007) because it was more a John McClane film that a Die Hard film anyway. We are talking about the brilliance of Die Hard.

The title, how I wish I could have been a fly on the wall for that decision. The title of the book that the film is based on Nothing Lasts Forever (1979, Roderick Thorp) would have been an awful movie title and the franchise would surely have failed (Nothing Lasts Forever 2: Nothing Lasts Forever’er ?) But to take a gamble on a title like Die Hard, feels to me a similar decision to Snakes on a Plane; but this was well before action movies were self aware enough to know that Die Hard, although an awesomely cool title, is ridiculous! You can’t ‘die hard’ – or soft for that matter – but it utilized a noun and an adjective to get our blood pumping (it may also be used as an adverb in this case).

Die Hard is the kind of title that gets every testosterone-fuelled human on this planet lining up at the cinemas, but as we know now, the producers weren’t so sure about that.
 Die Hard was saved, on my count, at least 12 times from doom.
The film was originally going to be Commando 2, with Schwarzenegger taking the lead and ruining it for everyone – can you imagine Arnold as John McClane saying “Now I know what a TV dinner feels like”, “Son of a bitch! Fist with your toes”,  not to mention “Yippie-Ki-Yay Mother F*&^%$#!”. 
Happily and luckily the film was saved from Arnold, but that wasn’t the end of potential doom. After Mr. Schwarzenegger turned it down Stalone was asked, he declined; then Burt Reynolds (what?!), and after he said thanks but no thanks Richard Gere was asked (which is madness, absolute madness); after Gere rejected the idea Harrison Ford was considered; before finally resting on the brilliant Bruce, Mel Gibson was asked to take the plunge. That Mel Gibson was asked is somewhat ironic because if Mel had done the film then Bruce Willis probably would not have had his John McClane cameo in Loaded Weapon (1993), a piss-take of Mel Gibson’s star vehicle Lethal Weapon (1987).

Bruce Willis seems like an obvious choice now of course, because he was brilliant, but he wasn’t even included on the original posters because the producers feared all those Willis-haters out there wouldn’t come and see it. But, the posters as we know were changed after its initial success.
 The film is cast almost perfectly (which makes it that much better) with strong actors taking up small and large roles; Alan Rickman as Hans Gruber in his first feature (although he was in BBC R&J as Tybalt –very funny). Alan Rickman is a joy onscreen; a smarmy, sarcastic thief with sharp edges and a smooth, deep voice. He is pathetic and strong, happy to use violence and negotiation to get his way. What a villain! He is the strongest performer after Willis in this film – if not equally strong.
 Bonnie Bedelia is gorgeous and funny as Holly Gennaro (McClane’s estranged wife), her emotional range in this film is extensive considering her brief screen-time and she hits her marks with aplomb. I was always very sad to miss out on seeing her development over the series. Gennaro was a great character. 
William Atherton as Richard Thornburg the TV journalist is either done very well or quite poorly; he is over the top and incredibly unlikable; the man is a leech, which means job well done for Mr. Atherton.
The prize for best ensemble character must go to Harry Ellis, played by Hart Bochner. Ellis is a deluded fool with a cocaine problem, he is a patronizing tool who gets his comeuppance, not what he deserves, but it is satisfying in the moment.
 There are many more strong performances in the film including Reginald VelJohnson as the very funny, tortured cop with a heart of gold and John McClane’s only friend on the outside.

But what’s fun about that! Lets talk about the massive acting fails! 
Paul Gleason and Robert Davi are by far the worst thing about this film. Paul Gleason is DPC Dwayne T. Robinson, and all the acting classes in the world couldn’t save this guy from being an archetypal idiot. He yells, he screams, he has no time for courtesy until the FBI arrive, he doesn’t listen and he assumes the worst always. He is an idiot and if he had been mastered by the right man (or woman), this could have been a great character piece, like many of the others throughout the film (Argyle for instance).
 The worst performance in this movie though is Robert Davi as FBI agent Big Johnson. It is bad, it is bad, it is bad. The actor is over-confident with his comedy style dialogue and he underplays the mass murder he is potentially party to. It is a small role and made all the smaller for lack of a decent actor. I am glad FBI Agent Johnson is dead.
 That might have been a tad too rough, but when all the other actors are pulling their weight it’s hard to ignore the bad apples. 
It takes a tribe to raise a child and the same can be said for making a movie, John McTiernan directs this awesome movie, he is famous for directing bloody, action blockbusters and this is the greatest of his many greats.

The writing team is also superb and you can tell when the dialogue starts that this is not just a shoot-em-up pointless action, but there is heart, comedy and pain in this movie. Jeb Stuart (The Fugitive, 1993) and Steven E. de Souza (48 Hrs, 1982) re-wrote Roderick Thorp’s novel into a smorgasbord of gripping dialogue and iconic one-liners. 
Die Hard inserts itself easily and quickly into pop culture as “Yippie-Ki-Yay Mother F*&^%$#!” quickly became the [potentially] greatest overloaded, self referential, sarcastic remark in film history and will echo ever in eternity through universities and wherever more than 10 boys [or girls] drink beer. The Simpsons, Friends, The Sopranos, How I Met Your Mother, as well as countless movies and other TV shows have borrowed the premise, quotes and title for their own storytelling. 
Die Hard is a film yet to be rivaled and it stands alone as the best action movie of all time. I would like for Hollywood to come up with a better one, but I don’t think that is going to happen anytime soon.
 Die Hard is a must-see movie event, this is not for DVD consumption and The Astor is the only place to see it, on the BIG SCREEN.
 I absolutely love it.

Written by Nicholas Waxman for the Astor Theatre. 

Die Hard screens this Wednesday before the latest, somewhat more dire instalment in the franchise, A Good Day To Die Hard. Wicked Wednesday – All tickets $10

A family of really terrible actors head off on holiday to a small town where they encounter a bunch of goblins who want to turn them into plants and eat them. This bogus sequel bears no relation whatsoever to Troll (not that that’s a bad thing) but is terrible in its own particular way with a bizarre cast of serious nonactors, oodles of camp dialogue (“Joshua is not a little shit. He’s just sensitive!”) and make-up effects that look like they cost about twenty bucks. The director is the great Italian schlock-master Claudio Fragasso. His deft touch shows in every frame.

It’s worth noting that in five years of entertaining Melbourne’s bad movie fans, Cinema Fiasco hosts Geoff Wallis and Janet A. McLeod have NEVER seen a movie quite like this one. It took them nearly three hours to watch a 95 minute movie because they kept rewinding the bits that made no sense – which was pretty much the entire film. They also had to stop the DVD for about ten minutes at one point because they were laughing so hard they couldn’t breathe.

Janet and Geoff will be presenting Troll 2 with their very special brand of live commentary throughout. That is if they don’t lose it like they did in rehearsal. © Geoff Wallis

So get down here on Friday night for what’s sure to be one of the ‘best worst’ cinema experiences of your life! Cinema Fiasco includes live commentary throughout the entire film. Special Prices apply, No Free List. For further info, please visit: astortheatre.net.au

The artist wishes to be credited only as an Astor fan and is a member of the facebook group: We Grew Up In Melbourne.

Painting by Jo Lias

Farewell Ms. Marzipan,
You where always  a dignified and welcoming presence on the couch and strolling  the foyer.
You will be missed by me and I’m sure thousands more. – Philip Byrt

Marzipan represented the whole ‘old friend feel’ of the Astor… My mother went there in the ’40s, I have been going there since the ’70s and my daughter since the ’80s, she remembers Marzipan when she was a little girl of 4 in the ’90s as she got a fright when Marzipan brushed up against her in the dark, which soon became total delight that they let a cat in!! – Jewd

While alive she met more people than the Prime Minister ever will and was better liked. – Graeme and Lucile

Dear Marzipan, you have been the resident cat at the Astor Theatre for many years and today we lost you to heaven…the Astor Theatre will always be your home so thank you for sharing your love and your home with us all over the last 21 years….you will be forever missed and your, grace and presence will be forever remembered by those who got to meet you …your spirit will live on..Rest in Peace Marzipan – Love Nicole, Michael, Bailey and Harvey xxxx

Photo by Alex Fraser

The long life that she enjoyed inside the historic Astor Theatre is testimony to the extreme love and care demonstrated by yourself and the cinema staff.  Her life was most enviable even to humans. She will be missed for so long as she is remembered. – Mark Vanselow

Rest in peace Marzipan. You will always be the true lady of the theatre. May your memory live on in all of us that witnessed your extraordinary ‘mad cat dash’ through the cinema. We will forever miss your strategically placed couch presence and, on occasion, a snuggle before the show.  You will be missed. – Lou & Mick XOXOX

Photo by Gail Greatorex

Goodbye Ms Marzipan, it has been a pleasure. Frolic happily in catty heaven. My Max is up there & he will show you the ropes xx – Rina Chia

Dear Little Marzipan, A beautiful gentle little cat that was one of the joys of visiting the Astor. How very sad it will be that you are not there to let us greet you. Marzipan, you will always be in our memory – Jill Cook

Marzipan was a great comfort to me in the weeks after my beloved pet’s death.
I am not a natural cat person, due to being allergic, so I never went out of my way to get her attention. But just week’s after my bereavement she came and sat on my lap during The Master, and stayed for the entire film. Like Marzipan, my dog didn’t cope well with the heat. My heart goes out to her, and all her human friends. – Louise Maskell

Photo by Dinja

So sorry to hear Marzipan’s left us. What a great and long life she had – how many cats get to have a cinema as their home ?  She will be sadly missed. – B.Stevens

Dear Astor Theatre, Our condolences at the passing of Mazipan. She was such a delightful hostess, always greeting us while we were waiting in the foyer. I’m sure she is now happily greeting eternal movie goers in the great art deco foyer in the sky.
She will be sorely missed. – Anita Sloss and family

Many years ago, I was watching a film whose title I have long forgotten. What I do remember is that Al Stewart’s song “Year of the Cat” was playing before the movie. As if on cue, Marzipan strolled across the stage … – Mike Krochmal

You brought joy to many people, and were a constant companion as you moved around from couch to couch, looking for a warm spot or another friend. You did have a sneaky side jumping up on people at the scary parts of movies. – Jason Grasso

To Marzipan, thank you for the love and warmth you showed on each of my visits to the Astor.  Although there were long gaps when we did not meet you were always welcoming and happy to share your space and your time and it takes a special being to rule at such a place.  Queen of the Astor, you will always have a space in my heart.  – Caroline Waters

Photo by Dinja

What a lovely and lucky cat to have such a special home and have so many care for her. – Sally Jandric

I have had four cats in my life, I count Marzipan as number five.  it was always a pleasure to see her mooching about and it was always an honour to have her sit on my lap for a few minutes.  I remember in the past year during a screening of Iron Man, she jumped up on the bannister in front of the screen and created a cat shaped silhouette during a battle scene. The audience simultaneously went ‘awww Marzipan so cute’.  Thank you to the staff of the Astor for looking after Marzipan over her 21 years. – Laura Devenish.

She was a gracious, beautiful feline and I remember vivdly; her jumping onto the couch to sit next to my 85-year-old dad to be patted and cooed to! I think they were both purring that evening. You will be missed Marzipan. – Elly Levis

Photo by Aidan and Shami

Marzipan has been such an important part of mine and my partner’s cinema going experience at the Astor over the past 20 years. I will never forget the time when Marzipan leapt up onto my lap during a screening of Giant. She stayed there for the first half of the film and sweetly purred her way through it.  I am normally allergic to cats but for some reason I never had an allergic reaction to Marzipan. I think this says something. Goodbye sweet lady. You will be sorely missed and fondly remembered for years to come. – Stuart and Steven

Live in Nashville now but use to love going to the Astor and spending time with Marzipan in the foyer before a film. She was so friendly and definitely a little celebrity. Remember the last time I saw her after leaving the theatre curled up sleeping on a chair. Will always associate her with the Astor Theatre. Sad to hear of her passing. – Leon Wilks

My friends and I are very sad to hear of the passing of our favourite cinema cat, Marzipan. Every time we went to see a movie at the Astor we always looked forward to seeing and patting Marzipan. We hope she is in a better place now. – Karen

So very sad to hear of the passing of our much loved Marzipan, I will forever remember her habit of jumping on people’s laps at the most scary part of a movie – hearing the squeaks from an audience member followed by a relieved whisper “it was only Marzipan”.  Such a privilege when she chose you to grace with her presence on your lap. Thank you for sharing her with us all. Vale Marzipan.  – Michelle Hendrie

Photo by Katherine Potter

Marzipan’s residency at the Astor always lifted my spirits, and even more so if I managed to catch sight of her as she strolled through her home.
Will miss her  greatly. – Margaret Byron

What a beautiful animal and loved by so many. I can remember my surprise and my joy the first time I saw her in the Astor lobby (a few years ago). Cat lovers ourselves, it was lovely to be able to bond with her whenever we were at the movies and we always made a point of seeking her out when we came to Astor (and a few times even coming in as we were passing, just to see her). May she rest in peace. – Ross S

Only having arrived in Melbourne ten years ago, I remember first meeting Marzipan at a screening of Lord of the rings.  As the fireworks were going off at Bibos party, she sat on my lap and let me pet her.  A Lovely moment having a cat in a lovely old cinema.  Which was rather short lived as she hissed at me when it was time to stop petting.  I then learned that moving my legs or body was not allowed and I had to remain where I was, for the next two and a half hours!  It was cold and she was warm.  I will miss her, cantankerous or not. So long. – Dean.

So much sorrow over the loss of this beloved aspect of the Astor, though made more bearable by the especially long life she achieved. Well done, Marzipan. – Pat Grainger

Photo by Andrew Baylis

You made an already unique and incredible place that much more special, it’s going to feel so strange not playing “Find Marzipan” during intermission now. – Nick Zam

Photo by Melanie McClure

 I have been coming to the Astor for so many years and always looked out for Marzipan because she would never run away and loved the attention. I had brought one of my friends to the Astor for a night of choc tops and flicks when she saw Marzipan. I told her that sometimes Marzipan would come into the movie and sit on people’s knees. She did not believe me until it happened to her one night. She sent me a picture of Marzipan on her knee and a message saying that at intermission she wanted to get up but Marzipan would not let her move. She may not have had a choc top that night but it’s a memory she will always have. RIP Marzipan. – Cheryl Morgan

What can I say that thousands of others haven’t already said? This truly is terribly sad news and Marzipan will be sorely missed. I always made a point of finding her after the screening to give her a quick scratch before heading home. Maybe we as FOTA members can arrange for a life-sized statue to be commissioned one day … – Chris Hiscock

Photo by Fiona Davis

I first saw Marzipan years ago on the sofa in the foyer – I dutifully informed the box office that a cat had wandered in – and was amazed and delighted to learn she lived there. Going to the Astor  meant playing “Where’s Marzipan?” and she was always there at double bills, retrospectives, film festivals and special screenings. Hope that Marzipan enjoys her new view from (film) star studded, choc-ice heaven. – Melinda O’Connor

I first came across Marzipan by accident when walking along the footpath outside the Astor Theatre a year or so ago, whereby I & a couple of other people who where also walking past thought that she was a lost kitty or perhaps a stray, in which case we both entered the building to see if anyone knew about this tortoiseshell cat wandering outside near a very busy street only to find  that she happened to reside in the theatre, a long term resident. There were one or two accassions since that day that i had the chance to pat Marzipan as she was walking past or was sleeping on a chair in the hallway upstairs, such a novel and welcome experience added immeasurably to what is more than just a heritage listed building but is also an institution and a santuary which we could do with more of in today’s world. Sometimes the unexpected things in life can leave the greatest mark on us all, both far and wide. Pets can have the most profound effect on our lives and we are all the richer for it. I hope as Marzipan has left us that she perhaps is looking down on us on a comfy couch next to the great director upstairs as kitty cats should; and we as mere humans are touched by her existance. – Glenn

Photo by Claire Davie

My favourite memory of Marzipan was from a visit to the Astor a couple of years ago to see Alien. I was sitting in an aisle seat in the dress circle. As the tension mounted on-screen, Marzipan appeared, walking down the aisle, and sat on a step alongside a seat on the opposite side from me. She proceeded to watch the movie for a few minutes (which she appeared to be quite enjoying) and just at a key moment of suspense when the music reached a crescendo and the alien suddenly appeared, she leapt up, straight into the lap of the poor guy in the seat alongside her! He hadn’t seen her sitting there and got a fright which meant he nearly had to be peeled off the Astor ceiling. There were numerous giggles and muffled laughs from those of us sitting nearby who had seen what had happened. I swear she did this on purpose, as her timing was perfect. She was the best ever cinema cat and will be sorely missed. – Greg Burns

Marzipan was my little friend who used to keep me company when I waited for the tram out the front of the Astor Theatre. – Lee-Anne

The Beloved Ms Marzipan. Out of all the Theatres in Melbourne, you had to walk in The Astor! There was something different about this cat, she was casual and very cool, and when she walked into the theatre she owned it, so she made it her own.
When I saw you for the first time many years ago, I was drawn to you straight away. You will be in my heart forever, and the Astor cinematic experience will never be the same without you. Here is a final Le Reow- Reow  to you my darling Marzipan.  – Desi Glaros

Photo by Claire Davie

Marzipan was always a highlight of any visit to the Astor Theatre, whether she was watching impassively from the aisle as Jonesy the cat and Ripley almost got chomped by the Alien in Alien, or cuddling up to patrons in the foyer in the wee hours during intermission of a midnight screening of 2001: A Space Odyssey. But I’ll always associate her most closely with Hitchcock: my first visit to the Astor Theatre as a cinema-obsessed teenager was to the Early Hitchcock Festival the Astor held in the mid nineties, and it was during a screening of The Birds seventeen years ago that Marzipan first deigned to sit on my lap. She also once gave the whole cinema a fright during the tension-filled climax of Rear Window when Raymond Burr is closing in on Jimmy Stewart, by nimbly running the length of the theatre’s front banister. So it seems somehow fitting that the last time I saw Marzipan was two weeks ago at a screening of that beautifully restored North by Northwest. I’m so glad I was able to pay my respects in person one final time. She will be dearly missed. – Claire Davie

Photo by Danielle Howe

I always sought out Marzipan for a pat in the foyer and noticed the frizzle of excitment through the crowd when she would be in the cinema with us. Often looking for a lap. We were honoured with her attention twice. I had her on my lap both times – briefly – while she sought the bigger warmer lap of my husband Colin. There she snuggled up til just before the end of the film. It was like she knew when the film was over and headed out to the foyer. She was usually to be found upstairs before the film and downstairs afterwards, perched on the counter or the couch, seeing us all off. As if she was saying ‘Thanks for visiting, see you next time’. Colin suggested that it might also be, ‘Get out of my house you lot so I can have my din dins!’ But I prefer the former. – Lisa Flaherty

Photo by Michael Graves

I loved it when I met marzipan on my first visit to the Astor. I came to see Metropolis on the big screen and I was also realy wanted to meet the famous cat that lived there. After a while of searching around (before the film) I eventualy found her and went to say hello (not aware she was deaf) I was a little starstruck but was very happy to finaly meet her. I gave her a little pat, she seemed quite happy and didn’t mind. I got a couple of photos and went to watch Metropolis a very happy person. When I came out I could not find her, oh well, my short time with her was short and sweet. I will cherish it for a long time to come. When she accepted my friend request on Facebook I was over the moon. I loved to visit her page (and still do) we even had a little conversation (not via chat, on her time line) and it was so lovely. – Meran Covolo

Photo by Flynn Francis.
[Ed's note - Marzi loved the camera but gee she didn't like being picked up!]

Growing up so far away from the city, it was not easy to get to The Astor Theatre, but my friends and I managed it anyway. Films were far from ubiquitous, and the Astor was out best way to see them properly, so we would make the journey often on weekends and sometimes on school nights. We were enamoured by the cat that would be so casually sprawled across the couches, and one day dared to ask one of the staff what its name was. “Marzipan,” we were told. This was years before Facebook, and The Astor felt like our own special secret; knowing Marzipan’s name felt like a secret within that secret. From that point on, “I’m off to visit Marzipan” became code for an Astor visit, and we would see her nearly every time. We had the scratches to prove it. Thankfully — to me, anyway — she mellowed with age, and eventually expressed the fact that patting time was over by walking away instead of physical violence. My favourite memory of her was when I watched Antonioni’s Blow Up for the first time. I was completely gripped, and as the film reached its denouement in those tense final minutes, Marzipan chose to leap up onto my lap. It was the scariest, funniest, and most cinematically-enhancing thing I’d ever experienced. William Castle couldn’t have orchestrated it. Farewell, Mazipan. You will definitely be missed and remembered. – Lee Zachariah

Photo by Jay Rottem

My last, lovely memory of Marzipan is of her selecting us to sit with during a screening of Lawrence of Arabia last year. She was truly the heart and soul of the Astor, and will live on at every screening and in all our treasured memories. – Lisa Smith

Photo by Cam Grace

Many years ago both my daughters were attending Presentation College, Windsor. One afternoon they came home (Toorak) with a sad young cat, lost and wandering around Dandenong Road. We already had two pet cats, one three legged dog and several mice (caged)…and another mouth to feed would have been just another mouth to feed, and be loved and cared for,  we could never turn a lost animal away. I’m not sure of the details of how Marzipan came to be rescued by her rightful owner, who arrived distraught and
teary, and so grateful…and who promptly handed out many freebie tickets to the Astor. We went several times, and there she was, usually lounging around on the stairs and carpet, totally in charge of the scene. Your devotion to Marzipan is legendary, as is the puss herself.  There are not enough people left in this world who care as much as you. So vale Marzipan, hope the movies in feline heaven are as good as the Astor. – Paulette Calhoun

Photo by Greg Strahan

Ms Marzipan, we first met when you and I were just young little
things. You welcomed us each night out with haughty grace, allowing us
into ‘your’ theatre, gave us champagne, interrupted our view of the
screen with your silhouette, and even sat on my lap once (2001: A Space
Odyssey, I’m sure you’ll remember!) Though I haven’t seen you for
many years, I’ve told your story many times, you beautiful little soul
xx – Sam Hicks

So sad to hear about Marzipan. She was a much loved part of the Astor and part of its special quality. Will be remembered fondly as a the greatest film buff cat ever. – Helen Laffin

Marzipan provided a truly unique movie going experience.  We will all miss her greatly – I’m sure there’ll never be another quite like her. – Katherine Fox

Photo by Steven Sheeran

I’m almost thirty, and Marzipan seems to have been around almost as long as I’ve been going to the movies. I remember my parents telling me about her as a kid, and just like for everyone else, getting to see Marzipan was always a highlight of going to the Astor. One of my favourite memories of her is from a couple of years ago. I was running late for the movie, and shortly before leaving home I discovered that one of my cats had peed on my shoes. I thought I’d cleaned them thoroughly, but then half way through the film, Marzipan came over and started sniffing the tip of my shoe. She seemed to be thinking, “Who is *this*?” There is something so civilised about a cinema taking good care of a kitty. And by extension, the cinema as public meeting place involving the general public taking good care of the kitty, too. I’m so happy that Marzipan got to live a full and long life with lots of people to love her, and can only wish the same for my own cats. – Andrew Serong.

Photo by John Raptis

One of my friends said he missed all the trains and trams home one night and had to walk back to Brunswick due to patting you too long. – Tim Chmielewski

Marzipan – you have been part of our social world but more importantly part of our hearts for many, many wonderful years. I recall with joy regularly the time you honoured me by plonking on my lap and sleeping through the evening. I am sure everyone who has visited the Astor will miss you dearly. Most fond memories!!! – Jon

I am so sad that Marzipan is no longer with us in the physical sense. It is such a wonderful feeling to know that such a tiny, beautiful creature had the power to bring so much joy to hundreds of people in 21 years, which is more than more most humans are able to do in a life time. She will live for ever in our hearts and minds. – Julianne

Photo by Tammy Davis

I went to high school at PCW across the road and I’d get the tram home from the stop outside the Astor. Marzipan would hang out with me on the steps waiting for the tram and kept me company. She was never shy, would always sit with me and let me say hello.  Whenever I wanted someone to come to the Astor for the first time, I always told them about the choc tops and Marzipan. – Andi Pullar

Marzi was an icon and loved seeing her about the Astor going there and walking past. – Sarah

With tears welling in my eyes, I am honoured to have had the chance to have met her and had a pat or two on many occasions.Definitely the most loved cat in Melbourne. Always in our hesrts to be. – Steve

What an extraordinary life Marzipan lead. We so enjoyed her presence at the marvellous Astor theatre. We always had anticipation of seeing Marzipan and, on arrival, would look around hopefully. It was a lovely thought to know she was there somewhere. The Astor was her home and she
inhabited it with great style. Loved the photo of her on that gorgeous carpet. – Pam & Dinny

Photo by Emily Goyder

Marzipan was the funniest cat, always appearing out of nowhere.  One minute you were sitting alone and the next minute she was at your feet or sitting next to you DEMANDING attention.  But she had to come to you………..there was never any hope of anyone but her making the first move.  You also had to keep a sharp eye out for her. I nearly sat on her once when at the last second she decided my chosen seat was for her and not me! – Robyn Carmichael

My treasured memory is from many years back when my house was being renovated, and I was between jobs so came to the St.Kilda Film Festival and sat there for two weeks in the magic of the theatre itself and the event…..And then….out of the darkness, a cat came and sat on my knee. I thought I may be dreaming, as this may have been my introduction to Marzipan. I felt utterly blessed and blissed and have never forgotten it. – Lyn Biner

Photo by Jane Ormond

My favourite memory of Marzipan is that at key moments in a screening, usually when the hero was at the final point of life or death confrontation, the audience was hushed and completely still – no rattle of cellophane, no peep of mobiles, not a breath of movement – Marzipan would delicately begin her transit across the balcony rail.  Leisurely, measured, a casual cat saunter that inevitably drew every eye.  She would pause at mid-point, sit, maybe groom a little in an elegant way, and then resume. Forget the hero! We have Marzipan! A little murmur would run through the audience,  she’d be satisfied and exit. A blockbuster Hollywood epic, elegantly upstaged. Beautiful. Thank you for having her at Astor, and sharing her with us all.  A cat with the personality of a diva, and the heart of a lion.  – Kathleen Lloyd

One of the finest art deco buildings in Melbourne is the Astor Theatre, which has really picked a great niche for film goers, appealing to fans of cult and arthouse as well as classics. A feature of the cinema has been a calico cat, Marzipan, originally a stray who has lived at the cinema for some twenty-one years, or so the story goes. Naturally enough Marzipan was much loved by the cinema visitors, including myself, taking every opportunity to visit her (I once sneaked into the ladies powder room just for a chance to say ‘hello’).

Arguably, the reaction is irrational. After all,
Marzipan neither knows nor cares of the response. But funerals are for the
living, and Marzipan did know that there was an enormous quantity of people who would visit her and would quietly watch flickering lights on a screen. Her death has brought that community gather in mutual recognition that she was a valued member.

Photo by Nicolee

So it is not flowers that I shall send to the Astor, nor even a card. Rather, I shall provide something that she would have not even been aware of. It is through the anonymous and forgotten animals, far from the pampering of the developed world that I shall express my sadness and
solidarity; the International Fund for Animal Welfare. Please donate generously, in remembrance of Marzipan Astor cat. – Lev Lafayette [Ed's note - what a lovely idea Lev, thank you]

I went to see Blues Brothers a few years ago. It was a full house. Half way though the film Marzipan walked across all the patrons and came and sat on my lap. We watched the half the film together. Marzipan as a beautiful cat with a lovely demeanor. The Astor was hers – Adam Krongold

Photo by Josie F

My favourite and earliest memories of Marzipan are of her cheering me up on her little blue towel in the Laundromat next door.  I sometimes would have to wait at night for the 78 tram north in the freezing winter and she would cycle through all the major night-time cat activities: spacing out, sleeping, yawning, stretching and peering in my direction through the back of the chair. It warmed me up and made the wait enjoyable. I looked forward to waiting as I knew she’d be there. – Kalene Caffarella

Photo by Richard Squires

In my life I have known of only two cinemas that had a cat. One was the Scala in Kings Cross back in the ’80s in London. The other the Astor in Melbourne. Both cinemas had excellent calendars that ended up on toilet walls as both had a fabulous eclectic range of movies on offer.

Marzipan was always a friendly character whose presence just made the place seem that much removed from the ugly impersonal multiplexes that blight our world today. Of course if you were lucky enough as I was to have a bit of lap action there was nothing finer. Even the unexpected leap onto your lap mid movie was never an annoyance, much more a bonus.

She will be missed, except when jumping on you mid horror movie! – Richard Squires

Photo by Michelle Valenti

And God asked Marzipan are you ready to come home?

Oh, yes, quite so, replied the precious soul. And, as a cat, I am most able To decide anything for myself

Are you coming then? asked God. Soon, replied the whiskered angel but I must come slowly, for my human friends are troubled.

For you see, they need me, quite certainly. But don’t they understand? asked God That you’ll never leave them? That your souls are intertwined for all eternity? That nothing is created or destroyed? It just is … forever and ever and ever.

Eventually they will understand, Replied glorious Marzpain. For I will whisper into their hearts that I am always with them I just am … forever and ever and ever. – Jim and Jenny

I have too many memories of Marzipan to list, but one I do fondly remember is the afternoon that 2001: A Space Odyssey star Keir Dullea and Marzipan got into a wonderfully heated discussion between each other, Keir talking to her in her own tongue/language, and Marzipan continuously responding with vigor, determination and pure delight in telling Keir a number of things in her own way, and under no uncertain terms as to who was boss.
But too many times I simply remember sitting with her, just the two of us, in a chair or on the steps, having a chat or caressing her as she slept …. they are some of the nicest and most beautiful memories I will never forget.

Photo by Rhonda Cashmore

I am sure she has gone to a lovely, comfortable place in cat heaven.  Our family always used to look for Marzipan on our many trips to the Astor and give her a friendly tickle under the chin. – Jenny Rudd

On my first visit to the Astor I did not know what to expect, especially on meeting Marzipan. I didnt even realise she belonged there. I was sitting on the couch and she slowly crept up and jumped up next to me. Did I mention that I’m afraid of cats? When she started to walk across my lap I freaked out. Luckily one of the wonderful staff members was near and he took her to
the other side of the foyer. Still, I am glad to have met her. She will be missed – Melanie

I always enjoyed seeing her smoozing the cinema crowd at interval. – Susan Bray

Photo by Daniel Higgins

I work in Wellington Street so whenever a new calender is announced I walk down to grab one during my lunch break. It was always a joy to see her sleeping in the laundromat on her favourite chair while customers went about their business. She was such a loved part of the community and area and will be deeply missed. How many other cinemas could you be greeted on the steps by a movie-loving cat? – Daniel Higgins

Photo by Martyn Pedler

I arrived at the Astor a few hours before Paul Thomas Anderson, and decided talking to Marzipan was the best way to mask my growing terror. After the requisite patting, she looked me up and down and seemed to think: You’ll be decent furniture, human.

Marzipan didn’t understand that I was wearing a suit (a cheap suit, sure, but a freshly dry-cleaned one) and would soon be hosting the PTA evening in front of well over a thousand fans. “I have to look classy!” I told her. “You can sit on me any other time you want!” If a cat could hmph, that’s what she did – before moving to the middle of the freshly unrolled red carpet.

 Later that night, as I checked my notes for the hundredth time and watched the enormous crowd, I looked down to see Marzipan sitting at my feet. I took her presence to mean something like this: You’re terrible furniture, human, but I’ve got your back. - Martyn Pedler

She was so friendly when we filmed at the Astor Theatre in 2012 and we managed to take a great pic of her thanks to Peter Jensen Photography. – Britta Drevermann

Thank you for the beautiful farewell picture of Marzipan, a truly classy lady of the cinema. I sincerely hope that her spirit will live on in another cat. – Lori Whitelaw

I remember the first time I saw marzipan.. I was feeling very low and here was a confident, happy cat strutting her stuff along chapel street.. fantastic!! She made me smile.. – Natalia Serafini

Farewell Marzipan, you will be missed.
Sometimes, I turned up to the Theatre and you were readily spotable, occasionally pattable, sometimes awake – but often not. Always around.

Sometimes I turned up and you were not around and like many others, I inquired abut your health and where you were only to be told you were with X or in such and such a room. Instantly felt better knowing you were there.

I will miss you on my next visit and I will have an Ice Cream in your memory and sit on the lounge you used to sit on.

RIP Marzipan. If the Cinema Pioneers had a pet section for membership, I would sign your forms in a heartbeat. – Derek Screen

Photo by Jack Teiwes

Photo by Susan Carden

About five years ago I temporarily moved to Melbourne to make a start on my PhD. Having no family and few friends in the city I was naturally a bit lonely. The one upside of these digs, however, was that I lived only a short walk from the Astor, that wondrous dream-palace which I’d discovered years before and always made sure to attend at least once whenever I was visiting the city.

So during this isolated period of study, I found myself going to the Astor constantly — in part out of a desire to not be in that shared flat of an evening, but overwhelmingly due to a sheer love of the place and the great movies it gave me the opportunity to see the way they were intended. I had the luxury of finally seeing many classic films like Doctor Zhivago, Scarface, and Gone With the Wind not just for the first time, but in the best way possible, on that huge screen in that classic deco environment.

Photo by Daniel Diaz
[Ed's note - this is very naughty as Marzipan was on a very strict diet, but it does explain her occasionally being sick in the foyer...] 

Sometimes I arrived early or lingered late when it wasn’t too crowded, and just once or twice she actually came up to me, which was rather lovely, being separated as i was from my pets in Sydney. The thing is, I’ve never been a cat person, being from more of a dog-centric family, as well as being a bit allergic, as it turned out. So while I tended to be sparing in attempting to pat, much less snuggle this venerable moggy of the movie-house, I did always try to seek her out and bid her a warm hello whenever I arrived or left, if I could find her. She was, as they say, a fixture, and as I came to love the Astor as my home-away-from-home in Melbourne, so too did I come to have a special place in my heart for dear old Marzipan.

Although I’ve visited Melbourne only a few times since I moved back to Sydney, I’ve not been down for a couple of years now, and so a while back I was delighted to discover from following the Astor that Marzipan had her own Facebook page, and I have been delighted to follow her exploits from afar. It saddens me that I’ll never get to see her again, but I’m glad to have felt that I was able to keep tabs on her during her final years, even if only online. – Jack Teiwes

Going to see Richard Attenborough’s 1977 war film A Bridge Too Far. The final shot is a wide panorama of a phalanx of war refugees, slowly moving from screen right to screen left, and silhouetted against the setting of a massive orange sun. AT PRECISELY THE MOMENT the last of the refugees reaches the centre of the screen, Marzipan decides to walk -in the same direction and at the same pace- along the balustrade at the front of the dress circle. The effect is of a silhouetted, giant cat stalking the refugees. Needless to say, it brought the house down. – Michael Graves

She had jumped on our lap just after the start of Lawrence of Arabia. We had just friended her that evening on Facebook, so she must have known!  – Simon Huggard, Lisa Smith, Kahlie and Lauren in Moorabbin.

Haneke, notorious for using cinema as a social and political tool, turning the lens back onto his audience, always rendering the viewer implicit in the onscreen horrors, is a director deserving of a full retrospective. However, as anyone who regularly reads our blog posts will know, not all of his films were available to us at the time of programming owing to various expired theatrical screening rights.

Ensuring we could still show a challenging and rewarding selection of his beautiful and challenging works, we are pleased to present four very special sessions across March and April leading up to our screening of his latest Academy Award winning feature, Amour (2012). A mini retrospective, this is a rare chance to immerse yourself in one this century’s greatest creative minds. It will be difficult viewing, but for those of you who make it through every single session from start to finish*, there will a reward.

Having seen so many of Michael Haneke’s films on the big screen is of course reward enough (!) but as an added incentive we’ll be giving extra great gifts to the most stoic amongst you. And thanks to Madman Entertainment, some of those prizes will include DVD copies of films we aren’t showing during the retrospective, including The Piano Teacher (2001) and 71 Fragments of a Chronology of Chance (1994).

* Please note that in order to be eligible to win you must attend all five sessions of Michael Haneke films we are screening, from start to finish. On Monday 18th you will be issued with a passport at the ticket box if you wish to take part, please make sure you do so on Monday as we cannot give out passports after this date. Each time you arrive and depart from a Haneke session you will need to have your passport validated by one of our members of staff – either the ticket seller if in attendance or the supervisor at our candy bar. Please note that prizes will be of a limited quantity and that we cannot guarantee you will receive a prize of your choosing. The Astor Theatre reserve the right to refuse prizes to anyone who does not meet the entry requirements. 

For full season details, visit our website listings here.

Yep, a new delight following the traditional model of Astor Choc-Ice sees the creamy-crunchy-licious cookies ‘n’ cream ice-cream meet a traditional crisp cone, covered in milk chocolate and dusted with coconut. It’s an absolute monster of a mouthful and we recommend you try one before that blue guy gets wind of it and eats them all!

Though we talk about this often, it’s so important we think it’s worth re-stating; we would love to just pick the films we want to screen and programme those (and yes, before you ask, the first thing we would show would be the original Star Wars Trilogy!) Unfortunately, and beyond whether or not there is an available format to screen from (70mm, 35mm, 4K or 2DCP, digital et al), there must be valid theatrical screening rights for us and indeed any cinema, society or organiser of a public screening to show a film.

Theatrical rights will usually have a termed option (most often five years) and then, once those rights expire it’s a matter for legal negotiation between rights holders and potential distributors as to whether or not they wish to renew. If not the doors are open for another party to try to obtain the rights, which come at multi-thousand (sometimes in the tens of thousand) dollar prices. Even after rights are purchased, the producer always gets around 50% of rentals earned. As you would expect with anything involving legal contracts, this can take considerable time and money to confirm. This is also why a film might have theatrical rights one year and then no longer have them the next. Returning briefly to Blade Runner, this is why we last screened it in 35mm in 2010 and since have been unable to screen it.

This is also the reason why we were so excited to finally be able to screen Labyrinth (1986)and soon The NeverEnding Story (1984) – Astor proprietor George Florence has been looking into rights for NES for around nine years and now, thanks to Park Circus, acting on our tip, now representing the film, we can finally screen it. And yes, we do still have our fingers crossed for The Dark Crystal (1982).

But back to Wednesday and why we had such a late change to our programming. Of course at the time of printing our calendar (both current and upcoming) we were unaware that the rights for Apocalypse Now: Redux might expire before our scheduled screenings. Once notified that the screening rights had expired and as such our screenings could not go ahead we had two concerns: 1) an expectant audience who ought to be able to trust our calendar and come see the films we’ve scheduled and advertised, and 2) the fate for the incredibly rare and stunning 35mm Technicolor IB film print [Ed's note: the technology that created this stunning film print no longer exists, so even IF someone wanted to, another print COULD NOT be made.]. Often what happens when rights expire is that film prints are junked (destroyed) but thankfully we can assure everyone that the Apocalypse Now: Redux print is safe and being held until new rights can be negotiated.

Even though we began the process of trying to sort out an agreement in time to let us at least be able to honour the screenings already booked, we received late notice Wednesday afternoon that the process could not be approved until the request was officially signed off on by the rights owners. Although we have made inroads and do both hope and believe we will have confirmed something in time for the June 12th screening later this year, we were unable at the last minute to receive the approval we thought we would be granted to screen Wednesday night.

We want you to know that it wasn’t for lack of trying that the screening of Apocalypse was replaced by Django Unchained (2012). We also want you to know that we’ll keep working on it from now until however long it takes to get the film back up on our big screen. Apocalypse Now: Redux has been an Astor staple for years and every calendar has a space for it. One of the most significant reasons for this is due to the rarity of the print, made with a now past process that, as mentioned, can never be replicated. But, even as much as we love the print, and admire the incredible technical process to create it, without an audience the print is just a physical object in a box. For Coppola’s vision and the Technicolor frames to mean anything, they need to be seen by an audience in the original intended theatrical environment. It is our undertaking to bring what we consider to be the most sensational viewing experiences to the big screen. Apocalypse Now: Redux is one of them and we fully intend to keep it on our calendars.

Written by Tara Judah for the Astor Theatre.

To keep updated with news about future screenings of Apocalypse Now: Redux and other Astor related screenings and giveaways, keep an eye on our Facebook and Twitter accounts and subscribe to our weekly E-news via our website.

Origin, an animated short about a man on the brink of emigration, finally seeing the spirit of Dublin; Home Turf, a visual celebration of the dying art of turf cutting exploring the battle between man and machine; and Asal, the story of a young fisherman who risks his own life to save a friend, will screen before odd-couple comedy The Guard.

The films were programmed with the assistance of Melbourne-based Cork native Dr Liam Burke. Lecturer in Media Studies at Swinburne University of Technology, Dr Burke will introduce the screening on Sunday March 17. For more info or to book advance tickets, visit our website. We’ll see you at 2pm on the 17th – we look forward to a foyer glowing green!

At the end of the trial period there will be an online poll and the winner will become the new permanent Astor Choc-Ice flavour! The very first ice cream to enter the competition is the MANGO BLIZZARD which is every bit as awesome as it sounds. Mango ice cream dipped in white chocolate with a sprinkling of coconut on top. Mmmmm…. the perfect summer ice-cream, make sure you get one before they’re all gone!

Paul Morrissey met Andy Warhol in 1965 after he began making short films. His background had included a brief stint in the army and not so underground employment in insurance and social work before he took up the camera, but he was a clear artistic talent from the start and after his collaboration and distribution management on Warhol’s Chelsea Girls (1966), Imitation of Christ (1967) and Bike Boy (1967), Morrissey was ready for his first solo project: writer, director and producer on Lonesome Cowboy (1967). From here Morrissey turned his filmmaking intentions towards creating a new type of counter-culture within the American Underground that would come to be known as “trash aesthetics” matched with a camp-kitsch sensibility. This new style brought cinema a trilogy like no other; Flesh (1968), Trash (1970), Heat (1972). These films, and indeed everything branded by the Warhol Factory, made stars of its misfits – very much in the same way that John Waters was doing at the time in Baltimore with his own homegrown stars. Morrissey had an eye for fame and along with Joe Dallesandro whose pimply derriere will forever be immortalised on film, Morrrissey made Nico a star by adding her to the Factory’s rock ‘n’ roll group that would become iconic and influential, The Velvet Underground.

Following the underground success of his trilogy, Morrissey went on to make what are often still referred to as “Andy Warhol’s Dracula” and “Andy Warhol’s Frankenstein”, despite their both being decidedly Paul Morrissey films. Alternatively titled Blood For Dracula (1974) and Flesh For Frankenstein (1973), Morrissey’s somewhat ‘loose’ interpretation of Bram Stoker’s and Mary Shelley’s greats became cult triumphs that blended camp and kitsch sensibilities with gore and trash aesthetics and a linear, character driven narrative to achieve a type of pop-cult cinema. Where Warhol’s Blow Job and Chelsea Girls today find themselves projected onto white walls in modern art galleries, Morrissey’s films still find themselves occasionally clearing cobwebs and re-presented up on the big screen. With two stunning, rare and deliciously glorious 35mm film prints, we take great pleasure in presenting two of the “Factory’s” greatest tonight onscreen: Paul Morrissey’s Blood for Dracula and Flesh For Frankenstein.

And if you love all things counter-culture then you’re in for even more of a treat as, thanks to our good friends at Shock Entertainment, we have posters and DVD copies of the cult lover’s documentary American Grindhouse to giveaway! All you have to do to be in with a chance to win is turn up, get gory, experience a formal introduction to Udo Kier, and even learn a little something by really letting life **** you in the gallbladder.