In the Paddington district, just a few paces and around one corner from the train station, you will find the Frontline Club. The dimly lit dining room, shadowed by the orange streetlights of Norfolk Street goes unnoticed, until the corner of my eye is called to attention by the subtle gestures of three men occupying a table by the window. I nearly walk right past the place. But I recognize the courier letters spelling Frontline horizontally down the stucco wall; this must be it. But where's the door?
I feel like I'm entering a secret society when I finally find the side door - which is the front door to the club. A sign, hung hurriedly on a slant, asks me to buzz for entry. My finger barely touches the bell and the door is opened before me by a young man, the convenor of this evening's screening of, A Crude Awakening.
The film, produced and directed by two European artists documents the inevitable emptying of the planet's oil reserves, the underground stores of this non-renewable resource dwindling as we consume at alarming rates.
In a successful attempt to shock the audience, but without deluding our understanding of the gravity of this issue, the film predicts a regression toward a simplified lifestyle, devoid of the plentiful luxuries of oil-based products. In other words, we will be hitting the highways in horse-drawn buggies and cooking on open fires if technology doesn't advance in time to harness energy from alternative sources, like wind and sun, before the last drop of oil is used. Scientists admit we are already far behind.
The Frontline Club is a gathering place for individuals who value independent and free media. It honours journalists and camerapersons who have risked and lost their lives on the frontlines and provides ongoing screenings, like this evening's, as well as panel discussions on media-related issues and stories that have fallen into the shadows of mainstream news.
Tonight's screening was a warm up to the world I will be immersed in for the next year. I attended out of interest in the topic but also to explore the club, network, and get thinking like a journalist. The session concluded with questions open to the director, followed by some intermingling as we finished our drinks and until I found myself coralled out the door among a small group of filmmakers and journalists energized by he film's powerful message. The chatter continued on the darkened corner of Norfolk, my excitement barely visible under the dim light of the orange streetlamp across the street.
