TL;DR: Canberra authorities are embracing a tough approach to ransomware threats. A new law will require certain organizations to disclose when and how much they have paid to cybercriminals following a data breach. However, experts remain unconvinced that this is the most effective way to tackle the problem. Companies operating in Australia must now report any payments made to cybercriminals after experiencing a ransomware incident. Government officials hope the new mandate will help them gain a deeper understanding of the issue, as many enterprises continue to pay ransoms whenever they fall victim to file-encrypting malware. Originally proposed last year, the law applies only to companies with an annual turnover exceeding $1.93 million. This threshold targets the top 6.5 percent of Australia's registered businesses – representing roughly half of the country's total economic output. Under the new law, affected companies must report ransomware incidents to the Australian Signals Directorate (ASD). Failure to properly disclose an attack will result in fines under the country's civil penalty system. Authorities are allegedly planning to follow a two-stage approach, initially prioritizing major violations while fostering a "constructive" dialogue with victims. Starting next year, regulators will adopt a much stricter stance toward noncompliant organizations. The Australian government has implemented this mandatory reporting requirement after concluding that voluntary disclosures were insufficient. In 2024, officials noted that ransomware and cyber extortion incidents were vastly underreported, with only one in five victims coming forward. Ransomware remains a highly complex and growing phenomenon, with attacks reaching record levels despite increased law enforcement actions against notorious cyber gangs. Although several governments have proposed similar regulations, Australia is the first country to formally enact such a law. // Related Stories Jeff Wichman, director of incident response at cybersecurity firm Semperis, cautions that mandatory reporting is a double-edged sword. While the government may gain valuable data and insights into attacker profiles, the law may not reduce the frequency of attacks. Instead, it could serve mainly to publicly shame breached organizations – while cybercriminals continue to profit. A recent Semperis study found that over 70 percent of 1,000 ransomware-hit companies opted to pay the ransom and hope for the best. "Some companies, they just want to pay it and get things done, to get their data off the dark web. Others, it's a delayed response perspective, they want negotiations to happen with the attacker while they figure out what happened," Wichman explained. According to the study, 60 percent of victims who paid received functional decryption keys and successfully recovered their data. However, in 40 percent of cases, the provided keys were corrupted or ineffective.

In 2018 Korean animator and illustrator Han Ji-won created a commercial for jewelry brand Stonehenge that follows a girl who dreams of going to space, just like her astronaut grandmother. The brief, beautiful animation caught the attention of Korean production company Climax Studios, who saw potential for a much bigger story about the human connections astronauts carry with them into space.  Seven years later, the Netflix animated film Lost in Starlight expands that near-future world into a story of two star-crossed lovers who fall in love on the neon-lit rooftops of a futuristic Seoul only to be separated by 140 million miles when one of them embarks on an expedition to Mars.  “While I was developing the script [for Lost in Starlight], a lot of things changed,” writer-director Han says In fleshing out the story, she was inspired by the individuality of Miyazaki, the edgy sentimentality of Cowboy Bebop, and the near-future worldbuilding of Her. “But, still, there were the same keywords: space, female lead, music, childhood, and love.”  Lost in Starlight centers a slice-of-life love story between astro botanist Nan-young (voiced by The Handmaiden’s Kim Tae-ri in Korean and Never Have I Ever’s Maitreyi Ramakrishnan in English) and musician Jay (voiced by Weak Hero’s Hong Kyung in Korean, and Umbrella Academy’s Justin H. Min in English). For Nan-young, who hopes to find life on the planet, Mars is personal. Her mother was part of a doomed, 2026 mission to the Red Planet. Twenty-five years later, Nan-young dreams of continuing in her mother’s footsteps, and helping the Adonis amurensis flower thrive on the alien planet.  “My character is kind of stubborn at times,” says Ramakrishnan, with a laugh. “She’s a girl boss, but she needs to take a breath.” That breath comes in the form of a return to Seoul from Houston, following low psychological exam scores that have Nan-young bumped from an upcoming Martian expedition. The driven scientist doesn’t give up on her goal, continuing her development of a Life Form Detector to try to earn a spot on the trip, but she also finds time to devote to fixing her late mother’s busted record player. When Nan-young literally bumps into Jay with the 2023 Crozby in her arms, he becomes determined to fix it for her.  “I would describe Jay as someone who doesn’t really believe in himself,” Min says of the character who is working in a vintage electronics repair shop after turning away from his passion for composing and performing music. “I think he is more concerned about the practicalities of life and just kind of getting by. I think he has a lot of dreams, but he doesn’t quite know how to act on them and fulfill them.” While Jay may be hesitant in his music, he is determined when it comes to pursuing the brilliant Nan-young. By the time he has fixed her record player, the two have fallen for one another… but can their budding relationship survive the distance between Earth and Mars? Like the short animation it stems from, Lost in Starlight is far more interested in the emotional dimensions of space travel than the logistical ones. The Martian, this is not—nor does it want to be, instead curious about the work of human connection in a sometimes unforgiving but never hopeless universe. The film’s space-scapes are vividly animated, and especially powerful in the abstract. In one climactic, hallucinatory moment, Nan-young’s vision explodes with the yellow blossoms of the flower that connects her work to her mother’s, across time and mortality. She imagines the galaxy as a spinning record, the vinyl representing connections to her mother and to Jay, as well as the natural forces that move us all along.  The story is strongest, however, in its most mundane, Earth-bound moments, and in the ways Han’s animation is able to connect the familiar with the fantastic so seamlessly. Like anime auteurs Hideko Miyazai and Makoto Shinkai before her, Han is incredibly detailed in her realization of interior spaces, bringing a sense of realism to the animated format that casts the same warm, human touch to the mise-en-scene of a Martian research facility as it does Jay’s sunlit, stickered Euljiro apartment. In 2051 Seoul, massive holographic jellyfish float through the twilight sky, but Nan-young’s aging father still sticks struggling plants in an old mug emblazoned with a heart-shaped photo of his family from decades previous. And when Nan-young takes a self-driving car home after a long day, Han focuses not on the technology but our weary protagonist toeing off her work heels. This balance between the futuristic and the familiar is further buoyed by the film’s soundtrack, which features work from Korean artists such as CIFIKA, Meego, and Wave to Earth’s Kim Daniel. “I am a little bit greedy about having really good soundtracks,” says Han. “I wanted it to be futuristic but not apocalyptic, a little bit edgy but soft at the same time.” Han chose synth-pop as the main sound, pairing the electronic sounds of the genre with subdued, dreamy beats. Korean voice actors Kim and Hong contributed some of the lyrics for the tender, lulling songs Jay writes and performs in the film. Korean media has become known internationally for its love stories, most famously depicted in the K-drama format. While Lost in Starlight borrows some of the same narrative DNA that makes those romances tick, it represents something startlingly original within a Korean animation industry that has more often been known internationally for its outsourcing work and preschool TV programs than feature films for adults. “While we still have those companies in Korea doing a lot of outsourcing work, we also have new aspiring companies that come into the picture,” says Han of the state of the Korean animation industry.  Join our mailing list Get the best of Den of Geek delivered right to your inbox! Han, who became the youngest Korean animator to direct a theatrically released feature film in 2015 with anthology Clearer Than You Think, comes from an indie background, but worked with a commercial production company to make Lost in Starlight. “We have these great artists who have a lot of potential in terms of their creativity and storytelling, and then we have these companies who are now willing to do both the pre and main production works,” says Han. “I think we need a lot of love and interest and support from a lot of different players, and I hope that it could be consistent, so that we can keep on working on our projects. If that happens, then I think we’re going to bloom like flowers.” Lost in Starlight is available to stream on Netflix starting May 30.

“Magnetic” (2025), oil on canvas, 23.62 × 23.62 inches. All images courtesy of the artist and DCG Contemporary, shared with permission In Surreal Portraits, Rafael Silveira Tends to the Garden of Consciousness May 29, 2025 Art Kate Mothes With scenic vistas for faces, blossoms for eyes, or nothing but coral above the shoulders, Rafael Silveira’s surreal portraits summon aspects of human consciousness that span the spectrum of the wonderful and the weird. The Brazilian artist describes his work as “a profound dive into the human mind,” merging flowers, landscapes, and uncanny hybrid features into visages that channel humor with a slightly sinister undertone. Silveira’s forthcoming solo exhibition, Agricultura Cósmica at DCG Contemporary, traverses “the fertile terrain of the subconscious,” the gallery says. “With a nod to pop surrealism and the uncanny, his work imagines the mind as a garden where thoughts are seeds and images (are) the wildflowers that sprout.” “PLEEESE” (2025), oil on canvas, 23.62 × 23.62 inches Silveira works predominantly in oil, using panel or canvas as a surface and occasionally surrounding his works with ornate, hand-carved wooden frames. The sculptural details of the frames, like an anatomical heart in “Eyeconic Couple” or an all-seeing eye topping “A Crocância do Tempo” — “the crunchiness of time” in Portuguese — read like talismans. Many of Silveira’s compositions begin with a traditional head-and-shoulders portrait composition as a starting point, but instead of skin we see a distant horizon, like in “Magnetic,” or a figure’s head supplanted by a stalk of coral or a column of fire. Other pieces omit the human outline altogether in amusing arrangements of vivid flowers, which suggest wide eyes and addled expressions. While human forms shed their emotional autonomy as they converge with their surroundings, the flora in works like “OMG” and “PLEEESE” are a profusion of awe and desire. Agricultura Cósmica opens in London on June 12 and continues through July 10. The show runs concurrently alongside an exhibition titled Plural by embroidery artist Flavia Itiberê. See more on the artist’s website and Instagram. “Eyeconic Couple” (2025), oil on panel and hand-carved frame, 15.75 × 35.43 inches “Inside Out” (2025), oil on canvas, 35.4 x 31.5 inches “A Crocância do Tempo” (2025), oil on panel and hand-carved frame, 35.4 x 31.5 inches “The Artifice of Eternity” (2025), oil on canvas, 23.62 × 31.5 inches “OMG” (2025), oil on canvas, 23.62 × 23.62 inches “Paixão Ardente” (2025), oil on panel and hand-carved frame, 35.4 x 31.5 inches “The Roots of Reality” (2025), oil on canvas, 35.4 x 31.5 inches Next article

As construction nears completion, the Olympic Village for the Milano Cortina 2026 Winter Games has offered an insight into how the village is being used as part of a broader regeneration of the Scalo di Porta Romana rail yard. Designed by Skidmore, Owings & Merrill (SOM), the scheme is the first phase of a long-term transformation of the disused industrial site into a mixed-use urban district. Image courtesy of Fondo di Porta Romana, photograph by ThreeditionsImage courtesy of Fondo di Porta Romana, photograph by ThreeditionsOriginally planned to accommodate approximately 1,700 athletes during the Winter Olympics, the Olympic Village has also been designed for life after the event. After the Winter Olympics conclude, the development will transition into student housing for the 2026/2027 academic year, addressing a growing demand for accommodation in Milan’s university sector. Image courtesy of Fondo di Porta Romana, photograph by ThreeditionsImage courtesy of Fondo di Porta Romana, ...