10/10

 

I’ll be honest, I went into this flick without any prior knowledge or understanding of what it was even about. I’d heard maybe one or two comments about it but nothing past it being indigenous stories being told through different lenses. Get in mate, can’t go wrong with a couple of stories that aren’t centred around casting indigenous people as angry SJWs with a passion for fucking shit up. Which we are, and this movie was that. But honestly? In the best ways possible. 

 

With 8 unique stories, it’s sort of a hard one to break down without diminishing different stories and not putting enough emphasis on the different directors. But here’s the low-down. It’s 8 Australasian stories as a response to the 250th anniversary of the Second voyage of James Cook. 10 directors came together to combat the ensuing celebrations for the man who took it all. There’s a mixture of style, medium and story-telling techniques. I’m going to try and contain my excitement without letting it spill over the top, so here goes. 

 

The first story you’re introduced to is a mixed media flick, a mix of animation and live-action. Rotoscoping isn’t nearly used enough in film but this one showed you EXACTLY how it should be used. There are no words shared between wāhine as they show the early stages of indigenous persons utilising the moana to do their fishing–gathering the kai for their whānau. This is all before their waka is intruded by the arrival of Cook. The shots have a mix of eerily distant wails and wind and the faked diegetic sound that conveys the crashing of the waves and the water hitting the sides of the devastation of their people. Danielle Maclean is a MASTER of weaving sound and visuals in a way that feels like a novel coming to life.

 

How do you follow that strong open? DENA MOTHERFREAKING CURTIS. With their heart-wrenching storytelling around early settlers in Australia, one man specifically, murdering and pillaging an entire mob. From start to finish, you can’t help but hold your breath in the hopes that there’s a break to absorb what happened. You don’t, trust me on this. The way Curtis is able to distinguish the level of power from the first shots, having the settler literally above the Aboriginal people–it’s horrifying. But you really can’t look away, admiring the absolute relentlessness to accurately tell the story. They command you to look at them, to understand the plight and struggle they faced. They continue to face.

 

Richard Curtis and Tim Worrall introduce the Māori storytelling with the next part, a struggling hui between two Iwi Māori as to whether they join the war for their people. There’s one sequence I want to highlight. Tioreore Ngatai and her delivery of the Haka in support of fighting with her people. She’s a rare gem and a massive asset for the future of Māori filmmaking. The entire film is impressive, with the colouring that’s standard with Māori film–dark and brooding. It’s a devastating watch, knowing the outcome and death that came with it. Ngatai leads the film with the mana that it deserves. I won’t speak on it in great depth because it’s something you need to watch to feel. But Richard and Tim, thank you.

 

Gallipoli, 1915. Our Sāmoan fighters are featured finally. The distraught about them being sent to war, fighting for land that isn’t theirs. For people who don’t necessarily see them as equals. For a country hell-bent on diminishing the culture of Sāmoa. Holy shit. Miki Magasiva and Maria Gaoa took what was a fairly simple premise and turned it into a visually stimulating story that just breaks you. The actor (who I can’t find) was genuinely devastating to watch–his face just breaking you as he fears for his life.

 

Invasion Day. I cannot rewatch this. Not because it’s bad, because it’s marvellous, and because it’s so fucking heartbreaking. The two characters have major chemistry and I can’t look away. There’s a scene of some pretty violent racism on the two aboriginal wāhine as they stand outside Captain Cook’s home–anticipating the Invasion Day protest. One of whom sadly passes away; it’s hard to watch. But it’s just breathtaking. Tracey Rigney shows up and shows out with a truly beautiful ode to the strength of a mother and the power of anger. Or revenge.

 

Renae Maihi delivers the most violent and darkest of the films. It depicts the arrests and violence surrounding the Springbok tour protest in the 80’s, with Māori men thrown into jail–sitting in the rain. The police are violent, relentless and angry towards the tāne māori with a heavy fist falling down on them. You can’t help but wince as you watch them fight back in a hopeless attempt to protect themselves. It’s heart-wrenching. 

 

The final film is just so freaking cute. Aside from the racism and police hatred towards aboriginal people. It’s a love story that has undertones (or overtones). But in the end, it’s just a story of a girl and a guy flirting as he comes into the shop to buy alcohol every day to only have it taken from the police for a myriad of different excuses. Mostly they claim he’s just going to give it to his family and fuel the alcoholism in indigenous communities.

 

The film is just beautiful and you need to give it a watch, please do me that favour. It makes me, and I’m sure so many others, endlessly proud to be indigenous and reaffirms what we already know. We are still here.