Our writers share their thoughts on this year’s Whānau Mārama: New Zealand International Film Festival selections.
This year’s festival features plenty of gems (even if they might not all be available throughout Aotearoa). Our team of keen reviewers has been busy watching, and rendering their verdicts.
All 2022 mini-reviews:
Latest reviews | A – E | F – L | M – R | S – Z
Marcel the Shell with Shoes On
Whether you’re a Marcel stan from his YouTube origins or, like me, a total noob, you’ll be crinkled with laughter of all shapes by the end of this charmingest of all flicks. Surprisingly moving, and with extra Film Festival street cred for having Isabella Rossellini in the voice cast, just cancel your plans and see this asap! MATTHEW CRAWLEY
Following the short stop-motion animations this is Marcel’s first feature-length adventure. Adorably cute, and unabashedly corny, Marcel is a life-lesson in a shell. Perfectly voiced by Jenny Slate, and deftly animated by Dean Fleischer-Camp, the tiny shell in pink shoes sets off on a quest to find his family. Framed as a faux documentary, this is a surprisingly touching tale, ideal for all, big and small, old and young. Heck, even the most cynical, hard-shelled critic will struggle not to feel all the feels evoked by this most unlikely (and refreshingly non-MCU, or teenage mutant ninja) hero. ADAM FRESCO
Cuter than a catloaf with a soul to match, this film’s a total winner. Jenny Slate’s whimsical, wobbly voice and the animators’ pinpoint stop-mo approach gifts our lead seashell cyclops a chasm full of charm, with co-star and director Dean Fleischer-Camp the perfect straight-man for Marcel’s frequently hilarious child-like musings of the world and savage roasting of the humans that occupy it. Big kuia energy guides the gentle tale to the warmest place I’ve felt from a film all year. LIAM MAGUREN
Adorable animation surpassed already-high expectations in expanding the world of a little shell called Marcel into a feature-length tale of laughter and loss. Both heart-warming and -rending as Marcel cares for his aging grandmother and seeks out his vanished family, Jenny Slate’s voice brings the little guy and his unique outlook to life with plenty of heart and a ton of gags that evoke everything from wry smiles to chuckles and well-earned LOLs. STEVE NEWALL
McEnroe
Barney Douglas’s documentary digs deep into the psychological make-up of bad boy, “You cannot be serious!”, US tennis star John McEnroe, who takes centre court pondering his life. Plenty of archive footage for the fans, combined with a comprehensive and revealing contemporary interview with the subject, make this an intriguing and insightful portrait of how the pressures of being a talented teen in a culture that values success and excess take their toll. ADAM FRESCO
They f-ck you up, your mum and dad. Or, perhaps more correctly here, your raging sport dadager and a colossal amount of cocaine. A dramatic figure during tennis’s most glitzy years, John McEnroe himself isn’t looked at with a particularly critical eye in Barney Douglas’s documentary, but perhaps this is the point. McEnroe’s own involvement is key: allowing the figure to reflect back on their life with the (calming?) distance of time. Warning: becomes increasingly impossible not to yearn for the same full doco treatment of the enigmatic (and very calm) underwear magnate Björn Borg. SARAH THOMSON
Recounting John McEnroe’s prodigiously talented and volatile tennis career would alone be enough to justify a trip through fascinating archive footage showing how he both wowed and shocked the world in a way that a present-day athlete likely couldn’t. But McEnroe’s own participation and reflection, framed as a late night journey through his past, leads to insights for both the viewer—and, seemingly, the film’s subject. STEVE NEWALL
Meet Me in the Bathroom
The early 00s New York band explosion gets a deserved feature-length doco, which two decades later lends some cultural context to the rise of the Strokes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, LCD Soundsystem et al. Out of necessity lacking the immersive qualities of the oral history of the same name (Lizzy Goodman’s book from which it’s adapted), this is still a welcome document of the convergence of forces that saw a generation of acts rise (and fall) in a perfect storm, amd a reminder of their charm. PS fuck Ryan Adams and the drunk dudes in the screening who chatted and whooped their way through the film—yes, we get it, you like mainstream music too. STEVE NEWALL
Mona Lisa and the Blood Moon
Throbbing Italian techno, New Orleans decked out in sleazy neon, Burning’s Jeon Jong-seo with mind control powers, Kate Hudson chewing up the screen like the second coming. Blissfully coasting on pure style and vibes, with dazzling, highly atmospheric nocturnal cinematography locking down the first act into thrumming drift mode where the later passages become a little straighter. Like if Jim Jarmusch’s Mystery Train was reconfigured as a superhero chase flick. AARON YAP
Muru
Tūhoe has long stood mana motuhake and has, for just as long, faced post-colonial Crown retribution for that autonomous stance. Tearepa Kahi’s film Muru establishes that it seeks not to reconstruct such retributions, but instead reframe them in a fictional narrative still inspired by true events. A truly beautiful, gut wrenching film containing stunning performances (including Tūhoe activist Tāme Iti playing themselves), Muru pits a cast of characters who whakapapa Māori against one another – whether they be ‘anti-terrorist’ Special Tactics Group; NZ Police; or Tūhoe Nation – and asks the question: who do you serve and just what does that protect? An essential film. SARAH THOMSON
Director Tearepa Kahi makes good on the promise of past movies Poi E, Herbs, and Mt Zion, with a powerful tale recounting the 2007 Uruwera raids. A searing indictment of state violence, ingrained racism, and blinkered bureaucracy, Muru is anchored by a terrific cast, including Cliff Curtis as a local police officer caught between whānau, work, personal morality, and public duty. The bold casting of alleged “terrorist” Tame Iti as himself hits home, in a film that works as both a condemnation, and an escalating drama of violence, thanks to time invested in creating characters rather than clichés at the centre of a tragic action drama ripped from reality. ADAM FRESCO
Chilling moments as the full scope of Muru revealed itself as far beyond a retelling of an OTT police action, and instead conjured the response “Oh, this is about everything.” Fiction’s employed as a tool to convey fact and a gutpunch warning about never repeating past mistakes, aided immeasurably by Cliff Curtis’s superb anchoring performance and the verisimilitude of Tāme Iti playing feared terrorist… Tāme Iti. STEVE NEWALL
Created as a response to, not a recreation of, the Uruwera raids and ongoing state violence against the people of Tūhoe, Muru is a bold and electrifying exploration of the ways narrative storytelling can illustrate big truths without the limitations of documentary filmmaking. It’s moving, gentle, tense and ferocious all at the same time. The possibilities it opens for the ways we think about trauma and history are vast. It’s also a killer action film. Honestly still trying to process this one, you just gotta go see it. RACHEL ASHBY
My Old School
Perhaps this was never going to be able to live up to its promise of “twists you’ll never see coming”, and perhaps it could have benefited from a bit of a trim of its running time, but if the notion of an abundance of delightful Scottish accents retelling what was, admittedly, a pretty wild story, you might just find yourself getting a kick out of this flick. Plus, it’s got Alan Cumming in it – worth your pennies for that alone. MATTHEW CRAWLEY
Navalny
Access to Daniel Roher’s documentary subject—Russian opposition leader, Novichok survivor, ‘reformed nationalist’, and anti-corruption activist Alexei Navalny—is constant here, as is their projected sense of fortitude, Navalny scolding Roher’s camera for framing questions as if already in memoriam. Featuring one of the most chilling prank phone call sessions you’re likely to see and a stark reminder of where a certain Orangina-haired American learned their political speaking patterns, Navalny may be a little too observational in approach for hardened news hounds. But with access like this? Perhaps that’s more than enough. SARAH THOMSON
Neptune Frost
Juggling more ideas than it can ultimately handle, Saul Williams and Anisia Uzeyman’s Afrofuturist fable is notable for its inventive lo-fi design work, with copper wiring and computer circuitry adorning bodies and infiltrating the natural world. Propelled by a score with plenty of rhythmic heft, there’s a lot here to enjoy, even if narratively it falls somewhat short. TONY STAMP
Saul Williams and Anisia Uzeyman’s anti-capitalist Afrofuturist musical was never going to be West Side Story. Steeped in the couple’s knowledge of pan-African mythologies and filmed in Uzeyman’s native Rwanda with a largely Rwandan and Burundian cast/crew, Neptune Frost not only tells the tale of workers/students/bodies seeking to defy oppression and stricture but, as a piece of narrative art, also defies large swathes of hegemonic Western film structure. If you prefer your narratives more linear, at least stay for Williams’ never-fail music and Cedric Mizero’s incredible art/costume design. Should you take your nan though? Dunno. Depends how cool your nan is, TBH. SARAH THOMSON
Neptune Frost is a movie packed with very cool stuff; there’s a town made of old computer parts where people have resistors glued to their eyebrows, there are some truly breathtaking shots of rural Rwanda, and the music by Saul Williams is uniformly fantastic. At its most cryptic, it feels like it’s bypassing the boring parts of your brain to tell you something very important. At its most straightforward, its destined lovers plotline starts to feel less mythic and more just… thin. That said, you definitely won’t see another film quite like this one. AMELIA BERRY
I left this film feeling like that guy who doesn’t understand Shakespeare but gave Hamlet a go anyway. Didn’t have much of a clue what was going on. Sweet tunes, though. Dug the ambitious and wild costuming. Certainly had a lot on its mind and while I couldn’t keep up with most of it, there are parts of this otherworldly universe too cool to deny. If you asked me “How was the film,” I would say, “I didn’t get it.” Ask me “How are you,” though and I’d probably say, “Unanimous Goldmine.” LIAM MAGUREN
One Fine Morning
Un beau matin is a warm but fairly sedate film about the minor dramas and tragedies of life. It centres on Sandra (Léa Seydoux) as a single mother coping with homing her ailing father and chasing a new romance. While there are plenty of jewel-like vignettes of everyday beauty, the film largely meanders along in a way that would be charming- if it were 40 minutes shorter. However, Sedouyx is a compelling lead and plays an understated and quietly charismatic heroine that holds the film together. RACHEL ASHBY
That Léa Seydoux is quite the screen presence isn’t she? If the sound of following her through the seasons in a succession of natty Parisian outfits sounds good, look no further. She’s directed to yet another mesmerising performance by Mia Hansen-Løve, deploying her usual warmth and nuance in a story about complicated parenthood, and even more complicated romance. Still, even with all that heartache, upper-middle-class life in Paris looks bloody lovely. TONY STAMP
Perlimps
While it’s one of the most gorgeously hypnotic things I’ve ever seen in The Civic, this eco-activist fable is sadly weighed down by its two lead characters who spend most of the short running time either bickering childishly or explaining heavy fantasy lore. The film admirably brings together its dreamy, kaleidoscopic, rainbow-splashed vision of nature with the pair’s “mission”—its message to kids is blunt and rightfully damning of us adults—but ultimately made me wish the script leading up to it was better. LIAM MAGUREN
Piggy
Violent, vicious, and very powerful, Spanish writer/director Carlota Pereda’s debut is a gory, blood-splattered body horror, centred on Sara, a teen bullied because of her weight. The real terror here is the cruelty of youth, and the psychological pain casually inflicted by adolescents on anyone perceived as different. Shades of the brilliant Raw, echoes of Carrie, and enough visceral shocks, sadism, and slaughter to please even the most hardened post-feminist horror fan. ADAM FRESCO
Playground
An absolutely staggering performance by young Maya Vanderbeque, playing a seven-year-old going through the first-days-at-school gauntlet, powers this suspenseful schoolyard drama. With the exception of the bullies being vicious on a Stephen King level, this grounded childhood experience captures the raw emotions and confusion a kid feels when faced with serious conflict for the first time. A shame the abrupt ending, which felt like it was both too much and not enough. LIAM MAGUREN
Punch
Set against the black sand beaches of Tāmaki Makaurau’s West Coast, Punch follows 17-year-old boxing champ Jim (Jordan Oosterhof) as he falls for outcast classmate Whetu (Conan Hayes, in a star-making turn), all the while dealing with his father’s (Tim Roth) alcoholism and the homophobic prejudices of his insular rural town. Written and directed by Welby Ings, the film has all the rough edges you’d hope for from a feature debut, and while some swings miss, more than a few of them land, making for an artful exploration of small-town gay masculinity. AMANDA JANE ROBINSON
A queer coming-of-age, Welby Ings’ first feature is an Aotearoa movie unafraid to punch above its weight. The toxic masculinity and homophobia of a small town are framed by Jordan Oosterhof as teenager Jim, pushed into boxing by his alcoholic father, Stan (Brit actor and Tarantino regular, Tim Roth). But Jim’s passion lies in filmmaking rather than pugilism, and in an attraction to classmate Whet (Conan Hayes). With its focus on modern Māori experience, coming out, sexuality, and masculinity, Punch resonates because of the commitment of its two young lead actors, and in subtle storytelling, shot with an eye for detail, revealing both the agony and ecstasy of the everyday. ADAM FRESCO
Resurrection
Seeming on the surface suspiciously like yet another pandering post-me too movie that Hollywood loves, Resurrection’s harrowing story of a woman haunted by an abusive ex-boyfriend is quickly revealed to be quite another thing entirely—a searing, stunning interrogation of power and manipulation. Proving once again that no one is doing it quite like Rebecca Hall, her performance as the haunted, traumatised Margaret is literally hair-raising. Tim Roth, meanwhile, poses an almost other-worldly menace, as dizzying an influence on the viewer as he is to his former lover. The most devastating blow comes around halfway through the film in an 8-minute, unbroken monologue that days later I still can’t seem to shake. Absent of flashbacks and chillingly, bewilderingly upsetting, in a single shot of Hall’s face Resurrection takes familiar subject matter to an unforgettable new level. KATIE PARKER
Return to Seoul
Park Ji-min is instantly magnetic as French-Korean Freddie, prone to acting on whims such as a return trip to her birthplace, regardless of (or perhaps subconsciously because of) the consequences. This homecoming refracts the course of her life in ways expected as well as surprising, portrayed with a wry sense of humour and complete lack of judgement that make the eventual catharsis that much more affecting. TONY STAMP
Stirring tale of French-raised, Korean-born adoptee reconciling with her roots. A thorny, emotionally volatile journey wrestling with notions of identity and home, and the deep-seated, binding strengths of familial bonds. It’s all charted with nuanced humour and pathos by director Davy Chou and lead Park Ji-min, whose layered, eminently charged performance underpins her character’s impulsive, chaotic spirit with simmering anguish. AARON YAP
All 2022 mini-reviews:
Latest reviews | A – E | F – L | M – R | S – Z
