PUNCH (2022) [NZIFF]

Seventeen-year-old Jim is a small-town boxing hero who carries the hopes and dreams of his father Stan on his shoulders. His growing relationship with a local boy, Whetu, forces him to confront the truth about his sexuality, and choose his own future.

New Zealand has been forever dealing with its legacy of toxic masculinity. The "she'll be right" attitude that we have adopted from our neighbours across the Tasman has become such an inherent part of Kiwi culture that its effects are long-reaching and destructive. Even our much celebrated "No. 8 wire" way of thinking shows our inability to reach out and ask for help from others. It's not just our creativity, it's our masculine way of life. Much like the All Blacks Haka, it is a show of dominance intended to instil fear in those that it is aimed at. It is not a show of our skill in the sport, it is intimidation.

Punch looks at one of the "manliest" sports that exists: boxing. The sport of literally bludgeoning another person to the ground. It's archaic, but it's celebrated. Society progresses, but we still celebrate those instinctual elements of life that to succeed you must be physically dominant. What boxing also provides, is a safety net or shelter for those in denial about their sexuality. An ingrained hatred of the LGBTQ+ community for their largely dismissive attitude towards brute force and power plays, the support of aggressive sports allows predators the ability to act in an untoward fashion but cover it up with a false facade of masculinity.


Punch is a play on power. Our lead character Jim is the boxing champ in his town (granted the only boxer), the one person who has the physical power and technical knowledge to dominate and intimidate others, but he is in a constant state of submission. Controlled and directed by his parents' own goals and ambitions, helpless to prevent his father's alcoholism, constantly (emotionally) attacked as he attempts to discover himself outside of his environment and familial pressures. His own status and masculinity provide little comfort to him. 

It is through his interactions with local boy Whetu, that Jim's eyes are opened up to the possibility of a life without forced training and diets, a life that transcends his ability to punch someone in the face. To find a path that brings him joy, and to surround himself with like-minded people who support his goals, rather than pressuring him to meet their goals. Bigotry is more aggressive in rural areas due to their isolation, but Punch attempts to highlight the contradictory nature of the aggression that the LGBTQ+ community has inflicted upon it. 


The pacing in Punch is slower and more exploratory in nature and plays with graphic content such as sexual abuse, verbal assaults, and physical violence. The colour schemes work well, with the hyper-masculine settings clouded in murkiness and a drained dirty palette, while Whetu and Jim's interactions are highlighted with crisp colours, fast movements, and an alleviating sense of nature.

Jordan Oosterhof does a great job in his portrayal of Jim, externalizing the fear of going against the norm. He wants to fit in and be accepted, despite struggling with the knowledge that his needs do not match everyone else's. Conan Hayes portrayal of Whetu is well executed. His performance holds a host of barbs to protect that softness and trusting nature that he desires with others. A softness that is eager to come forth at the slightest prompt. 

It's dark but wondrous, constricting but exploratory, Punch brings the physical and mental pain of being marginalized and isolated. A brutal but honest look at the true legacy of New Zealand.

Punch is premiering at the 2022 NZ International Film Festival

WHEN THE COWS COME HOME (2022) [NZIFF]

After a social misfit fails in life and love, he returns to the family farm, where he discovers an unexpected and bewitching affinity with cows.

When you are making that all-important decision of what you want to view when attending the New Zealand International Film Festival, it would be quite easy to overlook the documentary about a farmer who loves his cows. 104 minutes of a man in a paddock talking us through the personalities and eccentricities of his favourite bovine pets. However, what seems like an inconsequential farming documentary is actually a deep dive into mental illness, childhood trauma, and the negative effects of media.


Andrew Johnstone is our man-on-the-ground, guiding us through the discovery of a lifetime; the unexpected therapeutic effect of farming, and the kindness of cows. When the Cows Come Home weaves two narrative story arcs; the life history of Johnstone, and the evolution of his farming strategy. The latter farming strategy proves to be the stronger arc initially, Johnstone's life history hits hard at the end, merging the arcs into a singular unified vision.

There is an air of innocence and wholesomeness that isn't always attributed to the farming occupation. The reality of breeding and raising cows for slaughter provides that grounded reality of where our beef comes from, but the mental wear and tear that the process can cause on the farmers is not often delved into. For those who see the occupation as more than a job, for those who love seeing their bovine fellows interacting, growing, and adventuring, living their best life, it is a harrowing experience to knowingly cut those lives short in the name of making beef for the masses. 


The tenderness and love that Johnstone holds for his pets Tilly and Maggie are reminiscent of the emotions we have for our own domestic pets; each animal has their own personality, likes and dislikes. When the Cows Come Home does more for the vegan/vegetarian movement than any other documentary that I've seen, as doesn't focus on the brutal end, so much as on the lives that they live, and how their presence impacts those around them.

Calming, therapeutic, cathartic, tranquil...however you want to describe it, there is no denying the relaxing way in which Johnstone approaches farming. It all connects back to who Johnstone is as a person, his trials and tribulations, traumas, and mental illnesses. His life comes from the era before mental health was a spectrum; before it was understood what mental illnesses truly meant, or how to adapt to a prognosis. Johnstone has been through a life of conflicting victimization and rebellious anarchy. Musician. Reviewer. Farmer. In and out of the public eye, Johnstone would never say that he has been afraid to try anything, but his battles with mental illness have taught him to recognize and respond accordingly, by withdrawing to the safety of his cows.


Disarmingly charming, though occasionally narratively muddy, When the Cows Come Home is a heartwarming treat that breaks the mould of conventional documentaries. More observational and situational awareness than hard-hitting facts and investigative journalism, this is an experience to enjoy at your own pace. 

When the Cows Come Home is premiering at the 2022 NZ International Film Festival