SUA (2024) [DAY ONE SHORTS]

The life of a Samoan immigrant bus driver and his experience in Aotearoa 

Sua is a short documentary directed by Robert Norman and produced by Pilisita Mateni with consulting producer Elizabeth Laupepa. Clocking in at just under 10 minutes, the film offers a glimpse into the life of Sua, a Samoan immigrant who has worked as a bus driver in Aotearoa. While the documentary has its strengths—most notably the subject's compelling personal story—it struggles to find a cohesive direction, resulting in a viewing experience that feels fragmented and unfocused.

At the heart of Sua is an interesting and significant story. Sua's life as a retired bus driver, who was once a teacher and now works within the church, represents the journey of many Pacific Island immigrants who have come to Aotearoa in search of better opportunities for themselves and their families. His passion for helping others, both physically and spiritually, is evident, and there is an underlying warmth and humanity that shines through his anecdotes. The film highlights the importance of hearing the stories of older generations, especially those who have migrated from their home countries and built new lives in unfamiliar places.

Sua’s story holds immense potential, as it touches on themes of migration, sacrifice, family, and community. However, these elements feel largely disconnected from each other in the final product. Rather than building a cohesive narrative, the documentary comes across as a collection of disparate memories. The audience is introduced to different aspects of Sua's life—his work as a bus driver, his past as a teacher, and his involvement with the church—but these pieces are not woven together into a clear storyline. The lack of a central purpose or direction leaves viewers with more questions than answers, as the film never fully explores how these different facets of Sua’s life connect to one another.

Visually, Sua is a mixed experience. The film appears to have been shot with a single camera, and this choice severely limits the visual storytelling. Without additional footage or cutaway shots, the camera is forced to constantly follow the subject, which results in distracting movement. The camera shifts from side to side, zooms in and out, and occasionally goes out of focus, all of which detract from the interview and disrupt the viewer's engagement with the story.

When the camera does settle down, the film offers some beautiful shots. The close-ups of Sua are particularly effective, capturing the emotion in his face as he recounts his experiences. These moments allow the audience to connect with him on a deeper level, providing a brief glimpse into his world. Unfortunately, these strong visual moments are overshadowed by the overall inconsistency in the camerawork. The lack of additional footage also means that there is little room for editing, which could have helped smooth out some of the more distracting visual elements.

Despite its shortcomings, Sua has a strong foundation to build upon. Sua himself is a passionate and engaging subject, with a story to tell. With better direction and focus, the film could more effectively explore the themes of migration, identity, and community that it touches upon. 

With more focused storytelling, stronger interview techniques, and improved visual consistency, Sua has the potential to be a meaningful exploration of the Samoan immigrant experience in Aotearoa. By honing in on the central themes of migration, identity, and community, the film could become a powerful testament to the resilience and strength of the Pacific Islander community.

Day One Hāpai te Haeata provides rangatahi with the tools, guidance and opportunities to share stories on screen.

The entire series of the eight short films premieres at Hollywood Avondale on Tuesday 3rd September, with all films then released online the following day - and socials thereafter. 

View the shorts here

YEAH PARE (2024) [DAY ONE SHORTS]

Lost in the night markets 2 young boys befriend each other and go on an adventure - video game style!

Yeah Pare is a short film that combines childhood adventure with the vibrant chaos of the Pakuranga Night Markets. Directed by Sean Dioneda Rivera and Albert Latailakepa, and produced by Danny Aumua, this 9-minute gem effectively transports viewers into a whimsical, game-inspired world where two young boys, amidst the lively market stalls, find friendship and embark on a journey that feels reminiscent of classic video games.

What stands out immediately in Yeah Pare is the blending of art styles. The film shifts between live-action sequences and 8-bit pixel animations, reminiscent of early Gameboy aesthetics. This visual approach not only adds a layer of nostalgic charm but also serves a functional purpose, acting as a creative method of transitioning between scenes. The pixel animations allow for creative visualisation of the boys' movements throughout the market, giving the film a dynamic energy that mirrors the pace of arcade games. This melding of styles offers a fresh take on visual storytelling, enhancing the film's appeal to both younger audiences and those who fondly remember the early days of video gaming.

The 8-bit sequences in particular are cleverly integrated into the narrative. Rather than feeling like a simple stylistic choice, these animations are woven into the film's fabric, representing the boys' adventurous spirit as they navigate through different challenges in the market. Each transition between live-action and animation feels purposeful, making the film feel cohesive despite its use of different mediums.

Yeah Pare is a playful exploration of childhood curiosity and the bonds formed through shared experiences. The script, written by Rivera and Latailakepa, captures the innocence and excitement of two boys on an adventure. The night market setting serves as a perfect backdrop, with its bustling atmosphere and a myriad of stalls, each offering its own unique sights and sounds. The film feels like a series of mini-adventures, with each stop along the way marked by its own theme, whether it be horror, action, or something in between.

The comedic elements are well-executed, with light-hearted banter between the two leads, keeping the tone fun and engaging. Despite the fast pace of the film, there's a sense of camaraderie between the characters, making their journey through the night market feel relatable and authentic. The humour is cleverly interspersed, never overpowering the adventure aspect but adding to the overall enjoyment of the film.

Rivera and Latailakepa show a strong understanding of visual storytelling in Yeah Pare. The use of close-ups and handheld camera work during the chase scenes effectively conveys a sense of movement and urgency, drawing the audience into the boys' world. The camera work is energetic yet controlled, making the market feel like a labyrinth of endless possibilities. The film's editing is tight, with smooth transitions between scenes, helped along by the 8-bit animations that give the film a brisk, forward momentum.

While the film’s use of montages helps to build the atmosphere of the night market, there are a few moments where repeated scenes slightly detract from the film’s otherwise seamless flow. However, this is a minor issue in an otherwise well-constructed short. The use of B-roll footage adds depth to the setting, painting a vivid picture of the market's bustling environment without overwhelming the central narrative.

Sound design plays a crucial role in enhancing the arcade-inspired visuals of Yeah Pare. The soundtrack complements the 8-bit animations, evoking the familiar sounds of old-school gaming while simultaneously fitting into the lively ambience of the night market. The sound design is thoughtfully chosen, creating an immersive experience that echoes the film's playful and adventurous tone. Whether it's the hum of the market or the digital blips of the pixelated world, the soundscape adds another layer to the film’s storytelling.

Yeah Pare is a charming short film that successfully captures the essence of youthful adventure and the magic of new friendships. Through its creative use of live-action and 8-bit pixel animation, the film offers a unique visual experience that is both nostalgic and refreshing. Rivera and Latailakepa’s direction brings together a playful script, engaging performances, and strong technical elements to create a film that resonates with audiences of all ages.

Though the film is brief, its impact is lasting. Yeah Pare is not just a journey through the night markets; it’s a journey back to childhood, when every corner held a new possibility and every stranger could become a friend. For viewers looking for a light-hearted adventure with a touch of nostalgia, Yeah Pare is a delightful and heartwarming watch.

Day One Hāpai te Haeata provides rangatahi with the tools, guidance and opportunities to share stories on screen.

The entire series of the eight short films premieres at Hollywood Avondale on Tuesday 3rd September, with all films then released online the following day - and socials thereafter. 

View the shorts here

WILBERT WIRE (2024) [DAY ONE SHORTS]

An autistic student who is ‘othered’ attends an art class and is tasked by his teacher to create a painting about love

Wilbert Wire, directed and written by Ricky Townsend, is a charming and imaginative short film that blends elements of science fiction with family-friendly storytelling. With a runtime of 13 minutes, the film offers a delightful exploration of an autistic student's journey to understand the concept of love through a unique art assignment. Produced by Ella Waswo and co-produced by Joseph Chamsay, this short manages to captivate with its engaging premise and inventive execution.

The core of Wilbert Wire revolves around Wilbert Wire, an autistic student who finds himself at odds with his peers and the world around him. Tasked by his teacher to create a painting about love, Wilbert's attempt to comprehend and depict this complex emotion forms the crux of the film. The premise is both fun and thought-provoking, using the art class setting to explore broader themes of emotional expression and acceptance.

The film employs familiar stereotypes associated with autism—difficulty in expressing emotions, adherence to routines, and a fascination with trains—but it does so with a refreshing twist. Rather than reducing Wilbert to a mere collection of traits, the film embraces these characteristics to craft a narrative that is both endearing and insightful.

The opening scenes, featuring commercials and channel surfing, are a clever way to introduce the world of the film. These elements set up the narrative in an entertaining and engaging manner, creating a payoff that resonates throughout the film.

One of the standout aspects of Wilbert Wire is its set design and lighting. The art room, though occasionally marred by slightly shaky camerawork, is otherwise visually engaging, with a smooth tracking of the characters and their interactions. The film’s colour palette plays a significant role in establishing mood and tone. The use of a yellow gradient during the simulation scenes is particularly effective, creating a visual distinction that enhances the storytelling.

The lighting and colour choices extend to Wilbert’s home environment as well, where the warm yellows contribute to a sense of comfort and belonging. This thoughtful application of colour helps to underscore the emotional nuances of the film and highlights the contrast between Wilbert’s internal world and the external environment.

A notable highlight of the film is the simulation sequence, where Wilbert attempts to understand and enact love through mime and interpretative actions. This sequence is not only a brilliant showcase of physical storytelling but is also enhanced by a well-curated stock of sound effects and audio. The result is a dynamic and engaging “action” scene that effectively captures the complexity of Wilbert’s quest.

The sound design in Wilbert Wire is exceptional, blending seamlessly with the visual elements to create an immersive experience. The audio choices complement the film’s quirky tone and help to bring Wilbert’s imaginative simulation to life. The continued footage through the credits is a nice touch, adding an extra layer of engagement and continuity to the film.

Josiah’s portrayal of Wilbert Wire is a standout performance, bringing depth and charm to the character. Wilbert is portrayed with both humour and sensitivity, allowing the audience to connect with him on a personal level. The film includes small comedic elements that are well-placed, adding levity without detracting from the emotional core of the story.

While Wilbert Wire is a delightful and inventive short, there are areas where it could benefit from refinement. The bumpy camerawork in the art room can be distracting at times, though this is a minor issue in the context of the film’s overall charm. Additionally, while the use of stereotypes is handled with care, there is an opportunity to further deepen Wilbert’s character beyond the typical traits associated with autism.

Whimsical and heartfelt, Wilbert Wire successfully combines science fiction elements with a family-friendly narrative. Its creative approach to exploring love through the lens of an autistic student is both entertaining and thought-provoking. With standout performances, effective use of colour and sound, and a quirky, engaging storyline, the film offers a refreshing take on emotional expression and acceptance.

The film’s strong visual and auditory elements, combined with its thoughtful character portrayal, make it a memorable viewing experience. As a fun and inventive exploration of a complex theme, Wilbert Wire is a commendable addition to the world of short filmmaking, and it leaves a lasting impression through its unique approach and endearing storytelling.

Day One Hāpai te Haeata provides rangatahi with the tools, guidance and opportunities to share stories on screen.

The entire series of the eight short films premieres at Hollywood Avondale on Tuesday 3rd September, with all films then released online the following day - and socials thereafter. 

View the shorts here

TAUREWAREWA (2024) [DAY ONE SHORTS]

A documentary on bipolar disorder, exploring the highs and lows with a sequence of insightful kōrero framed against the backdrop of Aotearoa’s turbulent oceans.

Taurewarewa, directed by Libby Witherford-Smith, is a poignant and enlightening short documentary that delves into the complexities of bipolar disorder through the stories of three women living with the condition. With a runtime of just 13 minutes, the film provides a powerful exploration of bipolar disorder, framed against the evocative backdrop of Aotearoa’s turbulent oceans.

The documentary is structured around personal narratives, offering viewers a window into the lived experiences of its subjects. Through their stories, Taurewarewa challenges common myths and misinformation surrounding bipolar disorder. The film does an excellent job of breaking down the stigma associated with mental health conditions by presenting real-life accounts of mania, psychosis, depression, and the spectrum of bipolar disorder.

One of the film’s greatest strengths is its ability to humanize its subjects. Rather than reducing them to their diagnoses, Taurewarewa emphasizes that each person is more than their mental health condition. This approach is crucial in fostering a deeper understanding of bipolar disorder as a spectrum, with individuals requiring varying degrees of support at different times. The documentary’s focus on the nuanced and fluctuating nature of bipolar disorder provides an enlightening perspective on the challenges faced by those living with it.

The visual and symbolic elements of the film are notably effective. The recurring imagery of beaches and turbulent water serves as a powerful metaphor for the highs and lows experienced by individuals with bipolar disorder. This imagery not only ties the film together visually but also reinforces the emotional and psychological turbulence depicted in the narratives.

The use of music in the documentary acts as a supportive layer, complementing the imagery and personal stories. While it serves as good filler, it subtly enhances the emotional impact of the film without overshadowing the personal accounts.

However, while Taurewarewa excels in many areas, there are moments where the music and imagery could be better integrated to avoid any potential distractions. The film’s brief runtime also means that some aspects of the stories might feel underexplored, but this is a minor critique given the documentary’s focus on presenting a broad and insightful overview rather than an exhaustive examination.

Taurewarewa is a compelling and heartfelt documentary that successfully sheds light on bipolar disorder through personal narratives and symbolic imagery. By highlighting the individual experiences of its subjects, the film offers valuable insights into the condition while challenging societal misconceptions. It stands out as a significant contribution to the conversation about mental health, demonstrating that understanding and empathy are key to supporting those affected by bipolar disorder.

Day One Hāpai te Haeata provides rangatahi with the tools, guidance and opportunities to share stories on screen.

The entire series of the eight short films premieres at Hollywood Avondale on Tuesday 3rd September, with all films then released online the following day - and socials thereafter. 

View the shorts here

LEMONS (2024) [DAY ONE SHORTS]

A young wahine is given her estranged birth mother’s ashes and whilst figuring out her lost grief, has to figure out what to do with them.

Lemons, directed by India Fremaux and written and produced by Caitlin Fremaux, is an evocative short film that delves into the emotional complexities of grief and family estrangement. With an 11-minute runtime, this indie dramedy presents a powerful narrative through its subtle storytelling and poignant character interactions. Consulting Producer Angela Cudd’s contributions further enhance the film’s depth and authenticity.

The central plot of Lemons revolves around a young wahine who is confronted with her estranged birth mother’s ashes. As she grapples with her unresolved grief, she faces the daunting task of deciding what to do with them. The screenplay is masterfully crafted, employing the "show, don't tell" technique to convey emotional depth. Long periods of silence allow the audience to engage with the characters' actions and mannerisms, such as the nervous fiddling with a coffee mug or avoiding eye contact, which speaks volumes about their internal struggles.

The film’s strength lies in its ability to communicate the awkwardness and hesitancy of the protagonist’s situation without overt exposition. The subtleties of the characters' interactions, coupled with the minimalist dialogue, create a raw and authentic portrayal of personal and familial conflict.

The camera work in Lemons is both stable and deliberate, providing a clear view of the characters while allowing their emotional states to come through naturally. The use of focus and blur is particularly impressive, as it effectively highlights or obscures elements within the frame without disrupting the overall balance of the scene. This technique enhances the film's emotional impact, drawing the audience's attention to the nuances of the characters’ expressions and interactions.

Lighting in the film feels natural, with muted colours that reflect the sombre tone of the narrative. The film's visual style complements its themes, creating a subdued and contemplative atmosphere. The naturalistic lighting and muted colour palette work harmoniously to support the film’s emotional landscape.

Lemons stands out as a distinctly Kiwi film, incorporating elements of local culture that ground the story in its setting. The use of swandrys and breadbags as makeshift plastic bags adds a touch of authenticity and local flavour. Additionally, the film’s exploration of the Te Reo language and Māori tradition adds another layer of cultural richness, enriching the narrative with a sense of place and identity.

There is a minor visual distraction involving the red reflections from an offscreen TV, which alters the colour hue of the actors’ faces in a certain close-up scene. While this is a small issue, it momentarily detracts from the film’s otherwise smooth visual presentation.

The intimacy of Lemons makes it feel like a glimpse into a larger, untold story. The film's exploration of grief and reconciliation is poignant and relatable, and it leaves the audience with a sense of longing to see more of the characters' journeys. The emotional resonance and depth of the narrative suggest that there is much more to be explored beyond the film’s current length.

Lemons is a thoughtfully crafted short film that effectively combines subtle storytelling with strong cinematic techniques. Directed with sensitivity and written with keen insight into human emotion, the film offers a compelling portrayal of grief and familial connection. Its stable camerawork, naturalistic lighting, and cultural nuances create a rich and engaging viewing experience.

The film’s ability to convey deep emotions through minimal dialogue and the effective use of visual techniques underscore its strength. Despite minor distractions, such as the red colour reflections, Lemons succeeds in capturing the essence of its characters and their emotional journey. It leaves viewers with a desire for a longer exploration of the story, highlighting the filmmakers' ability to create a profound and intimate narrative within a brief runtime.

Day One Hāpai te Haeata provides rangatahi with the tools, guidance and opportunities to share stories on screen.

The entire series of the eight short films premieres at Hollywood Avondale on Tuesday 3rd September, with all films then released online the following day - and socials thereafter. 

View the shorts here

HOLY GHOST (2024) [DAY ONE SHORTS]

A queer relationship falls out of sync as one woman loses touch with what is real and what may or may not be coming to her from the divine. 

Holy Ghost, directed by Hannah Lynch and produced by Esaú Allemora, is a striking exploration of mental unravelling and the complexities of a queer relationship under strain. This 12-minute short film blends drama and horror with an artistic flair, leaving viewers questioning the reality of the events unfolding on screen. It’s a film that draws strength from its ambiguity and unsettling atmosphere.

One of the most notable aspects of Holy Ghost is its artistic direction. The film is split into three distinct acts, each marked by a biblical phrase that sets the tone for the events that follow. This structure lends a religious undertone to the narrative, hinting at themes of faith, morality, and divine intervention, but never offering clear answers. The viewer is left to ponder the protagonist’s experiences; spiritual, psychological, real and imagined. This ambiguity is the film's greatest strength, as it creates an intense sense of unease.

Visually, the film draws inspiration from modern horror aesthetics, reminiscent of Midsommar. There’s a creeping discomfort in the way seemingly ordinary scenes are shot. The film opens with soft lighting and serene imagery, but as the protagonist's mental state deteriorates, the tone becomes increasingly unsettling. The contrast between calm and chaos keeps the audience on edge, unsure of what will happen next.

The narrative revolves around a woman who begins to lose touch with reality after missing her medication. This triggers a rapid descent into paranoia and mania, with the line between the divine and the imagined blurring further with each passing moment. The film’s use of various narrative devices—dreams, visions, montages, and shifts between black-and-white and colour imagery—adds layers of complexity to the storytelling.

The pacing of the film accelerates as the protagonist’s grip on reality slips. A series of events unfolds, each one more extreme reaction than the last, swinging the viewer from paranoia to moments of eerie serenity. The film never allows the audience to get comfortable; just when you think you understand what’s happening, it veers in another direction. This unpredictability is central to the film’s effectiveness as a psychological horror.

While Holy Ghost does not offer a clear resolution, this lack of closure is intentional. The story thrives on its uncertainty, and it’s this uncertainty that keeps the audience engaged. You’re never quite sure what’s real, what’s imagined, or what might be the result of divine intervention. The film leaves you questioning, which is precisely where it wants you to be.

The film’s sound design is key to its unnerving atmosphere. Reverberative and dissonant music and sounds are used to great effect, amplifying the sense of unease as the protagonist’s mental state deteriorates. The soundscape is designed to unsettle the viewer, with each jarring noise heightening the tension. Combined with the film’s visual style, the sound design creates an immersive experience that pulls the audience into the protagonist’s disoriented world.

Camera positioning also plays a significant role in building tension. The film frequently adopts the protagonist’s point of view, giving the audience a direct line of sight into her perspective. This makes the film’s more disturbing moments feel even more personal and invasive as if we are witnessing the events through her eyes. The close-up shots, particularly during moments of physical discomfort, such as the gruesome nail cuticle-picking scene, add a visceral quality to the horror.

The performances in Holy Ghost are strong, with the lead actress delivering a compelling portrayal of a woman on the brink of losing control. Her gradual descent into paranoia is believable and emotionally charged, grounding the film’s more surreal elements in a relatable human experience. The dynamic between her and her partner also adds depth to the narrative, exploring the strain that mental health issues can place on a relationship.

Holy Ghost is a promising short film that blends drama and horror with an artistic sensibility. Its strength lies in its ambiguity, creating an unsettling atmosphere that keeps the audience on edge. The film’s use of visual and auditory techniques effectively conveys the protagonist’s deteriorating mental state, while the strong performances add emotional depth to the narrative.

Though the film leaves many questions unanswered, this is part of its charm. It doesn’t seek to provide clear explanations but rather to immerse the viewer in a world of uncertainty and discomfort. Holy Ghost is a haunting and thought-provoking piece that demonstrates the potential of its filmmaker, Hannah Lynch, and leaves the audience eager to see more from her in the future.

Day One Hāpai te Haeata provides rangatahi with the tools, guidance and opportunities to share stories on screen.

The entire series of the eight short films premieres at Hollywood Avondale on Tuesday 3rd September, with all films then released online the following day - and socials thereafter. 

View the shorts here

DETANGLING THE STIGMA (2024) [DAY ONE SHORTS]

A documentary on Jzayla and her’s (and others) relationship with her hair.

Detangling the Stigma, a short documentary directed by Jzayla Marcya and produced by Jennifer Onyeiwu, explores the deeply personal and often painful relationship that Jzayla and others have with their hair. In just under 11 minutes, the film attempts to tackle the intersection of beauty, identity, and systemic racism, focusing on how outdated principles in predominantly Caucasian societies have forced ethnic minorities to conform to a narrow and damaging standard of appearance.

From the outset, Detangling the Stigma is clear and direct in its messaging. Within the first two minutes, the audience is introduced to the core issue: a system built on uniformity, where anything outside the Eurocentric beauty standard is devalued and oppressed. The film succinctly illustrates the impact of this on generations of people, specifically those with Afro-textured hair, who have been forced to straighten or otherwise alter their hair just to conform to institutional norms. Schools and workplaces have often mandated these changes, stripping away the ability of individuals to care for and embrace their natural hair.

The documentary excels at revealing how something as seemingly simple as hair can carry such heavy social and cultural implications. By focusing on personal stories, the film humanises the issue, showing that this is not merely about aesthetics; it's about control, identity, and the long-lasting effects of racial discrimination.

The interviews are the heart of Detangling the Stigma. Emotionally strong and deeply personal, these segments allow the interviewees to share their experiences with both pain and triumph. Jzayla herself is a standout, her confidence and warmth radiating through the screen. Her smile and openness create an immediate connection with the audience, making it easy to empathise with her journey. These moments of vulnerability offer a powerful counter-narrative to the idea that natural hair is something to be hidden or ashamed of. Instead, the film presents natural hair as a source of pride and beauty.

The interview locations are thoughtfully chosen, with great attention paid to lighting and composition. The bright, warm settings mirror the positive emotions that Jzayla and the others express as they speak about embracing their natural hair. This visual warmth contrasts sharply with the cold, institutional environments that have historically demanded conformity.

One notable aspect of the documentary is its mix of current-day interviews and older home video footage. While this juxtaposition can create a sense of personal history and continuity, the drastic difference in picture quality between the two types of footage can be jarring. The grainy, lower-quality home videos stand in stark contrast to the polished interview segments, creating a visual shock that may take some viewers out of the film's otherwise cohesive flow.

Though the home videos show children happy with their natural hair, their inclusion feels somewhat out of place within the film’s broader narrative. It’s unclear what these clips are meant to add beyond reinforcing the positive emotions surrounding natural hair. Without further context or connection to the main storyline, these moments can come across as filler, rather than a meaningful addition to the documentary’s message. It might have been more effective to film additional footage of children today, maintaining a visual consistency while still capturing the joy of embracing natural hair.

Detangling the Stigma tackles a big topic for a short film, and its time constraints inevitably limit the depth it can achieve. While the film touches on the transition from straightened hair to natural Afro-style hair, this is a topic that could have been explored in greater detail. The emotional weight of this transition, and the psychological impact of reclaiming one’s natural appearance after years of conforming to societal expectations, are areas rich with potential that the film begins to explore but doesn’t have the time to fully unpack.

Despite these limitations, the documentary succeeds in its primary goal: encouraging others to embrace their natural hair. While it doesn’t attempt to tackle the systemic issues at the heart of the problem – such as institutional racism or the rigid beauty standards that persist in many parts of society – it makes an important contribution to the ongoing conversation around destigmatisation and acceptance. Simply seeing happy, smiling individuals with Afro-textured hair on screen is a step toward normalising and celebrating natural beauty in mainstream media.

Detangling the Stigma is a well-structured and impactful documentary that brings attention to a significant issue in a short amount of time. Through a mix of interviews, personal stories, and visual elements, the film effectively highlights the long-lasting effects of racism and control over something as personal as hair. While it may leave viewers wanting more in terms of depth and exploration, especially regarding the transition from straightened to natural hair, it serves as an important reminder of the power of self-acceptance and the importance of representation.

Detangling the Stigma is not just about hair; it’s about identity, pride, and reclaiming what has been lost through years of societal pressure. For Jzayla and others like her, embracing natural hair is an act of defiance, a statement of confidence, and a step toward undoing the stigma that has long surrounded Afro-textured hair. In doing so, the film contributes to a much-needed shift in the narrative, one that celebrates diversity and encourages others to do the same.

Day One Hāpai te Haeata provides rangatahi with the tools, guidance and opportunities to share stories on screen.

The entire series of the eight short films premieres at Hollywood Avondale on Tuesday 3rd September, with all films then released online the following day - and socials thereafter. 

View the shorts here

BEHIND THE WHITE WALL (2024) [DAY ONE SHORTS]

A Korean immigrant father working as a painter mentors a new young worker while simultaneously processing emotions of guilt as he awaits the arrival of his family. Exploring the experience of Gireogi. 

Behind the White Wall, directed and written by Seunghoon Sung and produced by Joshua Nicholas Siu, is a poignant short film that offers a heartfelt glimpse into the life of a Korean immigrant painter. With a runtime of 13 minutes, this scripted drama delicately explores the experience of Gireogi—men who work and live alone in a foreign country while supporting their families back home.

The film's narrative is straightforward yet deeply impactful. It centres on a Korean immigrant father who, while mentoring a young new worker, grapples with feelings of guilt and the emotional strain of living apart from his family. The story captures the essence of Gireogi, shedding light on the often-overlooked realities of immigrant labourers who, despite sending remittances back home, endure basic living conditions and prolonged separations from their loved ones.

Behind the White Wall succeeds in conveying the complexity of this experience by focusing on the emotional and psychological dimensions of the characters. It challenges the common misconception that financial success is synonymous with a comfortable life abroad, highlighting instead the sacrifices and loneliness endured by these workers.

One of the film’s most compelling aspects is its exploration of generational trauma brought on by familial separation and the efforts to break this cycle. The protagonist's actions, from his attempts to support a new worker to the genuine care shown by his employer, reflect a desire to foster a supportive community and improve the lives of those around him. This emphasis on mutual support and community spirit is heartwarming, offering a hopeful perspective amidst the struggles of Gireogi life.

Despite its limited setting, Behind the White Wall is visually engaging. The film makes effective use of its two primary locations, employing well-composed shots and thoughtful lighting to create a sense of authenticity and depth. The cinematography captures the essence of the painter’s world, from the dusty work environment to the sparse living quarters, contributing to the film’s immersive experience.

The use of slow-motion imagery serves as a powerful narrative device, allowing key moments to be highlighted without sacrificing runtime. This technique enhances the emotional weight of the story, providing a contemplative pause that deepens the audience's connection to the characters.

Costume and set design are notably well-executed, with attention to detail that adds to the film's realism. The outfits, tools, and personal protective equipment (PPE) are all authentic to the painting profession, further grounding the narrative in its specific context. This level of detail contributes to the film’s overall credibility and immersion.

Ultimately, Behind the White Wall is a film about human connection and the sense of community that forms among workers who are physically separated from their families. It portrays a meaningful journey of support and understanding, illustrating how shared experiences and mutual care can provide solace and strength in challenging circumstances.

Behind the White Wall is a thoughtful and emotionally resonant short film that shines a light on the often-hidden struggles of Gireogi. Through its simple yet profound story, effective visual techniques, and authentic representation of the painting profession, the film offers a moving portrayal of sacrifice, community, and the quest to break free from generational trauma. Seunghoon Sung and Joshua Nicholas Siu have crafted a compelling narrative that invites viewers to reflect on the complexities of immigrant life and the importance of supporting one another.

Day One Hāpai te Haeata provides rangatahi with the tools, guidance and opportunities to share stories on screen.

The entire series of the eight short films premieres at Hollywood Avondale on Tuesday 3rd September, with all films then released online the following day - and socials thereafter. 

View the shorts here

THE UNIVERSAL THEORY (2023) [NZIFF]

The year of 1962. A physics congress in the Alps. An Iranian guest. A mysterious pianist. A bizarre cloud formation in the sky and a booming mystery under the mountain. THE THEORY OF EVERYTHING. A quantum mechanical thriller in black and white.

Timm Kröger’s The Universal Theory is a visually striking and genre-bending film that merges the cinematic sensibilities of the past with modern storytelling. In a fusion of science fiction and film noir, Kröger explores the multiverse, a concept that has gripped contemporary culture. However, Kröger’s approach is less concerned with the mechanics of multiverse theory and more focused on the film’s visual and narrative style, drawing viewers into a surreal experience.

The result is a film that captivates with its atmosphere but can leave audiences feeling detached by the end. Kröger’s blend of aesthetics both enhances the film’s unique tone and muddles its narrative clarity, creating a viewing experience that is equal parts intriguing and perplexing.

The film opens in 1974, where we are introduced to a German television show discussing a controversial book titled The Theory of Everything. The book, central to the plot, delves into the concept of the multiverse—a theory that posits the existence of countless parallel worlds, each representing different outcomes of life’s decisions. The public, however, dismisses the book as mere fiction, ridiculing its claims of being based on reality.

Following this setup, the narrative jumps back twelve years, shifting from colour to an arresting monochrome palette. We are introduced to Johannes (played by Jan Bülow), a young scientist under the mentorship of the rigid Dr. Strathen (Hanns Zischler). Johannes is attending a scientific retreat in the Alps, where the story takes a dramatic turn. The retreat’s main event, a conference led by an Iranian physicist, is unexpectedly cancelled when the physicist fails to arrive. While most of the attending scientists opt to enjoy the luxury hotel and its stunning alpine surroundings, Johannes remains fixated on his doctoral thesis, which revolves around formulating his own grand theory.

However, Johannes’ focus begins to waver as he becomes increasingly distracted by the enigmatic jazz pianist Karin (Olivia Ross) and the flamboyant Professor Blumberg (Gottfried Breitfuss). Both characters seem to be connected to the strange events unfolding at the retreat. Karin, in particular, draws Johannes’ attention, as she appears to possess knowledge about him that she shouldn’t have. As more physicists begin to mysteriously disappear or are found dead, Johannes is drawn deeper into a web of mysteries involving avalanches, bizarre cloud formations, brutal murders, and the possibility of a multiverse portal.

Kröger uses science fiction as the engine for these mysteries, while the noir elements help develop the story and characters. The film’s first act is particularly strong, laying the groundwork for an engaging and suspenseful narrative. It effectively builds intrigue, keeping the audience invested as the plot thickens. However, as the story progresses, the narrative becomes increasingly convoluted. Kröger’s ambition to connect every element of the plot sometimes overwhelms the film’s coherence, resulting in a jumble of ideas that can be difficult to follow.

Despite these narrative challenges, The Universal Theory tackles a range of profound themes, from obsession and alienation to post-war paranoia and existential anxiety. It also touches on the search for connection and the thin line between science and pseudoscience. However, the film’s deliberate pacing can make the experience feel sluggish at times, leaving the audience yearning for a more urgent push to move the plot forward. As more mysteries are introduced, the narrative becomes more complex, and the film risks frustrating the viewer rather than fully engaging them.

While The Universal Theory may not always hold together as tightly as it could, it delivers a fascinating blend of genres. The film is a noir-infused exploration of the multiverse, set against the breathtaking backdrop of the Swiss Alps. Even when the narrative falters, the film offers a visually compelling experience that keeps the viewer engaged.

The score, composed by newcomer Diego Ramos Rodríguez, contributes to the film’s nostalgic feel. His orchestral compositions evoke the grandeur of classic Hollywood cinema, though at times, the music can come across as overpowering. Nevertheless, the score successfully heightens the tension and emotional stakes of the story. Combined with Roland Stuprich’s stunning black-and-white cinematography, the film creates an immersive atmosphere that draws the viewer into its world. Stuprich’s use of Dutch angles and crisp monochrome imagery adds a noirish touch to the film, enhancing the eerie beauty of the snowy landscapes and the shadowy interiors of the hotel.

One of the inherent challenges of multiverse narratives is knowing how to bring them to a satisfying conclusion. In The Universal Theory, Kröger ties up the film’s loose ends, though not always neatly. His ability to create moments of cinematic brilliance is evident, particularly in a climactic scene filled with overwhelming sound and chaos—a sensory onslaught that mirrors an avalanche, threatening to bury both the characters and the audience under its weight.

While the film evokes a sense of classic cinema through its expressive cinematography and lush orchestral score, its measured pacing and somewhat rushed conclusion prevent it from fully realizing its potential. The story builds momentum, but it struggles to sustain it, leading to an ending that feels hurried and emotionally underwhelming.

In terms of performances, Jan Bülow delivers a competent portrayal of Johannes, but his character lacks the depth needed to make him truly engaging. Bülow’s performance doesn’t quite capture the subtle charisma required to fully invest the audience in Johannes’ journey, resulting in a somewhat pedestrian portrayal. Olivia Ross, as Karin, offers a more intriguing presence, though her character remains elusive until the film’s final act. Meanwhile, Breitfuss brings a lively energy to his role, providing some of the film’s more memorable moments.

The film’s Hitchcockian influences are apparent in its narrative style, particularly in the way it builds suspense and tension. The resort setting contributes to a sense of claustrophobia, with much of the action confined within its walls. Karin’s ambiguous role as a femme fatale adds to the film’s noirish atmosphere, leaving Johannes unsure whether she represents his salvation or his downfall.

The first act of The Universal Theory is relatively straightforward, but as the story delves deeper into abstract concepts, Kröger does an admirable job of keeping the audience on board. However, as the film becomes increasingly unmoored from the known laws of physics, it becomes harder to maintain that connection. The final act, in particular, lacks the emotional punch needed to leave a lasting impact.

The Universal Theory is a bold and ambitious film that captivates with its visual style and genre-blending narrative. While it may not always hit the mark, it offers a unique cinematic experience that pays homage to classic film traditions while exploring contemporary themes. Despite its flaws, Kröger’s film is an intriguing addition to the ever-evolving landscape of multiverse cinema.

The Universal Theory is one of 105 films screening as part of the Whānau Mārama New Zealand International Film Festival (NZIFF)

The full programme of 2024 films is outlined here.

Tickets can be booked online at www.nziff.co.nz

TATAMI (2023) [NZIFF]

An Iranian judo champ weighs her principles and ambitions against the safety of her family and herself as government forces threaten violence unless she tows the party line, in this riveting political-sports-thriller.

Tatami, co-directed by Zar Amir Ebrahimi and Guy Nattiv, is a powerful and visually striking film that delves into the intense personal and political struggles of Iranian female judoka Leila, played by Arienne Mandi. The film, set against the backdrop of the World Judo Championships, offers much more than a typical sports narrative; it explores themes of defiance, courage, and the high cost of standing up to oppression. With its raw emotion, dynamic pacing, and bold storytelling, Tatami is a film that resonates deeply with viewers, staying with them long after the credits roll.

The story follows Leila and her coach Maryam, portrayed by Zar Amir Ebrahimi, as they journey to the World Judo Championships with the shared goal of bringing home Iran's first-ever gold medal. Leila, a skilled and determined judoka, is fully focused on her sport, despite the challenges she faces as an athlete from a country with strict ideological rules. One of those rules is a prohibition against competing against Israeli athletes, a potential encounter that looms over Leila’s participation in the tournament.

Midway through the competition, Leila and Maryam receive increasingly ominous threats from the Iranian regime, ordering Leila to fake an injury and withdraw from the tournament to avoid any possible match against an Israeli competitor. This sets up a tense moral dilemma for Leila: Should she comply with the demands of her government, protecting herself and her family from possible harm? Or should she continue to fight, risking everything for a chance at victory and, perhaps more importantly, for her own sense of freedom and agency?

The premise of Tatami echoes real-life events from 2019 when Iranian judoka Saeid Mollaei refused to withdraw from the World Judo Championships despite similar pressures from his government. Mollaei’s defiance led him to seek asylum in Germany, and Iran was subsequently banned from future judo competitions by the International Judo Federation. In Tatami, this real-world political conflict is transformed into a gender-bent fictional narrative, offering a fresh perspective on the struggles faced by Iranian athletes under a repressive regime.

The film’s black-and-white cinematography, helmed by Todd Martin, lends a stark and haunting visual quality to the story. This monochrome palette, paired with long, steady cam shots that follow the protagonists through the winding corridors of the competition venue, creates a sense of claustrophobia and tension that mirrors the oppressive atmosphere in which the characters find themselves. The choice to shoot in black and white also serves to highlight the contrast between light and dark, good and evil, as Leila navigates the complex moral landscape of her situation.

At the same time, the film’s fast-paced editing during the judo matches effectively captures the intensity of the sport. Close-up shots of Leila’s fierce focus, intercut with dynamic movements on the mat, draw the viewer into the action, making them feel every struggle and every victory alongside her. The matches themselves are not just physical confrontations but also symbolic battles against the oppressive forces seeking to control her.

One of Tatami's greatest strengths is its ability to convey the psychological pressure that athletes face, particularly in high-stakes competitions. Much of the film is devoted to exploring how athletes prepare mentally for their matches, and in Leila’s case, how the external threats she faces from her government undermine her ability to stay focused. The stakes in this film are not just about winning a medal; they are about survival and self-determination. Leila must fight not only her opponents on the mat but also her own fears, her coach's increasingly desperate pleas, and the regime's ever-present threats.

Zar Amir Ebrahimi's portrayal of Maryam adds another layer of complexity to the film. As Leila’s coach, Maryam is caught between her loyalty to her athlete and her own precarious situation. She knows that her livelihood is at risk if she cannot control Leila and that her ailing mother’s well-being depends on her compliance with the regime's demands. Maryam's internal struggle is one of the film's most compelling elements, as she hovers between the roles of victim and enforcer, embodying the grey areas that exist within a system of oppression.

Although Tatami is clearly a film about good versus evil, Maryam’s character brings nuance to this dichotomy. While Leila is portrayed as a strong-willed and defiant protagonist, Maryam is more complex, torn between her fear of the regime and her genuine care for Leila. As the film progresses, the audience comes to understand and empathise with Maryam’s difficult position, even as her actions sometimes align with the oppressive forces at play. This moral complexity adds depth to the story, making it more than just a straightforward tale of rebellion.

One area where Tatami departs from expectations is in its depiction of the larger political context. While the film is undeniably political in its portrayal of the Iranian regime's control over its athletes, it does not delve deeply into the broader geopolitical implications of the Israeli-Iranian conflict. Leila and Maryam’s motivations are portrayed as primarily personal, rather than ideological, which may leave some viewers wanting more exploration of the characters' political awareness. However, this focus on the personal over the political serves to humanise the characters, making their struggles feel more relatable and immediate.

Despite this, Tatami effectively captures the frustration and oppression that Iranian athletes face, constantly intimidated by a regime that dictates their every move. The film's depiction of Leila's internal conflict feels both genuine and heartbreaking; torn between her love for her family and her desire to uphold her own values. The audience feels the weight of the pressure on Leila, as well as the fear and anger towards the regime's agents who threaten her and her loved ones.

The film builds to a powerful crescendo as Leila gets closer to the final round of the tournament. The pressure-cooker atmosphere intensifies, with government thugs and her own teammates tightening their grip around her as she fights her way through each match. The dynamic editing keeps the tension high, cutting between multiple viewpoints and creating a sense of urgency that drives the narrative forward.

Tatami is a film about resistance, sacrifice, and the cost of standing up to coercion. It portrays the strength of the human spirit in the face of overwhelming odds, illustrating how one person's defiance can challenge an entire system of control. With its striking visual style, intense storytelling, and complex character dynamics, Tatami stands out as a compelling sports drama that goes beyond the typical genre conventions. It is a film that not only entertains but also provokes thought, leaving a lasting impact on its audience.

Tatami is one of 105 films screening as part of the Whānau Mārama New Zealand International Film Festival (NZIFF)

The full programme of 2024 films is outlined here.

Tickets can be booked online at www.nziff.co.nz

HUMANIST VAMPIRE SEEKING CONSENTING SUICIDAL PERSON (2023) [NZIFF]

A young woman vampire is unable to kill to meet her need for blood, but may have found a solution in a young man with suicidal tendencies.

In a world oversaturated with dark, brooding vampire narratives, Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person emerges as a breath of fresh air. Directed by Ariane Louis-Seize, this film reinvents vampire mythology through a lens of compassion, humour, and teenage angst. It delivers a touching yet comedic coming-of-age story that balances absurdity with realism, making it a stand-out addition to the genre.

At the core of this film is an intriguing premise: a compassionate vampire, Sasha, played brilliantly by Sara Montpetit, is in a moral quandary. Unlike traditional vampires driven by an insatiable hunger for blood, Sasha lacks the instinct to kill. In fact, her vampire fangs only emerge when she feels true hunger, but her compassion for humanity prevents her from feeding. This unique twist on the vampire mythos immediately sets the film apart from its predecessors, creating a character whose internal conflict is both relatable and heart-wrenching.

Sasha's predicament becomes even more complicated when she meets Paul, a suicidal teenager played by Félix-Antoine Bénard. Paul is a victim of bullying and loneliness, whose life has become so bleak that he no longer sees the point in carrying on. The two form an unusual bond, and Paul eventually asks Sasha to kill him, setting the stage for a delicate dance between life and death. The film skillfully weaves this dark subject matter with light-hearted humour, creating a narrative that is both touching and entertaining.

What makes Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person truly special is its ability to explore heavy themes without becoming overbearing. The film addresses issues like bullying, depression, and suicidal ideation with sensitivity and care. It never trivializes these serious topics, yet it manages to infuse them with a sense of hope and humour. This balance is a testament to the skill of director Ariane Louis-Seize, who co-wrote the screenplay with Christine Doyon.

The film’s humour is subtle and often stems from awkward situations rather than outright jokes. This approach allows the audience to engage with the characters on a deeper level, as the humour feels natural and unforced. There is a fine line between comedy and tragedy in this film, and Louis-Seize walks that line masterfully. The laughs are gentle and never overshadow the emotional depth of the story, creating a viewing experience that is both enjoyable and thought-provoking.

One of the film's strengths is its focus on character development. Sasha and Paul are both deeply flawed and relatable characters, whose struggles with their respective identities create a powerful connection between them. Sasha’s internal conflict between her vampire instincts and her moral compass is portrayed with nuance, while Paul’s apathy toward life is a reflection of the pain he has endured. Their unlikely friendship is the heart of the film, and the chemistry between Montpetit and Bénard brings this dynamic to life in a believable and moving way.

Sasha's family, though somewhat in the background, adds another layer to the story. Her parents, played by Steve Laplante and Sophie Cadieux, are traditional vampires who want nothing more than for their daughter to embrace her true nature (her father is the gold standard of a supportive, but overprotective parent). Their dynamic as a family is both humorous and poignant, as they grapple with Sasha’s reluctance to kill. Her mother, in particular, is a standout character, trying to help Sasha find independence while still holding onto the hope that she will eventually accept her vampire instincts. The familial interactions add depth to the narrative, providing moments of levity and warmth amidst the darker themes.

Visually, the film is a treat. The production design, costumes, and lighting choices all work in harmony to create a world that feels lived-in and authentic. The eclectic costuming reflects the film’s unique tone, blending modern teenage fashion with elements of Gothic style that suit the vampire theme. The lighting, too, is carefully considered, with each scene bathed in hues that reflect the emotional undertones of the story. These artistic choices contribute to the film’s overall atmosphere, making it both visually and emotionally engaging.

The film’s exploration of vampire lore is both respectful of tradition and innovative in its approach. It incorporates familiar elements of vampire mythology, such as the need for blood to survive, but it does so in a way that feels fresh. By focusing on the ethical implications of Sasha’s existence—particularly the cost of living at the expense of others—the film offers a new perspective on the vampire narrative. This introspective approach is what sets Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person apart from other entries in the genre.

Sara Montpetit’s performance as Sasha is nothing short of captivating. She embodies the character’s internal struggle with grace and subtlety, conveying a wide range of emotions through her expressions and body language. Whether she is grappling with her desire to live without harming others or navigating her awkward relationship with Paul, Montpetit’s portrayal is both compelling and relatable. Her breakout performance is one of the film’s highlights, adding emotional depth to the narrative.

Félix-Antoine Bénard is equally impressive as Paul. His portrayal of a teenager who has been beaten down by life yet still finds solace in his friendship with Sasha is both heartbreaking and heartwarming. Bénard captures the essence of a character who has given up on life, but whose connection with Sasha reignites a spark of hope, however faint. The chemistry between Montpetit and Bénard is palpable, making their relationship feel genuine and poignant.

Despite its exploration of dark themes, Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person is ultimately a film about compassion and connection. It reminds us that even in the darkest of times, there is always room for kindness and empathy. The film’s delicate handling of these themes, combined with its humour and charm, make it a truly unique viewing experience.

Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person is a refreshing addition to the vampire genre. Its blend of dark humour, teenage drama, and introspective themes creates a narrative that is both entertaining and thought-provoking. The film’s exploration of compassion, identity, and the ethics of life and death resonates on a universal level, making it a story that will stay with audiences long after the credits roll. With standout performances, innovative storytelling, and a perfect balance of humour and emotion, this film is a must-watch for anyone looking for a fresh take on vampire lore.

Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Personis one of 105 films screening as part of the Whānau Mārama New Zealand International Film Festival (NZIFF)

The full programme of 2024 films is outlined here.

Tickets can be booked online at www.nziff.co.nz