Haane Manahi DCM of B Company, 28th Maori Battalion, whose remarkable bravery was crucial in the 1943 battle for Takrouna's fortified summit in Tunisia.
Tearepa Kahi’s Sgt. Haane arrives as a rare and deeply significant addition to Aotearoa’s cinematic landscape. It is a World War II story told not from the distant vantage point of empire, but from the lived experience of Māori soldiers whose courage has echoed through generations.
At its centre is Lance Sergeant Haane Manahi of Te Arawa and Ngāti Raukawa, a man whose actions at Takrouna in 1943 were so extraordinary that multiple Allied generals recommended him for the Victoria Cross. That recommendation was later reduced without explanation, a historical injustice that has long lingered in the memories of his descendants. Kahi’s film, however, is not a retelling of grievance. It is a reclamation of legacy, a celebration of whakapapa, and an attempt to bring a story long held within whānau into the public consciousness.
The film takes an unconventional approach to its subject matter, weaving together dramatic re-enactments, archival research, and interviews with descendants of the 28th Māori Battalion. This structure reflects a distinctly Māori way of storytelling, where the past is not sealed away but remains in constant dialogue with the present. Voices of mokopuna sit alongside depictions of their tīpuna, creating a sense of continuity that honours the intergenerational nature of remembrance. It is a thoughtful and culturally grounded choice that reinforces the idea that history is not static but lived and carried.
At the same time, this approach shapes the film’s rhythm. The narrative frequently shifts between eras, moving from the heat of battle to reflective commentary and back again. While this reinforces the film’s kaupapa, it occasionally softens the dramatic tension of the wartime sequences. The ascent of Takrouna, an almost vertical limestone cliff defended by hundreds of enemy soldiers, is one of the most astonishing feats of the North African campaign. Yet the film often describes the scale of the challenge more than it visually immerses the audience in it. The re-enactments are compelling, but they are brief, and the constant return to present-day reflection sometimes interrupts the emotional momentum that the battle scenes begin to build.
This is not a failure of intent but a limitation of scope. Sgt. Haane is not a Hollywood war epic with vast budgets and sweeping battlefield choreography. Instead, it is a film that prioritises connection over spectacle. The soldiers who climbed Takrouna were cousins, all descendants of Ngāti Whakaue from Ōhinemutu. Their bond is central to the story, and Kahi foregrounds this relational aspect throughout. The performances from Alex Tarrant, Niwa Whatuira, and Vinnie Bennett are grounded and sincere, capturing the quiet determination of men who understood both the danger ahead and the responsibility they carried for one another.
Still, there are moments where the film feels as though it is holding back. The audience is told of the overwhelming enemy presence, the heavy artillery, and the near impossibility of the mission, but these elements are only lightly depicted on screen. As a result, viewers unfamiliar with the historical context may not fully grasp the magnitude of what Manahi and his men achieved. The story is extraordinary, almost unbelievable in its bravery, and there are times when the film’s restraint risks making it feel less immediate than it truly was.
Yet the emotional power of the story remains undeniable. One of the film’s most affecting threads is the discovery of Nizar Chhoubi, the last remaining resident of Takrouna, whose family was protected by Manahi during the battle. This connection across cultures and continents reinforces the film’s central theme: that this is not simply a story of war, but of humanity. Manahi was not only a soldier. He was a protector, a leader, and a man whose decisions saved lives beyond the battlefield.
The interviews with descendants add further depth. Their voices carry pride, sorrow, humour, and a sense of duty to keep these stories alive. For those who grew up hearing about Takrouna, the film is a long-awaited acknowledgement. For newcomers, it is an introduction to a chapter of history that deserves far wider recognition. The blend of perspectives creates a tapestry of memory that feels authentic and heartfelt.
Where the film excels most is in its intention. Kahi is not interested in revisiting the controversy of the downgraded Victoria Cross. Instead, he seeks to restore the mana of Haane Manahi by focusing on what truly matters: the courage he showed, the lives he saved, and the legacy he left behind. The film positions him not as a figure defined by bureaucratic injustice, but as a hero whose actions speak louder than any medal.
In the end, Sgt. Haane is a film of immense cultural value. It may not deliver the scale or intensity of a large budget war epic, but it offers something far more meaningful. It provides a Māori-centred retelling of one of the most remarkable acts of bravery in New Zealand’s military history. It honours the men of B Company, acknowledges the whānau who have carried this story for decades, and invites the wider public to understand the depth of their sacrifice and connection.
Most importantly, it ensures that Haane Manahi’s story, once held quietly within families, now has a place on the silver screen, where it can be seen, remembered, and passed on.
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