As Whānau Mārama: New Zealand International Film Festival 2022 concluded in Tāmaki Makaurau, our writers joined forces for this list of the best of the fest. Now, with the 2023 edition of the festival approaching, revisit our faves and find out where to watch ’em.
Having filed 100-odd reviews during this year’s NZIFF, our team has now chosen the 20 best of the fest—informing your future viewing enjoyment, be it in cinema or on couch…
Reviews are taken from our NZIFF mini-reviews, and include contributions from: Rachel Ashby, Amelia Berry, Matthew Crawley, Adam Fresco, Liam Maguren, Steve Newall, Katie Parker, Amanda Jane Robinson, Tony Stamp, Sarah Thomson and Aaron Yap.
All 2022 mini-reviews:
Latest reviews | A – E | F – L | M – R | S – Z
20. The Territory
Colonialism is captured in real time through this documentary about Brazil’s Indigenous Uru-eu-wau-wau and increasing illegal (but tacitly sanctioned) invasions of their sovereign land—coinciding with the election of Jair Bolsanaro, under whose reign Brazil has accelerated the destruction of Indigenous communities and the Amazon rainforest. It’s inspiring in the face of a chilling existential threat to see this Indigenous community rally with diverse skills and tools—bow and arrow, video cameras and media savvy—to protect their way of life threatened by a ‘Brazilian Dream’ calmly and dispassionately articulated by would-be settlers and farmers. STEVE NEWALL
19. The Humans
Very obviously based on a stage play, this family get-together drama nonetheless justifies its cinematic adaptation. Beyond the superbly controlled performances and big slaps of humour, the film’s use of space (AKA a leaky bum-hole of an apartment) intertwines with underlying feelings not present at the dinner table, framed in a tight and choking manner reminiscent of Florian Zeller’s The Father. It’s meandering, understated, and heavy on dialogue, so avoid it if you can’t stand those things. I bloody love it when it’s done this well though, and especially enjoyed the faint notes of the haunted house genre. LIAM MAGUREN
18. Emily the Criminal
Hello Aubrey Plaza, Serious Actor. This isn’t the Parks & Rec vet’s first dramatic role but it’s her most substantial, a discreetly layered turn powering John Patton Ford’s grungy crime caper. Refreshingly low-stakes and snappy, there’s the odd crackle of generational politics here, but it’s mostly a vehicle for the increasingly frayed performance at its centre. TONY STAMP
17. The Blue Caftan
Filmmaker Maryam Touzani delivers an exquisite display of a rarely explored shade of love and marriage. Saleh Bakri is magnetic on screen—such tenderness in his eyes, such Freddie Mercury in this moustache—aided by another knockout performance by Lubna Azabal (Adam, Touzani’s 2019 NZIFF flick) whose character is just the coolest in a grumpy-aunt-with-a-heart-of-gold sort of way. LIAM MAGUREN
16. Kāinga
Compared to Waru and Vai, this pan-Asian collection of the Aotearoa anthology trilogy feels like the most intimate of the three films. With a single house anchoring the eight stories over decades, and the dynamic definition of ‘home’ admirably explored, that quality is fitting and earned. The filmmakers’ sturdy signatures are evident in the stories they tell and the outfitting of the house—a quietly powerful visualisation of a transforming time and place that slowly creeps in on you. And shout-out to Drew Sturge, whose camera once again helps thread these cinematic snapshots of a criminally underseen New Zealand. LIAM MAGUREN
15. Smoking Causes Coughing
Between its wonky Power Rangers-like team of heroes and their slime-drooling rat boss straight out of Meet the Feebles, offbeat director Quentin Dupieux’s latest might resonate with Kiwis more than he realises. Not to say this isn’t French as all hell, however, a portmanteau pic framed around the famous, world-protecting Tobacco Force that features trademark weirdness, plenty of gore and a healthy serving of comic Gallic disdain before its (too?) abrupt ending. STEVE NEWALL
14. 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
13. The Stranger
Sean Harris has possibly never been more terrifying—which is saying something—than in this utterly bone-chilling Australian thriller. In a departure from typical true-crime narratives, director Thomas M. Wright ensnares us in the psychology, environment and relationships of his characters before weaving in the procedural elements one might have expected to see from the get-go—which pushes this review into no-spoilers territory to preserve the most impact. Suffice to say, The Stranger leaves us as on-edge as the dangerous/endangered men on screen, Harris paired with an on-form Joel Edgerton as Wright holds our grim attention throughout. Hard (if tough going) recommend. STEVE NEWALL
12. Corsage
Once draped and pinned into fabric in Paul Thomas Anderson’s Phantom Thread, here the incredible Vicky Krieps is violently laced into the corset (or ‘corsage’) of writer/director Marie Kreutzer’s revisionist portrayal of the famously eccentric Empress Elisabeth of Austria. A lavish production, Corsage thrums with its core performance—Krieps’ magnetic Elisabeth prompting rumination upon loss, responsibility, nihilism, aging, and the particularly gendered tension of ‘staying in one’s lane’. Beautiful. SARAH THOMSON
11. Flux Gourmet
Combining a very English brand of surrealism with full-noise psychosexual giallo camp, Flux Gourmet follows a troupe of culinary sound artists and the gastrointestinally-distressed journalist documenting their latest residency. Absurd, scatological, and laugh-out-loud funny, Peter Strickland’s latest outing somehow manages to double as the most telling exploration of “being in a band” since Some Like It Hot. AMELIA BERRY
10. Return to Seoul
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
9. Speak No Evil
The gnawing cognitive dissonance of the upper-middle classes goes on holiday here, in a truly uncomfortable film about privilege, performance, and fear. Anchored by four outstanding performances (Morten Burian & Sidsel Siem Koch; Fedja van Huêt & Karina Smulders), non-Euro-continent audiences may lose some of the contextual subtleties in the script, but none of the film’s woozy slow-building terror. The less you know going in, the better. Then, afterwards, how ’bout you take a good long look in the mirror? SARAH THOMSON
8. Triangle of Sadness
A gleeful takedown of the uber-wealthy, Force Majeure director Ruben Östlund’s latest plays out something like Carry On Capitalism. Hinging on an explosively lavatorial set-piece that is equal parts disgusting, cathartic, and hilarious, and with a magnetic performance from Woody Harrelson as the Marxist captain of a luxury yacht, ultimately, your enjoyment of Triangle of Sadness is going to come down to whether you find its bitter conclusions on human nature to be incisively satirical or just glibly nihilistic. AMELIA BERRY
7. Decision to Leave
At this point Park Chan-wook’s control of his images is borderline supernatural, storming through another Hitchcockian thriller in a hail of match cuts, masterful wide shots, digital zooms and segues and on and on. At one point I marvelled at how much a wallpaper pattern spoke to the director’s personality, and by extent his characters. They too are meticulous and attentive, whether applying chapstick or connecting murder cases years apart. A neo-noir blast. TONY STAMP
6. Stars at Noon
Claire Denis’ COVID-era thriller might be set in pandemic-era Nicaragua, but could really be any place and time once-privileged outsiders/white guys in linen suits have gotten down on their luck or on the wrong sides of autocratic military regimes. Yes, it’s all a bit familiar, but Margaret Qualley is as electric as she is desperate, her chemistry with Joe Alwyn is solid, and Stars sells all the sweatiness (tropical, carnal, panicky) it needs to work… as kind of a steamy hangout thriller? STEVE NEWALL
5. Sick of Myself
Featuring two of the foulest characters you will see on-screen this year, Kristoffer Borgli’s venomously funny sickie takes the toxic culture of media-obsessed self-absorption into compellingly cringey extremes. Almost horrifically ruthless—it’s perhaps the most repulsive non-horror body horror comedy since Wetlands. But we still laugh because under every retch-inducing moment the film hurls at us, we recognize the awful humanity of it all. AARON YAP
4. Fire of Love
Unbelievable close-up footage of live volcanoes and, honestly, edible-looking magma (I can’t be the only one thinking this). The footage is all shot by the eccentric and charming volcanologist couple Katia and Maurice Kraff and it absolutely deserves to be seen on the biggest screen you can get to. Their love of the volatile natural world is infectious and it’s hard not to get swept along in their enthusiasm. Miranda July as the dreamy narrator is a treat and the score is beautiful. Could the narrative have been tighter? Yes—but that’s not the reason you’re coming to see this one. RACHEL ASHBY
3. Marcel the Shell with Shoes On
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
2. Muru
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
1. Godland
Good grief, it seems that once in a blue moon they do make them like they used to. Godland came boldly compared to classic era Herzog, and while that’s a huge call, this film truly does live up to that niche hype. With a touch of the Kelly Reichardt school of slow burning, gentle dread mixed with 2014 NZIFF favourite Jauja’s eye-popping landscape capturing, this tale of a single-minded mission by a photography-loving Danish priest in 19th century Iceland is one I’ll be raving about annoyingly for years. MATTHEW CRAWLEY
