Hold the phone: our NZIFF 2024 mini-reviews keep coming…
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 – check out what we’re watching, and keep checking this page for the latest mini-reviews, updated throughout the festival.
All 2024 mini-reviews:
Latest reviews | A-G | H-O | P-Z
The Substance
Shiny celeb-satire body horror shot through with a knowing female savagery, Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance doesn’t quite stake a claim to a spot in the cult film pantheon that houses her references (Cronenberg, Yuzna, Gordon etc). But the performances are strong, the tone is engaging, and boy did its many, many leering shots of Margaret Qualley’s physique make nearby audience members a little uncomfortable. (One also strangely muttered “that’s gonna smell” when the camera lingered on a bowl of prawn carcasses left by a delightfully vile Dennis Quaid—if you’d like to know more about my trip to the movies, yes it contained an inevitable shush). At its heart, a cool turn by Demi Moore, bringing a resonance to the role of an ageing-out star—imagine that shot through with a spattering of gore, and in the style of Benny Benassi’s Satisfaction vid, and you’re on the right track. STEVE NEWALL
We Were Dangerous
What a great pick to be championed at the opening night of the NZIFF. For fans of teen rebellion, movies set on islands and Rima Te Wiata (isn’t everyone?). A surprisingly joyful, twisty story carried by its three sensational young leads, We Were Dangerous caught me off guard with its uplifting, optimistic ending. Fingers crossed for a sequel (We’re Still Dangerous) which picks up immediately after this one. CALLUM DEVLIN
Janet Planet
For the majority of the film, Janet Planet holds strictly to the perspective of its 11-year-old protagonist. It moves slowly, painting a detailed portrait of a mother and daughter and the people that drift through their lives. Has the quality of a world that has always existed, discovered by the filmmakers totally intact and just put up onto the cinema screen. CALLUM DEVLIN
The Sweet East
A surprisingly tasteful double feature with Janet Planet, both films are 16mm adventures, literally and intellectually. Plays a bit like a zoomer take on Poor Things, a stoner coming of age fairy tale bumping up against the chaotic characters of America’s east coast. It totally held me right up until its abrupt ending. Left me feeling like I’d lived an entire life. Excited to rewatch. CALLUM DEVLIN
Tatami
This loosely-based-on-history tale of an Iranian woman instructed by her government to drop out of her international judo competition is certainly gripping in the moment, but ends up feeling subtly simplistic. Certainly, it is resplendent in the best kind of black and white, with brilliant cinematography, and formidable work from leads Arienne Mandi and Zar Amir Ebrahimi, but its message can wind up feeling a bit blunt (“Iran bad”) without much context behind the politics at play. MATTHEW CRAWLEY
Ryuichi Sakamoto | Opus
This breathtakingly intimate final performance from a true master of modern music absolutely deserves to be seen on a big screen. Sit as far away from anyone else as you can to avoid the rustle of Maltesers interfering with your soul’s journey as Sakamoto sits at his piano one last time to perform songs from across his astonishing career. You’d be hard pressed not to crumble somewhat witnessing his occasional moments of obvious struggle, but—ultimately—watching this human being engage with his divine craft at the very end of his life is a very special privilege indeed. MATTHEW CRAWLEY
Flow
Latvian animation has entered the chat! It’s Milo and Otis meets Noah’s Dinghy, with a truly unique animation style and approach to storytelling. In this wordless wonder, a black cat, a dozy capybara, a big ol’ doggy, a materialistic lemur and a giant mystic secretary bird are thrown together and forced to navigate an apocalyptic flood. An animation that doesn’t inexplicably feature the voice of Chris Pratt, or anyone? Yes! It’s incredible! MATTHEW CRAWLEY
A Different Man
Actor, Edward, has a craniofacial condition, so can’t get work in a Hollywood focused on traditional looks. Still, his neighbour, the writer Ingrid (Reinate Reinsve) is kind to him. But when surgery transforms Edward into Sebastian Stan, his inner ugliness is revealed. Enter the confident and upbeat Oswald, (Adam Pearson, the Under the Skin actor who really does have a craniofacial condition), threatening Edward’s new life. Aaron Schimberg’s darkly funny parable of the masks we all wear is substantially lifted by a performance from Pearson who enters stage left, and steals the show in a bravura performance with Best Supporting Actor written all over it. ADAM FRESCO
Peeping Tom
Michael Powell’s 1960 masterclass in voyeurism was released the same year as Hitchcock’s classic Psycho, but received none of the love until it was rediscovered much later. Now a stone-cold serial-killer-with-a-camera classic, Peeping Tom looks great on the big festival screen, and still packs a disturbing punch thanks to Powell’s incisive direction, and lead actor Karlheinz Böhm’s mesmerizing portrayal of a photographer turned sociopath, in a film that implicates the viewer in its cinematic violence. ADAM FRESCO
Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story
Christopher Reeve flew to fame in the 1978 movie blockbuster Superman, the poster for which proclaimed: “You’ll believe a man can fly.” And fly Reeves did, straight into the hearts of a generation. When a riding accident left him paralyzed from the neck down, breathing via a ventilator, Reeves became an advocate and activist. This documentary shines a light on Reeves the man, the screen icon, and his real-life fight. There are some pacing issues and a few way too on-the-nose musical cues, in a tale that doesn’t need to yank at our heartstrings because the truth already hurts, but for those new to Reeves, this is a great introduction with an enlightening array of contributions from Reeves’ family, friends, and colleagues. ADAM FRESCO
The Haka Party Incident
An incredibly illuminating examination of a moment in time that says so much about Māori-Pākehā relations/tensions over the past 50 years. The Māori activists interviewed provide insightful (often funny, sometimes contradictory) accounts of the titular incident while the perpetrating engineering students dish out some invaluable reflections on their actions—some defending themselves, most acknowledging the ignorance of receiving the baton of a racist tradition. There’s anger to be felt about the injustice of the situation, but also a significant feeling of hope seeing everyone (aside from one guy) using this history as a means to learn and grow. LIAM MAGUREN
Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story
Certified tear duct-wrecker #2. HBO Documentary Films has a pretty good track record for delivering dense, dynamic docos and this one’s no different. You’ll feel the pain of what Christopher Reeve lost, the love that got him through his darkest times, some of the dirt that comes with being the son of a pretentious asshat, and an almost overwhelming sense of admiration for how Reeve transferred his visibility as Superman to a community that really needed it. Recommended. LIAM MAGUREN
Taki Rua Theatre – Breaking Barriers
I’m no stage scholar, so this doco on the titular Māori theatre group made for a worthwhile watch. On the production side, this feels likely to head straight to streaming, which wouldn’t be a bad thing as I’d imagine it’d make the film more accessible. Perhaps it’s unfortunate that I watched this not long after The Haka Party Incident, which touches on some of Taki Rua Theatre’s bigger social themes in much greater depths. But as a biography, filmmaker Whetū Fala delivers the goods, and I appreciate how she dedicates ample time for recreated performances. LIAM MAGUREN
New Zealand’s Best 2024
Full disclosure: I was one of the three jury members tasked with nominating the big awards for the five local shorts selected by Gerard Johnstone. (Shout outs to my fellow jurors Philippa Campbell and Judah Finnigan, who were incredible people to talk about films with.) It’s perhaps the biggest compliment to say that judging these films was both a privilege and a total brain-basher, as they all gave us so much to deconstruct and reflect upon. LIAM MAGUREN
Short Connections
While you can see why these films didn’t make NZ’s Best—tonal wobbles, pacing issues, production limitations, script shortcomings, yada yada yada—this collection does offer a wider variety of locally-made shorts. My crowd seemed to really dig Mia Blake’s welfare black comedy Payback, Jamie Lawrence conjures a handsome production with intimate fantasy tale Earthlings, Adi Parige’s NZ-India co-pro The Lascar offers a pretty neat slab of Aotearoa historical fiction, and it was great to see director Alyx Duncan return for another puppetry-driven drama. I didn’t quite get Lost at Sea, a sombrely slow and slickly shot “portrait of grief” by Asuka Sylvie, but that’s probably on me. LIAM MAGUREN
Grafted
Despite a fantastic opening and grisly ending, this unique take on the body horror genre felt like it pulled too many of its thematic punches to fully capitalise on the inspired setup. For me, the Mean Girls trio of bullies leaned too heavily on cliché, diluting the drama surrounding the lead’s troubles of fitting into a new country. Fortunately, the actors elevate the flawed material and there’s a verve to Sasha Rainbow’s direction that help make it a fun enough ride. Much respect to the sound designers and practical effects artist who, with their powers combined, maximise all the “ew yuck” moments. LIAM MAGUREN
Kneecap
Despite being pretty tired by the time I got to this Friday night screening, this absolute party of a film jolted me back to life like a cocaine-dusted slap in the face. A hip-hop biopic with punk in its veins (along with other substances), filmmaker Rich Peppiatt goes full steam ahead though its story of rap as a means of contributing to the preservation of the Irish language. Naoise Ó Cairealláin isn’t quite as natural on-screen as his bandmates Liam Óg Ó Hannaidh or JJ Ó Dochartaigh, but that’s really the only big negative note I’ve got. This film rules. LIAM MAGUREN
Anguish
This ruled to see in a cinema, Hollywood Avondale the perfect place for a 35mm screening of Bigas Luna’s 1987 horror. As the film unfolds and its structure becomes apparent, we were on the edge of our seats (when moviegoers weren’t contributing to the tension with every creaking footstep to replenish refreshments or hit the bathroom—hey, it was an 11pm screening, and when did anything bad ever happen to someone popping out during a movie?). Anguish‘s swerves and reveals worked a treat up there on the big screen, you’d be missing a trick to watch at home, sadly. STEVE NEWALL
Soundtrack to a Coup d’Etat
If you’re going into this doco based on the lure of some amazing archival footage of America’s finest Black jazz players, you’ll get what you’re looking for… You’ll also learn in shocking detail about a chapter in African history that throws a stark light on both Belgium and America’s involvement in assassination, puppet master politics, and untold amounts of civilian death, not to mention the outrageous use of said Black jazz legends as unwitting fronts for their more devious designs. Steel yourself, then go educate yourself, with this masterful and important documentary, packed with unbelievable twists and turns that would make Shyamalan give up his day job. MATTHEW CRAWLEY
Problemista
I went into Problemista having just walked around Queen Street for an hour looking for signs of life (or decent food) amongst the roadworks and shuttered shops, feeling a little in need of a good daydream, and 104 minutes later I walked out spotting magic between the cracks, even in the perilous short walk through the ghost food court of the IMAX lobby that leads to the Civic carpark. Writer, director, and star Julio Torres (Fantasmas) is clearly here to rescue us from ourselves, and together with a top-form Tilda Swinton has created a film with its head in the clouds that’s serving the same kind of tickled wonder (with just enough melancholy) that Michel Gondry’s best moments did. See this, see this! MATTHEW CRAWLEY
Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person
This French teen vampire black comedy lovingly collages together several ideas from wonderful films and shows that have preceded it; Let The Right One In, Wednesday, What We Do In The Shadows, and plenty more, to create something of a sweet gateway drug for the next generation. It’s a kind of Lil’ Only Lovers Left Alive, complete with killer soundtrack that’s gifted me a few new favourites. Sweeter than shocking, but with enough fresh blood in its veins to make it charming and worthwhile. MATTHEW CRAWLEY
The Seed of the Sacred Fig
In the mix for this insightful portrait of Iran: domestic drama, generation gap, autocratic excesses, tense thriller, and a bit of horror (in the grounded and scary, rather than supernatural, sense). Set at the time of everyday Iranian woman Mahsa Amini’s death at the hands of the country’s morality police, unrest is sweeping the country at the same time as a father of two gets a promotion to investigating judge—and soon prompted to rubber-stamp executions. His teen daughters crave freer lives, sympathising with a growing protest movement—their mother has her own conflicted POV. Stakes escalate dramatically inside their home and outside, excellent performances and pacing making this an enthralling watch (even at 168 mins). STEVE NEWALL
Kneecap
A frothy, highly fictionalised biography of the Irish rappers who held a finger up to the establishment, rapping in the Irish language, and never shying away from the complex history and politics of British imperialism. Despite Michael Fassbender popping in briefly, It can’t avoid music-biopic cliché and soon runs out of steam. The tracksuited central trio of original band members play themselves with charm, but the clunky drama ultimately fails to live up to the vitality of the band’s music. ADAM FRESCO
The Teachers Lounge
This German drama centres on a nerve-jangling performance by Leonie Benesch as Carla, a teacher investigating a student accused of theft. The narrative twists, turns, and tightens into a powerful parable for modern society and personal politics. Reminiscent of classic stage play (and movie) The Winslow Boy, rarely has false accusation felt so confrontational than in this taut and thoughtful drama. ADAM FRESCO
Eno
A movie that is never the same, always unique, in every screening becoming a brand-new film. Movie biopic as mosaic, this self-generating documentary draws from thousands of hours of interviews and clips to randomly produce a guaranteed one-off at every screening. Gary Hustwit’s film doesn’t just honour the creative genius of eclectic musician Brian Eno, it replicates his dazzling experimental array. Entertaining, witty, and always engaging, it’s a standout festival must-see. ADAM FRESCO
Black Dog
Guan Hu’s script is almost Coen-like in its construction—a series of setups involving an upcoming Olympics, an approaching eclipse, a lone wolf, an imprisoned tiger, an unachieved motorcycle jump and so on—with plenty of the brothers’ wry humour as well, and less socio-economic commentary than you may expect (although it’s implicitly there in the margins). Mostly though this is a story about a very good boy and his human friend, which includes several dozen how-the-fuck-did-they-do-that scenes involving animals. TONY STAMP
Cuckoo
Lots to enjoy here, particularly Dan Stevens’ gently unhinged performance, (and flute), intriguing character design, and loads of gauzy retro atmosphere from director Tilman Singer. The setup and eventual reveal are agreeably gonzo, so it’s a pity the film’s denouement lets the air out slightly, but this is still a very fun watch. TONY STAMP
All 2024 mini-reviews:
Latest reviews | A-G | H-O | P-Z