★★★☆
A Hollywood director returns to his roots, and to the stories that defined a nation, in this tale of bitter family rivalry, the passion of the young, and the vicious sting of the past.
Simeon Mahana (Akuhata Keefe) is full of questions, but his inquisitiveness puts him at odds with his stern grandfather, Tamihana (Temuera Morrison), the patriarch of their sheep-shearing family. As Simeon develops affection for the daughter of the Mahana’s bitter rivals, the Poata family, Tamihana’s rage threatens to tear the family apart.
For director Lee Tamahori, Mahana is a welcome return to the form shown in his classic debut Once Were Warriors, another film revolving around Temuera Morrison as a violent Māori patriarch. Both have refined their craft and brought subtlety to bear – considering Tamahori’s recent CV, that’s no small task.
The director’s insight into Māori culture and gesture imbues the film with more power than John Collee’s screenplay (based on a novel by Whale Rider writer Witi Ihimaera) possesses on its own. Their language is not subtitled, but contextualised, and the hongi – a greeting in which breath is exchanged – infuses key moments with enormous emotional resonance.
While the rivalry between the Mahanas and the Poatas seems central, it’s secondary to Simeon’s coming of age, yet a profoundly impactful part of it. The Mahana matriarch, Ramona (played with stunning strength and integrity by Nancy Brunning) holds the secrets to the rivalry between Tamihana and the Poata head Rupeni (Jim Moriarty), and it goes far beyond the shearing shed.
The Mahanas occupy sizable lands in rural New Zealand, and cinematographer Ginny Loane captures them in saturated tones and painterly landscapes. But despite the evocative geography, Tamahori is less adventurous with capturing it than in his debut, favouring effective coverage over innovative framing. His focus drifts, and the narrative unspools at its own ungainly rate.
Mahana is first and foremost an actor’s film, and newcomers like Keefe and Yvonne Porter prove themselves worthy of their lofty companions. In a trite but affecting scene in a courtroom, Simeon addresses the systemic oppression of his people with uncommon presence. The film does not linger on Māori rights in the 1960s, but uses it to frame the culture. Once Were Warriors focused on the hangover of tribalism among the disenfranchised; Mahana is more nuanced still, its antagonists both worthier and more villainous.
Tamahori’s return to home shores is a welcome change of pace, and one that proves him both an actor’s director and a powerful conduit for Māori culture.
Mahanaopens in limited release on Thursday December 8.
