Collaborative Spirits in Film
It might be a bit wanky to say so, but I reckon to make a feature film is one of the great human endeavours. Apart from the sheer hard work of it all, to somehow capture truth is a mighty task in itself. To tell tales is a primal thing. To share that story via big pictures and big sound can move the mind, warm the heart, and churn the gut. Going to the pictures is a modern ritual of social connection.
A great film is a precious thing: be it humble or epic, funny or dramatic, or scary as shit. Each of us has personal movie moments that shape us, more than we perhaps know.
To actually make a movie is no small feat. This bleedingly obvious point was brought home to me during one week in October when I attended two fabulous film hui in two countries. The first was the Big Screen Symposium held in Auckland, the second was the ImagineNATIVE Film Festival in Toronto. The two events focused in different ways on the manifold elements that can drag or propel a film idea from conception to exhibition.
The Auckland hui had a great turnout of experienced and new filmmakers. Over 500 of us were in a positive mood to appreciate the presence of each other, and some very fine guests indeed. From the welcome to the final karakia, there were many pertinent events and forums. They were characterised with immense honesty from all participants. This gave heft to a good range of terrific addresses and discussions. The guest speakers were uniformly fabulous. Smart producers and inspiring creatives from home and abroad launched pearler after pearler, and we lapped it up.
Jon Landau the ultimate Hollywood uber producer wowed me with his smart insightful shtick. Jane Campion, our own uber director, wowed me with insights into her intuitive self. Aussie actor Rachel Griffiths wowed everyone in the house as she bared herself with such knowing wit. All the hui’s speakers gave memorable insights into the theme of the event – strengthening our collaborative spirit.
To make a film requires intense collaboration. And in an industry where ego is both rampant and pretty damned necessary to work as a team requires cunning planning, impeccable timing, and occasional evasive action.
Whether in scripting or casting or looking for finance, I’ve come to believe it’s not who you know, but who knows you.
The BSS covered important craft areas, as well as the practical challenges of packaging and marketing films. It was a well-organised event with an easy and eager atmosphere. An awful lot of meetings took place too. It’s always cool to have so many of us in one place. We can ‘reach out’ energised by our film dreams, whilst lubricated with coffee and something to say.
One of the most compelling sessions for me was about the growing global network of indigenous filmmakers. Briar Grace-Smith, Libby Hakaraia and Chelsea Winstanley made a strong case for the inevitable rise and rise of native film storytelling. A new tide of cinema talent was clearly evident at my next hui the following week, in Toronto.
The ImagineNATIVE festival is an annual celebration of the best of indigenous film from around the planet. This is the 16th year of the festival, and the kaupapa of this branch of world cinema reached new heights. The screenings gave native perspectives on pretty much everything life can fling at us: a celebration then, of tragedy and humour and everything in between.
Filmmakers from the Americas, Canada, Sapmi, The Arctic Circle, Australia, and New Zealand gathered in Toronto to screen work and make plans for the future. There was a strong Maori and Polynesian presence at the festival. I was there with The Dead Lands, Rene Naufahu and his lead cast presented The Last Saint, Christina Milligan and Kim Webby showed The Price of Peace. Riwia Brown, Karin Williams, Mike Jonathon, Lisa Reihana, Mika, and Nikki Si’ulepa showed their own short films. (Lisa, Christina, and Kim were awards winners with best short, and best documentary respectively. Wu-hu-! E mihi ana e nga- tua-hine.)
The breadth of human experiences and situations that we see in the work of the current generation of indigenous filmmakers does not surprise me. It is natural that as these children of many tribes acquire skills, they concentrate on matters of identity and justice.
Maori filmmakers have done that, and do it still. We’ve also branched out into other areas of film storytelling. If we want to do genre, or art house, or archival, or kaupapa tu-turu, we can. The time for labels and categories has passed, and indigenous work can be anything it wants to be.
Filmmakers everywhere face challenges in common to get our work on screen. The forthcoming new era of film with all its digital seductions will require new approaches and processes. Many of us believe that our indigenous perspectives will open up new enduring collaborations with each other, and with our audiences.
I have attended indigenous film festivals more often over recent years. There is fertile growth among us. I feel very much part of an expanding family of cinema storytellers. We are all linked in some way through a common view of our place between earth and sky. We all have a loyalty to the spirit world from whence we come. We believe in our individual and collective power.
It is in the nature of being a filmmaker that the act of struggle is a part of what you do. Indigenous peoples are well acquainted with their own cultural and social struggles for survival. To cope with struggle is a chance to test your mettle and get good at the game.
The Big Screen Symposium presented the reality and potential of the current Kiwi filmmaking world. A very new cinema era is just over the horizon. The ImagineNATIVE Film Festival showed us that we now have access to a vibrant and new, yet old approach to reach audiences with the stories we need to tell.
When we go to these hui and when we are moved by the spirit of it all, it seems to me to be a healing thing. To feel affirmed despite the grind of your daily labours, and to be inspired once again by people and work you can respect, well, I reckon that’s just got to be good for you.
Ehara taku toa i te toa takitahi, engari ia he toa takimano. Mauriora ki a ta-tou.
