Remembering Ardy Matthews

1999 - Three Foot Six | Transport Manager and On-set Co-ordinator | THE LORD OF THE RINGS

This is the first proper film role on our Dads CV.

Starting out as a swing driver (‘The Big Bertha days) Dad quickly gained recognition and was invited to interview for a full-time role. I remember the day clearly, while Dad went to Stone Street; Miramar, my Mum, sisters, and I waited in anticipation. From that day on, Dad's absolute love, dedication, and enthusiasm for the film industry grew exponentially.

His Film career spanned 23 years (1999 to 2022) and with almost 55 shoots of various kinds under his belt, the industry never failed to bring a level of excitement to his life that was genuinely contagious.

Since his passing, one of the common themes of conversation has been how much success he had and enjoyment he got in making connections with people from all walks of life. Being a filmo genuinely complimented that part of him.

Film Colleagues quickly became mates and soon after, those mates were otherwise known as our extended family. Many of you now form part of our round-table jokes, celebrations, and family tales.

With bonds formed and trust earned, Dad then trusted his film family with his home life family. Our Mum (the late Carol Matthews) and all three of his children/us (Kelly, Jenna, and Laura: a.k.a his sons!) were fortunate to work alongside him on feature films. He would comment that to have each of our names appear next to his on the credits of one job or another was an absolute career highlight for him.

But, even though he was a Transport Captain, it didn’t matter to Dad where you came from or where you were going, it did matter though how you made people feel - and for Dad, he always wanted to help make your life that little bit easier... that little bit 'more'; It was the well-placed cables to stop you tripping, Him arriving to set that just that little bit earlier to put all the heaters on so the makeup or costume crew were warm, getting repairs on your personal car done while you were on set, making sure you had a safe way home after the Friday-fives draw or setting up A-listers with true Kiwi experiences on the back of his Harley - If he could do it, he would, Happily.

It made him nervous to think he might let someone down or bugger it up. So much so that the night before his first day of pre-production, and the night for Day-1 Shoot for every film job he worked on, he couldn’t sleep.

He simply wanted to do a good job and not let the people down that had founded the life he loved living.

Laura

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Ardy often used to cheerily say, “Every day above ground is a good day.” When I heard the devastating news of his unexpected passing in Fiji on 2 September, to say it was not a good day is an absolute understatement.

I don’t remember exactly when I met Ardy, but I do remember his hearty laugh, Akubra hat, and gentle enquiry instantly put me at ease and made it feel like I had known him for years. He quickly became a treasured friend. I would later learn he was incredibly loyal, someone who would look out for you and be there at the drop of an Akubra hat if you ever needed.

On set, Ardy worked hard and made any production he was on run smoothly by weaving his magic behind the scenes with the support of his staunchly loyal transport crew who always came through for him. And he looked after them. I recall more than a few boil-ups on the go in the production office or the transport house. That was Ardy – manaaki hard. He brought the good vibes.

At his tangi, it was remarked on more than one occasion that he got along with everyone. Whether you were a hot-shot US producer or actor or Joe Bloggs off the street, he was genuinely interested in who you were and what you were about. He was always authentically himself, and it was refreshingly disarming.

It will be no surprise to anyone who knew Ardy that he lived life to the max. I don’t just mean the parties (and there were some good ones). He loved taking his Harley out for long rides with his bros. He loved horses. He loved his film whānau and friends. Above all else, he loved his whānau more than anything.

I thought I knew Ardy pretty well, but he was full of surprises. It was apparent at his tangi that film was really such a tiny sliver of his life. Hearing stories of his younger years, Ardy lived a full life with deep impact. It was so moving meeting his whānau and witnessing how much love they had for the man.

The last time I saw Ardy, I bumped into him before a screening at the end of 2021. It had been a long time since I had seen him, but it felt like just the other day. He was wearing his classic leather jacket, an Akubra hat, and the biggest smile. We hugged, quickly had a beer, and caught up on life before heading into the screening. I didn’t see him after that. I wish I had hugged him a bit longer.

Ardy embodied the best of our industry. He worked hard. He played hard. He loved hard. But he left us too soon.

Moe mai rā e te rangatira. It was an honour to know you.

Deepest condolences and aroha to his whānau. Thank you for sharing him with us.

Desra