The Maori Way...

Editor Tony F ponders his experiences with Maori film-making, in the light of a new book of protocols published by Nga Aho Whakaari…

I’ve been keen to read and review this book for some time now, being only too aware that, though I’ve worked on many film projects with many different Maori film companies over the years, I still am only scratching the surface in terms of my knowledge of tikanga Maori…

URUTAHI KOATAATA MAORI -

Working with Maori in Film and Television

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‘I believe — passionately, as it happens — that it is possible to share with other peoples our own works and be given opportunities to enjoy their works in return. We cannot afford to be light-headed about it though, for experience teaches us that, when moving as artists into the Indigenous world, we may unwittingly be the occasion of significant hurt. With a little respect and understanding, we can avoid that.’** – Barry Barclay**

My first impression, upon being given a copy of this book at Nga Aho Whakaari’s office, was one of blandness! The print on the front cover is very small. The back cover is plain brown, with no writing or illustration of any kind. My thought was that if the book was lying on a table it would disappear into the background; while my immediate preference would be for something that stood out a little more boldly. But thinking about it – perhaps the design of the cover reflects the preferred approach of Maori to things generally, of feeling one’s way gently, and not being up front and bold or confrontational until or unless there’s no other way. In that sense, it is an appropriate cover.

And when one considers the overall tone of the book, then once again it seems to fit.

The best news: Ultimately this book is about easing the shooting process, rather than, as some might anticipate, attempting to proscribe in a dictatorial fashion Maori methods to Pakeha; and thus its approach is amenable, accessible, and extremely helpful.

A comment rather pleasing to the Technicians’ Guild right at the beginning is contained in a reference to the Blue Book. Immediately it’s obvious that the authors have a clear understanding that the whole idea of working together for the benefit of all is a two-way process. But the most satisfying aspect of the book is that it is based on the premise that we all want to see screen productions that include Maori content proceed – the only issue is the best method for going about it to ensure the satisfaction of all involved.

When I first read the book for the purposes of this review, I took my usual tack of first skimming through it quickly, my intent being to get an overview, a general feel for its content and tone. My initial feeling was that the first sections of background and so forth seemed to ramble somewhat, taking a circumlocutory path, revisiting points sometimes more than once… It seemed that quite a large chunk of the book was taken up with this kind of thing, before getting into the guts of actual day-to-day practices – the stuff I was keen to learn more about, despite my fairly extensive experience in working with Maori in filming drama for cinema and television.

Then I stopped.

I thought for a bit; and then I began to read it a second time, having decided that I would not rush to get into the parts dealing with my more immediate concerns. I would wait, be patient, let it percolate… And of course, I then realised that the book is structured in much the same way as the process that one needs to go through in developing a working relationship with a group of Maori, whether they be iwi, hapu, a small community that’s not marae-based, or whatever.

Yes – the need to take time to get to know one another, to prepare for and wait for the appropriate time for each aspect of discussion, planning, getting permissions and so forth, developing meaningful communication and cooperation – in that sense the book’s structure is indeed appropriate.

When I took my time to absorb what was written more carefully, I found it both more accessible and more enjoyable to read. I began to remember one of the most useful things I’ve learnt from my work with Maori in film – that taking the time to savour, whether it be one’s work, a friendship, or food, is the best way of living!

You could be excused for thinking that I should have twigged to this again before starting to read – I guess I can only plead that it’s a little while since I worked on a full-scale Maori project… Some Pakeha take a lot of teaching, and then need lots of reminders!

The book begins with a discussion of why protocols for screen production work with Maori are required; to begin with, going back to the Treaty of Waitangi and explaining its relevance to the film and television industry. If you want to succeed in developing good working relationships with Maori, and achieve the best outcome for whatever kind of production you might be trying to make, then an understanding of the history and how it affects relationships today is, of course, critical.

Right from the beginning, differentiation is made between ‘Maori content’ and what might be called ‘significant Maori content’ – these variations being between productions that are (almost) entirely Maori in content and others where the Maori content may involve only a character or two.

The book does acknowledge the belief on the part of some Maori that non-Maori should not make Maori programmes, nor attempt to tell Maori stories at all, as opposed to the prevailing view that non-Maori productions with Maori content are acceptable – as long as there is appropriate Maori participation.

Then there are the comments I’ve heard from a couple of Maori that the whole advisor process in screen production has become a bit of a gravy train for some, much in the same way as people criticise the Waitangi Tribunal as being a gravy train for lawyers...

However, from my experience in working with Maori, while some individuals might have an eye out for the ‘main chance,’ the book is correct in its assertion that the presence of an advisor (while ensuring the advisor is an appropriate one!) can make a huge difference, in terms of both things running smoothly and being done with proper integrity.

And, of course, if you get the relationships right on one production, then the next time you approach a Maori community to make another programme or film, then clearly it’s going to be infinitely easier the second time round, and your chances of being able to achieve your goals with relative comfort will be much enhanced.

An early and major part of the book involves explaining the necessity of respect for tikanga (or protocol for where mana lies), and how and where it should be acknowledged; and for how various protocols will differ from one area of the country to another, from one tribe to another. The book also discusses what to do when things go wrong – how basically talking and discussing problems will remedy many an ill.

People are encouraged not to give up if they are initially refused permissions of one kind or another; but also to respect specific rules about where one may go or not go with a camera and suchlike.

Naturally, there are a number of references to the use of Maori language within film and television production, and here the book speaks not just to Pakeha. Maori themselves are warned, for example, not to try to adapt a script that is written in what one Maori advisor on a film I worked on described as ‘high-quality Maori’; and particularly to resist the temptation to adapt it to the actor’s own particular dialect. One should show respect towards the original writing.

After having spent nearly 50 pages on the introductory processes, the book gets into specific detail in a way that’s efficient, clearly laid out, easy to read, and accessible. It acknowledges the responsibility of Maori in the process. Quite a bit of time is devoted to tangihanga, the traditional funeral process, both in terms of, for example, news teams filming actual tangi and also fictional dramatisations and the both similar and different processes involved. The very variable responses from different groups in terms of what’s permissible in dealing with filming a tangi are also discussed in a very practical and useful way.

The middle group of chapters deals with tikanga in more particularity, and here, even little things can surprise. The processes of hui to both discuss the project and to get to know and trust each other (the Maori community and the production company) are explored; including various terms such as karakia, the prayers of thanks, guidance, acknowledgment, and invocation for the safe conduct, within both the spiritual and physical realms during the production process.

Then there’s koha, the real meaning of which is not quite what many of us might think! It often involves the return of koha to the donor in the future (which is certainly something I didn’t know), as opposed to kohi (with an ‘i,’ not an ‘a’), which is a gift or payment with no set conditions.

There’s a useful discussion of mana, and also of the Powhiri, the initial ceremony of formal greeting that happens on a marae, is also discussed. Then there are the processes that should occur at the end, as well as at the beginning, of a production. There’s even a Code of Ethics, which includes a useful series of proverbs.

A more detailed chapter about the powhiri and the processes that follow it explains that during the time when you are negotiating, explaining your project, and seeking permissions for various aspects, Maori will be taking their time to look at who you are, to assess your character – in particular your sincerity, integrity, and your degree of commitment to what you’re wanting to do.

Part Two of the book breaks up the filming process into various segments. One chapter is devoted to news gathering, one to television, and one to shorts and feature films. In each case, the chapter goes through from the very beginning of the process, through research, initial liaison with iwi, through pre-production, and into the production process itself. Again it’s a useful structure, easily accessible, with headings that make different segments easy to find. If occasionally there are segments that are repeated in different sections, they don’t add to the bulk of the book particularly – it still remains an efficiently written and structured tome.

The later chapters of the book discuss processes relating to specific departments – art, wardrobe, makeup – for example, the applying of moko. There have been productions where male characters have been shown wearing women’s moko upon their chins, obviously highly inappropriate. Female makeup artists applying moko, particularly to males, has been an issue on occasion, but here again, discussion of issues is recommended as the way to work these things through.

The book goes into many practical things, including (a small surprise to me, having no inclination towards producing whatsoever!) intellectual property rights and so forth. An admirable awareness is shown of all the practicalities involved in the making of screen productions – which I guess is to be expected, given that the authors are extremely experienced in production for film and television!

The status of extras is discussed in various sections. Certainly, in many a Pakeha production worldwide, it’s traditional that cast and crew get food at meal breaks before the extras do, on the principle that the crew and main cast are working longer and harder and don’t have the rest breaks that extras do; while extras often get to relax for considerable periods of time.

There’s also the budgetary factor, in that often a cast and crew are given a substantial meal since they’re often working 12 hours or more, whereas extras might only be there for a much shorter time and are often seen as needing less food... This, of course, is contrary to the Maori protocol, where the provision of food is a critical part of showing respect to one’s guests, an important part of any process within Maori custom.

The providing of less food, or giving food to extras after the main cast and crew, is easily seen as a form of insult – not least when some of those extras are people with significant mana within their own and/or the wider community.

Personally, I agree with the notion of (all, not just Maori) people being treated more equitably it annoys and frustrates me on any set to find extras being treated as cattle, or as ‘warm props’ (a description of performers I’ve heard in the commercials world). Extras may be blanketed under a generic term that may (often falsely) imply a lesser degree of essentialness of these individuals to the production, but those ‘extras’ are people, just like the rest of the crew and cast, and should be treated with similar respect! (Cf. the quote from the film Wings of Desire in the last issue.)

There’s also reference to the responsibility of assistant directors, in particular, to be aware in scheduling to avoid certain situations that often occur on sets – for example, where elderly people and whanau are called many hours before they’re required, and left with inadequate shelter and food. There’s also the need to ensure that people are kept informed of what is happening, especially when they are waiting around for long periods of time.

A little point, but to me a very important one, to quote from the book: it is also essential to ensure that the assistant directors are able to pronounce the names of all Maori people properly, so as to avoid offence. (Maybe I’m a touch hypersensitive in this regard, having a surname that people have constantly got wrong all through my life, but I say this applies to any person – cast, crew, or extra – with any kind of name!)

At a couple of moments while reading the book, I wondered about the tendency we have to sanitise the past, to try to avoid reality in some difficult spheres… This thought grew from the assertion from some quarters that there seems to be an attempt on the part of some Maori these days to present themselves and their history in a ‘good light,’ as opposed to what has been described as a ‘more accurate light’ – but no, this does not apply to this book.

In terms of Maori film-making generally, a superb illustration of this was the one film I did with Barry Barclay, Feathers of Peace. I remember being asked by people in Wellington before returning to Auckland for the First AD job, whether Maori could seriously be trusted to tell the truth of the story of the invasion of the Chathams in 1839 by two Maori tribes, and the massacre of Moriori that occurred.

To this I could only say, not having met Barry at that point and not yet having seen the script, that we would have to wait and see. Of course, when I did see the script, I was not just impressed – I was astonished at the honest, unsensational gutsiness of the portrayal of what had occurred in that particular series of events – and also with the explanation of how the Pakeha governors of the 1860s aligned with Maori, particularly through the court process, to perpetuate that injustice to Moriori over the following decades.

I experienced a similar willingness to confront the past truthfully when working on the television series Aroha – one episode of which was written and directed by Brad Haami (the principal author of this book, I believe) and Ngamaru Raerino…

All in all, a very useful book, and not just for Pakeha. The series of appendices it concludes with are useful, such as the Maori and Pakeha versions of the various role titles within a film crew. Contact details for a wide variety of organisations in the screen industry and a glossary of Maori words used in the book are also very handy.

Overall, the quality of the writing and the proof-reading is excellent.

A couple of moments made me chuckle, though: in one place the word ‘morés’ (as in ethical practices, pronounced ‘more rays’) is used three times in four pages; in one place it is spelt correctly (morés) but in the other places it’s spelt ‘morays.’ The moray is a species of that edible delicacy, the eel. Would that all our ethics were (like this book) that easily ingested!

Tony F.

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