On 11 December 2015 the morning telly watching nation mourned the end of a long-running TV One staple. Good Morning’s 9000 hours spanned nearly two decades, from faxes to Facebook. In this final episode, presenters Jeanette Thomas, Matai Smith and Astar wrangle a two-hour curtain call of ex-hosts. Included are the last Men’s Panel, cooking bloopers, and of course, advertorials (with a Suzanne Paul tribute, and a promo for Stiffy fabric stiffener). There’s tautoko to the show’s te reo, support for the arts, and disaster appeals, and Shortland Street's Will Hall lip synchs to Def Leppard.

Over nearly two decades and almost 9000 hours of TV time, Good Morning was a TVNZ light entertainment mainstay, airing on weekdays from 9am on TV One. Filmed at Wellington’s Avalon Studios for most of its run, the magazine show ranged from advertorials for recipes and home appliances to news, film reviews, aerobics, interviews, and … hypnotism. Presenters included inaugural host Liz Gunn, Mary Lambie (with her cat Lou), Sarah Bradley, Brendon Pongia, Steve Gray, Hadyn Jones, Lisa Manning, Rod Cheeseman, Jeanette Thomas, Matai Smith, and Astar.

This Weekend item from 1986 meets the team behind Radio New Zealand’s flagship show Morning Report, from hosts Geoff Robinson and Maggie Barry, to reporters and programmers. Robinson — who would host or co-host Morning Report for 35 years  — talks about listener loyalty, the intimacy of radio, and rejecting BBC style delivery. Meanwhile co-host Maggie Barry — at 26, the show’s youngest host and its first woman presenter — reflects on the importance of being a morning person. Barry would later host a popular garden TV show, and became a National Party MP in 2011.

In this intimate video, set beneath bed covers and shot mostly in close up, director Darryl Ward captures the conscience-stricken essence of Moa's song. Ward's delicate work coupled with Moa's sincere performance, makes for an enchanting confessional.

The Mockers' most well-known single, 'Forever Tuesday Morning' was later listed at number 75 on APRA's list of the Top 100 Kiwi songs. Fagan sits in darkened solitude, a prisoner of his emotions, while the band heads into the TVNZ makeup room, passing Radio with Pictures presenter Karyn Hay on the way. After some mischief involving drummer Steve Thorpe, a can of hairspray and a budgie cut, the band performs. Fagan is now dressed in a flowing white shirt and trademark leotard ensemble. The song was written by Andrew Fagan, Tim Wedde and Gary Curtis.

Sir Howard Morrison (1935 - 2009) was a Kiwi show business icon. This collection is a celebration of 'Ol' Brown Eyes' on screen. From classic concerts and performances of 'Whakaaria Mai', to riffing with with Billy T James; from hosting Top Town, to starring in 60s feature film Don't Let it Get You, to a This is Your Life tribute. Ray Columbus: "He was a master entertainer".

On a Tuesday evening in April 1968, the ferry Wahine set out from Lyttelton for Wellington. Around 6am the next morning, cyclone-fuelled winds surged in strength as it began to enter Wellington Harbour. At 1.30pm, with the ferry listing heavily to starboard, the call was finally made for 734 passengers and crew to abandon ship. The news coverage and documentaries in this collection explore the Wahine disaster from many angles. Meanwhile Keith Aberdein — one of the TV reporters who was there — explores his memories and regrets over that fateful day on 10 April 1968.

Some of New Zealand's most memorable screen images have come from the genre of science fiction: Bruno wandering man alone onto Eden Park in a nightie; giant slugs living under Rangitoto. From alien hunters to futuristic fuel wars to nuclear volcanoes, this collection is a showcase of film and TV that has imagined 'what if?' versions of life in the shaky isles.

This collection celebrates Kiwi comedy on TV: the caricatures, piss-takes, and sitcoms that have cracked us up, and pulled the wool over our eyes for over five decades. From turkeys in gumboots and Fred Dagg, to Billy T, bro'Town and Jaquie Brown. As Diana Wichtel reflects, watching the evolution of native telly laughs is, "a rich and ridiculous, if often painful, pleasure."