This edition in Prime’s television history series surveys Māori programming. Director Tainui Stephens pairs societal change (urbanisation, protest, cultural resurgence) with an increasing Māori presence in front of and behind the camera. Interviews with broadcasters are intercut with Māori screen content. The episode charts an evolution from Māori as exotic extras, via pioneering documentaries, drama and current affairs, to being an intrinsic part of Aotearoa’s screen landscape, with te reo used on national news, and Māori telling their own stories on Māori Television.
Something of an antipodean Seven Up! (a series of life-chronicling British documentaries) this documentary picks up on the stories of four young Māori — now middle-aged — 24 years after they moved to the Wellington as part of a Māori Affairs Department redeployment program. It makes liberal use of the original film to contrast the cowshed to cubicle journeys; and revisits Ripeka (now in Hamilton), Moana (Guam via Japan), Grace (Wellington), and Phillip (Brisbane), who reflect on the paths their lives have followed, and on their Māori culture and where 'home' is.
This 1981 NFU film is a tour of the contemporary world of Aotearoa’s tangata whenua. It won headlines over claims that its portrayal of Māori had been sanitised for overseas viewers. Debate and a recut ensued. Writer Witi Ihimaera felt that mentions of contentious issues (Bastion Point, the land march) in his original script were ignored or elided in the final film, and withdrew from the project. He later told journalists that the controversy showed that educated members of minority groups were no longer prepared to let the majority interpret the minority view.
Broken Barrier marked the first New Zealand dramatic feature to be made since 1940. Its production saw directors John O'Shea and Roger Mirams crowding into a Vauxhall with two silent cameras, one picked up "from a dead German in the Western Desert". Ditching dialogue for 'spoken thoughts', the pioneering film examines cultural complications in a romance between a Pākehā journalist (Terence Bayler) and a Māori nurse (Kay Ngarimu, aka Keita Whakato Walker). According to O'Shea, some viewers considered it "a dirty movie" for spurring mixed race relationships.
This 1946 film surveys New Zealand housing: from settler huts to Ernest Plischke’s modernist flats. Architect William Page bemoans sun-spurning Victorian slums with their unneeded “elaboration”. But more fretful than fretwork is a housing crisis that sees 26,000 families needing homes, with owning or renting out of reach of many. Michael Savage’s pioneering (but war-stalled) state housing scheme and newly-planned suburbs offer hope. Fed by wood and cement, NZ can build again with brio: “For a home is the basis of the simple things that make victory worthwhile.”
This NFU documentary reviews Māori in New Zealand in 1960 through the lens of Pakeha boosterism. It depicts Māori cultural revival and Māori being channeled into the cities into schools, housing, trades and labouring work. The Maori Today is of it's time: the narration advocates that Māori land to be consolidated into a single title (a policy today considered responsible for alienation of Māori by The Crown). However it contains some classic footage, such as artist E Mervyn Taylor working on prints inspired by Māori myth and of noted politician Eurera Tirikatene.
This short film, made for the second season of Loading Docs, goes beneath a manhole cover to explore a secret history of Auckland’s Queen Street. Waihorotiu is a quest down from the skyscraper canopy of New Zealand’s largest city to find traces of Waihorotiu — an ancient waterway situated under the concrete. Archive material and animation explore the awa's history, from tangiwha lair (the water of Horotiu) to fetid canal and brick sewer severed from its natural source. The film was directed by Frances Haszard and Louis Olsen; Pita Turei narrates.
Made for television in the late 60s, this documentary pursues four young Māori — Ripeka, Moana, Grace and Phillip — as they transition from school, whānau and rural life to live in the city. The film follows them as they arrive in Wellington and attend a pre-employment course run by The Department of Māori Affairs, which offers accommodation and advice on employment options. Director Arthur Everard later became NZ's Chief Film Censor. A 1991 sequel To Live in the City 24 Years On, travelled across three countries to pick up on the lives of the four, now middle aged.
Made for the UN's first 'Earth Summit' in Stockholm in 1971, the film explores what the future holds for NZ’s environment. Director Hugh Macdonald (This is New Zealand) presents an impressionistic ecosystem: mixing shots of native natural wonder, urbanisation, and pollution with abstract montages and predictions from futurologists — such as Cousteau’s “underwater man”. Before climate change heated up 21st Century Doomsday debates, this film (made for the Ministry of Works!) places stock in individual responsibility. The score aptly enlists the French nursery rhyme ‘Are You Sleeping?’.
A flagbearer for Māori storytelling on primetime television, E Tipu e Rea (Grow up tender young shoot) was a series of 30 minute dramas touching on a range of Māori experiences of the Pākehā world — from rural horse-back riding and eeling, to urban hostility and cultural estrangement. It marked the first anthology of Māori television plays, and the first TV production to use predominantly Māori personnel. E Tipu e Rea's mandate and achievement was to tell Māori stories in a Māori way.