The impacts of ethnic and mainstream culture on Māori-themed films

ABSTRACT

This paper analyses the impact of Hollywood crime-thrillers and that of Māori cultural conventions in Māori-themed New Zealand films. The influence of the former is detected in the figure of the gang member, whilst that of the latter in Taiaiake Alfred’s New Warrior, who uses social skills and mental rather than physical strength to fight for the wellbeing of the community. By analysing the portrayals of such characters, we detect how they negotiate the conventions of art films, or ethnically involved ‘Fourth Cinema,’ and those of popular entertainment. We come to the conclusion that although certain gang-related images in these productions are gory, romanticized or Hollywoodized, the representation of contemporary Māori warriors still displays, to a greater or lesser degree, social issues related to modern leadership and the wellbeing of Māori tribes.

KEYWORDS:

• Gangs
• ethnic cinema
• Indigenous cinema
• Māori culture
• new warrior
• warrior

Introduction

Although the New Zealand film industry is not a major one, several films managed to become well-known and internationally awarded. In the first seventy years of its history, New Zealand filmmaking was not very productive (Thompson 2003, 236) and Māori were always depicted through the perspective of Pākehā (white New Zealanders), since the producers were almost solely of European origin. Their biased portrayal varies – from complete erasure ‘to various myths and fantasies of colonialist subjection and control: Māori as object of scientific, ethnographic or voyeuristic scrutiny; Māori as childlike or … “noble savage” whose culture is … inevitably giving way to the dominant and “superior” settler culture’ (Keown 2008, 197).

The representation of Māori changed from the 1970s, with the Māori Renaissance, the revival of Māori language and culture, which was achieved by establishing traditional meeting areas, marae, within the urban environment. Political protests attempted to compensate for the devastating effects of land loss, urbanization and deculturation (Houkamau 2010, 183). Māori language, te reo Māori, became a subject taught at schools and promoted through radio and television broadcasting (Joyce 2013, 31). The Indigenous people in New Zealand started to participate in filmmaking and gradually gained ‘visibility in, access to and control over the media content’ (Martens 2012, 3) that described them. This coincided with the ‘Indigenization’ process of the silver screen in other countries, such as the US and Canada (Martens 2012, 3; Knabe and Pearson 2015, 7).

Another turning point was the establishment of the New Zealand Film Commission (NZFC) in 1978, whose main intention was to make New Zealand film visible for the world (Petrie 2010, 68). In the late 1990s, the NZFC declared support for Māori projects, which also meant that Māori were often included in the decision-making processes. Its support even strengthened in the 2000s, after several international successes. As a result, at present Māori cinema is considered ‘one of the, if not the, most thriving Indigenous cinemas in the world’ (Martens 2012, 5).

The two most significant figures in the history of Māori filmmaking were Merata Mita and Barry Barclay, who directed, produced, and participated in several Māori projects. The first Māori-made dramatic feature film was Barry Barclay’s Ngati (1987), followed by Merata Mita’s Mauri (1988), which was the first dramatic feature film made by an Indigenous woman. These two feature films included as many Māori as possible in the process of filmmaking; they even trained them as technicians to provide them with skills for the future (Keown 2008, 207–208). They were later followed by Barclay’s Te Rua (1991), which became, in addition to Ngati, an example of his notion of Fourth Cinema: productions which are created by Māori, target them as the primary audience, and are influenced by their traditional culture. As Murray observes, in case of such films, the viewers need to ‘understand the cultures from which it comes, and that it is aimed at these cultures first and foremost … [produced in] the ways in which the historical base of the film interacts with the contemporary issues prevalent at the time of its making’ (2008, 18).

A highly successful Māori feature film, Once Were Warriors (1994), was released a few years later. Although the majority of cast and crew was Māori (De Souza 2007, 16; Moran and Vieth 2009, 335; Thornley 2001, 23), the film was not received well by several Māori scholars who claimed that it did not project historical realities sufficiently and they described it as ‘a commercial, Hollywood-influenced cinematic experience’ (Martens 2012, 10). It has also been criticized for showing too much violence (Adah 2001, 50; Hokowhitu 2004, 263–264). Yet, it became extremely popular among the general audience, both nationally and internationally, and had a considerable impact on the New Zealand film industry.

Although films influenced by Once Were Warriors still deal with Māori issues or tell Māori stories to a certain extent, they are not always entirely Māori made: they can be created by Pākehā or foreign directors and screenwriters with a Māori adviser or producer on set, casting Māori actors in the main roles (De Souza 2007, 16; Dunleavy and Joyce 2011, 238). They also intend to open up towards world-wide audiences with humour, international topics, melodrama, the depiction of criminality and violence, or other popularizing techniques. For example, this is the case with Crooked Earth (2001), Whale Rider (2002), Tracker (2010), White Lies (2013), The Dark Horse (2014), The Dead Lands (2014), Mahana (2016) and Muru (2022). Hence, we will refer to these productions as ‘Māori-themed’ films.

This paper intends to focus on the period when Māori-themed films became highly visible in the New Zealand film industry and to some extent gained international attention. The growing influence of popularization and commercialization channelled short- and feature films into entertaining genres such as sports films (The Dark Horse, Tits on a Bull [2014], Ow What! [2015]), action-thrillers (Crooked Earth; Tracker; Muru) or melodramas (Whale Rider). We intend to examine the influence of crime-thrillers on Māori-themed films in the images of urban gang members. By analysing the portrayals of such characters, we detect how they negotiate the conventions of art films or ethnically involved ‘Fourth Cinema’ and those of popular entertainment.

The graphic descriptions of violence by ethnic gangs are often utilized on the small- and big screen to ‘grab and keep an audience – whether in the United States or elsewhere around the globe’ (Crothers 2006, 51). In Hollywood cinema, gang members appear in romantic musicals such as West Side Story (1961; 2021), Shakespeare adaptations such as William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet (1996), Romeo Must Die (2000), and Cymbeline (2014), feel-good dramas such as Gran Torino (2008) or The Blind Side (2009), and crime thrillers such as Assault on Precinct 13 (1976), The Warriors (1979), Training Day (2001), Gangs of New York (2002) or The Departed (2006). Whatever the genre, these films primarily connect gang members with addiction, organized crime, disintegrated families, and street violence.

In our analysed Māori-themed films, the portrayal of gang members varies. Replicating Hollywood conventions, they are mostly shown connected to drug business, family violence, alcoholism, and street crime. On the other hand, in Māori-themed films, these characters almost always interact or cooperate with, and sometimes even become similar to, Taiaiake Alfred’s ‘New Warrior,’ who uses social skills and intellectual rather than physical strength for the wellbeing of the community. Alfred defines New Warriors as those who manage to harmonize historical traditions, culture or language, and contemporary challenges: ‘they move forward heeding the teachings of the ancestors and carrying a creed that has been taken from the past and remade into a powerful way of being in their new world’ (Alfred 2009, 29). New Warriors are traditionally personified by men, but women who stand up for their rights (Bowers 2017, 50) can also gain these roles (Alfred 2009, 82, 84, 189), as it happens, for example, in Once Were Warriors, Whale Rider, and Whina (2022). Their actions respond to the loss of traditional cultures and languages, in order to compensate for the resulting weakened political power of Indigenous groups (Alfred 2009, 247). Thus, such characters are intellectual leaders and educators who are ‘deeply committed to the regeneration of indigenous people’s integrity, refute stereotypes and challenge “the dominant colonial discourse”’ (Hare 2011, 1).

The gang members in the analysed films often deploy physical violence and verbal aggression, even in their families, as well as break the law for personal gain. New Warriors, however, do not primarily utilize combat or physical strength but mostly intellectual prowess and social skills, although they protect and support their family (Alfred 2009, 51–59, 97, 175). Another difference is the attitude to culture and language: in most of the analysed films, gang members never express themselves in Māori or recognize traditional ethnic culture. (Once Were Warriors and Crooked Earth provide notable exceptions here). By contrast, New Warriors repeatedly rely on Māori language and culture to encourage younger characters and remind them of their ethnic backgrounds. The New Warrior may also use the strategy of civil disobedience, a temporary and collective disregard of the law, ‘a mass surge of indigenous power against the divisive and controlling state structures’ (Alfred 2009, 204), which happens, for example, in Barclay’s Te Rua.¹

As Jo Smith observes, Māori filmmakers and intellectuals such as Taika Waititi draw on ‘authentic cultural tradition’ or ‘vernacular culture’ and, simultaneously, ‘global popular culture’ and other entertaining themes (2012, 67). Thus, their productions become ‘easily translatable to a global audience’ (68). Angela Marie Smith confirms that Waititi’s Boy (2010b) includes both internationally decipherable elements, such as childhood, shame, coming-of-age stories, as well as ‘nationally / culturally specific references’ (2020, 331). Ruth Brown also claims that featuring violence and rap music makes Once Were Warriors similar to Hollywood-made Afro-American urban films, and yet ‘at the same time the film has a distinctive national flavour’ (1999, 145). This paper intends to demonstrate that these two conventions are not always easily distinguishable from each other. The analysed Māori-themed films, influenced by Hollywood crime-thrillers, tend to feature street- or motorcycle-gangs with ‘the graphic depiction of violence [which] is a titillating narrative sleight of hand’ (Adah 2001, 55). On the other hand, gang members conventionally appear in ethnic cinema, as well (Berghahn 2013, 3–4, 123; Hillenbrand 2008, 64; Márquez 2012, 628). Furthermore, the analysed Māori-themed films are peppered with ethnically specific references to New Warriors, and they often portray various, sometimes complicated, interactions between these two types of characters.

Once Were Warriors shows the lives of gang members and those of the New Warriors as two distinct, but not mutually exclusive, ways to express and follow a Maori identity. In other films, the two life choices show a sharp contrast. A bitter feud, ending with a brief moment of reconciliation, between these two types of characters takes place in Crooked Earth and The Dark Horse. In other cases, gang membership becomes a highly condemned choice, which is clearly visible in What Becomes of the Broken Hearted? Certain characters in Broken (2018) and The Dark Horse go through a coming-of-age process, whereby they start with a rebellious period of urban violence but slowly become influenced by the principles of New Warriors. While the same pattern is evoked, it also becomes parodied, in Taika Waititi’s Boy.

In all these cases, the gory representation of gangs opens up these films to international audiences (Adah 2001; Martens 2012; Smith 2020). Violence sells on the big screen (Hogan 2005) and gang related violence can be a highly effective way to portray violence (Crothers 2006, 51).² Thus, we come to the conclusion that, on the one hand, the analysed Māori-themed films are viewer-friendly and somewhat romanticized or Hollywoodized to gain universal appeal (Dunleavy and Joyce 2011, 235; Hardy 2008, 130). On the other hand, social sensibility related to modern leadership and the wellbeing of Māori tribes still remains tangible in these productions, insofar as these elements, exemplified by the New Warrior, complement and diversify the gruesome descriptions of patched gang life in New Zealand.

Mutuality between gangs and New Warriors: Once Were Warriors

As Brendan Hokowhitu (2008, 115–117) observes, during the colonial times Māori tāne (males) were usually viewed as members of a tribal warrior society. From the Pākehā perspective, the martial character of Māori was portrayed ambivalently and paradoxically. On the one hand, Māori man was viewed as savage, immoral, degenerate and sinful, which helped to justify conquest and colonization (Bhabha 1994, 70). On the other hand, the savage Māori warrior was also ‘endowed with positive qualities such as “physical prowess,” “nobleness” and “a warrior spirit”’ (Hokowhitu 2008, 117). This positive image may stem from the traditional respect of warrior culture in British society (Paris 2000) or from the relatively idolized image of Māori, who ‘were often referred to as the most civilized of all savages’ (Hokowhitu 2004, 265). Whatever the reasons, this ambivalent representation of Māori warriors is apparent in several Māori-themed films.

Once Were Warriors, directed by Lee Tamahori, is considered the first New Zealand worldwide known Indigenous blockbuster (Thompson 2003, 230). Tamahori did not expect the film to be successful and well-received by critics; yet, it became extremely popular among Māori and gained worldwide success: after its release, the NZFC ‘received a 327 percent return’ profit (Thompson 2003, 237). The story had a major influence on the New Zealand society, especially Māori women living in abusive households, and so numerous women found the courage to leave their violent husbands, and seek help, inspired by the film (Thompson 2003, 233).

The film portrays Māori people in an urban space where participation in a gang might be a substitution for their former tribal society or extended family, whanau, by whose means people support each other (Keown 2008, 205–206). The film correlates with ethnographic research, such as that of Jarrod Gilbert, who conducted an extensive study on New Zealand gangs by living among the gang members without becoming an active participant himself.

Gilbert (2013) states that in the 1950s the gangs were predominantly Pākehā, as the majority of Māori still lived in the rural areas, but with the migration wave the numbers of Māori gang members increased and by the 1970s they outweighed the Pākehā (44). The members form close relationships, calling each other ‘brothers’ (160). The major cause of becoming a gang member is ‘associated with a permanent underclass’ (45), problems with employment and housing, in general with low socioeconomic status and discrimination of all forms. Members usually do not make their living by work because of ‘the heavy drinking, partying and impulsive lifestyle’ (112) and they tend to commit crimes of various kinds instead. Nevertheless, several members have whanau connections and promote the importance of whanau (55, 61, 251.) In a few cases, they were influenced by political activities, for example, protests against Māori land loss and some of their actions were inspired by the American Civil Rights Movement (61, 104).

The film’s representation of ethnic urban gang members also correlates to some extent with ethnic cinema of the time. As Daniella Berghahn points out, European films focussing on ethnic perspectives, depicting migrant lives by migrant filmmakers, can also feature gang members. Such films show the aspirations of multi-ethnic protagonists to integrate in the society by patriarchal, violent and illegal means (2013, 3–4, 15). They also show the ethnic protagonists protecting the families of minority from the harassment of white and other ethnic gangs and that of the policemen (Márquez 2012, 628). Typical examples can be the Norwegian-Pakistani Izzat (2005), Turkish-German Kurz und schmerzlos / Short Sharp Shock (1998) and Chiko (2008), as well as the famous French banlieau film Le Haine (1995). These stories are often peppered with references to Hollywood crime film classics such Mean Streets (1973), Taxi Driver (1976), Scarface (1983), and The Godfather series.

Due to the representation of violence, such European and American films, for example, Chicano productions like American Me (1992) and Blood In Blood Out (1993), had controversial receptions amongst the critics (Baugh 2003, 4). On the other hand, gritty and gory details help these productions to gain a universal appeal; for example, as Puente observes, in case of American Me and Blood In Blood Out, ‘the movie trailers and the publicity campaign focused on the violence that accompanied the three featured characters’ (2013, 61).

The gang which Nig (Julian Arahanga), the oldest son of the dysfunctional Heke family in Once Were Warriors, joins is called Aotearoa Toa, which literally means ‘New Zealand Warriors.’ The gang provides him with shelter, family, the feeling of belonging, and an identity which he was not able to find within his own family. His father Jake (Temuera Morrison) and his alcoholic friends also watch out for each other to a certain extent, but their bonds are not as strong, which becomes obvious when Uncle Bully (Cliff Curtis), one of Jake’s closest friends, rapes his thirteen-year-old daughter Grace (Mamaengaroa Kerr-Bell). The plot climaxes when Grace commits suicide in their backyard because of the rape. Consequently, her mother Beth (Rena Owen) decides to go back to her whanau which she left when she married Jake. The film ends with the sounds of sirens in the background and an act of bravery from Beth when she declares that unlike their ancestors, Jake is not a real warrior.

The head of the family fails, and in their arguments with Beth explicitly rejects, to become a warrior in the modern urban environment, but his two sons manage to do so. Nig joins a gang whose function may be the substitution of the tribal society (Keown 2008, 205–206). The members speak Māori in several scenes and the name of their gang is fully in Māori. Nig gets moko (traditional Māori tattoo) on his face and when he meets Jake in the pub, he denies that he is his father in front of his new comrades. Eventually, he turns up with his fellow gang members at his sister’s tangi (funeral) with dignity and pride. In this scene, gang members wearing their patched jackets participate in the traditional Māori funeral rite. As Keown points out, such sequels in the film adaptation show a huge contrast to Alan Duff’s book (1990), where ‘contemporary Māori gang culture is represented as a debased and spurious form of Māori warriorhood’ (2008, 205).³

In spite of the gang’s relatively positive role in the film’s story, the occasional brutality in their world is also depicted. This happens the most clearly in Nig’s initiation ritual, the ‘judgement day,’ whereby he is surrounded and beaten up by about fifteen members of the gang. After the leader of the gang decides that he has had enough, he helps him up and welcomes him to his ‘new family’ (Tamahori 1994, 37:05).

The path of the New Warrior also appears in the film. Boogie (Taungaroa Emile), the younger brother, repeatedly gets into trouble with the law and he is finally sentenced to stay in social welfare custody because the judge, the police and the social worker agree that his parents are not able to control him. The youth correctional facility seems to be intended for young Māori boys where the social worker Mr Bennett (George Henare) teaches them about Māoritanga (Indigenous traditions and way of life). They learn how to handle the traditional Māori weapon taiaha and perform haka, which is used to reach up ancestral lines (Adah 2001, 51). Thus, Boogie undergoes a major change, finding his own Indigenous identity. He shows respect to the elders and makes his mother and family proud at his sister’s funeral. He honours his sister by singing a traditional Māori mourning song and by this act he demonstrates his identity, respect towards his family and ancestors, and his recently gained knowledge of their culture.

At the end of the film, Beth also becomes a character influenced by the values of the New Warrior. She organizes Grace’s tangi at her native marae and finds courage to stand up to Jake. She decides to protect her children and raise them in a safe environment where they cannot be hurt by Jake’s brutality, by returning to her whanau. Thus, as De Souza observes, she manages ‘to build a bridge’ between her ‘ancestral identity’ and modern life in the city (2007, 22). She ‘emerges as a leader’ or warrior, which is masterfully emphasized by a lap dissolve from the image of her face to that of a wooden carving of a warrior on the roof of her marae (23).

Contrast between gangs and New Warriors: What Becomes of the Broken Hearted? and broken

In the sequel to Once Were Warriors, Ian Mune’s What Becomes of the Broken Hearted?, gang membership does not show a valuable alternative for the characters. The film’s soundtrack, which is described by a reviewer as ‘overwrought and overbearing’ (McDonald 2001, 42), as well as other cinematic techniques, make the film highly melodramatic, while the gritty descriptions of gang violence turn it into a commercialized crime thriller (Adah 2001, 55). The impact of popular Hollywood cinema is heightened by the theatrical contrast between gang members and characters influenced by the values of New Warriors.

The gangs in the sequel differ considerably from the Aotearoa Toa gang of Once Were Warriors, insofar as the emphasis is laid upon the parties at their den and feuds between rival gangs. Thus, patched membership does not constitute substitution for the whanau.⁴ Nig’s new gang is called the ‘Hawks,’ and the film begins with a gun fight between them and a rival gang, the Black Snakes. Nig dies under suspicious conditions, possibly shot by his own gang. His younger brother, Sonny (Clint Eruera), joins the Black Snakes to revenge the death of his brother.

Another storyline is centred on Jake Heke, who now lives with his new girlfriend Rita (Edna Stirling). He spends most of his time with his friends in the local pub, drinking himself into a violent monster. At some point, however, he realizes that he has a crisis and attempts to solve his problems after he meets two heavily built Māori men, the Douglas brothers (Anaru Grant and Warwick Morehu). They become his new friends who show him a less destructive way to use their physical power when they raise the end of his car for a wheel change, go pig-hunting, and enjoy camping, where they are singing Māori songs near the campfire. He is trying to become similar to them, returning to his ethnic roots and coping with the challenges of his family’s disintegration, thus turning into a New Warrior. He cannot remain as peaceful and balanced as the Douglas brothers, but succeeds to win back his family’s trust when he proves his dedication and love in a fight with the Black Snakes in an attempt to save Sonny’s life, putting his own life in danger. His actions demonstrate that a New Warrior ‘is what a warrior has always been: one who protects the people, who stands with dignity and pride in the face of danger’ (Alfred 2009, 97).

Tarry Mortlock’s Broken is based on Joy Cowley’s children’s literature story Tārore and Her Book (2009), which describes historical events related to Tārore from the iwi (tribe) Ngāti Hauā. Tārore became a Christian martyr in the nineteenth century, after he was murdered by a rival tribe, Ngāti Whakaue. Due to the influence of a Māori language copy of the Gospel of Luke, which Tārore wore around her neck all the time, her death was followed by a reconciliation between the two tribes instead of the traditional utu (the maintenance of balance, which is possible to be achieved by revenge).

A very clear – and sometimes overly melodramatic and didactic – Christian message characterizes the film. It features a protagonist who is similarly repentant as Jake Heke in What Becomes of the Broken Hearted?. Logan (played by Joshua Calles, a first-time actor) is the ex-president of the gang Mad Bulls Aotearoa, who now works in a boxing club run by his friend Coop (played by radio DJ Brian Sagala, an advocate of Māori cultural issues). He left the gang behind to live with his daughter Tori (Ruby Grubb) after his wife died in an accident, for which Logan is responsible. They enjoy surfing and a healthy life, until Tori is murdered by a rival gang, the Pouakai, led by Cruz (Wayne Hapi). Logan first intends to re-join the Mad Bulls and take vengeance with the help of the current president Murphy (Jol Sparks). However, Tori’s video blog changes Cruz’s life as he starts to distance himself from his gang and to listen to his dying mother, who advises forgiveness. She gets killed by Murphy in revenge, but Tori’s vlog eventually prompts Logan and Cruz to reconcile, forgive each other for their violent pasts, and they stop the full-fledged war between the rival gangs.

The film shows the destructive brutality of the gangs with an initiation ritual and gory scenes of the gang war. The story indicates that the members commit serious crimes: the Pouakai break into Logan’s house and kill Tori as they think that the Mad Bulls have a video footage showing the murder of a policeman which they committed in the past. A radio programme at some point indicates that their criminalities are so overwhelming that the only way to deal with this is ‘to cut it off the root’ (Mortlock 2018, 08:19–08:23) and make gang activities completely illegal, which seems to sum up the overall message of the producers.

The brutally damaging patched life is in contrast with the religious values of Tori and her Christian youth club, which are emphasized throughout the film. Logan’s story, however, also indicates that, apart from turning to religion and leaving behind the gang, Logan has to find his Māori ethnic roots. The character who urges him to change this way is his best friend Coop, a New Warrior figure who performs the karakia (Māori incantations to seek spiritual guidance) at Tori’s tangi. He also plays a key role in the reconciliation process between Cruz and Logan, and advises Logan throughout the film to stay away from the gangs. In a way similar to a New Warrior, Logan and Coop defeat the brutality of the gangs with their mental and emotional stability. On a metaphorical level, they triumph over Pouakai, a gigantic bird monster in Māori mythology who eats humans.

Thus, What Becomes of the Broken Hearted? and Broken focus on the destructive practices of patched street gangs and the coming-of-age process of the middle-aged characters. Jake and Logan fight against the influence of gangs and gradually become influenced by the values of the New Warrior. The lifestyle of the gangs and the path of the New Warrior are highly contrasted in both films. This contrast adds an educational, but somewhat naïve, tone to the stories, whereby the plots and the conflicts become extremely simplified (Adah 2001, 55).

In these two productions, Māori ethnic traditions and the figure of the New Warrior only appear sporadically; hence, the gruesome descriptions of gang violence come to the foreground, serving as techniques of popularization and commercialization.

Truce between gangs and New Warriors: Crooked Earth and The Dark Horse

Crooked Earth (2001), made by Sam Pillsbury, an American-born director who moved to New Zealand, is a modern-day western (Margolis 2011) or action movie set in the Auckland region in the 1980s. The film received rather negative criticisms (Margolis 2011, 93–96) even from Māori critics (Martens 2012, 29). The film focuses on a gang which is a hybrid between the gangs of the Wild West, insofar as they ride on horseback in the country, and those of the street gangs in New Zealand, insofar as their members are Māori who profit from the marihuana business, ‘a practice that by the latter half of the 1990s was being directly linked to gangs’ (Gilbert 2013, 184).

The plot tells the story of a rivalry between two brothers. As Hokowhitu observes, the ‘former is a cleancut ex-army officer who has “the support of his people”; the latter is a long-haired, frenzied, horse-riding, gun-wielding outcast’ (2004, 264). The latter, Kahu (Lawrence Makoare), is the gang leader who intends to become the new chief of his tribe after his father’s death. His opponent is Will (Temuera Morrison), who comes back to his marae, dismissed from the army after twenty years of service. He is the older brother, entitled to become the new leader by tradition, but he is not interested in the leadership. Although he used to be a soldier, one of the reasons why he rejects the leadership role is that the sacred patu, which represents the power of the chief, is a weapon traditionally used for killing people. Thus, he rejects the path of violence and armed resistance (Alfred 2009, 50–51; 270).

Kahu is a mixture of a traditional warrior and a gang leader. He desires power and the leadership of his people and so he takes the patu at his father’s funeral. He is fluent in te reo Māori, gets facial moko, and when there are negotiations whether to sell their land to the Pākehā, he and his comrades perform traditional haka to demonstrate their disagreement, claiming that the land belongs to the tribe. On the other hand, Kahu does not show any respect to his dead father at the funeral. He is also involved in crime, growing marihuana and participating in the arms trade, and is ready to burn the forests in the land disputes. Although he and his comrades ride horses instead of motorcycles, they form a community extremely similar to urban gangs with strict regulations, strong bonds and hierarchy: when a member disregards their rules, the breach is followed by punishment, humiliation in front of everyone and expulsion from the gang, in a way similar to the New Zealand patched gang scene (see Gilbert 2013, 156–157).

Will resembles a New Warrior insofar that he enjoys the support of his tribe and intends to find relatively peaceful solutions to the land dispute. In the beginning, he is a person who distances himself from the tribal way of life and lives a western lifestyle. Nevertheless, he soon burns his army uniform, returns to traditional values and starts to fight for them. Eventually he needs to shoot his brother, but they depart in peace as his brother hands him the patu before he dies. Will accepts this and promises that he and his daughter Ripeka (Jaime Passier-Armstrong) will advocate the rights of the tribe, but with less extreme separatism and violence than his brother did. This is similar to the leadership of Alfred’s New Warrior, which often ‘implies an approach of strategic (though ironic) cooperation with those parts of the imperial system which are in fact good or which simply are not involved with the specific injustices’ (2009, 205).

The Dark Horse shows a similar conflict, and eventually a truce or reconciliation, between two brothers who personify a gang leader and a New Warrior. The film was written and directed by James Napier Robertson, a young Pākehā artist who decided to make this film about Genesis Potini after watching a documentary about the Māori chess player. He states that Potini was a complex person and when they first met he had to earn his respect in a game of chess. They played over a hundred games of chess during which they talked about Genesis’s life. He used these discussions with Genesis, although he admits that he had to ‘go outside the box’ (Patta 2016, 2:25) from what Genesis told him. He also involved Genesis’s friends while filming, who were actually on set, to make sure everything will be ‘authentic’ and as close to reality as possible (Kotek 2014, 1:04–1:56).

The plot is based on the exceptional real-life chess player Genesis Potini, who suffered from severe bipolar disorder, played by Cliff Curtis, a Māori actor born in Rotorua. Wayne Hapi, who plays the character of Ariki, is a first-time actor: they found him in an income office when he was looking for a job. He is Genesis’s brother and the father of Mana (James Rolleston), who has to decide whether to go in his father’s footsteps and join the gang or to stand on his own feet and devote himself to chess playing. Wayne Hapi ‘was actually a gang member himself for fifteen years in Black Power, which is one of New Zealand’s worst gangs,’ in a way similar to the rest of the cast playing the gang members, who are either still in a gang or are ex-gang members (Patta 2016, 11:40–12:05; see Gilbert 2013, 60–66).

The gang, Vagrants Gisborne, plays a crucial part in the film insofar as the protagonist, Genesis Potini, attempts to prevent his nephew Mana from becoming a member. He offers him and other young kids, mostly Māori, the chance to become useful members of the society with the possibility of learning and playing professional chess in the club The Eastern Knights. Mana’s gang membership is the wish of his father, who is suffering from terminal illness, drinks heavily, and, anticipating his final days, wants his son to be protected after his death. To join the gang Mana has to undergo brutal tests, led by Mutt (Barry Te Hira), who becomes in charge of Mana’s initiation process and bullies him regularly. The gang is quite populous: the members drink heavily, rob houses and probably commit other crimes, as well. It is also hierarchical where the word of the leader is utterly respected (see Gilbert 2013, 156–158), insofar that to his order members do not hesitate to beat up their own comrade.

Genesis Potini is an archetypal New Warrior, a stout toothless man with an eccentric haircut, gifted by the ability to play chess masterly and to pass on his knowledge to underprivileged children who would be likely to end up joining a gang or becoming criminals. He leads and educates the children, teaches them Māori values and traditions during the meetings of The Eastern Knights chess club, which take place in a marae. He calls the chess pieces ‘warriors’ and connects them to the Māori legend of Māui, a mythical leader or trickster, as well as the warriors who pulled up the land of Aotearoa. He lets the children decide the figure that they want to identify with, which they can keep as kaitiaki (guardian). They sing Māori songs together and learn to note down the moves they make, and other basic rules of chess, through Māori legends. He has a great impact on them as a tohunga (spiritual leader) and shows them the importance of having a purpose in their lives, which they lack in their families, by bringing them to the National Chess Championships in Auckland.

The film ends with a face-off between him and the gang, as Genesis gathers all his courage and asks his brother’s permission to let his son play professionally. After standing up for Mana, Genesis is hit with a metal stick several times by Mutt. When Ariki sees his determination, he takes the patch back from Mana, lets them leave and orders Mutt’s brutal punishment, who cannot accept peacefully the new situation.

Genesis Potini can be considered an exemplary New Warrior who changes the lives of many young Māori through chess and Indigenous mythology. Adopting ancient teachings, as a New Warrior, he uses these ‘to better … . [himself] and the life of the collective’ (Alfred 2009, 272). He is in conflict with the gang members, and so the film confronts the two modern types of warriors. The opposition between the two worlds is highlighted at one point with cross-cutting, in a way similar to the climax of Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather (1972), which alternatingly shows Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) attending a baptism in a church and the brutal assassinations of his gangsters. In The Dark Horse, the film switches back and forth between the scenes of gang violence and the chess club’s fundraiser event, in which a member reiterates the story of the tohunga and the boy, who save a village from an earthquake.

It connects gang members and New Warriors, however, that they are led by two brothers who have a strong emotional bond and help each other in need: Potini is devastated when he finds out about his brother’s terminal illness and Ariki shares his house with Potini when he has a nervous breakdown in public. They both want to ensure a safe future for the young Māori character Mana, who goes through a coming-of-age process whereby he changes from a wannabe gang member to a more mature person. When their rivalry ends with Potini’s victory, the gang leader and the New Warrior depart in peace.

To sum up, these two films, especially The Dark Horse, draw a highly complex picture of gangs and New Warriors, as well as the rivalry and cooperation between them. The portrayal of gang violence does not serve only as an entertaining technique, as it is strongly incorporated in the representation of current Māori issues.

Ironic interplay between gangs and New Warriors: Boy

Boy is a somewhat autobiographical comedy written and directed by half-Maori Taika Waititi, who plays one of the major characters in the film: Alamein, the father. The setting of the film is a laidback rural area in 1984, in particular, Waihau Bay, the place where Taika Waititi grew up and the house where most of the film is set is actually his aunt’s house (IMDb 2017). Waititi admits that he loves Michael Jackson in his real life (Waititi 2010a, 10:20-10:34), just like the main character, the eleven-year-old Boy (James Rolleston). He also claims that some of the characters are based on the people that he met in his childhood.

The film was well-received in New Zealand, perhaps because there are several moments which people who grew up in rural areas in the 1980s can relate to (Dunleavy and Joyce 2011, 238). Critics emphasize that the film masterfully blends the local background with references to global culture such as E.T. (1982), Michael Jackson’s music video Thriller (1983), and the television series Dukes of Hazard ([1979-1985]; see Smith 2012; 2020).

Boy is an ironical portrayal of the minor criminal Alamein, who desires to be a member of a gang or, even better, to have a gang of his own. He sets up his own gang called Crazy Horses, which consists of only three people: him and two other, even more comic and pitiful petty criminals. What is more, no one else is interested to become a member, except for Boy and another kid from the neighbourhood. Boy lives in a house with his grandmother, cousins, a goat and his six-year-old brother Rocky (Te Aho Eketone-Whitu), because his father is in prison for robbery. His mother is not present in the film because she died while giving birth to Rocky. His friend Dynasty (Moerangi Tihore) is involved in growing marihuana for her dad, who is a proper gang member, which is indicated by a shot of his leather waistcoat with a patch early in the film.

The whole film is about a short period of time, a few days, when Boy’s grandmother goes to a funeral and unexpectedly his father enters Boy’s life again. Alamein is a reckless father, who returns home supposedly to spend ‘quality time’ with his kids, but primarily for a self-centred reason: to find a bag of money that he buried several years ago before he went to jail. The film portrays their ups and downs, the process of getting to know each other again, but mainly Alamein’s failure to be a father.

Some of the ironic humour in the film derives from the fact that Alamein takes his pathetic gang extremely seriously. He defines what it means to be a gang member to Boy by painting an idealistic picture, comparing such life to those of shoguns, samurais, and ‘renegades … someone who lives outside the law, but they’re still cool’ (Waititi 2010b, 22:14–22:21). Later on, however, he admits that ‘it’s more of an adult game’ (Waititi 2010b, 35:51). Except for the low number of its members, the gang has all the typical features: a patch, a hierarchy, and rules. Alamein establishes himself a president and even builds a ‘throne’ for himself; when he sits on it, however, the movie frame shows him with antlers (which are on the wall behind him), ridiculing his appearance. Their clubhouse is Alamein’s garage, where he lives.

However pathetic the gang is, it has an enormous, and mostly harmful, influence on Boy, who drinks beer at a party, steals marijuana for his father, and tries to smoke the butt of a joint at some point. He is not as responsible as usual and neglects the other children that he is supposed to look after in the family. Eventually, Dynasty’s father and other members of the proper gang beat up Alamein for the stolen marijuana and Boy perceives the true nature of his father. Boy returns to his family duties and becomes even more responsible than before. He improves his relationship with his younger brother Rocky, by saving him from his father’s aggression, and buries his goat Leaf, who was hit by his father’s car accidently. Alamein realizes his shortcomings as a father and even though he does not compensate for the damage he caused in the family’s life, he tries to solve the problems by leaving again. The film ends with a short moment of reconciliation between Alamein and Boy at the grave of the mother.

Boy’s story replicates to some extent coming-of-age stories where the protagonist changes from a wannabe gang member to a more mature person, undertaking the duties of a New Warrior, which happens, for example, in Broken and The Dark Horse. Boy rediscovers the necessity of ‘strong family support’ and ‘caring mentorship,’ which shape the lives of New Warriors and those of their relatives (Alfred 2009, 175). He is in conflict with his father Alamein, who offers an ironic depiction of a Māori gang leader. The character is neither strong nor brave; he does not look after his family or his comrades, as he is a coward who is not successful at fighting at all. Yet, the destructive influence which his lifestyle and ambitions have on his family and friends are also displayed: he uses violence against Boy several times and almost fully destroys the family. As Dunleavy and Joyce (2011, 236) observes, ‘the undertones of family neglect and violence are rarely far from the surface.’

Thus, in Waititi’s film, the devastating impact of gang life is still displayed, although it is somewhat downplayed by irony. In a way similar to certain films of ethnic cinema such as Turkish-German Short Sharp Shock and Asian-American Better Luck Tomorrow (2002), the simultaneously ironic and realistic representation of gangs helps the film to become entertaining while retaining a critical edge (see Hillenbrand 2008, 50–51).

Conclusions and caveats

The paper focused on the interaction between gang members and modern warrior figures, which are not the only significant Māori characters in contemporary cinema. As Hokowhitu (2004) observes, in films and literature both the male and female Māori (should) show a wider variety of characters in order to avoid stereotyping. Thus, it would be equally important to analyse, for example, the representations of Māori politicians (Whina), farmers (Ngati, The Strength of Water [2013], Mount Zion [2013], Mahana [2016]), sportsmen (Invictus [2009], Tits on a Bull, Ow What!), chefs (Broken English [1996]) and healers (The Price of Milk [2000], White Lies). Such characters, however, fall outside the scope of this article.

Our analysis has demonstrated that Māori-themed feature films combine the impacts of Indigenous ethnic culture and entertaining tendencies to appeal both to a local and global audience. First, they often feature gangs, which relate to a tradition both in the Hollywood movie industry and ethnic cinema. In a way similar to romanticized images in highly successful blockbusters such as Whale Rider, Indigenous gang members provide ethnic iconography as well as ‘a ticket to Hollywood, to international audiences’ (Joyce 2009, 248). They are picturesque elements of a ‘national culture’ which global markets celebrate (Brown 1999, 153). Second, Māori-themed films after the 1990s often depict an interplay between New Warriors and gang members.

In Once Were Warriors and Crooked Earth, gang members appear in a positive light to a certain extent as they intend to protect, and provide a foster family or whanau, for Māori characters. Other films follow the coming-of-age process of young or middle-aged characters who start as (wannabe) gang members, but later become influenced by the values of the New Warrior. Typical examples are Mana in The Dark Horse, Logan in Broken, and the protagonist in Boy.

Joining the gangs becomes a highly condemned choice in certain productions, especially in What Becomes of the Broken Hearted? and Broken. As the figure of the New Warrior is hardly visible, we come to the conclusion that the gory descriptions of gang violence primarily serve as entertaining techniques of popularization and commercialization in these two films. By contrast, The Dark Horse and Boy provide a much more complex interplay between gangs and New Warriors. In the former, although gang lifestyle is represented as a futile endeavour to provide support and protection, the New Warrior figure Potini and Vagrants Gisborne president Ariki are brothers who love each other and eventually find common ground. In Boy, Alamein and his friends personify the parodying images of gang members; yet, the destructive impacts of gang criminality and violence, which burden Boy’s family and friends, are also displayed here. In a way similar to certain migrant-themed films, such a mashup between satire and realism helps the production to balance ‘between ethnic conscience and the mainstream’ (Hillenbrand 2008, 51), local and global interests (Smith 2012; 2020).

Thus, from the selected perspective of our paper, Māori-themed films display Indigenous ethnic issues of the Māori tribes to a greater or lesser degree, while they simultaneously rely on global entertainment in their sometimes gory or romantic portrayal of gang violence.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Funding

This work was supported by Norway Grants [grant number CZ 09 7F16020]; Technical University of Liberec [grant number SGS21165].

Notes on contributors

Sandor Klapcsik

Sándor Klapcsik is an assistant professor at the Technical University of Liberec, in the Czech Republic.

Monika Bartoňová

Monika Bartoňová is a former student of the Technical University of Liberec.

Notes

1 This example of ‘Fourth Cinema’ revolves around New Warriors, featuring Rewi Marangai (Wi Kuki Kaa), an ambivalent character who in the beginning only chases personal success and courts Pākehā women in a Western-European society. By the end, he becomes a conscientious leader who supervises the publicity stunt against the museum in Berlin which keeps stolen Māori carvings. The other main character of Te Rua is Peter Huaka (Peter Kaa), a performance poet on tour in Berlin, whose art, behaviour and appearance is influenced by Māori tribal myth and culture. He decides to regain the artefacts, activating members of his tribe back at home in New Zealand. Rewi gradually becomes involved in their efforts to reclaim the carvings, using his professional connections and experience as an advocate. Eventually, the usage of force and civil disobedience is also needed, as the protestors need to take a few valuable items from the museum to bring attention to their struggle, which eventually becomes successful.

2 Eventually, of course, the portrayal of the ‘New Warrior’ can also become commercialized in Māori-themed films – as happens, for example, in the international blockbuster Whale Rider (see Jones 2003; Joyce 2009, 248; Smith 2012, 66, 68).

3 Forming a basic difference between Duff’s novel and the film adaptation, in the book, not only Jake and Beth but also Nig gets disillusioned by the gang’s activities. After the gang raids a house and beats up a mother, he does not see any difference between Jake’s family violence and the brutality of the gang. He comes to the conclusion that his dream of finding a Māori community ‘turned into a fucking nightmare’ (Duff 1994, 151). What is more, Nig eventually dies in a gang fight, in a way similar to the events described in What Becomes of the Broken Hearted?

4 The only exception from this is given by the plotline of Mulla Rota (Rawiri Paratene), a member of the Black Snakes, who, after released from prison, at some point gives money to hungry children on the streets, condemning the parents who do not look after their family.