USB stick comes to sticky end
New Zealand, so not only did we hire a Samoan director to shoot a sequence in Samoan, but included another vignette from a New Zealand-born Samoan perspective that is set in Auckland.
‘‘We thought that was a very relevant and important perspective to pursue.’’
As with Waru, Warkia and McNaughton also placed a series of ‘‘creative restrictions’’ on their film-makers.
Each segment had to be a maximum of 10 minutes; be focused on female empowerment through culture; feature the same central character – but at an age 10 to 12 years different from the one before and after it in the final order of stories; include water as a visual metaphor; and be shot in one take – where possible.
‘‘We used to call those nonnegotiables, but we thought that term was a bit harsh,’’ McNaughton says, before Warkia chimes in with the reasoning behind the one-shot approach and other ‘‘restrictions’’.
‘‘It means no-one can change the edit on them later on – they really do have full control.
‘‘I also think a collaborative, collective voice is something that is really important to us, and elevates what you want to talk about.
‘‘I know it’s not the only way to make a film, but we’ve found it’s really effective, particularly for indigenous kaupapa.’’
However, McNaughton admits they were ‘‘a bit looser’’ on the one-shot demand this time.
‘‘We wanted to have the flexibility if needed if we ran into any problems with the island shoots and all the travel involved.’’
He paid tribute to the fantastic crew who managed the incredibly tight six-week shooting schedule across the eight islands, while Warkia gave thanks to even higher powers.
‘‘I have to say the weather gods and the island gods were smiling on us, because at any point it could have fallen over and we had very little room for error.
‘‘We travelled with 17 crew and pretty much became a family by the end of it.
‘‘What was really wonderful was being greeted and welcomed by the village or people of the film-maker – that was just incredible, wonderful and life-changing.’’
When asked what lessons the pair learned from making Waru (which premiered at the 2017 Toronto Film Festival and made almost $400,000 at the Kiwi boxoffice) that they were able to put into practice on Vai, McNaughton has an answer ready.
‘‘When you’re working with that many people in a creative capacity, you can always improve on communication. It is like having a family,’’ McNaughton says.
‘‘You’re going to have your conflicts and your moments of joy, but to keep it all running, the communication was a massive factor and what we learned on Waru was where and how we can communicate information in the best way possible.
‘‘We also learned that we needed a bigger budget,’’ he says.
Part of Vai’s ‘‘bigger budget’’ was obtaining production finance from the New Zealand Film Commission, clearly helped by the success of Waru.
All nine film-makers plus Warkia have made the trip to Berlin for Vai’s premiere, with seven hopefully making the journey to Texas next month for its North American debut at the more eclectic South By Southwest festival, the gathering that helped launch last year’s Kiwi comedy hit The Breaker Upperers.
While the Vai writers and directors describe the film as ‘‘a way forward that makes it possible to honour those who came before without becoming trapped in the past’’, McNaughton hopes viewers around the globe see it as a window into Pacific Island culture and ‘‘the power and strength of women within these individual cultures’’.
Warkia agrees, saying the film showcases how Polynesian traditions influence things on a ‘‘personal, community and global level’’.
But she also believes it portrays the ‘‘complicated relationships’’ Pasifika women have ‘‘with New Zealand, our own islands and our families’’. ‘‘It’s a celebration of our connectedness,’’ she says.
will make its New Zealand debut at the opening night of next month’s Ma¯ ori Land Film Festival in O¯ taki, before opening in select cinemas nationwide on April 4. NEWS of an Invercargill woman’s USB stick being found in working order after beng buried in leopard seal poo has created headlines throughout the world.
The poo, taken off Oreti Beach, near Invercargill, in December 2017, had been in a freezer at the National Institute of Water and Atmospheric Research (Niwa) in Wellington and was thawed during the past fortnight. On Tuesday night, as Amanda Nally, pictured, watched a television news item about the stick and footage from it, she thought: ‘‘gosh, that looks familiar’’. In December 2017, Nally put the video footage of sea lions in the south Catlins onto the stick. Four days later she was at Oreti Beach with the stick in her pocket. ‘‘I had no idea I had dropped the USB – it’s favourite footage so I’ve got it backed up all over place,’’ Nally said. Niwa NIWA staff told Nally the stick was surrounded by feathers and small bird bones. ‘‘They thought it may have been . . . picked up by a seabird, which was in turn eaten by a leopard seal,’’ Nally said.
Niwa media adviser Susan Pepperell said news organisations all over the world had been in contact. ‘‘It’s gone viral in Germany.’’
Niwa’s Twitter post had received 1.5 million impressions.