Once Were Hobbits

Last night I watched Once Were Warriors, a 1994 film which tells the story of an urban Maori  family, and their problems with poverty, alcoholism, and domestic violence. The opening shot is especially striking, as we’re first presented with the sort of idyllic landscape we foreigners are used to seeing in films like The Last Samurai and the LotR trilogy, only for the camera to pull back and reveal it to be a billboard beside a roaring motorway. Granted, Terry Gilliam did much the same thing in Brazil, but his dystopia was a fiction... while, in this case, urban Auckland is all too real. With my pig ignorant grasp of geography in general, I did have a little trouble reconciling the two visions of New Zealand... but then, as ever, Reality is often more of a muddle than a strict dichotomy, right?

The film itself is very engaging, but I don’t want to get into spoilers, and I don’t have anything very intelligent to say about the subject matter that is addressed... obviously films about domestic abuse can generally be quite dispiriting, and there are some heartbreaking, gut-wrenching scenes in this film, but it ends on a fairly positive note that is well worth sticking around for. Apparently there’s a sequel, with some of the same cast members returning (most notably Temuera Morrison, who’s probably better know to Star Wars fans as Jango Fett, and his multiple clones), but it isn’t quite as well known or well-recieved as its predecessor. Both films are adapted from a trilogy of novels by a chap named Alan Duff, but they deviate slightly from their source material, as adaptations often must. According to Wiki, Duff is of mixed heritage, with both Maori and European ancestry, and his work tends to show a bias towards the more “civilised” and wealthier whitefolk. I haven’t read the books, and have only just realised there are actual cities on the island, so clearly I’m not in any position to judge. From what I can gather, watching documentaries and reading around the subject of disaffected indigenous populations, it’s always something of a moral and political quagmire... and not something that ignorant foreigners like myself are qualified to be blogging about! Nonetheless, as far as “civilisation” goes, it’s probably worth noting this little nugget of history, from my computer’s encyclopaedia: “Europeans started arriving in New Zealand in the late 1700's. In 1840, the Maori and the United Kingdom signed the Treaty of Waitangi. It gave the United Kingdom the right to govern New Zealand, and the British the right to live there. It guaranteed the Maori ownership and control of all their lands, forests, fish, and waters. It also granted them all the rights and privileges of British citizens. The early British immigrants did not respect the treaty and by 1900 had taken almost everything from the Maori.”

Ta_moko

Anyhoo, back to the slightly safer subject of surface details, I was particularly impressed by the tattoo work sported by some of the extras. I have a slightly anal, design-related issue with most modern tattoos, in that I prefer to see a clear and consistent theme, rather than a random sampling of styles and influences. I find it especially cringe-worthy when whitefolk get ink done in a language they can’t actually read... although I’m sure this is hilarious for the people who can read the tattoos, and know that some dumb Brit has just had the word “Potato” permanently marked on their body, where they wanted the word “Strength”. Clearly I’m no connoisseur, but I find the Maori facial markings (or Ta Moko) very beautiful, if not a tad intimidating... although that, no doubt, was the point back in old timey days. It fits the gang members perfectly, but raises an interesting question, as voiced by one of the central characters... should you wear your cultural identity on your skin, or in your heart? I’m not sure the two are mutually exclusive, as such, but you might have a harder time finding a bank job with a full facial tattoo... unless, perhaps, it incorporated the bank’s logo...

According to Wikipedia: “Receiving moko constituted an important milestone between childhood and adulthood, and was accompanied by many rites and rituals. Apart from signalling status and rank, another reason for the practice in traditional times was to make a person more attractive to the opposite sex.” And I can certainly see how that would work, as I was quite taken by the female gang-member who had her lips and chin tattooed, with the “kauae”. I think it’s a strong look, and I think it’s a good look... and what’s more, there’s a strong tradition behind it. “Tradition” is something of a mixed bag, of course... one could argue that the British Slave Trade, and the world-wide subjugation of women, were “traditions”, but that doesn’t mean we have to continue them, once we realise that they’re harmful and wrong. Still, some perfectly decent and respectable traditions can get lost along the way, as the pressure to Conform drains all the colour and variety out of various Cultures. You won’t catch me wearing woad these days, of course, but then there’s a definite difference there in terms of the artistry involved... and the pain involved, I presume. I’ve never had a tattoo and (to the best of my knowledge) I’ve never been a Maori, so this is all just subjective babble, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with appreciating Art where you see it.