Debate x NZIFF #4: Prime Minister

DEBATE X NZIFF | REVIEW | WEB EXCLUSIVE

Written by Caeden Tipler (they/them) | @caedentipler | Contributing Writer

In his opening speech, Producer Leon Kirkbeck called Prime Minister “a hard film to make.” This isn’t surprising, considering the film centres on the biggest tragedies of Jacinda Ardern’s time in office: the March 15 terrorist attack, the Whakaari/White Island eruption, and COVID-19. Little attention is given to the smaller wins of Labour’s time in office (abortion law reform is mentioned, and so is climate change, but not the Zero Carbon Act). While many of Labour’s non-crisis-related reforms still have lingering impacts in Aotearoa, it’s not what this film tells us Jacinda Ardern will be remembered for.

Post-screening, director Michelle Walshe told the audience what Ardern had told her when she started making the film. She wanted to see politicians humanised. After she saw the film for the first time, she said it was a hard watch but an accurate portrayal. I’ve seen online criticisms of this film that have called it a variation of a puff piece - but I disagree. If you have any connection to the events portrayed in the film, you will feel a very real emotional pull. It’s a hard watch for not just Ardern, but any New Zealander. As a younger member of Gen Z, it can be hard to stomach that this is the country I grew up in.

It’s not just the nationwide crises that lend the emotional pull, but the more personal ones, too. The scenes that humanise Ardern. The film opens with the Labour leadership crisis of 2017 and the long post-election wait to see who beloved populist Winston Peters will form a government with. He went with Labour, for better or for worse. The joyous moments of Jacinda Ardern’s daughter, Neve’s, first years are plagued by the misogynistic vitriol Ardern received online. Her work at the United Nations is overshadowed by the global eruption, both for and against the idea that a world leader would bring her baby there. This can become tiring to watch (god knows how Ardern felt.) Luckily, Neve and Ardern’s (future) husband Clarke Gayford dip in to offer comedic relief as required.

Interestingly, Clarke Gayford has cinematography credits. He told the audience at the post-screening Q&A that the film started because he said to himself, “someone should film this.” He utilised his background as a cameraperson to capture the intimate clips that would frame the documentary as a “behind the scenes” portrait. He also provides clips that make you feel increasingly sympathetic towards Ardern and himself. 

The other major player in the film is Ernest Shackleton. Jacinda Ardern uses his failed Antarctic expedition, but his ability to keep his entire crew alive in the harsh frozen desert, as a metaphor for Labour’s COVID response. Every time another 1940s BBC-style Antarctica clip came on screen, the film lost me. Maybe it will work for others! However, I found it out of place, jarring, and boring - the second most cringeworthy moment of the documentary. It was rivalled only by the cliché and unnecessary shots of Aotearoa landscapes that encroached on yet another one of our films.

While the film’s focus on crisis after crisis offers the emotional pull, it, of course, leaves a lot out. Too much out. Te Ao Māori is largely relegated to the scenes of Destiny Church protests and the anti-vax Parliament lawn occupation. To many of us, Ardern’s time in office was marked by Ihumatao and broader debates on honouring Te Tiriti. It is then disappointing for a film made here, especially one with so much international attention, to limit the Tino Rangatiratanga flag and protest haka to the realm of extremism. 

Nonetheless, the audience loved it. The anti-vax protestors (bet you missed them!) stayed outside the screening, and everyone inside seemed to be, at the very least, sympathetic to Ardern. The start and end were marked by huge cheers, and a scattered number of people performing a standing ovation. There was a particularly outstanding moment of audience unity where everyone booed ACT’s David Seymour while he told Parliament why we shouldn’t ban semi-automatic rifles post the March 15 attack. The gun control laws were passed near unanimously at the time, but are slowly, largely by ACT, being unravelled. 

Towards the end of the film, Ardern reflects on why she is resigning (“to bring down the temperature.”) Many of us will see people we know in her, and will be moved by her authenticity in the midst of a very stressful time. I doubt the film will change anyone's mind about her, but maybe it will bring a few people closer to a place of understanding.