NZIFF Review: Kiri and Lou Go Raaa!

WEB EXCLUSIVE | REVIEW | NZIFF 

Written by Trevor Pronoso |  Letterboxd: @CleverGurl | Instagram: @trev.pro | Contributing Writer

Kiri and Lou Go Raaa! (2026)

dir. Harry Sinclair, Antony Elworthy

Aotearoa New Zealand, 61 mins

I think back to the previous animated film screening I attended, Footrot Flats: The Dog's Tail Tale, and wonder if such a dedicatedly nostalgic (older) audience for that film will be the case for Kiri and Lou 40 years from now. Though Footrot Flats is markedly more vulgar in content, I reckon its cult status has less to do with its ruggedly honest 'kiwiana' qualities than with its repeated syndication on New Zealand television, much like how we've got a dedicated 24/7 channel for Seinfeld on TVNZ+. Kiwi children in the 80s were not necessarily overwhelmed with content compared to today's youth. However, it puts into perspective how cinema's archaic prestige motivates comic book and children's show animators to legitimate their artistic/aesthetic credentials through the feature-film format. Or—for a less cynical perspective—cinema provides a ritualistic excuse for families to take their children to the movies and spend time together that comics fall short of, and what television has disastrously proven to be the opposite (i.e. parents leaving on the TV or the iPad for their child to stare at so they'll stop whining).

It's why I personally found all the pre-show ambience more interesting than the film itself—families shuffling to their seats as their little ones eagerly race across the aisles, the whimsical chit-chat of kids to their parents about where they're going for lunch, the cooing and whining of toddlers cradled by their mothers on one hand, and free Kiri and Lou stickers on the other hand. The introduction to the film given by Hepi Mita alongside the directors Harry Sinclair & Antony Elworthy felt like a wholesome christening of how invaluable shows like Kiri and Lou are—and by extension, the production and screening of Aotearoa-produced, family-oriented movies—in fostering emotional safe spaces for children to express their honesty and as sites for reciprocal listening and dialogue amongst their peers and parents alike. There was a kid who kept roaring the film's title, "Raaa!", when the slideshow of NZIFF film stills played, and the audience laughed in response. And as the film's denouement was greeted by the crowd's roaring applause, all the children flocked to the Wintergarden downstairs to participate in the post-screening activities of clay sculpting and drawing (replete with a DJ performing a mini-rave, with the film playing on an LED screen behind him). I doubt the children will remember the film or any of these activities as they grow older. Still, I could tell by the look of the family I was sitting beside—especially the father, leaning forward, his hands covering his face, holding back the tears and sniffles as Kiri cries alone atop a rock, having just alienated her only friend, Lou, by biting him—that parents need films like Kiri and Lou Go Raaa! more than they think.

I left the screening feeling cleansed and uplifted for the busy day ahead (I attended three film screenings that day). On the way home from the airport, my dad picked me up after the last of my screenings had finished. I told him about the films I've seen and what I was gonna write about them. He didn't inquire any further, but I could tell that he genuinely enjoys the few occasions we spend alone together, even if it's for a banal excuse like getting a ride home. He may admit he can't understand the film reviews I write for Craccum or Debate, but he still reads them nonetheless. He needs me more than I think I need him.