Week 1: Hunt for the Wilderpeople

It’s week one. Forgive me as I figure this thing out as I go.

This was going to be a Little Women review, but everyone lost enthusiasm for Little Women since it was “too nice outside” and we should “be in the sun” and “socialise”. So instead, my first film of 2020 was Hunt for the Wilderpeople at the hastily-constructed family outdoor cinema.

First off, this 2016 masterpiece from Taika Waititi is excellent material for outdoor viewing experiences. During the opening, sweeping aerial shots of rainforest, the screen was aggressively buffeted by wind. By the time the snow had started falling onscreen, my little bro and I were under four blankets. Highly immersive.

Hunt for the Wilderpeople, based off the Barry Crump novel Wild Pork and Watercress, is about the explorations of sassy, ‘skux’ 13-year old Ricky Baker (Julian Dennison) and his grizzled, ex-con adoptive uncle Hec (Sam Neill). Set against the wilderness of rural NZ and balancing quirky comedy with poignant family story, the film absolutely blazed the NZ/AU box office – going shockingly under the radar over the pond.

Despite not always having the slow, trance-like feel of a character study, Hunt is all about its Wilderpeople, and Waititi sketches out some wonderful personalities. Julian Dennison is obviously the star, dancing and quipping his way through the many facets of Ricky’s adolescence – Waititi has demonstrated a real skill for drawing compelling and complex performances out of child actors, most recently in Jojo Rabbit (but more on that later?). Seasoned curmudgeon Sam Neill makes for a wonderful, understated foil to Dennison’s youthful quirky mania, building Hec into a character you feel deeply sorry for, but also would absolutely kill to go camping with.

The ensemble makes use of some other Waititi regulars, including Rhys Darby as a psycho bush man (is it a bush?? OR A MAN??) and the wonderful Rachel House as child welfare’s lead Terminator, Paula Hall, who will leave no child behind. The dialogue in this film absolutely crackles with life – it’s funny, devastating, and often both. Waititi’s cameo as a rambling priest is the paragon of his ‘tragicomedy’ style, a perfectly-timed, hilarious, devastating gift of a moment. I’d put it forward for best scene of the 2010s.

Full disclaimer, this is one of my favourite films of all time – it also, by coincidence, was the very first film we watched in screen studies at uni. On a fifth viewing (I know), it’s near impossible to see through fresh eyes – our sofa was quoting along for about 65% of the film. Instead, I relied on the fresh eyes of my English siblings, who I can only describe as gleefully entranced.

I also had new appreciation for some of the more under-the-radar one liners: “Out there, somewhere…beyond the cutty-grass…” is a new favourite.

Watching with a fresh audience also reminded me that, alongside his frivolity and irreverence, Waititi has an incredible talent to sucker-punch you with grief at any given time. This is a real, honest-to-god “I laughed, I cried, I laughed until I cried” experience, reinforced to me by the desperate shouts of “LUCY!!” every time things veered into touching territory.

A more layered review would probably make a vague attempt at identifying weaknesses, but honestly, Ricky and his gang of misfits completely captured my heart, and continue to do so every single time. 

It’s snarky but sincere, familiar without feeling derivative, and unique without feeling try-hard. In a word, majestical.

Starting strong with a 7/7.