Hunt for the Wilderpeople
(2016)
(SPOILERS) The accolades for Taika Waititi’s
latest are of a piece with those for his previous picture, What We Do in the Shadows, in that they’re slightly over-effusive. Hunt for the Wilderpeople strikes
unqualified gold with the odd couple relationship between Julian Dennison’s
rotund juvenile delinquent Ricky and Sam Neill’s gruff bushman Hec, or “Uncle”
as he objects to Ricky calling him. However, it’s less convincing when it comes
to Waititi’s erratic comedy quality control. He’s more Paul Hogan than Monty Python.
Maybe such broadness of temperament is an
Oz/Kiwi thing, or maybe it’s simply that Waititi’s always a draft or two from
honing his material as precisely as he might. It could also be, without going
all Mary Whitehouse on Hunt, that there’s
a central awkwardness in what passes itself of as a family movie running a central
plot motor wherein Uncle is accused of paedophilia (or being “a molesterer”). Even the Carry On… movies would have blanched at
the scene in which Ricky is assumed to be describing how he was forced to
masturbate Hec. Oh, those earthy New Zealanders and their loveable lewdness! If
Victor Salva had been passing by the set, no doubt Waititi would have convinced
him to cameo, just for added yuks.
There are jarring tonal shifts throughout,
though, as the picture lurches from a poignant scene in which Hec loses Bella
to Waititi delivering an indulgent (and not very funny) cameo as the minister
at her funeral. Elsewhere, he seems fixated on lobbing us copious pop culture
references (The Terminator, The Lord of the Rings, Thelma and Louise), but as randomly as
Zuckers and Abrams rather than the at least germane manner Pegg and Wright
would, while a stark rites of passage sees Hec putting down his beloved pooch.
It’s almost as if Waititi’s a little shy of
letting the grounded, relationship side of the tale tell itself and feels obliged
to pep it up in any way he can. Which is a shame, as this is definitely a case
of less being more. It doesn’t help that, most of the time, the gags are
verging on the second rate. At points too, he will compound this by feeding a
character a line because it’s funny, not because they’d say it (Ricky’s “Too soon?” after suggesting Hec
remarries), or allow a scene to pass purely because it’s been through his
random reference generator (a vision of the ever-phallic ‘80s Flake advert anachronistically
materialises before Ricky’s eyes when he meets Kahu, which can be added to the
pile of inappropriate moments – if you were nursing the illusion this was a
family movie). Generally, the sketch comedy routines are much more successful
in the improvised vibe of Shadows,
where hit and miss is par for the course. Here, his bungling social services
worker (Rachel House) and redneck hunters tend to miss. Waititi even has Dennison
administer a passing-out pratfall at one point, which indicates he’s been
watching some kids’ TV for research
too.
And yet, the Hec-Ricky relationship is
genuinely touching (not in a Jimmy Savile sense, although that’s just the kind
of gag Waititi would have cracked), and the early scenes with Rima Te Wiata as
Bella succeed so profoundly in establishing her as a huge-hearted, kindly soul,
that we’re entirely on board with these two lost ones making a fist of things. Sure,
the template for Juvie Ricky just needing someone who will accept him and
understand him is broad brush, but such uncynical sincerity is entirely
appropriate for a kids’ movie. Just not the proliferation of child molestation jests.
Once the manhunt is well underway, Waititi
loses focus on his trajectory rather, introducing Rhys Darby in one of his
lesser cameos (I do like his bushman
outfit, though) and a car chase that may have been a calling card to Marvel
(although I’ve yet to be convinced of his blockbuster chops) but feels more
like it’s there because referencing another movie is all he can think of for a
big finale (which it doesn’t really need anyway).
Neill, who is also on board for Thor Ragnarok, has maybe his best big
screen role since Dean Spanley, and
it can’t be understated how much he makes Hunt
for the Wilderpeople worthwhile for all its rocky passages, effortlessly inscribing
it with heart and gravitas. Dennison makes up what he lacks in range and timing
with enthusiasm, as the key quality is his strong chemistry with his elder. Maybe
Waititi should take on a writing partner (I wonder if the better gags in Shadows didn’t come from Jermain
Clement), to lend his screenplays that extra polish. Then he might make a
really great movie. A majestical one.
Agree? Disagree? Mildly or vehemently? Let me know in the comments below.
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