So, where the bloody hell is Temuka?
. . . and so, thursday the 24th september I caught the 7:12am featherston train to wellington, bags safely stowed in the rear carriage, me comfortably ensconced next to some fellow who didn’t even bother to acknowledge my presence. The conductor, ticket clipper, whatever they are called these days, railway inspector, railway host, whatever, well he made up for it. Off we trundled, I say trundled because the kiwi train experience is not a smooth ride, old carriages, crappy rails, whatever. However, Lake Wairarapa in the early morning light totally made up for it and then through the tunnel and out into the Maymorn light and all the way to Wellie, my birthplace. I had checked the rail schedule/timetable whatever, over the internet and printed it out, I didn’t realize until I was at the airport that one ticket would have taken me the whole nine yards, Feathie Station to Wellington International Airport. What a great service and the region has a great deal to be grateful for. I never did that in all the years I lived in the US. Featherston Rail Station is but a 5 minutes day dreaming walk from my home. Airport baggage check in is but 2 minutes from where the bus dropped me off. 2 hours door to door, not at all bad considering I waited half an hour for the bus in Wellie. A somewhat cramped and bumpy flight at 26000’, no view, total cloud cover, no communication with the people sitting either side of me in the cramped seats. I was always lead to believe Kiwi’s were a friendly bunch . . . yeah right!
My friend Sandie collected me from airport, we cruised Christchurch, photographed my dad’s burial spot on the Avon River in Hagley Park, enjoyed a coffee, cruised through the Cathedral and smiled at the commercial nature of the church in this day and age, drove toward Little River, stopping at the beach cottages of Birdling Flat and smiling while trying not to laugh out loud aka lol, watching a camper van try and drive over a beach track that was very clearly marked as 4 Wheel Drive Only. OOPS!
Oops indeed, as we could see it digging itself deeper and deeper into the shingle as it spun wheels hopelessly. Not a good sign. But Birdling Flat is truly beautiful, the real kiwi batch beach, the color of the ocean a creamy blue green, crystal clear waves breaking and not a place to swim. The batches in various states or disrepair or expensive renovation, a fast disappearing Kiwi Iconic lifestyle as money talks and people walk :)
Little River is a glorious old settlement and Sandie’s sister Norma, farms peonies and black faced sheep, sadly the weather was socked in with rain clouds and so the colors were rather muted but still, it’s a glorious spot. I managed to keep my camera in it’s case and simply enjoyed the experience. The afternoon was spent preparing dinner for Norma’s birthday and it was great being able to observe siblings working around each other. I miss that, the family connection but, as mine are far flung, for me it is but a dream.
The birthday party was smaller than expected but it was certainly lively with Norma, Sandie, Margaret and Me. Great company, great dialogue, good ideas.
The truth well told, far away from the stullifying political correctness that is killing the great kiwi spirit.
Friday morning and still no sun but tea and toast made up for it and out amongst the farm animals, fed chooks and got to know the black lambs. Seriously cute but I am not a farmer, as much as I love the great outdoors.
Packed, we drove South to Timaru via Rakaia, Ashburton and Temuka where we checked into the old Temuka Pub. In Timaru we explored the harbor and coast, the cemetery, city streets, cafes, shopped for winter woolies and then headed north to Temuka and had dinner at an Irish Pub, great food, great atmosphere and quite remarkable the conviviality of a small New Zealand town, quite different from my North Island experiences. It appeared or at least seemed to me that the people have more sense of community on the mainland, Pounamu. Maybe it’s my vivid imagination but somehow I don’t thinks so as every where I went, everyone I spoke to, it appeared there was a willingness to engage, to share.
Up early Saturday we found a great cafe behind the main shops, breakfasted and then explored Temuka by foot, finding many of the places and people who populate the film I had edited and the reason for me being in the South.
No Petrol | No Diesel, a full length independent feature film made on the smell of a very, very small oily rag, NZ$40000.00! Written and directed by Stef Harris a Christchurch writer/policeman. I was invited to edit only after it was shot and editing had already started. I had a great time taking it somewhere rather than where it was. That is what I love about film editing, pure story telling and flexibility when & if, the producer & director & editor trust the relationship and the process, with Stef this was certainly the case and it was certainly a great relationship. I hope we get to do it again, soon :).
Anyhow, here we were, invited to a Red Carpet Civic Reception and a screening of the film at the Theatre Royal in Timaru, followed by dinner back in Temuka.
This is my first experience of this kind in the land I left 45 years ago.
As we explored Temuka on foot, we found Devlin Motors, which features in the Film. Fortuitously we met and enjoyed a great conversation with Anthony at Devlin Motors. It was quite amazing to simply bump into him on a Saturday morning and have an in-depth discussion of small town politics and the inventiveness of kiwis. The other person in the discussion, his name sadly escapes me, is building a bicycle based on the original plans of ‘Mad’ Richard Pearse who, arguably made the first manned flight in the World, certainly the first in the British Commonwealth, back in 1903. Some would have it that Orville and Wilbur Wright were the first but then I am a Kiwi and so, of course it had to be ‘Mad’ Richard who was first. I was once married to Christy, whose father Jack Carlson, worked at Wright Patterson Air Force base in Dayton Ohio. Jack was lead design engineer on some large bomber, a B50 or something. I used to love teasing him about Richard Pearse and of course he rose to the bait.
If there is one thing I love about my homeland, it is the inventive #8 fencing wire attitude that is still to be found away from the Beehive and Auckland. I could have stood talking to Anthony and his friend for ages. He also gave us directions to the Richard Pearse Memorial and so we drove out there and on to Opihi and Hanging Rock, discovering, totally by chance the film shooting locations of No Petrol | No Diesel. We lunched at Opihi Vineyard, getting into a great conversation with the owner, Alan Lambie. South Canterbury’s only Vineyard.
Back at the Temuka Hotel after showering, shaving, dressing, prepping and primping for the evenings celebration, we joined a large party of Film Crew and Actors assembled in the Hotel bar, it was great to finally put names to faces. At 4:30, on the dot, we were bussed to Timaru and the Theatre Royal for a red carpet welcome and civic reception. It was an amazing turn out of the people and politicians of Timaru and South Canterbury in support of a film shot with such a small budget but with an enormous passion and professionalism. As the Mayoress stated, a small independent Hollywood Film is made for 2 million! No Petrol | No Diesel was made for about 1% of that!
I was in two minds but finally decided to take my camera and so filmed the reception, even though I felt I was hiding behind the camera but also managed to interact with many, many people. I was the only one to record the proceedings unfortunately but I now have an invaluable record. A gift to the producers no doubt.
I was very generously congratulated by cast and crew for my editing, I also, somewhat embarrassingly, found out that the director referred to me as “Good Richard” as against “ . . . “ but that is another story :) for another day, maybe.
The film was screened to sustained applause and then we were all bussed back to Temuka for dinner and drinks provided by the Timaru Council, who I found, had invested in the film. A great peice of PR. Hopefully the film will be accepted into the Sundance Film Festival set for early next year, fingers crossed please.
My table companions were Anthony from Devlin Motors, the location for much of the filming, and his parents who were simply amazing and totally inspiring as an old farming couple. Alive, intelligent, witty and full of sparkle and love for each other. I could spend days listening to their stories. I also enjoyed a great chat with the director Stef over drinks back at the pub. It seems strange to say that but Stef is based in Christchurch as a working policeman and I am based in Featherston as a sometime working . . . and so we had only spent 3 days together during the editing, Stef would fly and drive north to view where I was taking his project, such was the level of trust we held each other in, thank god I delivered a good film :) !
Otherwise he could have had me arrested! She-it, didn’t think of that before.
Early Sunday we cruised Temuka and back to Opihi Vineyard for brunch and then, at the invitation of the owner, we tramped over wet soggy paddocks to explore 800 year old maori carvings, shooting hundreds of digital images, the light was perfect with flat overcast skies. It was an amazing experience. A limestone gully that is remote and challenging to get to. Very little sign of human interference.
Next morning we drove to Christchurch, stopping at Rakaia for lunch on the go. I just managed to catch the plane as I had forgotten to reset my watch to daylight hours or whatever the stupid politicians call it. We landed in Wellie after a great flight to be met by Emily, drove to Cuba Street for coffee and bought fresh fish at Wellington Trawler, drove home over the hill and relaxed over dinner.
It was a very surprising and very enjoyable weekend spent with old friends, new friends and the accolades of a job well done. I can only hope that more film will come my way and that I continue to share my vast overseas film experience with kiwis who are open to it.
I say that last as a reflection of my own point of view as there appears to be quite large divides through out New Zealand society and the film industry in particular.
First there is the Peter Jackson aka Hollywood Film industry which, based on my own personal experience does no great favors to local independents, albeit providing world class facilities, at a price :) and then there is the real New Zealand film industry of small passionate companies and film makers spread far and wide and finally, and disappointingly, there is the New Zealand Television industry which appears, again based on my own personal experience :), not to support or encourage New Zealand film makers.
Of course there are those, who WILL remain nameless :), who appear to live continuously off public funding, thus denying others access to film funding. Just my observation and totally open to being challenged. The British who I don’t totally trust, appear to have a system of funding that works, there is another essay I guess.
It was a great weekend. No two ways about it!
Cheers, Richard.
