
‘This never happens': Bailey Poching on getting cast in Netflix's North of North
The comedian and actor takes us through his life in television.
It was on a Monday morning that actor and comedian Bailey Poching recorded his audition for Netflix's North of North, describing himself as being 'a hair's breadth' from throwing in the towel and heading back into hospitality. He sent his tape in, and got a reply that afternoon asking if he could audition in his own accent. By Tuesday, he had a Zoom meeting with Netflix and the showrunners. By Wednesday, he had got the job. Less than a week later, he was shooting his first scene in the Arctic Canadian territory of Nunavut in -40 degree conditions.
'I think I'll be telling that story for the rest of my life,' Poching laughs. 'It was like trying to appreciate the feeling of winning the lottery in real time. We romanticise this happening, but this never happens for actors.' For the next three months, Poching played Colin, a radio DJ looking to find love in the arctic circle in Netflix's first Canadian production – and the first show of its kind to be centered around the indigenous Inuk community. 'It felt like capturing something really special, and it was really cool to be even peripheral to that,' he says.
Poching, who is Māori and Samoan, says he learned a lot about story sovereignty from being a part of the groundbreaking series. 'I remember asking the showrunners for advice on making indigenous TV shows and they were like 'you will have an easier time, because at least there's a precedent for indigenous film and TV in New Zealand',' he says. 'There was a sense of reckoning with the fact that, in our position as Pacific and Māori storytellers, we do have more opportunities than some of our indigenous whānau around the world to make television – even if there's still not heaps.'
Closer to home, Poching is a part of another important onscreen kōrero in Don't, TVNZ's new big issue comedy series. In it, comedian Bubbah is joined by a host of funny friends to interrogate the big issues facing rangatahi today. Poching's episode is all about marriage, including interviewing university students and rest home residents alike about their attitudes towards it. 'The title is quite provocative, but Don't really holds space for so many different cultural and social perspectives on what marriage represents, the origins of it and how we feel about it now,' he says. 'There's no sense of judgment in it at all.'
A lot of that, he says, comes down to host Bubbah's own curiosity about the world. 'She has such an interesting lens and so much to say, but she's also an incredible listener.' Taking a leaf out of the beloved comedian's book, we carefully listened to Poching's eclectic life in television, including Scottish Wipe Out for kids and how Coca-Cola made him famous in Australia.
My earliest TV memory is… I spent the first 19 years of my life in the UK, and so my TV memories are of CBBC, the children's BBC channel, and a show called Balamory. The jingle really sticks in my head – ' what's the story in Balamory, wouldn't you like to know?' It's one of those things that I'll say to myself, but then people here don't really know what I'm talking about. We also had lots of VHS tapes of The Wiggles, and they did a crossover episode with the crocodile hunter Steve Irwin. It was like Avengers: Endgame.
The show I would rush home from school to watch was… I watched so much TV as a kid. Superhero cartoons were huge for me – X Men, Spider Man, Fantastic Four. There was a game show called Raven that was like Wipe Out, but fantasy themed and for kids. The host was called Raven and he wore a feathered cloak and had a big staff. If a kid failed a challenge, he would like place his staff on the kid's shoulder, and then they disappeared. It was the most terrifying thing – that kid just applied to be on a TV show, now he's vanished.
My first time on television was… A Coca-Cola commercial, just before Covid. I was playing an Uber Eats driver and I appear for two seconds at the end. Honestly, because of the way TV commercials work, that really helped me out through Covid. I didn't realise it played in Australia as well, so I had family sending me photos and it was a huge moment of pride. Now, I don't know how I would feel about doing a Coca-Cola commercial, but I needed that at the time.
My favourite NZ TV ad is… This was such a phenomenon for me moving here, when I realised that a lot of these local ads have vice-like grip on people of a certain generation. I remember Ghost Chips was huge on YouTube. The 'do it yourself' kid tradies were also pretty big in my house because I have a dad who grew up in New Zealand and a mum who grew up in Australia. Any kind of recognition of those two countries was always nice.
My TV guilty pleasure is… Any YouTube show where celebrities eat food, so things like Hot Ones and the Angela Hartnett and Nick Grimshaw podcast Dish. I'll line up a bunch of those while I'm making food or cleaning up and just watch celebrities eating food. I love food, and I'm interested in celebrities as well. They are kind of like the modern talk show.
A TV moment that haunts me is… Anything from the David Tennant Doctor Who era, which had a lot of really scary stuff in it. I remember there were these monsters that had pig faces and human bodies, or one big brain with a single eye and all these tentacles. It traumatised me – I asked my brother to wait outside the bathroom while I was showering, because I was so scared.
My favourite TV character is… Mark Corrigan from Peep Show. Word for word, some of the funniest dialogue maybe ever put on television. I have a deep affection and appreciation for cringe humour and he's a character whose whole purpose is putting his foot in his mouth while also having that common trope of unearned confidence and being so certain of himself. He's so smart, he's done everything he was told to do growing up, and he's still a failure. It's so poetically funny.
My favourite TV project I've ever been involved in is… North of North is a very special one because of the indigenous kaupapa. It feels like such a triumph to have that story on TV, and to be even peripheral to it was such an honour. But I have to make a special mention to Kid Sister, because Simone Nathan was kind enough to give me that opportunity and I had a blast.
A TV project I wish I could be involved in is… I always romanticise the lifestyle of an SNL writer, where you pitch on Monday, and then you're up all Tuesday night writing the silliest stuff. And I feel like I've seen a picture of Bobby Moynihan smoking a cigarette out a window and they're all there with Bill Hader and Seth Meyers. This idea of working with your closest, funniest friends would be my dream. That, or doing a voice on a superhero cartoon.
My controversial TV opinion is… We should be making weirder television and taking more creative risks. I think there's so much space for us to explore the weirder stories of New Zealand, rather than packaging up something neat for a global audience. There's a lot of idiosyncrasies and dark little stories for us to tell, and not just in the grim murder mystery way. I think there's so much to explore still in our underrepresented communities, and I dream of seeing abstract, surreal, artistic television made here.
A TV show I will never watch, no matter how many people tell me I should is… The White Lotus is becoming that for me. I remember, with season one, seeing that it was a show about privilege, set in Hawaii, and that was the cast? I think this trend of shows about people with too much privilege is hopefully curving downward, because the more seasons it gets, the more it's too much homework now to catch up on. I'm sure it's actually incredible, but something about that initial idea turned me away from it.
The last thing I watched on television was… The first season of Severance, which was really good. I got told to catch up before season two started, so I watched the whole of season one on a plane and it was gripping – I was totally locked in. Interesting craft, interesting filmmaking decisions, interesting writing decisions, and all just carried by great performance and production design. Well-crafted TV.
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1News
an hour ago
- 1News
'It tested us' – the Tipenes on pain, joy and a new series
Francis and Kaiora Tipene on harsh times, the cure for anger, the joy of tamariki, Paris, Tonga and their new series of The Casketeers which premieres Wednesday. The Tipenes were in Paris, just the two of them, on a romantic trip with no work, no camera crew, not one of their seven children present. But by day three, Francis Tipene wanted to leave. 'It had been a 36-hour flight to get there,' says his wife, Kaiora. 'We hadn't even been there two nights and he started to pine for our daughter. He said, 'let's go back to our kids'. And so after a couple more days, they did. Francis agrees it was a long way to go, just to turn around. But after seven sons (he has one from a previous relationship, six with Kaiora), 'I finally got the daughter and man, that changed me.' Now almost two, Ngawaiata has just started Kōhanga reo. 'She was counting at 11 months,' says Francis. 'Tahi, rua... And English too. All these things just make all my problems go away.' ADVERTISEMENT Ah yep, problems. Since before Ngawaiata was born, the Tipenes have been dealing with big, dreadful, public problems. First stop is Tonga in the new series launching Wednesday, June 11. (Source: TVNZ) To recap: Last month their long-term employee at Tipene Funerals, Fiona Bakulich, was sent to prison for interfering with human remains and obtaining money by deception. The victims, all grieving families, were subjected to experiences ranging from the distressing (lifting the lid of a loved one's coffin to discover the metal lining they'd paid for was absent), to the financially gutting (Bakulich took a total of more than $16,000 from families, charging them for various bogus fees and fines as well as products, such as the metal liners, they didn't receive.) Fiona Bakulich, a former employee of Tipene Funerals (Source: 1News) The revelations of the trial were heavy, the coverage thorough and not always accurate (there were no bodies placed in rubbish bags). And while the Tipenes grappled with a sense of betrayal from someone they'd considered a sister and a tuakana, they were also subjected to harsh scrutiny and public judgement themselves. Why hadn't they seen what was going on, checked for it, acted sooner? The media asked the questions and social media scrambled to provide the answers. The comments got ugly, says Kai. 'In a way it's a good thing. It's teaching me that I don't have to please everybody. If you see the show, my husband and I are all about people pleasing.' For a business and a TV brand built on light humour, deep respect and te ao Māori, the case was a lot to come back from. ADVERTISEMENT 'When it came to the process side of things, we knew how to deal with it,' says Kaiora. 'But when it came to the emotional side of it? Nah. As a couple, 'it certainly tested us," she says. "I hope at some point we look back and go yeah well that was one ugly phase..." Francis and Kaiora Tipene gave their first interview to TVNZ's Marae. (Source: Marae) 'When your business has been misconstrued in the public eye, you are judged and you start not liking yourself and it's easy to get lost,' she says. 'You start losing control of everything. How can I give to my staff and my tamariki if I'm not right? I could feel myself crumbling and going to the person who I lean on and he was crumbling... I thought, man one of us has got to keep it together or we're both going to fall.' Kaiora is driving and talking to 1News on the phone. Later we also talked to Francis, who was no less frank. The experience was his first real insight into depression, he says. 'I never thought I'd be one of those people, in bed, close the curtains, 'don't talk to me'. But when your face is plastered in the Herald for one week straight, it's like wow... ADVERTISEMENT Francis and Kaiora Tipene with some people they met in Vanuatu. (Source: TVNZ) 'I'm grateful that my wife is such a strong lady. 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At the funeral home there was a grieving family and Frances was asked to do a prayer. It made him feel human again. 'Because I'd been feeling like the devil, stuck at home in bed.' So their work as funeral directors continued, but what about the show? Would there be another season of the internationally successful Casketeers? ADVERTISEMENT There would. The seventh season launches on Wednesday and takes a fresh form with the Casketeers travelling around the world, learning how other cultures deal with death. For the emotionally struggling Tipenes, it was a tonic. 'The production company were so understanding,' says Kaiora. 'They'd say 'today's newspapers are tomorrow's fish 'n' chip papers!'.' Kaiora and Francis Tipene in Canada. (Source: Supplied) Canada, India, Vanuatu, Japan and – most meaningfully for Francis – Tonga. He'd never been there but his grandparents on his dad's side were both Tongan. 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You fly off and it's an adventure.' ADVERTISEMENT Then you fly home, and hell awaits? 'Oh yes,' says Francis. 'I'd hear 'prepare the cabin for landing', and I'd think, oh gosh, here we go.' Even now, he wrestles with uncomfortable emotions. The depression has gone but bouts of anger have taken its place. 'When you're made out to be someone you're not and you have to wait until it's all over for the truth to come out. The anger comes in my quiet times. I'm sitting there eating lunch and, oh, I'm angry again.' The cure, he says, is deep breaths and taking a walk. 'You think what the heck is a walk going to do? It does a lot.' And then there are the kids. 'They don't care, they've got basketball, rugby... that's helped us move forward.' Ngawaiata has been a beautiful distraction through most of the ordeal - she was born five weeks early in 2023, the evening her parents returned from a painful meeting with one of the families affected by Bakulich's crimes. 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NZ Herald
8 hours ago
- NZ Herald
Runway Show PAPA Returns To Spotlight Weaving & Encourage Preservation
PAPA, a runway display of woven wearable arts, is returning for its sophomore showing in Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland. Co-curator and weaver Beronia Scott tells Madeleine Crutchley about the kaupapa, her learnings through raranga and PAPA's purpose of preservation. Intricate and innovative clothing woven from harakeke, tivaevae and fast fashion waste will take to the runway today in Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland, as PAPA returns to Kāhui St David's community space. The showcase, a one-day celebration, will feature woven garments by Māori and tauiwi practitioners modelled alongside live performances, DJ sets and servings of kai. Co-curator and artist Beronia Scott (Ngāti Whātua Ōrākei) explains the show aims to platform the craft, encourage whānau to spotlight their mahi toi and educate audiences unfamiliar with raranga (weaving). The title of the event takes its name from the Earth Mother (Papatūānuku), and draws attention to the connection between weaving and te taiao (the natural world). 'That's quite a big genre to look at,' Beronia tells Viva. Last year, this encouraged artists to examine the origins of their materials and those that might produce harm to the environment where they grow. A memorable garment for Beronia, which won the People's Choice Award, had white plastic replacing the natural fibres traditionally used for raranga – it was called 'Plastic Invasion'. This year, Beronia says materials are even more diverse: recycled bottles, old records and cassette tapes have been utilised for the garments. For Beronia, PAPA also draws attention to the effects of human-caused climate change on crucial materials. 'Our resources as weavers, our natural resources, are disappearing. I mean, harakeke is fine but there are other resources we use. Kuta [a wetland grass], we dive in the lakes for that... it's getting so warm up north, they're losing their kuta.' For this reason, Beronia is passionate about utilising traditional materials. 'Most of the garments are woven with harakeke, but there are other things in there. I've used corn husk in mine, and I've got nīkau, I've got kuta. I've tried to keep mine as natural as possible. It's all about resources for us, highlighting our resources and that we have to look after it.' Beronia has been weaving since 2001, after learning from her aunty Alice Pihema and Kahutoi Te Kanawa during a korowai wānanga at her marae. It was an unusual beginning for her weaving journey. 'I started there and I knew nothing. Weavers will understand, you usually end up doing korowai [later]. You start with making flowers and little baskets. I sort of started the other way.' Alice was a huge influence. 'She taught me how to do tukutuku, which we, as a whānau, we did our tukutuku panels in our marae, our wharenui, which burnt down in the 90s.' Her studies continued with Te Wānanga o Aotearoa and tohunga raranga (master weaver) Te Hemo Ata Hēnare. Beronia has also found community in Te Puāwai Raranga. The group of Māori artists and weavers, who practise with traditional and contemporary techniques and materials, are based in Ōrākei. PAPA is a part of a wider art series – the first event was an exhibition at Ōrākei Marae called Tuku. The series began because Beronia and her community of weavers wanted a place to display their works. 'I thought, 'we'll just give our weavers somewhere to be able to show'. Because, you know, we don't really have a lot of spaces.' The first PAPA show was in 2024 and its immediate return this year is spurred by passionate audiences. Paul Baragwanath, the director of the Friends of St David's Trust Kāhui Rangi Pūpū, told Beronia and her co-curator Te Whaea Witika that the response was overwhelming. 'We're hoping actually we can do it every three years after this because it's a lot of work,' Beronia laughs. 'Weaving is not as fast as a lot of people think. It's a lot slower. If people want to put in a korowai, that can take up to two years to make.' The show will also involve Te Whānau Toi Tupu, a collective of weavers, fundraising for a cultural exchange trip to Thailand. Beronia is among the practitioners making the trip. 'They have set us up to go to a whole lot of other weaving places – galleries, temples – so we're actually going to weave with one of the aunties over there.' Within similar spaces, Beronia has witnessed a shared appreciation for what she calls 'the zone' – where weaving becomes a nourishing and meditative activity. She says these exchanges are also an opportunity for building community and knowledge sharing. In future, she hopes the group will make it to Tahiti too. 'I love to share what I know. I don't own any of my knowledge. I was given that and it's my chance now to give it out, to share it.' For Beronia, PAPA amplifies this treasured knowledge and its origins. 'Our tūpuna were so clever in finding out what you can do with harakeke. 'These days we take it for granted. They did all of the science. We're learning and using the techniques that they did hundreds of years ago.' Madeleine Crutchley is a journalist for Viva and lifestyle and entertainment at The New Zealand Herald. She covers stories relating to fashion, culture and food and drink, from her hometown of Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland. Recently, she's written about dressing during the climate emergency, alternative fashion futures and contemporary sculpture artworks. More local fashion From emerging talents to statements through style. Aotearoa Music Awards 2025: On The Red Carpet Stars Shone A Spotlight On New Zealand Fashion. Local artists showcased their love and appreciation for fashion at the 60th celebration of the Aotearoa Music Awards at Auckland's Viaduct Events Centre. Designer Vince Ropitini Reasserts The Art Of Passive Resistance. Vince Ropitini scooped two awards for his collection The Art Of Passive Resistance at iD Dunedin Fashion Week. The designer speaks to Madeleine Crutchley about threading histories of protest together and the influence of contemporary Māori art. From Warkworth To London, Fashion Designer Kat Tua Is Challenging Māori Stereotypes. Menswear designer Kat Tua talks to Dan Ahwa about a deeply personal bespoke creation designed to underpin the values of her brand Manaaki for an international audience. My Style: Aorangi Kora On Fashion, Craft & Creating Crochet Bae. Academic and artist Aorangi Kora's crochet pieces have been winning fans online and off. Emma Gleason caught up with her to discuss her approach to style. . A royal scarf, slogan T-shirts and statements of self-determination play a pivotal role in enhancing the message during Hīkoi mō te Tiriti.


The Spinoff
10 hours ago
- The Spinoff
Our reviews from week one of the Kia Mau festival
From musical tales of communal island life to class consciousness in a Crown Lynn workroom, these are the shows we enjoyed at the Kia Mau festival this week. Waenga The strength of Waenga is that its story of police brutality ('humility? futility?'), mana motuhake and self-discovery is one shared by rangathi across the motu. Leads Hariata and Tamati Moriarty (children of highly regarded actor Jim Moriarty and playwright Helen Pearse Otene) wrote this play after working extensively with high schoolers, asking them 'what do your ancestors want from you? What stops you from reaching your potential?' – and what they discovered is stories of young Māori continually facing systemic violence and racism and, despite it all, still having an unwavering desire to live wholeheartedly in their Māoritanga. The result is a just-under-an-hour long show with so much bite it leaves you breathless, coupled with enough comedic relief to soften the pain, and remind you that as Māori, we're pretty damn funny in the face of oppression. Connie (Hariata) finds herself in a police station after an alleged bust-up with the coppers, and doesn't trust her 'kūpapa' defence lawyer Grayson (Tamati) to see her side of the story. But as the two spend more time together, they realise their experiences might not be so far apart, whether you're trying to change a racist system from the inside or outside. /Lyric Waiwiri-Smith He Ingoa Nau mai te pō, te ao, te awatea. Awatea mai te pū, te more, te weu, te aka, te ingoa taketake. Maiangi te tapu, te wehi, te kuru pounamu: he aha tēnei mea te ingoa? Otirā, me pēhea tātou e whakamana i ngā ingoa o a tātou anō. 'What's in a name? That which we call a rose/ By any other name would smell as sweet' – the iconic line from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet is flipped on its head. Where Juliet talks about the insignificance of a name – a thing is still a thing regardless of what we call it – He Ingoa emphasises the mana within a name. From the depths of te kore, a name blossoms and is brought into te whei ao, into te ao mārama. A name is given, a name is chosen, and a name is reclaimed. He Ingoa itself is a reclamation. Not only of our own names, but of our stories and our whakapapa. The cast packed a powerful performance and were incredibly well controlled with the intensity in every song, delivering full force right through to the climax at the end. The band and crew's work exceptionally embellished and elevated the show. He Ingoa certainly has carved its name into the stage. /Taipari Taua Ka Mua Ka Muri, Atamira Dance Company A fusion of lighting, sound, stage, choreography, six magnificent dance artists and spoken word. Ka Mua Ka Muri explores whakapapa through a mix of poetic visual and sound constructions and an undulating tone. The show opened with comedy and moved from there to anguish, poignancy, timidity, ferocity, hopes and reflections.I found the design of the show magnificent: all of the elements worked seamlessly together. The high production values made sure this gentle exploration of what it is to be Māori – to exist within the maunga of whakapapa – had impact. The spoken word elements wove throughout the show, like vignettes of internal thought, sometimes quite childlike which spoke to the sense of the eternal spiral of time. At times I wanted the voices to be amplified: The Opera House is a big space and the rest of the production had a sense of scale and awe so at times the lack of microphones for the dance artists was noticeable. The text was also very literal and I wondered if it could be pared back, simply to let the rich imagery of the choreography, sound, projection, stage and lighting do most of the work. The moments of song were magical. Many images will linger in my mind: an arrangement of dancers into various maunga, kupu sliding over them in ascent; bodies running to try and break an invisible barrier and being pinged back; the drift and sway of the veil. The two halves of the show (the first choreographed by Bianca Hyslop; the second by Eddie Elliott) referenced each other so there was a continuous motif of comedy (among other threads) – a self-awareness that worked. / Claire Mabey A Master of None: Brown Fala Lila Crichton's interpretation of the classic myth of Sina and the eel is dark and violent, with the eel – a king in disguise who is desperate to woo Sina despite her objections – sweeping her under waves of despair. It's a well-known Samoan tale, used to explain the existence of the coconut tree (in the original, Sina cuts off the eel's head, plants it and from it grows the palm) but in Crichton's world, it's a warning for the ways in which we undermine the autonomy of our sisters. The myth is the heart of this play, but so is fala, the Samoan art of weaving, and music, the universal language. The vocal abilities of the ensemble cast are breathtaking, whether they're singing traditional song, jazz or rhythm and blues, while Sina and the eel, both living in shame, disappear themselves under woven mats as they grapple with their relationship. By the play's end, Sina and her whānau are able to hold court with the eel, serving him kava as a clip plays in the background, acknowledging the almost nine in 10 Samoan women who will experience physical or emotional violence by a family member. Walking out to a standing ovation at the end, Crichton's only request for the crowd for us to 'just talk to each other'. /LWS WINHANGANHA, Jazz Money + National Film and Sound Archive of Australia I make no secret among my peers of my adoration for poet Jazz Money. WINHANGANHA is Money's film that brings together archival footage, an original score and her phenomenal poetry as an act of remembering ancestors, whānau and the history of First Nations and Torres Strait peoples. It took us on a journey across multiple chapters segmented by Money's poetry and I could feel the energy in the theatre as we all responded physically and emotionally to the film. After the film there was a question and answer session with Money, which was perfect. Hearing from her about her own film and its creation was inspiring and gave me much to think about. I will carry WINHANGANHAwith me for a long time to come. / Melissa Oliver The Handlers There are so many dynamics to enjoy in The Handlers, a slice of life look into a Crown Lynn workroom of the 70s, where Māori women shape mug handles and try to make sure the production line never halts, lest they feel the Pākehā wrath of their boss, Mr John. Tongan worker Salote isn't actually Māori, of course, but it's easier just going along with whatever John thinks, and she's already found a home in her colleagues: aunty Whero, Kiri and Hine. Sister duo Kiri and Hine can't stand being on the same production line, while making Crown Lynn crockery has been Whero's entire life for the past 20 years. There's a reason why all the characters are to keep their connections secret – Salote's issues with Immigration are causing her strife at home, while a tragedy in the family sees Kiri, Hine and Whero struggle with how much to divulge, and whether it's mahi or whānau that should come first in a post-colonial New Zealand. The Handlers is a beautiful piece of theatre, made strong by its ensemble cast and faithfulness to the New Zealand of the time – half of it desperately trying to assimilate into Pākehā culture, and the other half, trying desperately to hold onto indigenous mana. But it's not all serious and sad – The Handlers is funny! It's refreshing! It's hopeful! And at the end of it all, on opening night in Circa theatre, the show received a hearty standing ovation. /LWS