Latest news with #Mareta
The Guardian
30-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Tinā review – a feel-good choir drama that follows a winning formula
Ah yes: the inspirational high school movie! This formula is an oldie but a goodie: a thinking-outside-the-box teacher profoundly inspires their students while restoring something broken inside themselves. Such narratives view education as a 'school of life' in which everybody – irrespective of age and circumstance – is always in a state of learning and growing. The teacher's unconventional methods are inevitably questioned; various triumphs and tragedies ensue. And in musically themed productions such as the Aotearoa New Zealand drama Tinā, momentum builds towards a rousing final performance. Tonally, Miki Magasiva's film is less School of Rock than Mr Holland's Opus: middle-of-the-road stylistically and not so much tugging the heartstrings as giving them a right royal yank. There's no ambiguity in his script, which puts its emotional messages in floodlights and drops the kind of lines that'd make some screenwriters blush – like 'teaching is about more than just education' and 'the longest journey always begins with the first step'. Underpinning everything, however, is a humane spirit and sheer good-naturedness that warms the cockles. While many viewers will realise, about 30 or 40 minutes in, that they've seen variations of this story before, two core features provide substantial points of difference. One is a generous helping of lovely traditional Samoan music. The other is a beautifully layered leading performance from Anapela Polataivao as Mareta, a straight-shooting Samoan teacher whose destiny is clear: take on the establishment and leave a mighty impression on her pupils. Opening scenes provide a tragic backstory – the protagonist's daughter dying during the 2011 Christchurch earthquakes. The story jumps ahead three years with a deflated and still-devastated Mareta no longer teaching and on social benefits. An old colleague asks her for help, saying schools are closing all over the city, hinting at the emergence of a reluctant hero narrative whereby the protagonist will initially refuse the call to adventure before invariably rising to the challenge. Perhaps surprisingly, Mareta takes a job at an elite private school, this setting adding a vague element of class commentary. It's not greatly exploited for social and political critique: the point is more to present music as a soul-replenishing tonic, bridging people, cultures and socioeconomic circumstances. The outgoing headmaster wonders whether Mareta can 'offer my kids something different'. And of course she does: this primarily manifests in the formation of a choir, which the school's snooty leaders are far from delighted about. Precedent suggests the road ahead won't be easy: after all, Robin Williams got fired in Dead Poet's Society; the arts department was cut in Mr Holland's Opus; and Morgan Freeman even went to jail in Lean on Me. Polataivao's commanding performance is Tinā's crucial solidifying element. It's a constant source of rich drama, more understated and subtle than the film itself. Her character is blunt and hard-nosed – soured and worn down by life, with no compulsion to flatter or pretend – and yet we can always sense warmth and heart inside her, longing for an outlet. Sometimes simple, character-based moments make the most interesting cultural observations. When encouraged by colleagues to dress more formally, for instance, the no-nonsense protagonist fires back: 'Where I'm from, this is formal.' Curiously, for a story with such a large focus on the formation of a high school choir, none of the teens struck me as deeply developed characters (though the film almost gets there with Sophie, a struggling student well portrayed by Antonia Robinson). The same can be said of the supporting cast in general; it feels as though Tinā is so devoted to Mareta it didn't have much time for others. She's certainly a seismic presence, and a memorable addition to the cinematic classroom. Tinā is in Australian and New Zealand cinemas now
Sydney Morning Herald
24-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
‘Any big man will crumble': Why mums are the heart of this hit NZ film
We need to start seeing the world through a mother's eyes. This is what Miki Magasiva learned while making his directorial debut, Tinā, a heartwarming Samoan-New Zealand drama that has already become the sixth-highest grossing Kiwi film in history. 'The key is in the title – Tinā means mother in Samoan. Formally in our culture, mothers raise the village's children, not just their biological children. There's something special in that – that our mothers don't see race, don't see culture, they just see children,' he says. 'Wouldn't it be amazing, in the culture and environment we're in now, to see the world the way mothers do? Where we don't see race any more, we just reach out if somebody is in need.' Mareta Percival, the face and heart of Tinā, sees the world this way. Played by Anapela Polataivao (The Rule of Jenny Pen), Mareta loses her daughter in the 2011 Christchurch earthquake, quits her job at a local Samoan school and falls into relative seclusion. A few years later, still overwhelmed by grief, she begins work as a substitute teacher at an elite, mostly white private school, where she starts a choir that becomes a refuge for struggling students. It's a story about the universal need for a guiding figure paired with a firm, but loving, hand. As a mother herself, Polataivao says she found playing a character like this almost instinctual. 'It's something you kind of just naturally possess once you have a child,' she says. 'I've grown up with lots of incredible women, my mum and my aunt included. They are real straight-talking, no-nonsense, no beating around the bush kind of women, so it's an intrinsic thing.' Others on set felt the same way, drawing on memories of their own maternal figures – strong women who seemed to single-handedly hold their families together. 'It's not just Samoan culture,' says Beulah Koale, who plays Mareta's nephew and social worker in the film. 'In most cultures, mothers are the top tier of the family … Put any mum in front of any big island man, and they will crumble because of the amount of respect we put on all mums.' One particular line in the film captures this perfectly. In an attempt to get her rowdy choir back in line, Mareta whips out a jandal (Kiwi slang for a flip-flop), warning them they'll 'get the jandal' if they're not careful. 'With love, of course,' she quickly adds. The film's focus on the tough-but-loving mother is clearly paying off. In less than two months, Tinā has become the widest release ever for a New Zealand film, screening at 128 locations across New Zealand, Papua New Guinea, the Cook Islands, Fiji and Samoa. It has also become one of the top 10 highest grossing New Zealand films ever, earning nearly $8 million to date. This takes it ahead of hits like What We Do in the Shadows and cult classics such as Footrot Flats. There's more to the film than just motherhood, though, Magasiva says. If Mareta is the heart of Tinā, music is the soul. The story is inspired by a real-life high school choir in Auckland, Choralation Choir, which Magasiva came across on YouTube in 2013. Their performance of a traditional Samoan arrangement at a choral competition called The Big Sing went viral online, a performance that brought Magasiva to tears. 'I felt so emotional, I could feel it right in my heart,' he says. 'It brought me an overwhelming sense of pride. There's something magical about the experience of music – it's a way of communicating that's unspoken. Musicians connect through the frequency of music, they can see each other's turmoil and struggles without having to say the words.' Though no longer a singer himself, Magasiva says it was important that the singing in the film was as authentic as possible. So, with the help of two well-known New Zealand choirmasters, they assembled a cast of singers from the New Zealand Secondary School Choir and the Auckland Youth Choir. Loading Music is what ultimately connects Mareta to the students at the elite school, young people whose lives initially seem a million miles from her own. It's the connective tissue that bridges the gap between Samoan and New Zealand culture, and what ultimately gets the students wearing lavalavas (a traditional Samoan skirt) and entering the classroom saying 'talofa' ('hello' in Samoan). Sharing these elements of Samoan culture, among others, was vital for everyone involved in the production of Tinā. 'Growing up as a Samoan in New Zealand, we were always told not to forget who we represent, who our parents are,' Polataivao says. 'We come in as a village, and when you're in, you belong to the whole village … Sia Figiel [a Samoan author] writes 'I is we always' in her book Where we once belonged. That's always been the thing for us.' Samoans need more of their stories told on screen, she says. While she celebrates Tinā 's success so far, she knows it can't stop here. 'How long do we need to wait and how many hoops do we need to jump through for another one? We need these stories to guide us, to support us … My auntie says they're lessons for us – we're feeling, we're thinking, and we're being questioned while watching.' Beulah Koale agrees, adding that he hopes their film makes it easier for the next Samoan filmmaker who decides to bring more Pacific culture to the silver screen. 'Miki faced a lot of challenges making this film, but the drive for our people, the drive to teach other cultures, love through our culture, is what makes us want to do it. There's no money or goal in mind. It's just the fact that we're trying to use our culture to show love to everyone.' Loading Now that the film is out in the world, Koale says it no longer belongs to those who made it, but to all the people it represents. He remembers a recent red carpet appearance, when 10 Samoan mothers dressed in traditional gowns gently pushed to the front of the line, proudly saying, 'This is our movie; we're going to take a photo with our sons.' These 'little wins' mean more to the Tinā team than any box office success, Magasiva says. It reminds them that they accomplished what they set out to do – to show the world through a mother's eyes.
The Age
24-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The Age
‘Any big man will crumble': Why mums are the heart of this hit NZ film
We need to start seeing the world through a mother's eyes. This is what Miki Magasiva learned while making his directorial debut, Tinā, a heartwarming Samoan-New Zealand drama that has already become the sixth-highest grossing Kiwi film in history. 'The key is in the title – Tinā means mother in Samoan. Formally in our culture, mothers raise the village's children, not just their biological children. There's something special in that – that our mothers don't see race, don't see culture, they just see children,' he says. 'Wouldn't it be amazing, in the culture and environment we're in now, to see the world the way mothers do? Where we don't see race any more, we just reach out if somebody is in need.' Mareta Percival, the face and heart of Tinā, sees the world this way. Played by Anapela Polataivao (The Rule of Jenny Pen), Mareta loses her daughter in the 2011 Christchurch earthquake, quits her job at a local Samoan school and falls into relative seclusion. A few years later, still overwhelmed by grief, she begins work as a substitute teacher at an elite, mostly white private school, where she starts a choir that becomes a refuge for struggling students. It's a story about the universal need for a guiding figure paired with a firm, but loving, hand. As a mother herself, Polataivao says she found playing a character like this almost instinctual. 'It's something you kind of just naturally possess once you have a child,' she says. 'I've grown up with lots of incredible women, my mum and my aunt included. They are real straight-talking, no-nonsense, no beating around the bush kind of women, so it's an intrinsic thing.' Others on set felt the same way, drawing on memories of their own maternal figures – strong women who seemed to single-handedly hold their families together. 'It's not just Samoan culture,' says Beulah Koale, who plays Mareta's nephew and social worker in the film. 'In most cultures, mothers are the top tier of the family … Put any mum in front of any big island man, and they will crumble because of the amount of respect we put on all mums.' One particular line in the film captures this perfectly. In an attempt to get her rowdy choir back in line, Mareta whips out a jandal (Kiwi slang for a flip-flop), warning them they'll 'get the jandal' if they're not careful. 'With love, of course,' she quickly adds. The film's focus on the tough-but-loving mother is clearly paying off. In less than two months, Tinā has become the widest release ever for a New Zealand film, screening at 128 locations across New Zealand, Papua New Guinea, the Cook Islands, Fiji and Samoa. It has also become one of the top 10 highest grossing New Zealand films ever, earning nearly $8 million to date. This takes it ahead of hits like What We Do in the Shadows and cult classics such as Footrot Flats. There's more to the film than just motherhood, though, Magasiva says. If Mareta is the heart of Tinā, music is the soul. The story is inspired by a real-life high school choir in Auckland, Choralation Choir, which Magasiva came across on YouTube in 2013. Their performance of a traditional Samoan arrangement at a choral competition called The Big Sing went viral online, a performance that brought Magasiva to tears. 'I felt so emotional, I could feel it right in my heart,' he says. 'It brought me an overwhelming sense of pride. There's something magical about the experience of music – it's a way of communicating that's unspoken. Musicians connect through the frequency of music, they can see each other's turmoil and struggles without having to say the words.' Though no longer a singer himself, Magasiva says it was important that the singing in the film was as authentic as possible. So, with the help of two well-known New Zealand choirmasters, they assembled a cast of singers from the New Zealand Secondary School Choir and the Auckland Youth Choir. Loading Music is what ultimately connects Mareta to the students at the elite school, young people whose lives initially seem a million miles from her own. It's the connective tissue that bridges the gap between Samoan and New Zealand culture, and what ultimately gets the students wearing lavalavas (a traditional Samoan skirt) and entering the classroom saying 'talofa' ('hello' in Samoan). Sharing these elements of Samoan culture, among others, was vital for everyone involved in the production of Tinā. 'Growing up as a Samoan in New Zealand, we were always told not to forget who we represent, who our parents are,' Polataivao says. 'We come in as a village, and when you're in, you belong to the whole village … Sia Figiel [a Samoan author] writes 'I is we always' in her book Where we once belonged. That's always been the thing for us.' Samoans need more of their stories told on screen, she says. While she celebrates Tinā 's success so far, she knows it can't stop here. 'How long do we need to wait and how many hoops do we need to jump through for another one? We need these stories to guide us, to support us … My auntie says they're lessons for us – we're feeling, we're thinking, and we're being questioned while watching.' Beulah Koale agrees, adding that he hopes their film makes it easier for the next Samoan filmmaker who decides to bring more Pacific culture to the silver screen. 'Miki faced a lot of challenges making this film, but the drive for our people, the drive to teach other cultures, love through our culture, is what makes us want to do it. There's no money or goal in mind. It's just the fact that we're trying to use our culture to show love to everyone.' Loading Now that the film is out in the world, Koale says it no longer belongs to those who made it, but to all the people it represents. He remembers a recent red carpet appearance, when 10 Samoan mothers dressed in traditional gowns gently pushed to the front of the line, proudly saying, 'This is our movie; we're going to take a photo with our sons.' These 'little wins' mean more to the Tinā team than any box office success, Magasiva says. It reminds them that they accomplished what they set out to do – to show the world through a mother's eyes.
