Whale Rider

Starring:
  • Keisha Castle-Hughes
  • Rawiri Paratene
  • Cliff Curtis

 

 
Written and Directed by Niki Caro

"Sweetie, we may not bend it like Beckham, be we sure can ride some whales, can't we?"

Ebert Likes Whale Movies Because He's Fat (Thank You, Gene Siskel)

The arthouse summer of 2003 was marked by two "inspiring" stories of young girls casting off the shackles of patriarchy to emerge fresh and enlightened into the world. One of these movies is actually inspiring; the other is soccer's answer to My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Bend It Like Beckham takes literally those "Soccer Is Life. Everything Else Is Just Details" shirts, whereas Whale Rider considers the painful assimilation of centuries of tradition into a woman's liberation. Beckham's cultural study involves the little girl asking a painting above the fireplace for guidance; Whale Rider's cultural inquiry involves centuries of ritual being passed to a dying breed.

Pai (Keisha Castle-Hughes) is a Maori girl who lives with her grandparents Koro and Nanni. Koro is a traditional Maori patriarch, a grandfather of the violent men in Lee Tamahori's first feature Once Were Warriors. As in that film, the dove emerging from the fiery violence is a gifted girl. In her consignment to womanly duties, she avoids the infection of violence until it spills over into the entire family. Once Were Warriors centers on a young family of ghettoized Maori, whereas Whale Rider is a gentler film, concentrating less on domestic violence and more on how the centuries of oppression have become less synchronized with the modern world. Koro picks up Pai from school on his bicycle, the wind blowing their hair as the old man and the young girl speed home along the ocean front. But, Pai is approaching the age of passage, which means that her grandfather's attention will turn to the serious work of preparing the boys for Maori manhood.

Complicating matters is Pai's father, Porourangi (Cliff Curtis), who comes back for a visit. He's not a kendo stick kind of guy, so he left to pursue a career as an artist in France. Porourangi's good, of course, but this impresses Koro very little. Porourangi, Koro's eldest son, should have been the dwindling tribe's leader, their new Moses, but in his absence, the weight has fallen to the shoulders of Rawiri, whose eighty extra pounds make it difficult to lead the people. Koro's aggravation also weighs on his wife Nanny, who must choose her moments very wisely, as if she's try to keep the lid on a boiling pot.

All of this sets up over an hour's worth of family drama, which might have been tedious, if not for a literate screenplay by Niki Caro. I won't give away too much more of the story, except to say that the script invites us into this (to the American audience) distant culture. We feel the honor of the code and the weight of its impending death—a weight so heavy, in fact, that it's symbolized by beached whales. This sort of thing can be very obvious (like Jess falling in love with her soccer coach), but Caro screenplay provides enough dialogue to give each character a voice, yet provides enough space to allow the actors to fill in the character, and to use the natural surroundings to round out the theme. We understand what Caro means when we see a legion of beached whales plopped in the sand, framed by a slate-grey sky, with the sounds of the waves mixing with whale lowing. The wind blows a lot in this movies, as if the spirit of people soars with it—very poetic, as opposed to Beckham's choppy, poorly framed soccer scenes. There's no rock-themed montages, just the grace of kendo fighting, scored by the thwack of sticks and the whoosh of the air.

The climactic scene is virtually wordless, unlike Beckham's Vardolos-inspired earnest speeches. The action ties together—like the rope Koro uses to describe the Maori people—each different subplot. The main event, of course, Pai's spirit breaking free to heal the wounded people; there's great poetry in Pai's treating of whale scars and her ocean journey. Her destiny makes sense: Only a woman could heel the scars men have left on woman—both figuratively and literally, as Once Were Warriors tells us. The film feels as epic as it should: Whale Rider is about female liberation as the healing and survival of an ancient people; Bend It Like Beckham is about liberating oneself to join WUSA's San Jose Cyberays. You be the judge.

The Pitch:
2 Once Were Warriors
Plus
Free Willy
Equals
Whale Rider
See It For:

The less upbeat "alternative ending" to Free Willy.