Film
Coastal heartbeat
by Helene Wong
Land of the Long White Cloud gives us an acute sense of Kiwi identity.
He might call it a “sequel of sorts” to his documentary Kaikohe Demolition, but Florian Habicht’s Land of the Long White Cloud is also evidence of a maturing film-maker. What’s more, he still delivers more bang for his -no-bucks budget than many who are better resourced.
That maturity is evident in the bold ambition of the title. The setting might be the Far North, but after just over an hour, we come away with an acute sense of Kiwi identity that brings both a smile and a tear. Habicht, the offspring of German immigrants, brings an outsider’s objectivity to his human subjects while using an insider’s ease to engage closely with them, coaxing out their deepest thoughts.
As in Kaikohe Demolition, those subjects are a delightful range of salty individuals. Maori and Pakeha, predominantly male – what female presence there is, though, is both feisty and indelible – focused once more on a recreational activity. The Kaikohe demolition derby is replaced by fishing: specifically, surfcasting in the annual five-day Ninety Mile Beach Snapper Classic. Once again, Habicht interviews the competitors, showing what’s under their skin and that of their community.
He makes no pretence that he’s the one holding the camera and asking the questions. It’s an informality that’s disarming to us as viewers, and to his subjects, who show genuine ease and warmth in their relationship with the camera. Thankfully, though, he’s not tempted to do a Borat and join them on the other side. These people deserve much more respect than that: witness their answers to his questions, beginning innocuously enough with fishing, then veering off to Princess Di, 9/11 and on to love, afterlife and friendship. The seriousness with which they ponder his left-field queries (“do fish have feelings?”) takes this documentary to a level of integrity Sacha Baron Cohen can only dream of.
Visually, Land of the Long White Cloud is a cut above Kaikohe Demolition. Although there was occasional poetry in the slo-mo ballet of cars bashing the shit out of each other, here the canvas is far more expansive and conducive to the kind of reflective thinking going on. The -impossibly wide beach, stretching away forever, with its human figures in long shot against curling surf, misty spray and changing cloud forms, is an ideal setting for meditating on the big -questions of life. With fellow camera operators Niamh Peren and Christopher Pryor, Habicht captures, without fuss or pretension, the elemental and surreal qualities of the seascape while evoking something that’s quintessentially New Zealand. Peter O’Donoghue’s editing creates smooth, intelligent segues between content and image.
Throughout, there are musical choices that are initially unexpected and almost intrusive, but gradually, subtextually, we see how they fit. Polynesia is referenced by slide guitar, while Viking Records’ tracks of Daphne Walker singing Hoki Mai and Land of the Long White Cloud recall times that seemed simpler and happier. There’s even a -choreographed What Shall We Do with the Drunken Sailor? from the pub patrons. But the real soundtrack to this film is in the background: the constant and ear-filling whoosh and pound of the surf. It’s like a coastal heartbeat, and we instinctively synchronise with it. Ray Beentjes’ sound design couldn’t have complemented the imagery more brilliantly.
Unique margin-residing characters have always peopled Habicht’s work. Think of his darkly mythical Woodenhead. But it is in his “found” characters that his gift for casting is best demonstrated. -Classic Kiwis, down-to-earth and laconic, yet out of their mouths comes simple, honest wisdom that confounds assumptions and reveals true humanity.
The closing sequences, however, are where this film’s maturity is best felt. The location, the characters and the -artless -questions with their seeming -randomness and whimsy all come together -thematically as an aerial shot tracks the spirit pathway northwards to Cape Reinga, and we -realise that what Habicht and his team have created is not just another perspective on us, but a gently uplifting -reflection on death.
LAND OF THE LONG WHITE CLOUD, directed by Florian Habicht.
