It’s genuinely good to see director Lee Tamahori getting back to his New Zealand roots with the period drama, The Convert. After a series of underwhelming Hollywood blockbusters (XXX: State of the Union, Next, Die Another Day), Tamahori trades unbridled action for colonialism and tribalism. But there’s still plenty of violence and war for those who look for that from Tamahori, albeit more elegantly staged than his visceral debut film also about the Māori, Once Were Warriors.
Tamahori begins the film with a swooping aerial view of 1830 New Zealand, deep forests and mountains spread far and wide. A bird is seen being swallowed up by a larger one diving from above, suggesting an inevitable evolutionary cycle where a more powerful creature dominates a lesser one. It’s an apt metaphor for history as a whole, but also for this story in which white, monied settlers begin exerting their influence over the tribal natives.
Guy Pearce plays preacher Thomas Munro, one who reads Adam Smith as a hobby, who arrives in the land to spread the good word, while avoiding conflict between the British settlers and the brutal but proud Māori tribes, and between the tribes themselves which are always at war. Almost immediately upon arrival he is nearly killed by a tribal Chief after breaking up a bloody battle. Munro’s pleas for mercy mostly go unheeded, except in the case of Rangimai (Tioreore Ngatai-Melbourne), the daughter of a rival Chief, who becomes his ward and a voice for the Māori.
“If you’ve come to win souls for Jesus, you’re going to be busy”, Munro is told, suggesting that playing the crusader for Christ is a fool’s errand. But Munro’s evolution will be strikingly familiar to anyone who has seen Dances with Wolves or other films about a White man forced to live among the so-called “savages”. As unsparing and heartless as the tribes can be, it is equaled by the sheer cruelty and racism of the white settlers towards the indigenous folk. He finds an ally in the village doctor, Charlotte (Jacqueline McKenzie), who speaks the native tongue and aids in Rangimai’s education, much to the chagrin of the locals.
Gorgeous cinematography by Gin Loane captures the natural beauty of New Zealand and the Māori culture. The deep well of history etched on the faces of Māori men through their Tamoko facial tattoos and the fury of their war dance creates indelible, resonating images, while Michael Bennett’s screenplay expertly incorporates the Māori language. The Convert is a handsomely-made film, with Tamahori weaving like a pro between artistic flourishes and well-constructed fight sequences.
Where The Convert struggles is in the development of its characters, which leaves much to be desired. That’s not a knock on the performances, which are uniformly excellent. Pearce doesn’t do big blockbusters as much anymore, but he remains a strong presence, especially in smaller movies like this where he commands so much attention. He’s forceful and a bit slick as Munro, a man who is used to his words having a dramatic impact on people but finding it less convincing in such a lawless land. He’s only matched by Ngatai-Melbourne, who brings a fiery passion as Rangimai that elevates a baggy, slow second act.
The Convert never fails to capture the majesty and ferocity of New Zealand at this moment in time, only matched by the warriors who fought to protect their way of life. Tamahori’s soulless Hollywood endeavors are long in the past, and while this film is imperfect, it shows a passion that was missing for too long.
The Convert is in theaters and VOD now.
