Colonialism is an ill of the “political class”, an eternal manifestation of the 1%’s insatiable greed. Their empire way of thinking has drawn together some far-flung corners, such as North Yorkshire and the Maori people of New Zealand, as facilitated by the violence of Captain James Cook. While Captain Cook may be celebrated in his home region by having museums and shopping districts named after him, the reality is far more vicious and bloodthirsty. The upper crust of 1800s North Yorkshire ravaged New Zealand to their heart’s content, and that forms the core of Taratoa Stappard’s feature debut, Marama, which recently had its US premiere at Austin, Texas’s Fantastic Fest.
Opening on the picturesque valleys of 1859 North Yorkshire, we are introduced to Mary (Ariana Osborne), a Maori woman from Aotearoa (New Zealand), dressed in the garb of 19th century English high society; she has been summoned by someone on the promise of answers about her parents. Unfortunately, that person died of pox; however, as “luck” would have it, the wealthy benefactor Nathaniel Cole (Toby Stephens) offers her a bed in his home as governess to his daughter. Cole isn’t a standard patron; his vast home and grounds are scattered with all manner of Maori property, from blades and masks to a literal ancestral and profoundly meaningful Wharenui sat in his back garden – a move that would make the British Museum beam with pride. As the true depths of Cole’s obsession unfurl, we learn that Mary has the abilities of a Seer, through which she experiences the past of others. Through her visions, we see the heinous acts committed on her fellow Maori and family members, sights that lead Mary barrelling towards an inevitable violent resolution.
There’s a history of movies that tackle the subject of colonisation with a visceral brutality, depicting the reality of how the British Empire treated those they subjugated; they are tough watches. Marama isn’t about the emotional and historical realism of those times, instead, it laser-focuses on the trials of one woman. However, there is an implication of historical relevance, as the name “Marama” is a reference to the vitally important (for the New Zealand identity and autonomy) Treaty of Waitangi.
an emotional and deserved puncturing of all those British period dramas that idealise the manor houses, lords and ladies without taking even a passing glance at what was going on underneath the gothic bonne
The trials and tribulations of this Marama touch upon the reasons why us Teesside and North Yorkshire locals should assess our reverence of Captain Cook, but as far as the events of the movie, there is one happening that is difficult to watch. That’s a loaded statement – “difficult to watch” usually implies sexual violence or extreme gore; here, it’s a party scene. With the help of fellow antipodean “explorer” Jack Fenton (an unrecognisable Erroll Shand), Cole puts on a party for Mary, which sounds innocent enough. But Jack and the many guests treat Maori culture like it’s beneath them, a joke complete with dry humping, laughs, and enough cartoon absurdity that it becomes upsetting, especially with the repeated cuts between the party and Mary’s face contorting with rage. The eventual Haka (war dance) that Mary performs as tears roll down her face is intense; you’d have to be made of stone to not find that affecting.
That hard-nosed emotional core sees Stappard’s movie at its best, with the sanctimonious façade that Stephens imbues Nathaniel Cole with playing off against the raw nerve of Osborne’s Mary. Likewise, when violence explodes into frame, it’s ugly, cathartic and rewarding, paying off dramatic revelations that shine a light on the way that a certain class of men treated women or anything they saw as “their property”. Of similar strong stock is the incredibly expressive cinematography, with the contained spaces and muddy colours of Yorkshire an oppressive prison compared to the muted beauty of the New Zealand seen through Mary’s eyes.
It’s a handsome movie with a ferocious heart, Marama, but to suggest it doesn’t have any issues would be short-sighted. For starters, it opens with a text card explaining that the extreme violence enacted on the Maori people needs to be shown before we can understand the bigger picture, only it’s a fairly mundane and micro vision of colonial might – not that I was demanding brutal violence, but it leaves too much to the imagination. On a similar level are two characters: Peggy (Umi Myers), a servant and woman of colour, and Nathaniel’s daughter, Hinemoana (Mihi Te Rauhi Daniels). While both are well performed, they are skimmed over, their characters’ arcs forgotten, treated as collateral to Mary and Nathaniel Cole’s shared history. They are ultimately passing trifles, though. Taratoa Stappard’s Marama is an emotional and deserved puncturing of all those British period dramas that idealise the manor houses, lords and ladies without taking even a passing glance at what was going on underneath the gothic bonnet.
MARAMA HAD ITS US PREMIERE AT FANTASTIC FEST 2025
