It was an interesting time in New Zealand,too – a coming-of-age decade in which the Maori were rediscovering their culture. His area was poor,“but only financially,” he says. “It’s very rich in terms of the people and the culture.” He learnedkapa haka – the songs,dances and chants performed by competing tribes at cultural events,or to honour people at funerals and graduations – weddings,parties,anything. “Man,any excuse,” he explains. “A big part of doing them is to uplift your spirits.”
Photography was a passion,so I ask what he shot. “Just my penis. I sent them to people,but we didn’t have phones,so I would print them out,post them. One of the first dick pics,” he says. Actually,his lens was trained on regular people. He watches us still – in airports,restaurants. “Other times late at night,from a tree. Whatever it takes to get the story. You know that.”
He went to the Wellington state school Onslow College and did plays likeAndrocles and the Lion,A Midsummer Night’s Dream andThe Crucible. His crew of arty students eventually ended up on stage at Bats Theatre in the city,where they would perform haphazard comedy shows for years.
“Taika was always rebellious and wild in his comedy,which I loved,” says his high school mate Jackie van Beek,who became a longtime collaborator,including working with Waititi on a Tourism New Zealand campaign this year. “I remember he went through a phase of turning up in bars around town wearing wigs,and you’d try and sit down and have a drink with him but he’d be doing some weird character that would invariably turn up in some show down the track.”
He met more like-minded peers at Victoria University,including Jemaine Clement (who’d later become co-creator of Flight of the Conchords). During a 2019 chat with actor Elijah Wood,Waititi describes he and Clement clocking one another from opposite sides of the library one day:a pair of Maoris experiencing hate at first sight,based on a mutual suspicion of cultural appropriation. (Clement was wearing a traditional tapa cloth Samoan shirt,and Waititi was like:“This motherf---er’s not Samoan.” Meanwhile,Waititi was wearing a Rastafarian beanie,and Clement was like,“This motherf---er’s not Jamaican.”)
![With Jemaine Clement in 2014.](https://static.ffx.io/images/$width_300%2C$height_150/t_crop_auto/t_sharpen%2Cq_auto%2Cf_auto/6e887c9a3b31e49eccda08d6b23aecfcd075995c)
With Jemaine Clement in 2014.Credit:Getty Images
But they eventually bonded overBlackadder andFawlty Towers,and especially Kenny Everett,and did comedy shows together everywhere from Edinburgh to Melbourne. Waititi was almost itinerant,spending months at a time busking,or living in a commune in Berlin. He acted in a few small films,and then – while playing a stripper on a bad TV show – realised he wanted to try life behind the camera. “I became tired of being told what to do and ordered around,” he told Wellington’sDominion Post in 2004. “I remember sitting around in the green room in my G-string thinking,‘Why am I doing this? Just helping someone else to realise their dream.’ ”
He did two strong short films,then directed his first feature –Eagle vs Shark (2007) – when he was 32. He brought his mates along (Clement,starring with Waititi’s then-girlfriend Loren Horsley),setting something of a pattern in his career:hiring friends instead of constantly navigating new working relationships. “If you look at things I’m doing,” he tells me,“there’s always a few common denominators.”
Sam Neill says Waititi is the exemplar of a new New Zealand humour. “The basis of it is this:we’re just a little bit crap at things.”
This gang of collaborators shares a common Kiwi vibe,too,which his longtime friend,actor Rhys Darby,once coined “the comedy of the mundane”. Their new TV show,Our Flag Means Death,for example,leans heavily into the mundanity of pirate life – what happens on those long days at sea when the crew aren’t unsheathing swords from scabbards or burying treasure.
![Waititi plays pirate captain Blackbeard,centre,in Our Flag Means Death,with Rhys Darby,left,and Rory Kinnear.](https://static.ffx.io/images/$width_300%2C$height_150/t_crop_auto/t_sharpen%2Cq_auto%2Cf_auto/e2622faa3f27d080f99502fb096df01a1581a6c2)
Waititi plays pirate captain Blackbeard,centre,in Our Flag Means Death,with Rhys Darby,left,and Rory Kinnear.Credit:Google Image
Sam Neill,who first met Waititi when starring inHunt for the Wilderpeople,says Waititi is the exemplar of a new New Zealand humour. “And I think the basis of it is this,” says Neill. “We’re just a little bit crap at things,and that in itself is funny.” After all,Neill asks,what isWhat We Do in The Shadows (2014) if not a film (then later a TV show) about a bunch of vampires who are pretty crap at being vampires,living in a pretty crappy house,not quite getting busted by crappy local cops? “New Zealand often gets named as the least corrupt country in the world,and I think it’s just that we would be pretty crap at being corrupt,” Neill says. “We don’t have the capacity for it.”
Waititi’s whimsy also spurns the dominant on-screen oeuvre of his homeland – the so-called “cinema of unease” exemplified by the brutality ofOnce Were Warriors (1994) and the emotional peril ofThe Piano (1993). Waititi still explores pathos and pain,but through laughter and weirdness. “Taika feels to me like an antidote to that dark aspect,and a gift somehow,” Neill says. “And I’m grateful for that.”
Something happened to Taika Waititi when he was about 11 – something he doesn’t go into withGood Weekend,but which he considered a betrayal by the adults in his life. He mentioned it only recently – not the moment itself,but the lesson he learnt:“That you cannot and must not rely on grown-ups to help you – you’re basically in the world alone,and you’re gonna die alone,and you’ve just gotta make it all for yourself,” he told Irish podcast host James Brown. “I basically never forgave people in positions of responsibility.”
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What does that mean in his work? First,his finest films tend to reflect the clarity of mind possessed by children,and the unseen worlds they create – fantasies conjured up as a way to understand or overcome. (His mum once summed up the main message ofBoy:“The unconditional love you get from your children,and how many of us waste that,and don’t know what we’ve got.”)
Second,he’s suited to movie-making – “Russian roulette with art” – because he’s drawn to disruptive force and chaos. And that in turn produces creative defiance:allowing him to reinvigorate the Marvel Universe by making superheroes fallible,or tell a Holocaust story by making fun of Hitler. “Whenever I have to deal with someone who’s a boss,or in charge,I challenge them,” he told Brown,“and I really do take whatever they say with a pinch of salt.”
It’s no surprise then that Waititi was comfortable leaping from independent films to the vast complexity of Hollywood blockbusters. He loves the challenge of coordinating a thousand interlocking parts,requiring an army of experts in vocations as diverse as construction,sound,art,performance and logistics. “I delegate a lot,” he says,“and share the load with a lot of people.”
“This is a cool concept,being able to afford whatever I want,as opposed to sleeping on couches until I was 35.”
Taika Waititi
But the buck stops with him.Time magazine named Waititi one of its Most Influential 100 People of 2022. “You can tell that a film was made by Taika Waititi the same way you can tell a piece was painted by Picasso,” wrote Sacha Baron Cohen. Compassionate but comic. Satirical but watchable. Rockstar but auteur. “Actually,sorry,but this guy’s really starting to piss me off,” Cohen concluded. “Can someone else write this piece?”
![Directing Chris Hemsworth in 2017 in Thor:Ragnarok,which grossed more than $1.3 billion at the box office.](https://static.ffx.io/images/$width_300%2C$height_150/t_crop_auto/t_sharpen%2Cq_auto%2Cf_auto/7b4e545441d791a688256a837b0f7f0fb7e71be9)
Directing Chris Hemsworth in 2017 in Thor:Ragnarok,which grossed more than $1.3 billion at the box office.Credit:Alamy
I’m curious to know how he stays grounded amid such adulation. Coming into the game late,he says,helped immensely. After all,Waititi was 40 by the time he left New Zealand to doThor:Ragnarok. “If you let things go to your head,then it means you’ve struggled to find out who you are,” he says. “But I’ve always felt very comfortable with who I am.” Hollywood access and acclaim – and the pay cheques – don’t erase memories of poverty,either. “It’s more like,‘Oh,this is a cool concept,being able to afford whatever I want,as opposed to sleeping on couches until I was 35.’ ” Small towns and strong tribes keep him in check,too. “You know you can’t piss around and be a fool,because you’re going to embarrass your family,” he says. “Hasn’t stopped me,though.”
Sam Neill says there was never any doubt Waititi would be able to steer a major movie with energy and imagination. “It’s no accident that the whole world wants Taika,” he says. “But his seductiveness comes with its own dangers. You can spread yourself a bit thin. The temptation will be to do more,more,more. That’ll be interesting to watch.”
Indeed,I find myself vicariously stressed out over the list of potential projects in Waititi’s future. A Roald Dahl animated series for Netflix. An Apple TV show based on the 1981 filmTime Bandits. A sequel toWhat We Do In The Shadows. A reboot ofFlash Gordon. A gonzo horror comedy,The Auteur,starring Jude Law. Adapting a cult graphic novel,The Incal,as a feature. A streaming series based on the novelInterior Chinatown. A film based on a Kazuo Ishiguro bestseller. Plus bringing to life the wildly popularAkira comic books. Oh,and for good measure,a new instalment ofStar Wars,which he’s already warned the world will be … different.
“It’s going to change things,” he toldGood Morning America. “It’s going to change what you guys know and expect.”
Did I say I was stressed for Waititi? I meant physically sick.
“Well…” he qualifies,“some of those things I’m just producing,so I come up with an idea or someone comes to me with an idea,and I shape how ‘it’s this kind of show’ and ‘here’s how we can get it made.’ It’s easier for me to have a part in those things and feel like I’ve had a meaningful role in the creative process,but also not having to do what I’ve always done,which is trying to control everything.”
![In the 2014 mockumentary horror film What We Do in the Shadows,which he co-directed with Jemaine Clement.](https://static.ffx.io/images/$width_300%2C$height_150/t_crop_auto/t_sharpen%2Cq_auto%2Cf_auto/27d27ec3c3ab47dd029657fd2720e5a54a3b22f3)
In the 2014 mockumentary horror film What We Do in the Shadows,which he co-directed with Jemaine Clement.Credit:Alamy
What about moving away from the niche New Zealand settings he represented so well in his early work? How does he stay connected to his roots? “I think you just need to know where you’re from,” he says,“and just don’t forget that.”
They certainly haven’t forgotten him.
Jasmin McSweeney sits in her office at the New Zealand Film Commission in Wellington,surrounded by promotional posters Waititi signed for her two decades ago,when she was tasked with promoting his nascent talent. Now the organisation’s marketing chief,she talks to me after visiting the heart of thriving “Wellywood”,overseeing the traditionalkarakia prayer on the set of a new movie starring Geoffrey Rush.
Waititi isn’t the first great Kiwi filmmaker – dual Oscar-winner Jane Campion and blockbuster king Peter Jackson come to mind – yet his particular ascendance,she says,has spurred unparalleled enthusiasm. “Taika gave everyone here confidence. He always says,‘Don’t sit around waiting for people to say,you can do this.’ Just do it,because he just did it. That’s the Taika effect.”
Taika David Waititi is known for wearing everything from technicolour dreamcoats to pineapple print rompers,and today he’s wearing a roomy teal and white Isabel Marant jumper. The mohair garment has the same wispy frizz as his hair,which curls like a wave of grey steel wool,and connects with a shorn salty beard.
A stylish silver fox,it wouldn’t surprise anyone if he suddenly announced he was launching a fashion label. He’s definitely a commercial animal,to the point of directing television commercials for Coke and Amazon,along with a fabulous 2023 spot for Belvedere vodka starring Daniel Craig. He also joined forces with a beverage company in Finland (where “taika” means “magic”) to release his coffee drinks. Announcing the partnership on social media,he flagged that he would be doing more of this kind of stuff,too (“Soz not soz”).
Waititi has long been sick of reverent portrayals of Indigenous people talking to spirits.
There’s substance behind the swank. Fashion is a creative outlet but he’s also bought sewing machines in the past with the intention of designing and making clothes,and comes from a family of tailors. “I learnt how to sew a button on when I was very young,” he says. “I learnt how to fix holes or patches in your clothes,and darn things.”
And while he gallivants around the globe watching Wimbledon or modelling for Hermès at New York Fashion Week,all that glamour belies a depth of purpose,particularly when it comes to Indigenous representation.
There’s a moment in his new movie where a Samoan player realises that their Dutch coach,played by Michael Fassbender,is emotionally struggling,and he offers a lament for white people:“They need us.” I can’t help but think Waititi meant something more by that line – maybe that First Nations people have wisdom to offer if others will just listen?
“Weeelllll,a little bit …” he says – but from his intonation,and what he says next,I’m dead wrong. Waititi has long been sick of reverent portrayals of Indigenous people talking tokehua (spirits),or riding a ghostwaka (phantom canoe),or playing a flute on a mountain. “Always the boring characters,” he says. “They’ve got no real contemporary relationship with the world,because they’re always living in the past in their spiritual ways.”
![A scene from Next Goal Wins,filmed earlier this year.](https://static.ffx.io/images/$width_300%2C$height_150/t_crop_auto/t_sharpen%2Cq_auto%2Cf_auto/75b29a7bd1a66d59e8e283325a7d78276561a6fe)
A scene from Next Goal Wins,filmed earlier this year.Credit:Alamy
He’s part of a vanguard consciously poking fun at those stereotypes. Another is the Navajo writer and director Billy Luther,who met Waititi at Sundance Film Festival back in 2003,along withReservation Dogs co-creator Sterlin Harjo. “We were this group of outsiders trying to make films,when nobody was really biting,” says Luther. “It was a different time. The really cool thing about it now is we’re all working. We persevered. We didn’t give up. We slept on each other’s couches and hung out. It’s like family.”
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Waititi has power now,and is known for using Indigenous interns wherever possible (“because there weren’t those opportunities when I was growing up”),making important introductions,offering feedback on scripts,and lending his name to projects through executive producer credits,too,which he did for Luther’s new feature film,Frybread Face and Me (2023).
He called Luther back from the set ofThor:Love and Thunder (2022) to offer advice on working with child actors – “Don’t box them into the characters you’ve created,” he said,“let them naturally figure it out on their own” – but it’s definitely harder to get Waititi on the phone these days. “He’s a little bitch,” Luther says,laughing. “Nah,there’s nothing like him. He’s a genius. You just knew he was going to be something. I just knew it. He’s my brother.“
I’ve been asked to explicitly avoid political questions in this interview,probably because Waititi tends to back so many causes,from child poverty and teenage suicide to a campaign protesting offshore gas and oil exploration near his tribal lands. But it’s hard to ignore his recent Instagram post,sharing a viral video about the Voice to Parliament referendum starring Indigenous Aussie rapper Adam Briggs. After all,we speak only two days after the proposal is defeated. “Yeah,sad to say but,Australia,you really shat the bed on that one,” Waititi says,pausing. “But go see my movie!”
About that movie – the early reviews aren’t great.IndieWire called it a misfire,too wrapped in its quirks to develop its arcs,with Waititi’s directorial voice drowning out his characters,whileThe Guardian called it “a shoddily made and strikingly unfunny attempt to tell an interesting story in an uninteresting way”. I want to know how he moves past that kind of criticism. “For a start,I never read reviews,” he says,concerned only with the opinion of people who paid for admission,never professional appraisals. “It’s not important to me. I know I’m good at what I do.”
Criticism that Indigenous concepts weren’t sufficiently explained inNext Goal Wins gets his back up a little,though. The film’s protagonist,Jaiyah Saelua,the first transgender football player in a FIFA World Cup qualifying match,isfa’afafine – an American Samoan identifier for someone with fluid genders – but there wasn’t much exposition of this concept in the film. “That’s not my job,” Waititi says. “It’s not a movie where I have to explain every facet of Samoan culture to an audience. Our job is to retain our culture,and present a story that’s inherently Polynesian,and if you don’t like it,you can go and watch any number of those other movies out there,99 per cent of which are terrible.”
Waititi sounds momentarily cranky,but he’s mostly unflappable and hilarious. He’s the kind of guy who prefers “Correctumundo bro!” to “Yes”. When our video connection is too laggy,he plays up to it by periodically pretending to be frozen,sitting perfectly still,mouth open,his big shifting eyeballs the only giveaway.
He’s at his best on set. Saelua sat next to him in Honolulu while filming the joyous soccer sequences. “He’s so chill. He just let the actors do their thing,giving them creative freedom,barely interjecting unless it was something important. His style matches the vibe of the Pacific people. We’re a very funny people. We like to laugh. He just fit perfectly.”
People do seem to love working alongside him,citing his ability to make productions fresh and unpredictable and funny. Chris Hemsworth once said that Waititi’s favourite gag is to “forget” that his microphone is switched on,so he can go on a pantomime rant for all to hear – usually about his disastrous Australian lead actor – only to “remember” that he’s wired and the whole crew is listening.
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“I wouldn’t know about that,because I don’t listen to what other people say about anything – I’ve told you this,” Waititi says. “I just try to have fun when there’s time to have fun. And when you do that,and you bring people together,they’re more willing to go the extra mile for you,and they’re more willing to believe in the thing that you’re trying to do.”
Yes,he plays music between takes,and dances out of his director’s chair,but it’s really all about relaxing amid the immense pressure and intense privilege of making movies. “Do you know how hard it is just to get anything financed or green-lit,then getting a crew,getting producers to put all the pieces together,and then making it to set?” Waititi asks. “It’s a real gift,even to be working,and I feel like I have to remind people of that:enjoy this moment.”
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