Michael Jonathan has had a remarkable career spanning nearly three decades, excelling as a cameraman, director of photography, and director in television and film. His work has received widespread acclaim, particularly his contributions to documentaries and short films. As he now prepares for the release of his debut feature film, Ka Whawhai Tonu (Struggle Without End), I had the opportunity to delve into the process behind bringing this significant chapter of Maori history to the big screen, the deep personal connections that shaped the film, and the challenges he faced while transitioning from documentaries to his first feature film.
Congratulations on your debut feature film. Let’s dive right in. The film is set during the 19th-century Maori-Colonial wars, specifically the Battle of Orakau. Why did you choose this period in history as the backdrop for your debut? What about this moment spoke to you as a filmmaker and as a Maori person?
Well, you know, I’ve been making films, television documentaries, and drama series for about 32 years now—since I was 18. I've always wanted to make a film, but it had to be meaningful for me and my family. Being Maori, I wanted to explore my family history, and the Battle of Orakau was a part of that. My great-great-great-grandmother was a survivor of the invasion by over 2,000 Imperial troops against 300 Maori. She survived, and I recently discovered that my great-great-great-grandfather was also there. This deeper connection to the battle drove me to dedicate all my time to creating a version of that story—my version, the Maori version.
It’s incredible that you recently discovered another family connection to the battle. That must have been a powerful moment. When it came to researching the battle from a filmmaking perspective, how did you approach it? And what led you to weave the story of two teenagers into this historical narrative?
When dealing with something historical, you have to connect with the descendants of those who survived the battle. I visited many descendants—some welcomed me warmly, others not so much. I sat with them, listened, made notes, and recorded interviews to capture their perspectives on the battle. I worked with about eight different Maori tribes, each with its own way of working, so face-to-face interactions were crucial. I told them, "This is about your ancestor, but they may not be a major feature in the film. We're encompassing all your ancestors within a fictional story that we can follow together, without the need for strict accuracy." Their ancestors might be in the background of a shot, like the bodyguards behind Temuera Morrison’s character. I can talk more about who they are once the film is released, but the goal was to treat the story with respect while fostering interest and conversation around these events.
You touched on this a bit already, but you were able to shoot the film entirely in New Zealand. I read that many of your cast and crew, like yourself, are descendants of those involved in the battle. How significant was it for you to have such personal connections with your cast, crew, and yourself to the ancestors, and why was that important?
Ka Whawhai Tonu offered descendants the opportunity to step into the shoes of their ancestors. It was important for us to have the descendants of the battle involved because it might be the closest they’ll ever get to their ancestors who fought in that battle. It’s a powerful opportunity for them, and now they get to see themselves in the movie. Whether in the background, foreground, or passing by, they’re there. For me as a director, one of the first big scenes we shot brought me to tears—I was seeing my ancestors on screen. Everyone on the crew felt it too; once they saw the monitor and what we were creating, they realised we were part of something special and different. Everyone wanted to be a part of that.
Did you hire the cast and crew knowing that they had these ancestral connections, or did those stories emerge during the project?
I did my research on who I wanted as heads of department, mostly people I had worked with before who shared my methodology—just being chill on set, no yelling. If I saw that kind of behaviour, I’d address it immediately. I wanted people who were like me in that sense. We had amazing heads of departments, like Shane Redford, our production designer, who was instrumental on another film called Utu. He’s the oldest in our crew and full of knowledge. Every time we stepped into a scene, he’d bring all these books, and I had to read through pages before we started, so I always had lots of references. Te Ura Hoskins in the wardrobe department had a blast creating Victorian costumes juxtaposed with Maori wardrobe. I told her to just go for it, and the results were amazing. The Moko design was really detailed, and our makeup team came up with a new technique to do it in an hour or two instead of the usual four to six hours. We had an incredible team, and I trusted them to do their best, and they absolutely delivered.
From what I’ve seen in the press pictures, the costumes and makeup are incredibly detailed and look amazing. I can’t wait to see it on the big screen.
Oh, yes, it’s definitely made for the big screen.
You’ve had over 30 years of experience in the film industry, mainly in documentaries and television. How different was your approach to making a feature film? When did you realise you were ready for this debut?
That’s a really good question. Making a feature film has always been the goal. I watched Utu when I was nine years old with my mother. It was a very violent film, and it blew my mind—it made me cry and made me angry. My mother asked why I was crying, but I just loved the film. It inspired me to become a filmmaker. From then on, I knew that was the goal: to make a film like that. We had to push every boundary to make it happen. We submitted an application to our film commission, and there were trust issues because I was a first-time director with no feature films under my belt. But I kept saying, "Well, the first one, we need to get to the first one to be able to say the second one." I’ve done a slate of short films and documentaries, which I love because they’re real, random, and you can go with the flow. Stepping into drama was all about making sure I got the right actors. I don’t have a huge amount of experience with actors, but I knew to choose people who were already the character. It’s a tip Taika Waititi uses, and it makes life a lot easier. One character wasn’t on my radar during auditions, but when she introduced herself, I knew she was perfect. I just guided her a little and let her embody the role. The transition from documentary to drama felt flawless to me. You pick up on the good stuff when shooting documentaries, but in drama, you’re in control of everything. With 30 years of experience, I knew what each department was doing. I gave them a "Bible" of what I wanted—how it should look and feel, the colours, the palette—and they responded right away. It was flawless. I never had issues walking onto a set and saying, "We’re going to do it like this." I have a DOP background, so even though I might think about grabbing the camera, I trust our DOP because he’s amazing. I always suggest and collaborate on the best approach, and we just get in there and do it. Time is our friend, actually, so when you’re under pressure, you bring your close heads of department around and say, "We’re going to do it like this, and if it doesn’t work, we’ll try another way." It often ends up being better that way.
How long did it take to shoot the film?
We shot the film in six weeks, with a pickup shoot for about one and a half weeks. We knew we were going to need pickups, so we waited until we had a rough cut to make the process more efficient and get exactly what we needed.
For such an action-heavy movie, that’s quite a short time to be filming.
When you’re expecting 300 extras on set for these big battle scenes, and then you arrive in the morning and find you’ve got 37 extras, you have to adapt. I was excited to shoot the big battle scenes, but when I saw the number of extras, I had to think creatively. Some people were like, "No, we can’t work with this," but others were more flexible. So, we worked with what we had. We made people run around in circles, had them change hats, and just got creative. It was fun.
You’re just making people do laps.
(Laughs) Yeah, sometimes they’d ask, "What are we doing? How long are we going to do this?" I’d just tell them to keep going. It’s all part of the creative process.
Although I haven’t watched the film yet, I’m assuming it has a lot of dramatic moments, but also plenty of emotional ones. Without spoiling the film, could you share some of your favourite scenes to shoot?
Temuera Morrison is absolutely amazing in this film. He’s a really good friend and a relation, and he absolutely kills it in this role. All of his scenes are my favourites. The story revolves around a boy and a girl, and I love exploring hidden romance between characters on opposing sides. There are moments of teenage curiosity and love—wondering if they’ll get together, if they’ll kiss. I wanted to capture that magic and make viewers recall similar nostalgic moments in their own lives. Those scenes were really fun to shoot. There are also some deeply emotional parts that set the tone of the film. The music, done by Tiki Taane and Arli Liberman, is brilliant. They created a soundtrack under intense time pressure, but it’s amazing. The tone of the film is established from the first frame—it’s both sad and happy. We had to delve into the brutality of war and its impact on people, raising questions about why we do these things. The film delves into those themes throughout. All those questions are asked in the movie.
I want to ask you about the title of the film itself. 'Struggle without end' comes from the 1990 book. With the book and your film, a major theme in both of them is about reclaiming history and telling it from your perspective. Could you tell me how significant the title is to the film, to your work and just to yourself?
Ka Whawhai Tonu - Struggle Without End is the title that we chose. It's the struggle. The title can also be translated as 'to fight forever'. And us as Maoris, indigenous people have to fight forever in the modern world that we live in. So it's something that reflects everything. Every battle that's going on: Palestine, from the Kanak people in New Caledonia to our mob friends in Australia that are going through all sorts of stuff, Pacifica, and Native Americans and Native Canadians, and to the Sami people in the North. We all going through these struggles and so, Ka Whawhai Tonu. You take it for what you want: you're either going to struggle further or you're going to fight forever. To me, it means 'When will we ever stop saying that?' You know, 'When will be the day when we can say we don't have to struggle forever, or we don't have to fight forever?' It's reflection of equality, that it's okay to partner with us, it's okay to co-govern. So that said the title is really deep. It's really deep and goes on so many levels. And even though we had a bit of struggle with just calling it Ka Whawhai Tonu and questioning if certain people overseas are gonna be able to pronounce it. From this battle, Rewi Maniapoto, the chief, yelled this out to people, to William Meir and the British. He said "Ka whawhai tonu mātou," which is we will fight you forever. "Mō ake ake ake!," — forever and ever and ever. I suppose that's what we mean by echoing the voices of our ancestors because we still say that thing during our protests, our marches, our disagreements with our own government, and to fight forever. My wish will be, and I probably won't see it in my lifetime, would be looking forward to the time when we don't need to say that anymore.
As a student publication, we have a lot of aspiring filmmakers amongst our readership. So what's one thing that you hope audiences and these young directors and young writers take away from watching your film?
It's all in the title really — Ka Whawhai Tonu — fight on forever and ever and ever. And, this is what I did since I was anine year old. I watched Utu by Jeff Murphy and it blew my mind. I knew what I wanted to do, from then on, to become a filmmaker, to do the same thing and inspire people. So I just kept on that track and just didn't stop and got to a roadblock, and just went around or through it. And you'll get all sorts of things from people saying 'you can't do this because you're this and that,' and I just won't listen. Movements are created by people objecting, to you to putting up roadblocks and say just keep going. People will make rules — they say can be broken. Or we just go straight through the middle of those rules and find a way. So it's all about not giving up. And as cheesy as it sounds, it's been a my motto for a long time. And it's true. Just can't give up.
