The story of Dame Whina Cooper, who in 1975 led a 640km march protesting the seizure of Māori land, may not be familiar one here. In New Zealand however, the impact was seismic, and she was recognised as Te Whaea o te Motu (‘Mother of the Nation’) by her people. James Napier Robertson and Paula Whetu Jones‘ biopic is standard fare, too respectful to be truly dynamic, but still hits a stirring note through fine performances.

Whina traces the life of the woman born Hōhepine Te Wake from birth through to her most triumphant moment, briefly touching on a feisty youth constantly at odds with the local white authorities. Born to lead, she takes over the role of local tribal leader following the death of her father. She overcomes the death of two husbands, her banishment from her people after an affair, and poverty and injustice in the lead-up to the march in 1975, which saw her regain national attention, having largely withdrawn from politics in 1957.

The directors, co-writing with James Lucas weaves two strands of Whina’s life together; a largely chronological narrative which takes Whina up to the events of 1975, and the March itself. Mixing archive footage of the march in with reenactment, it’s difficult not to think of the Selma to Montgomery marches synonymous with Martin Luther King Jr, and Rena Owen as the older Whina has something of that bubbling charisma.

Those who grew up in the ’90s will remember Owen as the indomitable Beth Heke in the legendary drama Once Were Warriors. She brings much the same magnetic, stoic qualities to Whina. Yet it’s Miriama McDowell that gets the bulk of screen time as Whina from young adulthood into middle age. It’s no fault of McDowell, whose younger Whina you could easily believe would become the stately elder of Owen’s depiction, but it’s in this more generic retelling that Whina loses its impact.

Crucial moments – at which Whina’s life seems to correspond to larger national issues – are giving a glossy self-importance that can’t avoid lapsing into melodrama. The loss of her second husband William Cooper (Vinnie Bennett) is a good example of this. The impact is of a woman fueled towards greatness by her traumas, rather than a woman who overcame them to achieve something extraordinary. There’s a ‘written-in-the-stars’ sense of destiny about it all that seems to undermine the earthiness and quiet dignity of Whina’s own story.

It can’t be denied however that Whina is a stirring story about a person who became pivotal in the the recent history of their country. It suffers from too many of the standard biopic tropes and leans slightly towards hagiography – you feel that her affair with Cooper prior to the death of her first husband would have been left out if it wasn’t so pivotal – but it’s difficult not to be moved come its conclusion. It’s heartening to know too that Whina Cooper lived to see her efforts appreciated, passing away in great old age in 1994.

A second screening of Whina take place on Fri 19 Aug 2022 at Vue Omni 12 @20@45