A Woman of Good Character (1980) / Kahu and Maia (1994)

Television credits from directors of the auteurist type are always interesting to look at within the context of their work as a whole. Often considered to be works for hire, there are several instances where the TV work of certain directors does fit right in with the rest of their body of work. Take for example Abel Ferrara's TV film The Gladiator (1986). Despite Ferrara himself saying it was done strictly for a paycheck, the film nevertheless feels like an appropriate follow-up to films like Ms. 45 (1981) and Fear City (1984). Paul Verhoeven's contribution to the HBO anthology series The Hitchhiker, “Last Scene” and William Friedkin's episodes for the revamped Twilight Zone “Nightcrawlers” and Tales from the Crypt, “On a Dead Man's Chest” feature the signature traits of both Verhoeven and Friedkin making them so much more than mere cash grabs. One director who's taken some pretty peculiar trips into TV land is New Zealand based provocateur David Blyth. Looking at Blyth's list of credits, if one thing jumps out at being the most atypical it would be Blyth's stint directing four episodes of Mighty Morphin Power Rangers and four episodes of the White Fang series. Much more in line with the rest of his work however, are two TV projects made years apart, A Woman of Good Character and Kahu and Maia, two of the most curious entries in Blyth's filmography.

Moving out of the suburbs of Blyth's debut feature Angel Mine (1978) for the New Zealand countryside, A Woman of Good Character finds Blyth exploring a different kind of domestic Hell. Lizzie (Sarah Peirse), a young English woman, travels to New Zealand to work on a sheep farm and is immediately confronted with the harshness of her new surroundings and situation when Reginald, the son of the owner of the farm, shoots her small dog out of fear that it would frighten the sheep. It's the first of many confrontations between the two who are constantly at odds, their relationship becoming even more strained after Lizzie refuses Reginald's marriage proposal and later discovers his plot to secretly sell the farm without his fathers knowledge. Obviously being a TV movie and coming after a film like Angel Mine, A Woman of Good Character seems almost quaint at times though it's interesting to see Blyth continue the idea of seeking some sort of comfort in domesticity, albeit in vastly different manner to Angel Mine. Despite the New Zealand countryside being a gorgeous location, the film does an excellent job of making everything seem incredibly sinister and almost immediately establishes the unease of being in totally alien surroundings with no familiarity to be found. Of course the films biggest strength is Lizzie herself, Sarah Pierse, who despite facing one hardship after another is never docile, though her one mental break in the film is certainly memorable, allowing Blyth to show off his more horror-esque stylistic flair.

Fast forward 24 years later to 1994 and Kahu and Maia which found Blyth delving back into the realm of the esoteric with material much more in line with his genre work. Rooted in the mythology of the Māori, the indigenous people of New Zealand, the film is the story of a deadly love affair from centuries past threatening to disrupt the present when Kahu, a philandering wood carver sets his sights on Maia, a beautiful happily married mother, also a talented carver, coming between her and her husband just as his ancestor did before him, which resulted in the death of his mistresses husband. A fascinating and beautiful film, what's incredible about Kahu and Maia is how much it accomplishes in its brisk 45 minute run time. There's quit a bit of backstory to the central plot yet Blyth condenses everything so precisely nothing feels rushed and despite all the exposition throughout the film regarding the more supernatural aspects of the story, the film still retains this mystical aura the way it incorporates dreams, the idea of reincarnation and the predetermined destines of its characters. It also helps that the more magical elements of the story are taken at face value by a lot of the characters. There's hardly any skepticism to be found in the story which is refreshing. Then of course there are the wood carvings themselves, all authentic Māori carvings which play a crucial role in the film, particularity during the tension filled finale, and naturally are quite striking.

Due to the fact that in order to sell a film internationally the run time had to be over an hour to be considered a feature, A Woman of Good Character was later expanded by its producer into a feature and re-titled It's Lizzie to Those Close. Incorporating longer takes and random shots of Lizzie doing housework as well as voice-over narration, Blyth has stated that while he doesn't mind the longer version existing because at least people got to see all the material that was filmed, especially an unusual sequence of actor Bruno Lawrence who plays the mentally challenged brother of Reginald dancing around an idol of sorts constructed out of various pots and pans, the original, shorter cut is his preferred version. The longer cut did make its way to the A&E network in the mid-80's and in fact the story was adapted into a mini-series in 1985 called Ride the High Country. As for Kahu and Maia, Blyth has gone as far as saying that it's his personal favorite film of his. After years of it seemingly being lost to time, the films screenwriter Karen Sidney uploaded it to YouTube, which Blyth fully endorses so it's easily watchable and very much worth doing so as both it and A Woman of Good Character are interesting little detours from Blyth's feature work and set a high quality standard for TV films.

Angel Mine (1978)

Given the worldwide cult following of films like Bad Taste (1987), Meet the Feebles (1989) and Dead Alive (1992) AKA Braindead depending on the territory, its almost a given that whenever New Zealand is mentioned within the context of cult and genre film that Peter Jackson is the first name that springs to most peoples minds, however the true title of king of New Zealand cult film belongs to David Blyth. Best known to international horror fans as the man responsible for Death Warmed Up (1984), the first Kiwi horror film which earned the praise of Alejandro Jodorowsky, who gleefully dubbed the film “An apocalypse of slaughter”, Blyth was transgressing morality and outraging proper New Zealand society and film critics alike a good decade before Jackson arrived on the scene and has created a body of work filled with consistently interesting, often controversial and challenging material in both genre film and in the documentary field as well as some pretty curious television side roads along the way, including of all things, four episodes of Mighty Morphin Power Rangers during its first season in 1993! For his first feature, Blyth came out of the gate swinging in 1978 with the fierce and experimental Angel Mine, a film that was so ahead of its time it wound up working against it when it was first unleashed with many outright demanding stricter censorship because of it.

About as far removed from being conventionally plotted as possible, Angel Mine centers around a young married couple who's lovelife has long passed the dead end point. In a desperate attempt to bring some excitement back to their marriage, the two begin to act out fantasy scenarios inspired by advertisements, all the while their punk alter-ego's are on their way to snuff out their domesticated counterparts.

A thoroughly bizarre and berserk film, Angel Mine clearly has a lot on its mind. The biggest take away from the film would be that Blyth is offering a scathing critique of the idea of marriage but it goes deeper than that. While marriage does seem to be Blyth's biggest target, the film as a whole is an attack on the idea of giving in to society's expectations, when settling for domesticity can lead to banality which in turn leads to desperation. The film is structured in a way that it becomes increasingly difficult to tell what is explicit fantasy, so much so that at a certain point it feels as if the couples entire existence has become one continuous flight of fancy leading to several hysterically surreal moments. It's especially incredible to think the film was made in 1978 the way it accurately predicts the idea of things like reality television/social media and amateur pornography with the couple making and viewing their own sex tape as well as Viagra with the title Angel Mine stemming from a fictional product in the film advertised as a libido enhancing supplement. It's also worth pointing out that the film was five years ahead of David Cronenberg's Videodrome (1983) in its musing on how the public relates to media and how much the media truly influences the lives of everyone that consumes it. The film even takes a few detours from the main narrative in the form of some pretty hilarious and cleverly scripted fake commercials.

Angel Mine was the first film to get funding from the New Zealand Film Commission so Blyth was quite taken aback by all the vitriol hurled the films way by critics who deemed the film obscene and unfit for public consumption and again, some even demanding tighter censorship. While being interviewed for New Zealand's Screen Talk, Blyth admitted “I had no idea that it was going to create so much controversy and the vehemence of some of the critics was quite shocking to me... In a way it set me back and the truth is that after the initial controversy of Angel Mine I put the film in the cupboard so to speak and it was really another 10 to 15 years before I could even look at it again.” The film is also notable for having the brilliant note of “Contains Punk Cult Material” written on its 18A ratings certificate. Fast forward over 40 years and the film is now considered a crucial part of New Zealand film history, an irony that is not lost of Blyth who in the same aforementioned interview described the film as “young but significant”. Indeed, Angel Mine is an important piece of rebellious punk rock filmmaking. A rare instance of a film being literally incomparable to anything else and a film that marked the arrival of one of the most unique voices in worldwide fringe cinema.