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Well, my name is Peter Wells. I was born in Auckland. Um, and I'm very much an Auckland. My parents came from small towns. My mother came from Napier here. My father from, um And, um I went to university in Auckland, and I had the good fortune really to coincide with the very, very beginnings of gay liberation at Auckland University. So I went to the first meetings [00:00:30] of you know, what was called the Gay Liberation Front at Auckland University, and that was a wonderful time, really, To be young and coming out. And it was the time of, um, David Bowie. Um, changes. Um, it was a very energised sort of time, really? And it just changed my life completely. [00:01:00] Really. Um, the coincidence of that. And, um, I veered away from my background, which was probably which was very conservative and became more involved in sort of politics and gay politics. Especially, um, I. I got a postgraduate scholarship and went to the University of Warwick to study Edward Carpenter, who was [00:01:30] an early um, He was the first British writer to suggest that homosexual men and women should have equal rights apart from Jeremy Bentham, I must have. Um But when I was after about two years of doing my doctorate, I really decided it wasn't really what I wanted to do at all. And I I became aware that I really wanted to become a, um a writer, a fiction or non-fiction [00:02:00] writer. And so I sort of abandoned my PhD and began writing, Um, And after I think four or five years in England, I came back to New Zealand because all my writing was about New Zealand. And, you know, I dreamt about New Zealand all the time in tech, Really. And, um and I thought, Well, I must come home. And so I came home to New Zealand and New [00:02:30] Zealand at that stage. We're talking about 1979 1980. Muldoon had been in power for I don't know how long and New Zealand New Zealand was as if asleep. It was absolutely extraordinary, I suppose, particularly coming back from Britain, which was so politicised and energetic and things like that. Um and I met when I came back. I met Stuart Mayne, who became my partner, and he was involved in the really what was the nascent film industry [00:03:00] at that time. And he was a boom operator for various, um, early feature films. Um, um, trying to think of the directors now, Jeff Murphy and those sorts of people, Um, and through him, really, I became involved in the film industry. So called, although, really, it was just a cottage industry. And at that time, and, um, everyone who worked in the film industry wanted to become [00:03:30] a director to a degree, you know, and Stuart, of course, wanted to become a director. And a friend of his was making a film about the car culture on Queen Street. Um, Blythe, his name was surname was and Stuart was working on it, and I think I might have even produced the film at that stage. I was a proof reader working in the Herald at nights, Um, and after I'd finished in the Herald, I would go down to [00:04:00] Queen Street in the middle of the night where they were making this film and observe them making the film. And I became very aware of the fact that the whole stories telling side of film was a great weakness, and I felt as a writer or or as a creator of narratives. I could perhaps do something about that. And, um, because it was a period in which everyone was doing everything in film. Um, I got together with [00:04:30] a a friend of mine, Tony Thompson, and we made AAA short film called Foolish Things. Um, him doing the camera work and me writing the narrative. And, um, Stuart edited it, and I got her creative New Zealand grant to post produce it. And, um, that sort of launched me into filmmaking. Really? Um, it was just 11 minutes long, and, [00:05:00] um, it was sort of overtly homosexual. Um, and it's I suppose all my early fonts took place within the framework of the fact that homosexuality was illegal in New Zealand. And always, I was trying to push the envelope about visibility and about, um, sort of pushing for a presence and [00:05:30] the culture. Really? Um, uh, from the standpoint of the present day, it's almost impossible to project back to a time in which television really had no presence of homosexual characters at all, Um, overtly and, um in in soaps and dramas and things like that. Um, Or to the extent that they did exist. They were always, um, figures of [00:06:00] fun and sort of ridiculous sort of figures. Um, whereas I was more interested in giving a sense of a of a, um, ordinary drama, I suppose, and positioning gay people at at at at at the sort of centre of the narrative just by showing this is what it can be like. Um, so the foolish things, oddly enough, became quite [00:06:30] a successful little film. Um, and it became a short. It was shown as a short in Australia before tax, which was a very successful German period. Taxi to the toilet, it was called. This is all pre aids. Um, and that gave me quite a bit of confidence, um, to go on film making. Although I should hop back for a [00:07:00] moment and say that foolish things actually came about because I was I. I reacted so strongly to Richard Turner's gay feature film, uh, which was pioneering in many, many ways. Um, squeeze What was? I don't know if it was called the or the squeeze, but I really didn't like it at all. And I felt such didn't It seemed to me narratively [00:07:30] banal with the very strong opinions that you have when you're younger and very unforgiving opinions that you have when you're younger. So, in a way, he kicked me off into filmmaking because I really made foolish things as a, um as a contrast to the squeeze and I, I made it consciously lyrical and poetic and, um, with a strange narrative structure and things like that. Um, were you [00:08:00] aware of gay films? How many have you seen? How well I'd come from London and seen films which completely, utterly sort of blew my mind. Um, the bitter tears of peon can, um, you know, And, um, I was also very aware of, um that was terrible. Um, the English filmmaker, um, [00:08:30] who made jubilee, and, um, I'll think of his name in a minute. Derek Charman. Yeah. So Derek Jar's film that were coming out. Um, and so there was this sense of a whole sort of immensely creative period existing elsewhere, And it just seemed because New Zealand was captured in this terrible time zone with Muldoon and things like that. And and it was a much less globalised [00:09:00] world then, um, so that it seemed when I was in London, I was seeing all this very creative, productive work, which you did all sorts of things with narrative and was very, um, kind of strong. Um, And then when I came back to New Zealand and saw the squeeze, it just seemed to me a sort of rather a kind of melodrama. Really? Um, so that just pushed me into filmmaking. How was foolish things received? Um, well, it it was received. It was [00:09:30] received. Well, um, it was used as a short in the film festival, just as they are these days. And I also combined with, um uh, three other filmmakers, Um, and we showed our short films together and because there was something subversive about the whole thing of it, it really did attract a kind of a an audience and not a huge audience at all, But it attracted a kind of a, um, urban audience. [00:10:00] And it also coincided with, um, there was a feature film maid at the time. Strata made, um with immense amount of effort and things like that. And it so turned out that our short films made more money than this feature film. And a A. At that time, there was a huge, um, emphasis on feature films that was sort of like only feature films could exist, and only feature films were legitimate. So the [00:10:30] small group of, um, short film makers that I was working with, um pressured the film commission to essentially create what became a short film fund and actually take short film as seriously as a kind of an art form and as a sort of a as you know, as a thing in itself, um, so foolish things it did. It did. It found an audience. It did find, find an audience. Really? Can you give me a sense of what it was like [00:11:00] to be gay in the late seventies and early eighties in New Zealand? Uh, because we're talking that it was still illegal. Yeah, well, uh, it was a very explosive, ugly situation. Um, in many ways, because you were you were illegal. Um, if you were politicised you, you were [00:11:30] placed in quite an awkward situation and that there was one gay pub in Auckland, Um, and as a politicised gay person, if you were wearing a badge and of course, we all wore badges, you weren't allowed in. And so you know, it was a sort of, like, a strange environment of, um, a sort of well established closet world. If you if you like, that would have nothing to do with politics at all, because it meant coming out and all the ramifications that mean in terms of employment [00:12:00] and family and things like that. And then there was a sort of little politicised world where we were sort of fighting for, um, homosexual rights, really, through marches and political agitation. And we used to do political theatre and and stuff like that. Um, it it it was a strange world because there was so little information available. You know, there was just so little information available about, um, [00:12:30] about the whole broader story. Really? Um, I mean it. It was also an exciting time, I suppose, because it felt like change was inevitable, Which it was, of course. So, um, yeah, what effect do you think? Uh, the gay liberation front had on you, Um, enormous ab, absolutely enormous. Really. It changed my whole life, really? [00:13:00] And the way I was and the way I saw the world and I made enormous friends and, um, just changed everything really? I think I went from being probably a very, very isolated teenager. I went to an all boys school, Um, which was both highly homo erotic and extremely homophobic at the same time. Which is a pretty toxic combination, really. I suppose, [00:13:30] like, all male, all male institutions, Really? And I think that damaged me a lot. Really? There was a lot of bullying went on there. When I look back now, at the time, I just thought that was how the world was. But I see looking back, I mean, I was quite severely bullied. Really? Um, to the degree, really, I lost a voice. I really couldn't speak in public at all. I couldn't talk in public at all. Um, because every time I spoke at school, I was [00:14:00] sort of, uh, persecuted because I had an effeminate voice. Supposedly, Um although I did fight back, I did bite back with wit and things like that, and that always frightened people who who who bullied me because they didn't like what I said. And they they would be very shocked at the sharpness of what they said. So I did fight back, but it was pretty much a difficult situation. So going to university and finding [00:14:30] this whole compatible world of people who've all been through, I suppose similar kind of experiences meant there was a kind of explosive force. Really? Um, we sort of exploded against each other and, um, had a fantastic time. I haven't said that at the same time. Yeah, the dominant narrative. When I when I came out, which is about 1971 72 the dominant narrative was was a very [00:15:00] tragic one. You know, for homosexual men and women. I mean, it was a terrible when you looked at what was meant to be your life. It was really very. I mean, you didn't realise that the negative stereotype that you were faced with all the time was a way of oppressing you. It just seemed like that was all that was offered to you. That was what life possibly was [00:15:30] like. You know, people committed suicide or you know what I mean Or drank themselves to death or got bashed up. Um, you know, I mean, it was a not a not a pleasant kind of narrative that that you felt surrounded by, um but and yet at the same time you were trying to change all that and have a kind of love affairs and change the way you lived and, um, the way the whole narrative went So [00:16:00] it was a It was a complex, I think a very complex negotiation, Really. I think so. When you start putting gay characters on film, what is the response from the gay community at that time? Well, you see, the gay community was so broken into all these different what was very severely divided between politicised people who were a tiny minority, and people who who weren't out, who resented [00:16:30] and felt insecure, that you were making their life difficult. And, um, why were you doing it? And you know, they, I mean because I wasn't in in that world. It took me many years later to realise that there were some amazing stories from within that world and that the world within that world there were these sort of wildly flamboyant gay men that had sort of wonderful lives and things like that, which at the time, I didn't understand really at all. Um [00:17:00] So I, I think in that period, because the whole gay liberation thing fed into feminism or of feminism and all sorts of other things to do with racial equality and things like that. There was a whole kind of lift in the, I suppose, and it was just part of this great big explosion. Really what I think of it. And what about, uh, the difference between constructing a film and and writing? [00:17:30] What? What what were the differences from there? As time went on, I felt the the the difference is becoming bigger and bigger. Really. Writing is a lovely, solitary dream world in which you control absolutely everything. Um, and film is by its nature collaborative. And you can only ever do one small part of it. So they're very ultimately they're tremendously different, [00:18:00] really? So that with writing, you can do everything to a degree. I mean, you can't print the books, but you can create a whole world, whereas with film, all you can hope to do is is do one part of it, and then you enter this sort of negotiation to make it happen. And I think in a way, probably why I left filmmaking in the end was because the the negotiation to make things happen was so lengthy, so sapping, so exhausting that it it didn't seem worthwhile [00:18:30] As a creative person, I just wanted to keep producing and not be sort of stalled in a in a kind of nego endless negotiation to get things done. Having said that, I I also enjoyed the collaborative process enormously, you know, And, um, like when I made, um, Jules Dial and the about face series, I consciously chose Anne Kennedy's story about the day in the life of a sort of transsexual because I knew [00:19:00] it would outrage people. I knew it would annoy people enormously. Um, and, um, it was a It was a It was a deliberate decision of mine to actually make something that that, um, that would would flout the rules of television and everything at that time. And you see, if you look at it, it's 1985 and it was made within the kind of that period of the homosexual law reform. Um, [00:19:30] aids had just was had really just started exploding everywhere. And, um, it was, uh, made for television and for the cinema. But it was made. I felt expressly to I don't know, it would be a disruptive sort of narrative. Really? Um, how easy was it to make something like that when you've got such a politically charged atmosphere? Um, well, it was we [00:20:00] were very lucky, really, In that it was produced by Bridget I and, um, within a kind of, um, an area that television allowed. They had this tiny little area for independent production where they sort of, you know, allowed you to actually do something. And so they farmed out these sort of, um I don't think six dramas, um and we all took one each. And, um, they were low budget dramas. [00:20:30] They were a big step up. I had only made two short films before that, um, one was 11 minutes and one was 17 minutes and was, like a half hour of drama. And it's a sort of a hugely big jump, funnily enough to make a half hour drama, and it seemed to be very well received. It was a sort of a It was beautifully shot. I must say. It was very beautifully shot by Stuart Dr who went on to be a, you know, major kind of international cinematographer. [00:21:00] And it was the first time. One of the things about the Jules darlin this whole series was people were given a chance to change their classification within the film industry. So, you know. So I became a director, and people like, um, Stuart Dr who who really had been AAA lighting person up until that time became a cinematographer. So it was a chance for people to try to sort of upskill in a way. And what was that, like [00:21:30] being your first directing role? Piing overwhelming. Um, wonderful. It was all done in a studio, apart from things that we did outside. Um and, um I mean, we did some a cinema complex which was deliberately down there because it was so tacky. Um, it was very, you know, it was very exciting. I was very much under the influence of, too, at that stage. So it was very beautiful to look at and, um, [00:22:00] sort of artificial. And, um, it's still a very beautiful film. And if I see it, I think I still think that it's an amazing looking film. Really. I think, um, I recall Georgina by saying there was a a point when you were filming where there was actually a was a Salvation Army march going down Queen Street. That's right. Yes. And so you're actually able to tie in reality? Yes, that's right. We we waited in a doorway, and the Salvation Army at that [00:22:30] at that stage were collecting. It was that terrible time where they went door to door collecting signatures against the homosexual law reform. And, um so they were leading the campaign really against homosexual law reform. So they had a march down Queen Street with a band leading them and Georgina and the film crew had on the doorway. And as they marched down the street, we run out into front of the, um, March and Georgina and some of the other characters from the film sort of led the march down Queen Street. Much to the chagrin, [00:23:00] The Salvation Army? Yes. Is there any difference? Do you think in making something for television as opposed to making something that will be screened on a large cinema screen? Um, I think we were all cinema snobs. Really. We always thought cinema the cinema was a superior medium, you know, and shocked if we were shooting something for television, we always shot it as if it was for cinema. [00:23:30] Um, so it was always kind of, you know, it wasn't just, um, shots of kids head and shoulder shots, which television tends to be. So we tried. When we were shooting for television. We tried to make it as cinematic as possible. And that's certainly true for a death in the family. Also, what about in terms of how an audience receives the moving image? Is it different? Do you think seeing something on TV than, um [00:24:00] well, we we live now in a period in which cable television from America is presenting narratives which are more complex than they're almost in cinema at the moment. So, um, I don't sort of buy into that idea so much that that you have to sort of simplify things for television or popularise things to for a television audience or anything like that. I think you can if if you choose to, you can make [00:24:30] it as complex as you want it to for television, just as you would for a cinema. Really, I know it's a big ask, but, um, you mentioned a death in the family, which was I think it was 1986 and that was with Stuart May. So I was just wondering, can you talk to me a little bit about kind of collaborative relationship that you had? Um, really, all the films I made, um um were in association with Stuart. [00:25:00] Um, I don't know whether looking back up was a particularly good idea to actually live with someone and to work with someone in such an intense medium. Because it in a way, it has a sort of a claustrophobic sort of cell, like, um thing. But we certainly worked together and had a very creative, um, partnership in film. Um, where we, um, just worked very closely together, Um, [00:25:30] in a death in the family. Um, we were co directors, I think on that, um, and it was a huge support to be working with someone who was stoic and quite strong when we were consciously pushing the envelope on on many different levels. So it was great to actually be with someone It would have been. I would have found it very isolating [00:26:00] if I was just doing it on my own. So it was a kind of almost unnecessary partnership, in a way, um and the death in the family was all just like, um, Joel style was made both for cinema and for television, and the funding came. I think it was 50% from television and 50% from the film commission. I can't remember, but it was a sort of an equal thing. So it had a life as a 16 millimetre film. Um, [00:26:30] believe it or not, around the world and as a as a television film as well. Um, And it it I mean, by that stage in 1986 the whole HIV AIDS thing was sort of overwhelming the world there was at that stage, there was no, um you know, if you got HIV, you died. Really? Um, it was a very dark and ominous sort of period, really. And, um, death in the family [00:27:00] generally around the world was seen as a sort of AAA film, which told the story from the point of view of the, um, gay characters in the in the narrator rather than an early frost. And there were several other major sort of films of that period, most of which tended to frame the film almost entirely from the sort of heterosexual point of view. Um, [00:27:30] so it seemed to sort of hit a spot as, um as an attempt to give some idea of what it was like for a group of gay friends to look after another friend. Um, and, um, we went we went to America with that film. Um, in Australia. It was very well received in its period. It really was. It's hard for me, um, looking [00:28:00] back now, And, you know, we're 30 years since HIV AIDS was kind of first talked about to actually get a sense of what it was like to be right there, you know, five years into it. Well, it was terrible because, you know, we had the high excitement of, um, gay liberation, and I think white talks about it. You know, it was this thing of a sort of immense excitement to be followed by this absolutely terrible, um, you know, [00:28:30] a terrible period. Really. It was a very I think it was a very tough period. A very, very tough period, really. What was it like to make a film when you know when When the outcome at the time for people with HIV a I was a very it. It was, um at the time, [00:29:00] it felt to be a good thing that we were doing. And certainly the crew was very involved in it. And, of course, subsequent to that, my own brother Russell, got HIV and subsequently died. And I was placed in a very peculiar kind of an emotionally exposed position. I think because I've made a film about a death in the family and then lo and behold, you know, within a year or so, um, I also had a death in the family. And in a way, my own experience was, um, [00:29:30] necessarily different to the one portrayed in the film, I suppose, um, it Russell's death sort of changed my life. I think I think it was in all those moments of great crisis. You try and decide about what you really want to do in life. And at that point I began to think I really didn't want to do too much film anymore. I really wanted to become a writer. It was time I actually sat down and became did [00:30:00] what I really wanted to do in life. So really, it was a marking of a, um diverging of the paths between Stuart and me in terms of film and fiction and nonfiction and things like that, and and I became began to write and earnest and really desperate. Um, good intentions was a film I was made. It was one of the few times in my life where where I'd actually been approached to make a film, all these other films we I pushed for and [00:30:30] sort of created through pushing for them where Good intentions Channel four got in touch and said, Would I like to make a little postcard that they could show on Channel four, which was the loveliest sort of gift, you know? So so I made good intentions, which is a delightful little film. I don't think it's three or four minutes long, and it's just a little wee thing, which I made, which was very sweet and really desperate remedies. I wrote for Stewart as a passing sort of gift of our relationship and our our, [00:31:00] um, our working relationship. And it was written expressly to, um, launch Stewart as as a director. Um, and he always had this. I could never get to the bottom of it. He always had this thing where he wouldn't do public relations. He wouldn't give interviews and things like that. So I was always the person who fronted like a death in the family, which we actually [00:31:30] co directed. So everyone always thought I was the, um the the sort of creative heart of the film, Really? Whereas an where as an actual fact, we had always co directed, um And so in 1993 when we did desperate remedies, it was a thing in which I sort of cod directed with Stuart because that was what the funding people wanted, um, and insisted on because they thought I was the creative sort of, you know, person in the relationship. And, um [00:32:00] but really, it was to sort of launch um, Stuart as a director and we had a sort of wild time with us. It was pretty amazing Run with that. And yes, yeah, it it It had its own kind of mad following. And when I see it now, I still think it looks incredible. And it still makes me laugh because it's so outrageously [00:32:30] camp. It's just so outrageously camp. It's that's kind of wonderful. And, um, no, it's a fantastic kind of piece of artifice, I think. Do you often go back and and and view? No, no, not at all. Never really. But for some reason, I don't know whether it's Cliff Curtis. It seemed to be on Maori television quite a lot, Um, and certainly Cliff Curtis. And it is absolutely fantastic. That was his first major role. Really? [00:33:00] Um, and you know, So it was that nice thing where you were not expecting to see something, and then suddenly something's on on television and you watch a bit of it. And you think, Oh, my God, it's not so bad after all, just a year or so earlier. You, you you released dangerous desires. The short story. So that sort of established me as a writer. Um, and that was a really quite successful book. And I won the New Zealand Book Award, and it [00:33:30] sold in America and England. And it was a time in which sort of gay or queer fiction was particularly strong. So it came out and probably a very good time, I think. True. Um, so then we move on to one of them, which was made from a novella really from my first book, which I wrote, also made and wrote the screenplay for the Stewart to, um, direct, which was also an attempt to sort of push him out into [00:34:00] the world of a director. Is that the the kind of process that you follow in terms of, you know, writing, say, a novella, then turning it into a screenplay. The No, not consciously, No, not consciously really at all. Um, it just so happened that two novellas from my first book were made into films, which was sort of wonderful. Um, in a way, um, I think with my first book, I suppose what was there was all the stories I wanted to tell all my life went on to that, [00:34:30] you know? So perhaps they struck a chord because of that. It had a whole lifetime proceeding out the force and energy of that going into the book, I think. Can you compare your, um, written language with your visual language? Um, well, interestingly enough, when my book came out, all the critics said that that they were very similar and that they were both sort of ornate and highly visual, and it showed, you know, the book showed I was a filmmaker and everything like [00:35:00] that, which to me really seem slightly surprising. Um, although I have always been a highly visually tuned person and you know, when uh, one of the questions you asked me is what drew you to film, and I III I have actually written about that whole thing and and really, it is that as New Zealanders, we all grew up with this immense power of cinema. You know, it was the thing. We were such an isolated country, Um, earlier on and yet we [00:35:30] had if you went into your local cinema, you saw these kind of staggeringly amazing visual spectacles, you know, or sometimes huge sophistication. So of course they blew your socks off, you know? And of course, it seemed, um, an absolute dream that you could actually make a film. You know, it just seemed this extraordinary thing that you you yourself could try and make a film, you know, and make your own myths and things in the, uh, late nineties or in 1997 [00:36:00] you put out an anthology of gay New Zealand writing and there were blank pages in the book Can you tell me about that? Yes. Well, you know, by now we're 1997. So we're a long way into, um So it's what, 11 years after the homosexual law reform Bill and Rex Pilgrim and I decided we'd put together this anthology of gay writing, and we approached various states [00:36:30] of well known historical writers who we knew were gay or had been gay. And really, it was part of the sort of strangeness of the period, I suppose, is that a lot of them were most of their estates were actually controlled by straight men who was obviously sympathetic to the the the the person who, you know, they were great friends with whoever it was [00:37:00] as the state they were managing. But it was their idea that you actually protected the person from the sort of dishonour of of being known as gay so that at that stage, nobody really knew Frank Sarge was gay publicly, you know, it wasn't known. It was just that he'd written these strange, enigmatic stories. Um, the whole that jack dug. And, um, you know, these sort of strange things. So [00:37:30] it was all very coded and kept behind the scenes. So basically, with, um, about four of these form important writers, um, we weren't allowed to use their writing, so we the way we expressed this form of censorship was to just put their name at the top of the page and leave the page blank. And so it seemed extraordinary, so late in the piece that we were still facing [00:38:00] this sort of real timidity, Really. And a real misunderstanding of what we thought we were doing was directing younger readers to the existence of these people. So, in a way, we thought we were keeping their work alive. You know where the people looking after their estates? I don't know what they thought. I think they thought we were dishonouring them. And, you know, it was the same. True of the cover image that was used. Yes. Yes, that [00:38:30] was a peculiar thing, too, because we came across this very, very beautiful Winkleman photograph of, um, him yachting and in the harbour and kissing quite a love. It's a beautiful, beautiful image. Really. And, um, Rodney Wilson, who was then the director of the Auckland Museum, refused to give us permission to use it, which was extraordinary. And once [00:39:00] again, you know, looking back, it was a real misunderstanding of what was involved. He was worried because the man being kissed was a of the Wilson and Horton family, you know, very wealthy publishing family and were great friends of the museum and gave money to the museum. And he thought it would offend the Hortons. I don't think he ever asked them. So he acted proactively and, um, thought he was protecting them. You know, um, [00:39:30] and he just said we couldn't use it at all. Um, and I don't know, looking back, it's pretty amazing. We just went ahead and used it anyway. And it is a very beautiful book. Still, I think when I look at, I think it's a very fine book. Those kind of situations Do they shape the way that you want your creative legacy dealt with? Um, it certainly makes you aware of the ambiguities [00:40:00] that can can crop up. Um, I don't foresee any problems in my own, um, writing? I don't know. Yeah, II, I guess, For example, like, I mean, would you be wanting to donate like, diaries or to archives? And would you have any stipulations, you can access some things I would [00:40:30] just to protect other people. Really? II. I mean, I think something like a time lag 10, 20 years or something like that is quite useful, really, In terms of protecting other people. And, um, from essentially personal information, I think. Hm. In the early two thousands, you did still do a number of, uh, moving [00:41:00] image works, and one was the Georgie Girl documentary. Now, what was it like to work with her again? Um, it was it was very difficult. Really. Um, I'd known Georgie when she was, um, of course. You know, when we did, um, about and at that stage, she was a performing artist at, um, a little gay nightclub on Queen [00:41:30] Street. She was in a sort of an underworld. Um, And then, of course, she subsequently emerged into this sort of phenomenon of the, um, the first transgendered person to become a member of parliament. Which is what caught Annie Golden's eye, who was a co-director with Georgie girl. And and he got in touch with me because she knew I had worked closely with Georgina and knew Georgina well, And she was a friend of mine and is a friend of mine. [00:42:00] Um, so I became the, um co-director on it. We structured Gina at a period in which she was becoming disillusioned with being being an MP. She'd become aware, really, of how, um, onerous. It really was on her personal life. She was teeing on the point of, um, of throwing the whole thing in at the point we were making the film, so she was very ambiguous about [00:42:30] us. Um, you know, uh, following her around. So she was often touchy and bad tempered and things like that. It wasn't an easy film to make at all. Um, and, uh, and he shaped a sort of triumphant test documentary out of it, which, in a way, was not really the reality of the story which subsequently emerged. You know, that Georgina [00:43:00] really didn't feel at home in that world at all. Completely understandably, Parliament's a horrible place. Um, it was it was a very interesting experience. And the whole documentary was sort of grounded on a long. The narrative line of the documentary was based on a long, long interview I had with Georgina, um, which was a a very interesting experience, and at the time, and he thought she'd make the whole documentary based [00:43:30] on the narrative line of the interview I did with Georgina. But subsequently that didn't, um, transpire. Um, it was, I mean, it became a wildly successful documentary, you know, which was wonderful. And I think it's triumphant as sort of take was part of it being so wildly successful. Um, but as we subsequently know, [00:44:00] I mean, I've often thought it would be. Now would be an interesting time to actually talk to Georgina about what she thinks of the whole the whole experience that she went through, not not in the film, but of being an MP and stuff like that because it must have been such a strange experience, really. Because on one hand, she was. So she was that really imprisoning and difficult thing of being a role model, which I think is such [00:44:30] an ambiguous position to be in. But she was a role model within a Labour government that really didn't want her to push too far, because by that stage with Helen Clark, there was such a strong identification of, um of of, uh of sort of homosexuality with the Labour government that they really didn't want Georgina to push for transgender rights. And And I think Georgina [00:45:00] found the whole foreshore, um, kind of, um, dispute incredibly difficult for her as a as a, you know, as a Maori woman. She found it, I think heartbreaking because she was being pulled in all these different directions and also not really being allowed to do what she really wanted to do, which was to push for transgender rights, you know? So, I, I think it was I think you could probably have a very interesting, very candid [00:45:30] conversation with Georgina now, about the real politic of of that period. I don't think the film covers the real politic. I think it hints at it at times, but it that wasn't its narrative. Around the same time, you did a very personal film with Jonathan Dennis, who was one of the founders of the New Zealand Film Archive, and it was as he was dying of cancer. What was that like to [00:46:00] film someone so close to you? Well, you know, it was very, very awkward, and I don't know whether looking back, I should have just said no. Really because he asked me to do it. Um, I was staying at his house, and he sort of asked me to sort of crack on the sort of his final days. Um and, um, I haven't looked at it. [00:46:30] I must say, for a long time. I don't know what I think. If I looked at it now, it was a, um Both are moving in a desperately sad period. Really? I think you know, he was a wonderful as you. As you get older, one death unlocks all all other deaths. [00:47:00] You know, it unlocked a great sense of unhappiness about my brother's death. Um, I don't know what I think. If I saw it now, I, I hope I like it. I tried to treat the whole thing with respect, and, um, I tried to give a sense of the way he was looked after. So Well, yeah, True. And also his sort of [00:47:30] amazing personality. Really? How do you balance the kind of professional filmmaker and you wanting to get shots and also also being part of the experience? Um, I think it's something you, um I. I think all artists are red in tooth and claw. as as as as some sort of on some fundamental level. All [00:48:00] artists are devouring cold hearted monsters to a degree. Um, and that's something you live with and relate to or try and balance. Um, I think, um, aware at the same time of all your own frailties and, um, you know, failures and humanity and things like that. Mhm. [00:48:30] We're now in the Internet age, And, uh, many of your productions are now online. Um, how do you feel about, uh, people now the world over can see your work from from the eighties? Yes. I don't know what I feel about it. Really, I partly because the world it's like the whole world is cluttered that, you know, [00:49:00] we live in a primarily visual age. Um, and and it's sort of as if the whole world is cluttered with stuff. Yet at the same time, I, I myself like being able to sit at my computer and access all sorts of things globally. So So I like that. You know what I mean? I. I value the fact that you can access things. Really? That does seem incredible. Do you think you'll come back to film? Um I would like to. Yes, I would like to. [00:49:30] Yes, I. I will see how that goes, though I'm very at ease in writing, I must say, um, there's something about the philosophical quiet or whatever of writing that that appeals to me. No. I think one of one of the things that I I do find quite interesting as a writer is the transition from being seen as primarily a gay writer, which I was always called. You know, I was the [00:50:00] first gay writer in New Zealand, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Um, to trying to establish that I wasn't just I wasn't just a gay writer because I felt after a certain amount of time, I was being pigeonholed as that. And that's all I kind of was. You know, that's all I could do sort of thing. And I felt restless under that, um, the containment of that, um, [00:50:30] hanging out I. I suppose the whole experience of being homosexual to absence of a better term is that is that it changes all the time being homo being loving, being same sex, interested or whatever like that. It changes all the time. It changes. According to the period you're living in. But it also changes according to your own age, you know? And, um, so you're always sort of redefining it, Really? And I mean, of course, it will just go [00:51:00] on forever, won't it? You know, the the whole nature of it will just change and change and change. And, you know, when one thinks of how enormously it's changed, even in our lifetime Um so, in a way, when I became this sort of thing, the gay writer, you know, the gay writer of New Zealand, as if there was only one person I. I sort of felt restless under that, and I wanted to change that. So I consciously went about, um, trying to dispel or break that sort of one identification. [00:51:30] And, um subsequently, like with, um uh the hungry heart, the book I wrote on William Colino, the historical character I. I wrote that, um uh, in one part of it, I talk about con consciously talk about the whole, um, thing of trying to elude this thing. I've always been called a gay writer and, um, frame the narrative in terms of that as a dilemma. So I acknowledge [00:52:00] it. Um, But I also presented a book in which the sort of the gay narrative, um, wasn't the predominant one. So I tried to dispel that, um, thing that that's all I could do. It was sort of like I'm not just a one trick pony, you know, I can actually do all these other things. And, um, just as people like to And, um, you know, Alan has and people like that can can do these sort of [00:52:30] complex narratives which are more than the word gay writer might seem to, um, and play. It's it's interesting, because, I mean, that seems to happen a lot. You know, I'm thinking of, um, Grant Robertson, who was standing for the Labour Party leadership. And, you know, one of the narrative storylines was he, you know, is New Zealand ready for a gay prime minister? And then I remember Georgina by saying, you know, she was known as the world's first [00:53:00] trans member of Parliament, Not the fact that she was actually a good member of Parliament. Yes, which she was. Actually, I think she was very popular in the way or as a good MP. I mean it. It It is an interesting thing. I mean, at the moment. One of the projects I'm doing is I'm looking at a series of family letters that exist in my mother's family, and they're all No. One is notable at [00:53:30] all. No one is important. No one was a general or anything like that. They're essentially just letters from family members, one to the other. And I'm just sort of framing them in the historical period that they were written in and explaining a little bit about the background to them and who wrote them and things like that. And that tapestry of letters comes right down to a letter that I wrote to my mother and father when I was in England, right, which was a sort of a classic coming out letter. Um, [00:54:00] and, um, my mother saved it amazingly, and she gave it to me relatively recently and she said, Look, I want you to have this. It's such a moving letter and da da, da da and things like that, which absolutely amazed me because I remember so vividly. When she got the letter, she wrote back to me instant and said, Thank God I got to the letter box first and got that terrible letter you wrote and that your father didn't see it, you know, it would kill him to read that letter. [00:54:30] You must never write a letter like that again. And you know what I mean? The her actual response to it at the time was completely different. So, um, so the the narrative goes on, you know how you treat these things and being homosexual or whatever you call it. There's always a part of the way you see the world. Um, you know, I think even if it's not foregrounded, [00:55:00] that's still there in a way that you see the world, I think so. Sure motions.
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