By Tupuola Terry Tavita

Tusi Tamasese’s debut film The Orator may swirl around a dwarf, but there is certainly nothing short about this film.

In fact, it’s a film of many tall contrasts.As harsh as it is gentle, brutally honest without being precious. A film that says a lot in saying very little. Silence can be such a powerful medium.  

To say that it is a gripping film would be untrue. The Orator is carried by the shortcomings – and quiet ambitions – of its characters.

And like the characters, Tamasese shrewdly underplays his hand to bring this story – well, more like a window – to life.

Tusi Tamasese (middle) with cast of The Tulafale also pictured NZ High Commission His Excellency Nick Hurley

Too many movies tend to be spoiled by long-winded narratives and unnecessary character development. The Orator is very short on narrative and very long on the assumed.

For instance, Vaaiga, the dwarf Saili’s wife has been banished from her village for 17 years. She also has a 17 year-old daughter. It is left to the audience to assume why she was banished. And with our knowledge of the nu’u, a daughter – who appears to be of high standing in her a village – can only be banished by committing a severe offense such as being in a relationship with someone like the faifeau (pastor), or even worse, incest.

The Orator – again in saying very little – also avoids presenting the audience with stereotypical cardboard characters. It is about bad people who are capable of some kindness and what appears to be good people incapable of any kindness.

Saili – for instance – is a short man with a short fuse, short on words but never short on heart. Sio – the big, skirt-chasing rugby player – pleads for his life when a bush-knife is at his throat.  Poto – Vaaiga’s brother – is a sly silver-tongued orator who knows his limitations.

To say that it is based on authentic faasamoa is also untrue. The Orator is about people – and their, well, shortnesses – that showcases faasamoa as an art form.

The cinematography is superb. Employing some sweeping frames of mountain greenery and garden flora.

It is used metaphorically to soothe (eg, nonu leaves) some of the film’s awkward edges. What Albert Wendt calls ‘dark pauses that don’t heal’.

The film’s roughness is also smoothed out with some slap-stick humour – especially with the rugby team – interspersed throughout the movie.

Who knew Samoan oratory can be so engaging on the big screen? Tusi keeps the run of words simple and idiomatic.

After Saturday’s premiere, some people in the audience were already talking about a sequel. This is Tusi Tamasese’s signature film, this column thinks. He has already opened and closed this window. It’s perfect as it is and nothing more needs to be told.

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