The story of New Zealand’s former leader is both informative and unfinished in the documentary Prime Minister.
Prime Minister is a documentary about New Zealand’s fortieth Prime Minister and Labour Party leader Jacinda Ardern from 2017 through 2023. Ardern has the distinction of being the youngest woman head of government and the second elected head of government to give birth during her term (technically, the first to give birth to a girl). Now living in Massachusetts, she reflects on her life in the public eye. This deeply conventional documentary includes exclusive home video that her husband, Clarke Gayford, shot and gave to the filmmakers. Though appearing intimate, the film is actually playing it safe and feels dull when living in the constant trauma that current political leaders inflict on their constituents.
For those unfamiliar with Ardern, she is one of the few Western leaders who successfully responded to the COVID-19 pandemic (if lives lost is the metric used to rate her performance). She also spearheaded gun control reform, fought for the right of women to access to medical care, rallied against climate change, and tried to prevent crimes against Muslims and Asian people. Ardern is depicted as a relatable, decent every woman who also happens to have a high-profile job that she excels at. Her most countercultural moment is crying while conducting a meeting about COVID-19 before a major press conference.
Family history.
Prime Minister only offers glimpses of her life prior to 2017, which shows a montage of home video footage from when she was a blonde youngster. Apparently Lucy Lawless is not the only world-famous Kiwi who sported darker hair as she advanced her career. The montage also reveals that Ardern only gets skinnier over time (even while pregnant) thus showing the stress of holding office. The best part of the documentary is how Ardern occasionally discloses the mental toll of her position, which makes her even more relatable. “I don’t think that I’ll ever feel comfortable with it,” she says. “It will always come with a commitment.” No need for a sword, Ardern’s way of fighting is fundamental decency, kindness, and collectivism though she feels anger. It is muted and brief.
This montage omits the usual expected details of biographies, including her former religion as a Mormon and her departure from it because of the church’s stance on LGBTQ issues. Prime Minister sticks to safer images from pregnancy to motherhood, which are only radical because this timeline is the worst. Most of the world’s population has had this experience which, makes the doc be a bit of a slog. It also makes her relatable as her quotidian home life with her then-partner features the same issues as anyone experiences (eating her food, pretending to do housework, bids for attention as she works) but it’s revolutionary to see him function as the one who takes care of their baby while she works. In the US, unmarried parents (especially male caregivers) would be the source of debate and handwringing, but it only offers another glossy segway with breathless, bland questions about possible nuptials.
The footage mostly includes archival clips from press conferences, interviews and speeches. Without the home video footage, there isn’t a lot of revealing material. Prime Minister needs to be as insightful as it wants to be informative. If any school kid receives an assignment to write an essay about a world leader, this documentary is the perfect CliffNotes version guaranteeing an easy A. With Prime Minister starting in the present with fits and starts describing the project, the structure has the effect of delaying the narrative’s momentum before proceeding chronologically. If you’re expecting that Ardern’s frank nature will be controversial, don’t. It only displays more basic human dignity, which again is only shocking compared to the callousness of other world leaders.
Mirror to America.
Prime Minister highlights how America’s Presi-don’t is a constant, irrelevant foil that people compare Ardern to in the hopes of ginning up some fireworks, especially considering that Presi-don’t is Ardern’s antonym. The documentary only raises the pulse as his New Zealand supporters become a real epidemic. Ardern is horrified and puzzled about outside agitators, but that language inadvertently hits different in the US considering that it discredited homegrown civil rights leaders with just grievances. To be clear, Ardern is right to describe the lawless, violent protestors as such since they are speaking out against protocols that do not exist according to Ardern. It would be easy to confuse them with the group that visited the US Capitol on a random day in January 2021.
Any New Zealander waving a Presi-don’t flag may be homegrown but are unlikely to have legitimate grievances other than their explicit misogyny against “some girl in a skirt” and desire to inflict violence on anyone who disagrees with them. If this documentary has irreplaceable, unique value, it’s the way that it illustrates an explosion of hostility against public women figures regardless of their demeanor. Any woman, even one as mild as Ardern, becomes an enemy, especially if she dares to espouse any values that are not radically regressive or self-hating. It mirrors the criminal threats that Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer faced.
Later in Prime Minister, an indigenous woman protesting is conflated with the “illegal protestors” fighting against COVID-19 protocols, which resulted in setting the Parliament on fire (chronicled in the film). However, the language that she uses sounds somewhat different as if about sovereign, not inflated accusations of fascism and Nazi comparisons. When indigenous people are explicitly shown or referenced, it’s typically in a superficial manner. It felt like a glaring omission to not include more context about the traditional Māori cloak (a korowai) that Ardern often wears at public appearances, which reveals that the Māori are honoring her as a powerful figure. It’s always good to show and not tell, but when a white passing woman awards the korowai to her, more overtly indigenous women are standing silently behind. There are performers in traditional dress cheering her on. Seen, barely heard.
The bottom line.
Prime Minister is a hagiographic film that shies away from nuance, preferring to stick to the sunny side of the street in simple truths of good versus bad, fearing that any grey will detract from Ardern’s ambitious and laudable record. It even tracks to the way that they film spaces that Ardern occupies. The documentary almost feels like magnificent paradise tourism videos of New Zealand and Cambridge. When snow is shown, it signifies how COVID-19 is affecting other countries, not New Zealand. It snows in Cambridge, but Ardern occupying Harvard is catalogue perfect with the sun hitting the brown stone buildings under the clear, cloudless sky. Ardern must be tough to be a kind leader. She can handle bad weather and carry an umbrella. Neither will diminish her. To preserve access to a high-level figure, deference outweighs artistry, and while this documentary is fine, it does not stand out.
Prime Minster is now playing in select theaters. Watch the trailer here.
Images courtesy of Magnolia Pictures and Magnet Releasing. Read more articles by Sarah G. Vincent here.
REVIEW RATING
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Prime Minister - 6/10
6/10
Originally from NYC, freelance writer Sarah G. Vincent arrived in Cambridge in 1993 and was introduced to the world of repertory cinema while working at the Harvard Film Archives. Her work has appeared in Cambridge Day, newspapers, law journals, review websites and her blog, sarahgvincentviews.com.
