
Directed by Paul Middleditch and Hamish Bennett, Uproar is a warmhearted 80s-set dramedy about finding your voice when all seems lost.
Set in Dunedin, New Zealand circa the early 1980s, Uproar follows the coming-of-age journey of 17-year-old Josh, a biracial student at a school for men attempting to fly under the radar several years after the death of his Maori father. Josh, alongside his British mother Shirley (Minnie Driver) and older brother Jamie (James Rolleston), lives life in survival mode these days as he struggles to determine what kind of person he will turn out to be during a time of political unrest in his country.
Co-director and co-writer Paul Middleditch’s semi-autobiographical film centers Josh as the filmmaker’s on-screen proxy. Despite his young age, Dennison is a seasoned actor who’s been working since 2013 in such films as Hunt for the Wilderpeople (2016) and Deadpool 2 (2018). And his latest role is a massive departure from his customary comedic characters. Jocks dominate his majority-white school and community, so despite Josh’s best efforts not to attract attention, he is different: Maori, not athletic looking, and a bibliophile. It also turns out that he has some unknown talents that emerge when he can no longer seek refuge in the school library at lunch time. His teacher Madigan (Rhys Darby) invites him to join the drama club, and it turns out all that reading paid off because Josh can recite Shakespeare from memory.
“I just thought it might be something you’d enjoy.”
Unfortunately, Shirley does not approve of Josh’s newfound interest because a career in the arts is not a secure profession. With Jamie’s help, Paul gets a spot on the rugby team and becomes a strong player, but he does not enjoy it, and his classmates still do not accept him. Shirley believes that if Paul pleases the school administration, then they will take care of their family for life. Her evidence: she is the school janitor. Jamie also encourages assimilation as practice for the real world, as Josh’s intellectualism makes him a weirdo. 1981 is a turbulent time for the nation, however, and Dunedin is not exempt from political turmoil.
At a time when South Africa was a pariah for apartheid, the New Zealand Rugby Union was willing to compete with them, which divided the country into three political factions. Principal Slane (Mark Mitchinson) and local hooligans (including some of the rugby players) are loud proponents of “We are all one people,” which sounds like a nice sentiment but was a severe slogan that could be equated with being color blind— not seeing color as another way to refuse to see a person — and unwilling to entertain the idea that there were any racial problems during this time.
Allies like Deborah (Hannah Marshall), a passionate community organizer, is against apartheid but oblivious to her dismissive attitude directed at fellow dissatisfied Maori protestors who would also like to decry domestic prejudice. The Maori peaceful protestors are Samantha (Erana James) and Auntie Tui (Mabelle Dennison, who is Julian’s real-life mother and a showstopper), a respected elder in the community.
“Any behavior that threatens our ideal will not be tolerated.”
This conflict spurs Josh and his best friend and Samoan neighbor Grace (Jada Ioane) — along with the Waaka family and other community members — into picking a side: the safe, but immoral position of choosing financial security versus the moral decision of acting in accordance with their beliefs. Because Josh is still young, he’s unsure of his viewpoints, which drives a wedge between him and Grace as she joins the Maori protestors without hesitation.
Josh finds himself at multiple crossroads: professional, ethnic, political, and familial. He’s not just making decisions for himself but putting his family at risk. Uproar can be predictable, but it is satisfying in the way that it evokes the high stakes of his choices. It’s impossible to dismiss Josh’s journey as overwrought teen angst, as it’s really a battle for each character’s soul.
When the film begins, even the neighborhood looks overcast as if a curse has come over the land. The only bright spot is when the sun rises over the ocean and a cliff, which could be easily miscategorized to take in the casual majesty at the outskirts of this neighborhood. As the film unfolds and Josh becomes more aware of what kind of person he wants to become, the scenes brighten and the tone gets warmer. Near the end of the denouement, one of the characters will reveal the significance of that initial bright spot, a natural seed of hope which gradually infiltrates all of Dunedin.
“Darling, they’re your people, too.”
Uproar has a huge team of writers, which includes Middleditch, Hamish Bennett (also co-director), Sonia Whiteman, and others who contribute to the concept and screenplay, effectively disproving the adage that too many cooks will always spoil the broth. The writers avoid populating the film with two-dimensional villains. For instance, Shirley could have easily turned into one by raising her sons into practical compromisers estranged from their Maori heritage. But the team gives her enough of a backstory that her actions are founded in reasonable explanations, not excuses.
Also Driver, who knows how to play a villain when necessary in such films as Chevalier (2022), is deft in conveying her deep, unconditional love for her children. Especially because her children’s lives are on the line. While depression is never mentioned, the dialogue and the cast convey that even suicide is on the table. Shirley may be a wisecracker, but around the principal, Driver plays her as meek and submissive, which reveals who Josh emulates in his own life.
The two-dimensional villains include the principal and one of the rugby players, who’s implied to be responsible for criminal acts and is shown onscreen as a bully. Slane uses his position of authority and discipline to inhibit any dissent and protect criminal action in service of the establishment, which explains Shirley’s fawning. His only morality is rugby and maintaining the school’s reputation as a champion. The only hope for justice lies with police officer Drybergh (Craig Hall), who is a kind but forgettable presence.
“It’s hard when you can’t do anything that makes you you.”
Despite having so many emotional beats, Uproar isn’t nearly as heavy-handed as it easily could have been. Darby provides much-needed comedic relief, and there’s an amusing thread of strict librarian Mrs. MacMenigall (Ascia Maybury) enforcing the library rules even when no one is in it, an excellent payoff just prior to the denouement. If there is one scene that felt a bit like revisionist history, it’s the reveal of how many students and community members actually support the protestors.
Even those totally unfamiliar with apartheid, rugby, New Zealand’s colonialist history, or indigenous Polynesian practices will be able to keep up with Uproar. Middleditch and Bennett use a lot of archival news footage to bring the broadest audiences up to speed without any of it feeling like an “after school special.” Auntie Tui delivers a loving wake up call and gentle rebuke to Deborah for her misguided leadership, which also functions as an indigenous history lesson. There are a couple of Haka performances, one in response to police moving and grunting in unison as they prepare to overtake and beat a group of protestors. The Haka is such an emotionally resonant and commanding Maori ceremonial dance that it carries more gravitas than any other form of dialogue or physical action.
The bottom line.
As Josh experiments with his future vocation, he becomes a focal point for all forms of art, indigenous and European. He is also a bridge between the two communities: the colonizers’ descendants and the Maori. His versatility as a burgeoning multihyphenate gives him a platform as a rugby player to reach more people, and the sensitivity of being an artist gives him the power to use it wisely. He has no agenda to be all these things, but in finding his voice, he lifts a fraction of the curse from the stolen land.
Uproar opened in New Zealand on October 5, 2023. Watch the trailer here.
Images courtesy of Kismet. Read more articles by Sarah G. Vincent here.
REVIEW RATING
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Uproar - 8/10
8/10
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.







