“Billy T: Te Movie” (2011)

If the point of this wonderfully entertaining documentary is to convince its audience of the abilities and importance of one of the country’s seminal comedic talents then it succeeds magnificently.  I lived through the glory years of Billy T. James and frankly I always underestimated his brilliance. James’ last, post heart transplant television series was a terrible way to go out, one of those bland attempts at an indigenous sitcom that was fatally dull whenever it wasn’t just plain embarrassing.  At the time it seemed to taint the James legacy.

“Billy T: Te Movie” shares a producer with that particular series so criticism of it doesn’t get much of an airing.  This matters not.  The strength of the Ian Mune directed and co-scripted film is that it puts James’ failures and failings into perspective.  What emerges is a warm, affectionate tribute to a complex individual who taught us to laugh at ourselves in ways that were formerly taboo.

Mune and co-writer Phil Gifford successfully transcend the standard, ‘talking head’ format.  The interviews they do use are direct, honest and never outstay their welcome.  Peter Rowley, James’ most frequent collaborator, is particularly moving.  The perspectives of the eldery couple who facilitated James’ adoption also give insight into the racial dynamics of 1950s New Zealand.

Recreations of aspects of James’ early life are used sparingly and effectively.  I especially liked a sequence that looks like it’s been shot at the Regent Theatre in Te Awamutu.  Mune is admirably subtle, showing the racism of James’ youth in an indirect manner.  It is a classic example of how it is better to be shown than told.

The centre piece of the film is of course James himself, both in full flight as an entertainer and quiet, reflective and humble as an interview subject.  The tension between the artist and the man is ever fascinating.  Mune’s and Gifford’s contention that James had two, conflicting personalities - a contradiction that went well beyond the difference between the public and the private - is compellingly put.

Questions about James’ private life go unanswered because his immediate family declined to be involved in the project.  If this inherently limits the documentary the flaw is a minor one.  20 years after his death Billy T. James’ best work seems more timeless than ever and twice as brave as that of any current satirist.