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Couch surfer in his 30s. Oscar winner in his 40s. Why the whole world wants Taika

**Notes: This is very long post!**

Good Weekend

In his 30s, he was sleeping on couches. By his 40s, he’d directed a Kiwi classic, taken a Marvel movie to billion-dollar success, and won an Oscar. Meet Taika Waititi, king of the oddball – and one of New Zealand’s most original creative exports.

Taika Waititi: “Be a nice person and live a good life. And just don’t be an arsehole.”

The good news? Taika Waititi is still alive. I wasn’t sure. The screen we were speaking through jolted savagely a few minutes ago, with a cacophonous bang and a confused yelp, then radio silence. Now the Kiwi filmmaker is back, grinning like a loon: “I just broke the f---ing table, bro!”

Come again? “I just smashed this f---ing table and glass flew everywhere. It’s one of those old annoying colonial tables. It goes like this – see that?” Waititi says, holding up a folding furniture leg. “I hit the mechanism and it wasn’t locked. Anyway …”

I’m glad he’s fine. The stuff he’s been saying from his London hotel room could incur biblical wrath. We’re talking about his latest project, Next Goal Wins, a movie about the American Samoa soccer team’s quest to score a solitary goal, 10 years after suffering the worst loss in the game’s international history – a 31-0 ignominy to Australia – but our chat strays into spirituality, then faith, then religion.

“I don’t personally believe in a big guy sitting on a cloud judging everyone, but that’s just me,” Waititi says, deadpan. “Because I’m a grown-up.”

This is the way his interview answers often unfold. Waititi addresses your topic – dogma turns good people bad, he says, yet belief itself is worth lauding – but bookends every response with a conspiratorial nudge, wink, joke or poke. “Regardless of whether it’s some guy living on a cloud, or some other deity that you’ve made up – and they’re all made up – the message across the board is the same, and it’s important: Be a nice person, and live a good life. And just don’t be an arsehole!”

Not being an arsehole seems to have served Waititi, 48, well. Once a national treasure and indie darling (through the quirky tenderness of his breakout New Zealand films Boy in 2010 and Hunt for the Wilderpeople in 2016), Waititi then became a star of both the global box office (through his 2017 entry into the Marvel Universe, Thor: Ragnarok, which grossed more than $1.3 billion worldwide) and then the Academy Awards (winning the 2020 best adapted screenplay Oscar for his subversive Holocaust dramedy JoJo Rabbit, in which he played an imaginary Hitler).

Waititi playing Adolf Hitler in the 2019 movie JoJo Rabbit. (Alamy)

A handsome devil with undeniable roguish charm, Waititi also slid seamlessly into style-icon status (attending this year’s Met Gala shirtless, in a floor-length gunmetal-grey Atelier Prabal Gurung wrap coat, with pendulous pearl necklaces), as well as becoming his own brand (releasing an eponymous line of canned coffee drinks) and bona fide Hollywood A-lister (he was introduced to his second wife, British singer Rita Ora, by actor Robert Pattinson at a barbecue).

Putting that platform to use, Waititi is an Indigenous pioneer and mentor, too, co-creating the critically acclaimed TV series Reservation Dogs, while co-founding the Piki Films production company, committed to promoting the next generation of storytellers – a mission that might sound all weighty and worthy, yet Waititi’s new wave of First Nations work is never earnest, always mixing hurt with heart and howling humour.

Waititi with wife Rita Ora at the 2023 Met Gala in May. (Getty Images)

Makes sense. Waititi is a byproduct of “the weirdest coupling ever” – his late Maori father from the Te Whanau-a-Apanui tribe was an artist, farmer and “Satan’s Slaves” bikie gang founder, while his Wellington schoolteacher mum descended from Russian Jews, although he’s not devout about her faith. (“No, I don’t practise,” he confirms. “I’m just good at everything, straight away.”)

He’s remained loyally tethered to his origin story, too – and to a cadre of creative Kiwi mates, including actors Jemaine Clement and Rhys Darby – never forgetting that not long before the actor/writer/producer/director was an industry maven, he was a penniless painter/photographer/ musician/comedian.

With no set title and no fixed address, he’s seemingly happy to be everything, everywhere (to everyone) all at once. “‘The universe’ is bandied around a lot these days, but I do believe in the kind of connective tissue of the universe, and the energy that – scientifically – we are made up of a bunch of atoms that are bouncing around off each other, and some of the atoms are just squished together a bit tighter than others,” he says, smiling. “We’re all made of the same stardust, and that’s pretty special.”

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We’ve caught Waititi in a somewhat relaxed moment, right before the screen actors’ and media artists’ strike ends. He’s sensitive to the struggle but doesn’t deny enjoying the break. “I spent a lot of time thinking about writing, and not writing, and having a nice holiday,” he tells Good Weekend. “Honestly, it was a good chance just to recombobulate.”

Waititi, at right, with Hunt for the Wilderpeople actors, from left, Sam Neill, Rhys Darby and Julian Dennison. (Getty Images)

It’s mid-October, and he’s just headed to Paris to watch his beloved All Blacks in the Rugby World Cup. He’s deeply obsessed with the game, and sport in general. “Humans spend all of our time knowing what’s going to happen with our day. There’s no surprises any more. We’ve become quite stagnant. And I think that’s why people love sport, because of the air of unpredictability,” he says. “It’s the last great arena entertainment.”

The main filmic touchstone for Next Goal Wins (which premieres in Australian cinemas on New Year’s Day) would be Cool Runnings (1993), the unlikely true story of a Jamaican bobsled team, but Waititi also draws from genre classics such as Any Given Sunday and Rocky, sampling trusted tropes like the musical training montage. (His best one is set to Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears.)

Filming in Hawaii was an uplifting experience for the self-described Polynesian Jew. “It wasn’t about death, or people being cruel to each other. Thematically, it was this simple idea, of getting a small win, and winning the game wasn’t even their goal – their goal was to get a goal,” he says. “It was a really sweet backbone.”

Waititi understands this because, growing up, he was as much an athlete as a nerd, fooling around with softball and soccer before discovering rugby league, then union. “There’s something about doing exercise when you don’t know you’re doing exercise,” he enthuses. “It’s all about the fun of throwing a ball around and trying to achieve something together.” (Whenever Waititi is in Auckland he joins his mates in a long-running weekend game of touch rugby. “And then throughout the week I work out every day. Obviously. I mean, look at me.”)

Auckland is where his kids live, too, so he spends as much time there as possible. Waititi met his first wife, producer Chelsea Winstanley, on the set of Boy in 2010, and they had two daughters, Matewa Kiritapu, 8, and his firstborn, Te Kainga O’Te Hinekahu, 11. (The latter is a derivative of his grandmother’s name, but he jokes with American friends that it means “Resurrection of Tupac” or “Mazda RX7″) Waititi and Winstanley split in about 2018, and he married the pop star Ora in 2022.

He offers a novel method for balancing work with parenthood … “Look, you just abandon them, and know that the experience will make them harder individuals later on in life. And it’s their problem,” he says. “I’m going to give them all of the things that they need, and I’m going to leave behind a decent bank account for their therapy, and they will be just like me, and the cycle will continue.”

Jokes aside – I think he’s joking – school holidays are always his, and he brings the girls onto the set of every movie he makes. “They know enough not to get in the way or touch anything that looks like it could kill you, and they know to be respectful and quiet when they need to. But they’re just very comfortable around filmmakers, which I’m really happy about, because eventually I hope they will get into the industry. One more year,” he laughs, “then they can leave school and come work for Dad.”

Theirs is certainly a different childhood than his. Growing up, he was a product of two worlds. His given names, for instance, were based on his appearance at birth: “Taika David” if he looked Maori (after his Maori grandfather) and “David Taika” if he looked Pakeha (after his white grandfather). His parents split when he was five, so he bounced between his dad’s place in Waihau Bay, where he went by the surname Waititi, and his mum, eight hours drive away in Wellington, where he went by Cohen (the last name on his birth certificate and passport).

Waititi was precocious, even charismatic. His mother Robin once told Radio New Zealand that people always wanted to know him, even as an infant: “I’d be on a bus with him, and he was that kind of baby who smiled at people, and next thing you know they’re saying, ‘Can I hold your baby?’ He’s always been a charmer to the public eye.”

He describes himself as a cool, sporty, good-looking nerd, raised on whatever pop culture screened on the two TV channels New Zealand offered in the early 1980s, from M*A*S*H and Taxi to Eddie Murphy and Michael Jackson. He was well-read, too. When punished by his mum, he would likely be forced to analyse a set of William Blake poems.

He puts on a whimpering voice to describe their finances – “We didn’t have much monneeey” – explaining how his mum spent her days in the classroom but also worked in pubs, where he would sit sipping a raspberry lemonade, doodling drawings and writing stories. She took in ironing and cleaned houses; he would help out, learning valuable lessons he imparts to his kids. “And to random people who come to my house,” he says. “I’ll say, ‘Here’s a novel idea, wash this dish,’ but people don’t know how to do anything these days.”

“Every single character I’ve ever written has been based on someone I’ve known or met or a story I’ve stolen from someone.” - Taika Waititi

He loved entertaining others, clearly, but also himself, recording little improvised radio plays on a tape deck – his own offbeat versions of ET and Indiana Jones and Star Wars. “Great free stuff where you don’t have any idea what the story is as you’re doing it,” he says. “You’re just sort of making it up and enjoying the freedom of playing god in this world where you can make people and characters do whatever you want.”

His other sphere of influence lay in Raukokore, the tiny town where his father lived. Although Boy is not autobiographical, it’s deeply personal insofar as it’s filmed in the house where he grew up, and where he lived a life similar to that portrayed in the story, surrounded by his recurring archetypes: warm grandmothers and worldly kids; staunch, stoic mums; and silly, stunted men. “Every single character I’ve ever written has been based on someone I’ve known or met,” he says, “or a story I’ve stolen from someone.”

He grew to love drawing and painting, obsessed early on with reproducing the Sistine Chapel. During a 2011 TED Talk on creativity, Waititi describes his odd subject matter, from swastikas and fawns to a picture of an old lady going for a walk … upon a sword … with Robocop. “My father was an outsider artist, even though he wouldn’t know what that meant,” Waititi told the audience in Doha. “I love the naive. I love people who can see things through an innocent viewpoint. It’s inspiring.”

After winning Best Adapted Screenplay Academy Award for JoJo Rabbit in 2020. (Getty Images)

It was an interesting time in New Zealand, too – a coming-of-age decade in which the Maori were rediscovering their culture. His area was poor, “but only financially,” he says. “It’s very rich in terms of the people and the culture.” He learned kapa haka – the songs, dances and chants performed by competing tribes at cultural events, or to honour people at funerals and graduations – weddings, parties, anything. “Man, any excuse,” he explains. “A big part of doing them is to uplift your spirits.”

Photography was a passion, so I ask what he shot. “Just my penis. I sent them to people, but we didn’t have phones, so I would print them out, post them. One of the first dick pics,” he says. Actually, his lens was trained on regular people. He watches us still – in airports, restaurants. “Other times late at night, from a tree. Whatever it takes to get the story. You know that.”

He went to the Wellington state school Onslow College and did plays like Androcles and the Lion, A Midsummer Night’s Dream and The Crucible. His crew of arty students eventually ended up on stage at Bats Theatre in the city, where they would perform haphazard comedy shows for years.

“Taika was always rebellious and wild in his comedy, which I loved,” says his high school mate Jackie van Beek, who became a longtime collaborator, including working with Waititi on a Tourism New Zealand campaign this year. “I remember he went through a phase of turning up in bars around town wearing wigs, and you’d try and sit down and have a drink with him but he’d be doing some weird character that would invariably turn up in some show down the track.”

He met more like-minded peers at Victoria University, including Jemaine Clement (who’d later become co-creator of Flight of the Conchords). During a 2019 chat with actor Elijah Wood, Waititi describes he and Clement clocking one another from opposite sides of the library one day: a pair of Maoris experiencing hate at first sight, based on a mutual suspicion of cultural appropriation. (Clement was wearing a traditional tapa cloth Samoan shirt, and Waititi was like: “This motherf---er’s not Samoan.” Meanwhile, Waititi was wearing a Rastafarian beanie, and Clement was like, “This motherf---er’s not Jamaican.”)

With Jemaine Clement in 2014. (Getty Images)

But they eventually bonded over Blackadder and Fawlty Towers, and especially Kenny Everett, and did comedy shows together everywhere from Edinburgh to Melbourne. Waititi was almost itinerant, spending months at a time busking, or living in a commune in Berlin. He acted in a few small films, and then – while playing a stripper on a bad TV show – realised he wanted to try life behind the camera. “I became tired of being told what to do and ordered around,” he told Wellington’s Dominion Post in 2004. “I remember sitting around in the green room in my G-string thinking, ‘Why am I doing this? Just helping someone else to realise their dream.’ ”

He did two strong short films, then directed his first feature – Eagle vs Shark (2007) – when he was 32. He brought his mates along (Clement, starring with Waititi’s then-girlfriend Loren Horsley), setting something of a pattern in his career: hiring friends instead of constantly navigating new working relationships. “If you look at things I’m doing,” he tells me, “there’s always a few common denominators.”

Sam Neill says Waititi is the exemplar of a new New Zealand humour. “The basis of it is this: we’re just a little bit crap at things.”

This gang of collaborators shares a common Kiwi vibe, too, which his longtime friend, actor Rhys Darby, once coined “the comedy of the mundane”. Their new TV show, Our Flag Means Death, for example, leans heavily into the mundanity of pirate life – what happens on those long days at sea when the crew aren’t unsheathing swords from scabbards or burying treasure.

Waititi plays pirate captain Blackbeard, centre, in Our Flag Means Death, with Rhys Darby, left, and Rory Kinnear. (Google Images)

Sam Neill, who first met Waititi when starring in Hunt for the Wilderpeople, says Waititi is the exemplar of a new New Zealand humour. “And I think the basis of it is this,” says Neill. “We’re just a little bit crap at things, and that in itself is funny.” After all, Neill asks, what is What We Do in The Shadows (2014) if not a film (then later a TV show) about a bunch of vampires who are pretty crap at being vampires, living in a pretty crappy house, not quite getting busted by crappy local cops? “New Zealand often gets named as the least corrupt country in the world, and I think it’s just that we would be pretty crap at being corrupt,” Neill says. “We don’t have the capacity for it.”

Waititi’s whimsy also spurns the dominant on-screen oeuvre of his homeland – the so-called “cinema of unease” exemplified by the brutality of Once Were Warriors (1994) and the emotional peril of The Piano (1993). Waititi still explores pathos and pain, but through laughter and weirdness. “Taika feels to me like an antidote to that dark aspect, and a gift somehow,” Neill says. “And I’m grateful for that.”

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Something happened to Taika Waititi when he was about 11 – something he doesn’t go into with Good Weekend, but which he considered a betrayal by the adults in his life. He mentioned it only recently – not the moment itself, but the lesson he learnt: “That you cannot and must not rely on grown-ups to help you – you’re basically in the world alone, and you’re gonna die alone, and you’ve just gotta make it all for yourself,” he told Irish podcast host James Brown. “I basically never forgave people in positions of responsibility.”

What does that mean in his work? First, his finest films tend to reflect the clarity of mind possessed by children, and the unseen worlds they create – fantasies conjured up as a way to understand or overcome. (His mum once summed up the main message of Boy: “The unconditional love you get from your children, and how many of us waste that, and don’t know what we’ve got.”)

Second, he’s suited to movie-making – “Russian roulette with art” – because he’s drawn to disruptive force and chaos. And that in turn produces creative defiance: allowing him to reinvigorate the Marvel Universe by making superheroes fallible, or tell a Holocaust story by making fun of Hitler. “Whenever I have to deal with someone who’s a boss, or in charge, I challenge them,” he told Brown, “and I really do take whatever they say with a pinch of salt.”

It’s no surprise then that Waititi was comfortable leaping from independent films to the vast complexity of Hollywood blockbusters. He loves the challenge of coordinating a thousand interlocking parts, requiring an army of experts in vocations as diverse as construction, sound, art, performance and logistics. “I delegate a lot,” he says, “and share the load with a lot of people.”

“This is a cool concept, being able to afford whatever I want, as opposed to sleeping on couches until I was 35.” - Taika Waititi

But the buck stops with him. Time magazine named Waititi one of its Most Influential 100 People of 2022. “You can tell that a film was made by Taika Waititi the same way you can tell a piece was painted by Picasso,” wrote Sacha Baron Cohen. Compassionate but comic. Satirical but watchable. Rockstar but auteur. “Actually, sorry, but this guy’s really starting to piss me off,” Cohen concluded. “Can someone else write this piece?”

Directing Chris Hemsworth in 2017 in Thor: Ragnarok, which grossed more than $1.3 billion at the box office. (Alamy)

I’m curious to know how he stays grounded amid such adulation. Coming into the game late, he says, helped immensely. After all, Waititi was 40 by the time he left New Zealand to do Thor: Ragnarok. “If you let things go to your head, then it means you’ve struggled to find out who you are,” he says. “But I’ve always felt very comfortable with who I am.” Hollywood access and acclaim – and the pay cheques – don’t erase memories of poverty, either. “It’s more like, ‘Oh, this is a cool concept, being able to afford whatever I want, as opposed to sleeping on couches until I was 35.’ ” Small towns and strong tribes keep him in check, too. “You know you can’t piss around and be a fool, because you’re going to embarrass your family,” he says. “Hasn’t stopped me, though.”

Sam Neill says there was never any doubt Waititi would be able to steer a major movie with energy and imagination. “It’s no accident that the whole world wants Taika,” he says. “But his seductiveness comes with its own dangers. You can spread yourself a bit thin. The temptation will be to do more, more, more. That’ll be interesting to watch.”

Indeed, I find myself vicariously stressed out over the list of potential projects in Waititi’s future. A Roald Dahl animated series for Netflix. An Apple TV show based on the 1981 film Time Bandits. A sequel to What We Do In The Shadows. A reboot of Flash Gordon. A gonzo horror comedy, The Auteur, starring Jude Law. Adapting a cult graphic novel, The Incal, as a feature. A streaming series based on the novel Interior Chinatown. A film based on a Kazuo Ishiguro bestseller. Plus bringing to life the wildly popular Akira comic books. Oh, and for good measure, a new instalment of Star Wars, which he’s already warned the world will be … different.

“It’s going to change things,” he told Good Morning America. “It’s going to change what you guys know and expect.”

Did I say I was stressed for Waititi? I meant physically sick.

“Well…” he qualifies, “some of those things I’m just producing, so I come up with an idea or someone comes to me with an idea, and I shape how ‘it’s this kind of show’ and ‘here’s how we can get it made.’ It’s easier for me to have a part in those things and feel like I’ve had a meaningful role in the creative process, but also not having to do what I’ve always done, which is trying to control everything.”

In the 2014 mockumentary horror film What We Do in the Shadows, which he co-directed with Jemaine Clement. (Alamy)

What about moving away from the niche New Zealand settings he represented so well in his early work? How does he stay connected to his roots? “I think you just need to know where you’re from,” he says, “and just don’t forget that.”

They certainly haven’t forgotten him.

Jasmin McSweeney sits in her office at the New Zealand Film Commission in Wellington, surrounded by promotional posters Waititi signed for her two decades ago, when she was tasked with promoting his nascent talent. Now the organisation’s marketing chief, she talks to me after visiting the heart of thriving “Wellywood”, overseeing the traditional karakia prayer on the set of a new movie starring Geoffrey Rush.

Waititi isn’t the first great Kiwi filmmaker – dual Oscar-winner Jane Campion and blockbuster king Peter Jackson come to mind – yet his particular ascendance, she says, has spurred unparalleled enthusiasm. “Taika gave everyone here confidence. He always says, ‘Don’t sit around waiting for people to say, you can do this.’ Just do it, because he just did it. That’s the Taika effect.”

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Taika David Waititi is known for wearing everything from technicolour dreamcoats to pineapple print rompers, and today he’s wearing a roomy teal and white Isabel Marant jumper. The mohair garment has the same wispy frizz as his hair, which curls like a wave of grey steel wool, and connects with a shorn salty beard.

A stylish silver fox, it wouldn’t surprise anyone if he suddenly announced he was launching a fashion label. He’s definitely a commercial animal, to the point of directing television commercials for Coke and Amazon, along with a fabulous 2023 spot for Belvedere vodka starring Daniel Craig. He also joined forces with a beverage company in Finland (where “taika” means “magic”) to release his coffee drinks. Announcing the partnership on social media, he flagged that he would be doing more of this kind of stuff, too (“Soz not soz”).

Waititi has long been sick of reverent portrayals of Indigenous people talking to spirits.

There’s substance behind the swank. Fashion is a creative outlet but he’s also bought sewing machines in the past with the intention of designing and making clothes, and comes from a family of tailors. “I learnt how to sew a button on when I was very young,” he says. “I learnt how to fix holes or patches in your clothes, and darn things.”

And while he gallivants around the globe watching Wimbledon or modelling for Hermès at New York Fashion Week, all that glamour belies a depth of purpose, particularly when it comes to Indigenous representation.

There’s a moment in his new movie where a Samoan player realises that their Dutch coach, played by Michael Fassbender, is emotionally struggling, and he offers a lament for white people: “They need us.” I can’t help but think Waititi meant something more by that line – maybe that First Nations people have wisdom to offer if others will just listen?

“Weeelllll, a little bit …” he says – but from his intonation, and what he says next, I’m dead wrong. Waititi has long been sick of reverent portrayals of Indigenous people talking to kehua (spirits), or riding a ghost waka (phantom canoe), or playing a flute on a mountain. “Always the boring characters,” he says. “They’ve got no real contemporary relationship with the world, because they’re always living in the past in their spiritual ways.”

A scene from Next Goal Wins, filmed earlier this year. (Alamy)

He’s part of a vanguard consciously poking fun at those stereotypes. Another is the Navajo writer and director Billy Luther, who met Waititi at Sundance Film Festival back in 2003, along with Reservation Dogs co-creator Sterlin Harjo. “We were this group of outsiders trying to make films, when nobody was really biting,” says Luther. “It was a different time. The really cool thing about it now is we’re all working. We persevered. We didn’t give up. We slept on each other’s couches and hung out. It’s like family.”

Waititi has power now, and is known for using Indigenous interns wherever possible (“because there weren’t those opportunities when I was growing up”), making important introductions, offering feedback on scripts, and lending his name to projects through executive producer credits, too, which he did for Luther’s new feature film, Frybread Face and Me (2023).

He called Luther back from the set of Thor: Love and Thunder (2022) to offer advice on working with child actors – “Don’t box them into the characters you’ve created,” he said, “let them naturally figure it out on their own” – but it’s definitely harder to get Waititi on the phone these days. “He’s a little bitch,” Luther says, laughing. “Nah, there’s nothing like him. He’s a genius. You just knew he was going to be something. I just knew it. He’s my brother.“

I’ve been asked to explicitly avoid political questions in this interview, probably because Waititi tends to back so many causes, from child poverty and teenage suicide to a campaign protesting offshore gas and oil exploration near his tribal lands. But it’s hard to ignore his recent Instagram post, sharing a viral video about the Voice to Parliament referendum starring Indigenous Aussie rapper Adam Briggs. After all, we speak only two days after the proposal is defeated. “Yeah, sad to say but, Australia, you really shat the bed on that one,” Waititi says, pausing. “But go see my movie!”

About that movie – the early reviews aren’t great. IndieWire called it a misfire, too wrapped in its quirks to develop its arcs, with Waititi’s directorial voice drowning out his characters, while The Guardian called it “a shoddily made and strikingly unfunny attempt to tell an interesting story in an uninteresting way”. I want to know how he moves past that kind of criticism. “For a start, I never read reviews,” he says, concerned only with the opinion of people who paid for admission, never professional appraisals. “It’s not important to me. I know I’m good at what I do.”

Criticism that Indigenous concepts weren’t sufficiently explained in Next Goal Wins gets his back up a little, though. The film’s protagonist, Jaiyah Saelua, the first transgender football player in a FIFA World Cup qualifying match, is fa’afafine – an American Samoan identifier for someone with fluid genders – but there wasn’t much exposition of this concept in the film. “That’s not my job,” Waititi says. “It’s not a movie where I have to explain every facet of Samoan culture to an audience. Our job is to retain our culture, and present a story that’s inherently Polynesian, and if you don’t like it, you can go and watch any number of those other movies out there, 99 per cent of which are terrible.”

*notes: (there is video clip in the article)

Waititi sounds momentarily cranky, but he’s mostly unflappable and hilarious. He’s the kind of guy who prefers “Correctumundo bro!” to “Yes”. When our video connection is too laggy, he plays up to it by periodically pretending to be frozen, sitting perfectly still, mouth open, his big shifting eyeballs the only giveaway.

He’s at his best on set. Saelua sat next to him in Honolulu while filming the joyous soccer sequences. “He’s so chill. He just let the actors do their thing, giving them creative freedom, barely interjecting unless it was something important. His style matches the vibe of the Pacific people. We’re a very funny people. We like to laugh. He just fit perfectly.”

People do seem to love working alongside him, citing his ability to make productions fresh and unpredictable and funny. Chris Hemsworth once said that Waititi’s favourite gag is to “forget” that his microphone is switched on, so he can go on a pantomime rant for all to hear – usually about his disastrous Australian lead actor – only to “remember” that he’s wired and the whole crew is listening.

“I wouldn’t know about that, because I don’t listen to what other people say about anything – I’ve told you this,” Waititi says. “I just try to have fun when there’s time to have fun. And when you do that, and you bring people together, they’re more willing to go the extra mile for you, and they’re more willing to believe in the thing that you’re trying to do.”

Yes, he plays music between takes, and dances out of his director’s chair, but it’s really all about relaxing amid the immense pressure and intense privilege of making movies. “Do you know how hard it is just to get anything financed or green-lit, then getting a crew, getting producers to put all the pieces together, and then making it to set?” Waititi asks. “It’s a real gift, even to be working, and I feel like I have to remind people of that: enjoy this moment.”

Source: The Age

By: Konrad Marshall (December 1, 2023)

#rhys darby #taika waititi #next goal wins #our flag means death #hunt for the wilderpeople #interview

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ficretus · 7 months ago

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RWBY contains surprising amount of Norse allusions in the story (and funny part is that almost none of them center around Nora, who's primary allusion is Norse god). Everything from Oz being Odin, Beacon being Valhalla, Branwen siblings being Huginn and Muninn, Pyrrha being Baldr, Tree in Ever After being Yggdrasil, and so on.

However, I want to focus on Salem as Loki allusion and her Grimm hybrids.

While relations wise Salem doesn't make much sense as Loki (since Odin's wife was Frigg), Loki does share ancient past with Odin that latter is embarrassed to admit. This of course parallels back to Salem being Ozma's "little" secret he keeps from his allies.

Outside of that, both Loki and Salem seek to overturn order of Gods and cause a Doomsday. Loki also nicely parallels Salem's title of Queen of Grimm by being father (or mother in Sleipnir's case) of monsters that would end up causing Ragnarok. Those children being Fenrir, Jormungandr and Hel.

Hel and Fenrir were already featured in the show, being Cinder and Hound respectively. Cinder has visual similarities with Hel: Mask and Grimm arm (as well as her asymmetrical clothing style) parallel to Hel's half flesh, half blue skinned appearance. Both are also self proclaimed rulers that were cast down at very young age (Cinder symbolically, Hel literally). Hound, just like Fenrir is massive wolf that devoured Odin/Oscar. Their deaths are also relatively similar: Hound was crushed under statue while Fenrir had its jaw crushed by Vidar's heavy boot before being stabbed.

Unlike Salem's other creations, Hound and Cinder are hybrids, which gives them elevated position. If we go by that logic, then third harbinger of Ragnarok, Jormungandr, should also be a hybrid and major threat narratively. Jormungandr appears as either massive serpent or worm depending on the version of story. This, combined with current Vacuo setting makes me believe that we might see Jormungandr in the show as massive Grimm sand worm. While Jormungandr was aquatic being, there is no appropriate setting for that in the show and it would come way too close to Leviathan from Volume 6. So why not bust out a sand worm, after all, desert is sea of sand.

At its core it will likely be another silver eyed warrior, although I don't think this will be Summer. Since potential Grimm Summer would be an allusion to Red Riding Hood's devoured grandma, If they ever make a Norse allusion for Grimm Summer it's more likely she is gonna be a Garmr, ultimate hound of Norse mythology and guardian of Hel's gate (this could be a parallel to implication that Summer was the one guarding conquered Beacon). It's the only opponent at Ragnarok that doesn't seem to be referenced in any way. Garmr's opponent at Ragnarok was Tyr (who parallels with Yang) so it makes sense narratively as well.

#rwby #rwby volume 10 #rwby theory #rwby vacuo

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howlingday · 1 year ago

Text

Clash of the Gods

**********************************************

Oscar: (Sits on his bed, Yawns) Let's get to bed. Hopefully things will be a lot better tomorrow.

There was hope in the young man's voice. The events of the day had taken their toll on the four of them. Learning the status of the Relic of Knowledge was disheartening, and yet despite Adrian finding only one piece, was the most hopeful to find the rest. This lead to a heated disagreement between him and his uncle, leaving the party exhausted.

Adrian: (Sits on his bed) Good night, Uncle. (Lays down) Good night, Oscar. Oz.

Oscar: Good night. (Shifts) Good night.

Jaune: Good night. (Lays down, Shuts eyes)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Adrian: WHAT WAS THAT?!

Jaune: Grab your weapon!

The world shook around them as wind and rain battered the walls of their shared home. Thunder crackled as the ground was rent asunder by lightning. Jaune threw open the door, sword in hand, and found a massive figure standing a distance from the entrance.

Jaune: WHO ARE YOU?!

Lightning flashed behind his towering frame, casting an intimidating shadow over the doorway. The figure pushed aside his coat, revealing two silver and black handguns. He spoke softly, but his voice carried over the winds.

Ironwood: Can I come in? (Reaches behind, Pulls out a flask) I brought wine.

Jaune: I'm not exactly fit for visitors!

Ironwood: Are you sure? You have a table and cups, don't you?

At the lack of response, the winds died down. The mountain of a man moved closer, but Jaune didn't step aside. It wasn't until the man shut his coat that Jaune let him pass. As the storm died down, Jaune nodded to Adrian, who hurried to set the table. As the men stared at one another, they set their weapons on the table, Jaune with his sword and the stranger with his guns.

The man's eyes were dark and tired, long sullen from ages past of sleepless night. His beard was long with strands of white, like fresh coal crumbled into ashes. Atop his brow rested a metal plate, a wound earned from a battle long forgotten by all but two survivors, both of whom located in this building.

Ironwood: (Looks around, Sits down) Charming place.

Adrian set the cups on the table, then stepped away as the guest set the flask down. "Pop!" The cap was removed and heavy red liquid filled each cup to near the rim. With a grunt, the cap was reseated and the giant reached across the table for the cup in front of Jaune.

Jaune: (Grabs cup, Huffs)

Ironwood: ...You could've told me before I poured.

Jaune: Why are you here?

The stranger lifted his cup and wafted a hand over the rim. A smile graced his lips for a moment before returning to it's stoic origins.

Ironwood: I'm being neighborly.

Before Jaune could reply, a stray wind blew from a torn open wall to the shut door. Adrian shivered, but straightened when Jaune glanced to him. There was a sudden movement, but it was nonhostile. The titan rotated his hand for emphasis as he spoke.

Ironwood: You seem like a reasonable person. Very calm. (Leans closer) Are you reasonable and calm?

Jaune: If I need to be.

Ironwood: (Glances to Due Process, Huffs) Good. You should be.

There was a knock, and Jaune and Adrian became still. The stranger simply sipped from his cup, totally unperturbed by the sudden noise. With a nod from his uncle, Adrian opened the door. The wind picked up as flurries whirled outside the doorstep, and a man formed as the ice and snow came together. Without asking, he entered.

Cloaked in heavy furs, the small gentleman glanced around with fast-moving eyes. Atop his lips sat a bushel of white hair, which matched his slicked-back hair. Under his cloak was a fancy robe, sown not from ilk, but from dust.

Jacques: Do you know who I am?

The man swiftly made his way to the empty chair and placed it beside the largest man in the room. He picked it up, moved it, placed it, and sat in it. All while he spoke with an air of superiority. Like he were speaking to a child.

Jacques: Not long ago, before this cold settled in, mistakes were made. Unfortunate and regrettable, to be sure, but I think we all know who's who around here, right?

Jacques: Now, what you did to my children... was understandable. Self-defense. They both attacked you, and you did what you had to. After all, despite our immense power, we are all still mortal. (Looks to Ironwood) And let's be honest; those two were worthless. They wouldn't have been any use to us. (Looks to Jaune) But Winter was different. She was the Maiden. She had value as both our superpower and my best huntress. Yes, she was driven insane by her power, but she was useful, and now she's gone because you killed her. Do you understand?

The smaller man reached over and took the cup from the much, much larger man and drank it to the last. He set the now empty container to the table. "Clack!"

Jacques: You. Owe. Me. (Looks to Ironwood) And you're no fun to be around.

Jaune: What do you want?

The man took Jaune's cup and did the same as before. Jaune didn't react. If anything, this worked in his favor as the most sober of the three men. Another cup empty by the hands of this stranger. "Clack!"

Jacques: Peace. (Stands up) Does peace hold any interest to you, oh great and mighty Valian god of war? Hm? That we ceasefire and return to our normal lives? You stay here, lay down, don't start anything with me, and I promise not to start anything with you.

Suddenly, cold blue eyes fell on Adrian, who stiffened under his gaze. A bony finger raised to single him out. On instinct, Adrian stepped closer to a support beam. Jaune placed his eyes on him as well.

Jacques: And you need to stop looking for the relics.

Jaune's eyes widened, fury suddenly ablaze in his glare. But this was less of his old form of fury, which was ignited and fueled by his rage, and more tempered by concern for the boy's well-being.

Ironwood: Yes. We know what you've been up to. Now stop it.

Jacques: The war between Salem and Ozma is dead. Salem is dead. (Steps closer) Understand?

Jaune stood up. The man turned to him and stepped away from Adrian, hands in the air. Adrian looked between the two. The huge man still seated at the table placed the rest of the bottle of wine to his lips.

Jacques: And that's it. We're even. In fact, I'll sweeten the deal and let your little refugee walk away, completely pardoned! Yeah, I know you're in there, you lying, little bastard!

He looked to the closet, where a dim flash of light flared. Adrian stepped closer to keep it shut, but was too slow as the door came swinging open. Adrian rushed in to hold back the older boy from making a grave mistake by striking the dangerous gentleman with his cane.

Oscar: Why should we believe anything you have to say?! When was the last time you ever kept your promise?!

Jacques: Ozpin. A pleasure, as always.

Ironwood: He looks younger. (Hiccups)

Oscar: If he tells you snow is white, he's lying!

Jacques: What? You do riddles now? And I thought the great and powerful Oz would be wise enough to see past his own ego.

His gaze returned to Jaune, who continued to stand at the table. The foreign man stayed his hand from his sword, but darted his gaze between the larger man and this deceptively more powerful one. Ozpin was a lot of things, and a lot of times, he hid the truth. But he never lied, especially about Jacques Schnee.

Jacques: Okay, here's my final offer. Stop your search for the relics, and I'll smooth things out between you and my ex. You'll never see Willow again, and I will ensure your safety when you walk through her garden. Keep your... nephew... safe. (Smiles) Isn't that what all we could ever ask for with family? So what do you say? Do we have a deal?

Jaune thought on the conditions. Willow, mad in her grief for her children, grew bolder in her attacks. Adrian's curiosity drew him closer and deeper into her territory, which put his life in danger. Jaune couldn't protect him forever, and Adrian was not yet ready to be on his own.

Which meant he still had to protect him from men like Jacques Schnee.

Jaune: No.

Jacques didn't react much to the answer. No raising of his brow or open gape of his mouth in surprise. He simply walked by his wide shouldered ally and whispered in his ear. In response, the massive man sighed as he stood.

Ironwood: Finally.

Before Jaune could blink, thunder rocked his core as he was launched through his wall, his home growing smaller and smaller in seconds. As his velocity slowed and blurs regained shape, his gargantuan foe was upon him once more, pistols in both hands. He holstered them and took hold of Jaune's neck.

Ironwood: I've been waiting for this! You Valians always were slow on how things worked in Atlas. Here, we have something called "a cold debt". (Squeezes, Jaune hacks) It means you took something from me, and now I take something from you. Don't worry, though; you'll pick it up!

Jaune smashed his fist against his colossal opponent's face, but earned little response beyond a chuckle. With a kick to his chest, Jaune became free from the iron grip. Instead of retreating, he smashed his forehead into the bearded giant's nose. Reeling from his pain, he tossed Jaune aside.

Ironwood: (Rotates shoulder) That was for Winter. Now show me this God-Slayer I've heard so much about!

Jaune reached out, but only felt empty air in return. Something was stopping his blade from returning to his hand. The tall man stalked forward, cracking his knuckles. One set of knuckles sounded more metallic in his koints popping.

Ironwood: Can't fight without your sword? Coward!

He lunged for Jaune, who managed to duck away. An arm swiped for him, but was deftly blocked by Jaune's shield, and a counter was delivered into the giant's side. This did little more than annoy the titan.

Jaune: I didn't want to fight Winter!

Ironwood: I don't care!

An iron fist struck Jaune in the face, sending him spiraling into a wall. A follow-up punch missed and struck the wall instead. As debris and dust fell away from the crater made, Jaune used this to his advantage and weaved to behind his opponent, striking his massive backside. Unfortunately, this also didn't hurt him.

Ironwood: You insult me holding back like this!

A bloodied fist whirled round, narrowly missing Jaune, who held up his shield. Steel-hard fingers dug into his defense and tossed it away, earning a massive boot into Jaune's torso. Jaune rolled backwards to his feet, bracing for another attack.

Ironwood: How were YOU ever a god of war?! (Charges at Jaune, Misses and grabs pillar) You're fucking hopeless! (Whirls round pillar) You spit on my children's memories! I can't believe they lost to you!

Jaune ducked low and drove his shield into the gargantuan, deep into his gut. As he reeled from his pain, Jaune wailed blow after blow into him, staggering him. Reeling back, he swung his shield towards his stony face. The titan grabbed the sides, but was pushed back by Jaune's strength. He was now pinned under the god of war.

Jaune: You know who I was?

Ironwood: The Rusted Knight? Yeah, I do!

Jaune: Then you know what I can do!

Ironwood: Then show me!

Jaune held his sword hand out, hoping to reclaim his blade once more. Captializing on relieving his arm, the towering figured shoved Jaune away. The blade whirled into Jaune's hand, and bit deep into his foe as he swung. With a shove, Jaune cut deeper into his opponent, but this still didn't slow him down. Not even as red spurted from his mortal wound.

Ironwood: Now this is a fight!

As Jaune rushed in, a boot was raised high before stomping into the solid ground. The earth shook as a shockwave rippled the air around source. Jaune was launched far back into a wall. The same where his foe first bled. Jaune looked ahead and saw the man was fully-healed, with no scars to show his wounds.

Jaune: (Thinking) Damn it! How many times does it take?! When will the gods finally leave me be?!.

Ironwood: What's this? Now we're talking!

Jaune, consumed by his rage, rushed for the tall bastard and lept onto him. Fists bounced and bounced hard into the stone face, bruising iron skin and breaking bleeding bone as he pummeled into the laughing god's face. His arms were tightly held before he was thrown off. Jaune lept again, but missed and sent his own shockwave that barely pushed the mountainous son of a bitch. Jaune panted as cold air bit his skin.

Ironwood: Is that all? I thought you were finally showing me something! Come on! Show me the monster inside! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE BETTER THAN THIS!

Jaune: I AM!

Jaune charged forward and swung his sword from on high, only to be blocked by twin pistols catching from their slides. Jaune was pushed to the backfoot once more and was shot twice in the chest, sending him flying far and away once more. He smashed through something metal. As he regained himself, he caught the god in his follow-up, but was helpless as he was tossed through the metal and his face driven into the cold pavement below.

Ironwood: That was for Weiss! (Walks away) Sorry about your little statue, Pyrrha, you soft-hearted crybaby.

Jaune gripped a piece of bronze from Pyrrha's statue- her arm, maybe- and drove it deep into the god's backside. As Jaune readied his blade, the massive foe grabbed the shard from his front and tore it out. After a roar and a pant, he turned to Jaune and laughed.

Ironwood: If you're not fighting dirty, you're not fighting, right?

Jaune rushed to his foe with renewed vigor, those his body still ached. The battle was wearing hard on his body. Blade scraped against pistol as the giant swung his firearms like clubs. What didn't connect to his sword clashed against his shield, ringing Jaune's ears with a thunderous force.

Jaune: Your children attacked US first!

Ironwood: Good! Just like I trained them!

Jaune sheathed his sword and took another of Pyrrha's statue to strike his hardy foe. Said foe reeled from the pain, but only seemed to be reinvigorated by the attack. Lining up his shot, a fireball launched with hellish fury, singing a deafening song. Jaune clenched his teeth under such force. As he lowered his shield, a massive hand reached for Jaune, grabbing and slamming him into the pavement.

Ironwood: Was it luck?! Did my children lose and die to blind, fucking luck?!

Jaune felt heavy blow after blow cascade upon him like rain. Everything was growing softer, silenced by the deafening ring in his ears. Hands gripped around Jaune's throat as he struggled against his mighty foe.

Ironwood: You think you can burn a kingdom, come here, be a daddy, and get a clean, fucking slate?! That's not how the world works! You're a killer, a destroyer, just like me!

Jaune was finally able to breathe until the final, heavy blow was made against him. Everything had grown dark. Quiet. He knew this feeling before, for he's felt it so many times. Death.

And he never got to say good-bye to Adrian. Never the chance to tell him he's-

Ironwood: Oho no! I say when we're done.

Fire burned over Jaune's chest, his body alive with pain as his fingers curled in spasmatic rhythm. His heart thundered in pain as cold air filled Jaune's throat and lungs. As his body calmed, Jaune moved to his feet. The giant gestured with an open palm lazily.

Ironwood: Get up! I'm not leaving until I see the real you. Now!

With shaky legs, Jaune approached the god. His body still ached, but he could also feel it healing. His divine status returning, Jaune felt a rage boil within him, but he pressed it down once more. Rage would not win this fight.

The two came to blows once more, but Jaune was noticably slower than before, and so was the mountain before him. Judging by the rolling of his eyes, this was not for the same reason Jaune held. Flaring his nostrils, he barked at Jaune ashe swung.

Ironwood: Stop holding back!

Jaune's speed increased, as did his enemy's. Blade cut as bullets pierced, with only body and shield to catch each other. Jaune caught another boot to his torso, sending him sliding back into a wall.

Ironwood: There's no way my children lost to you! (Catches sword in metal palm, Snarls) Are you afraid to get your hands dirty?

Jaune tore himself free and distanced himself. He missed a swing for his head, but kept his shield up to defend himself. He noticed storm clouds continued to build around the forgotten city, and the building snow and hail grew and grew in size and intensity. Yet the titanic marksman leveled his pistol with certainty.

Ironwood: This is the god who destroyed an entire kingdom because a woman hurt his feelings?

Jaune sheathed his sword and held his shield up. A bullet careened from his shield, but he continued in his blind charge. Once he saw those big boots, Jaune reached high and seized his prize, his foe's throat. Squeezing it tightly, he struck him hard in the face. As he reeled to strike again, the giant ducked low and took hold of Jaune in a bear hug.

Kicking from his legs, the two soared into the sky. Thunder rumbled and roared around them as lightning flashed and blinded them. Even as Jaune freed himself and threw punch after punch into the god's face, he continued to laugh in a rumble that seemed to echo the thunder. Again, the fist was caught and Jaune was thrown to the ground. Jaune landed with a roll, and readied his sword.

Ironwood: THIS IS FOR WHITLEY!

As Jaune threw his sword forward, it clashed against the pistols, an electric charge sparking from their weapons grinding against each other.

Jaune: You always put him last! Even when he died!

Ironwood: What the fuck did you just say?!

Jaune: Whitley came after us because he was afraid of you! We didn't kill him! You beat him and he died from the wounds you gave him!

Ironwood: Oh, and like you're such a model father?!

They came apart and struck again. Lightning crashed and blasted the two far from each other. In their place stood a massive glass tower, brimming with electric energy. They circled each other around it.

Ironwood: This seems familiar.

Jaune: What?

Ironwood: Doesn't matter.

Jaune felt the earth crackle and rolled away. A thunderbolt scorched the earth where Jaune stood. As lightning crashes increased, Jaune charged to his foe once more and struck him with his blade once again.

Ironwood: I don't fucking care about what a good father you are! I want to see Vale's god of war!

Jaune: You started this! (Grabbed again, Kicks knee) I WILL END IT!

Jaune felt the god's leg give, but it did little to help him. What jubilance his foe held now died and was replaced by this towering rage before him. Rage, hatred, disgust. All of it targeted at this god of war.

Ironwood: This is the foreign god who murdered Winter?

Another heavy boot came crashing down, but Jaune caught his shoulder with his blade. Once more, divine blood spilled. However, it didn't seem to heal as fast as it did before. As Jaune was shoved away, it still bled. The god continued to bleed, which meant he could still be beaten. However, this distraction costed him.

Ironwood: (Grabs Jaune, Slams him down) This is the man who bested Cinder, the woman who murdered Ozpin?!

Jaune rolled away, only to be caught again by his enemy. His sword fell away as he was thrown into another wall, driven deeper by an iron fist. Jaune launched his own punches and two slugged one another until Jaune was tossed away again. Grabbing his sword, he swung the blade into a structure behind his opponent. Metal creaked as it fell.

Ironwood: Clever! (Raises pistol, Fires, Shatters iron beam) But clever won't beat me!

The two continued their battle, but even Jaune noticed his slowing down again. He doubted he'd be offered another chance by the godly titan before him. His foe also slowed, but much less so than him.

Ironwood: Where's your love of the fight?! Show me the god of war! Let me see him!

Jaune held up his shield as the massive pistols clubbed and sparked into it. Metal creaked and bent as lightning burned and melted against it's shape. Suddenly, it shattered, and twin barrels were placed to his eyes. Between them, Jaune saw the god's eyes ablaze in rage.

Ironwood: I see why my children fell to you. Even if it's this... weaker version of you. (Leans in) But I am not my children!

Ironwood: But your son? Don't worry! Jacques Schnee and I will take good care of him. He has plans for him.

Jaune reached out and gripped the bastard's arms tightly. Reeling back, he slammed his face through the pistols and cracked the asshole's fucking nose. As blood dribbled into his beard, Jaune roared as his fist crashed and cracked into the son of a bitch's smug face.

Jaune felt his blood boil. Spill over. He felt a rage he hadn't felt in ages. Something in his very being that told him to kill the man. Beat this god. Maim this dog until he begged for a quick and merciful death.

Ironwood: There he is.

The man chuckled and popped his jaw back in place. Reaching inside, he swiftly yanked out and tossed a tooth free.

Ironwood: There's the god of war.

The winds died down, and the snow and hailed ceased as the thunder quieted around them. The god reseated his pistols and dusted himself off. He took a deep breath and calmly spoke.

Ironwood: Consider your "cold debt" repaid. (Turns away) I'll be seeing you.

As Jaune attempted to give chase, lightning flashed and the mountain of a man was gone without a trace. Left confused in the cold, he remembered. Adrian was stuck in the house. Alone!

Stones shifted nearby and Jaune found his friends Ruby and Yang waving to him.

Yang: I told you he'd make it! Ol' Vomit God is just fine!

Jaune: (Falls over)

Ruby: Jaune! (Runs over, Helps Jaune up) Remember me? It's Ruby! And Yang is here, too!

Yang: You goo-

Jaune: Home! Now! Jacques Schnee is with Adrian!

Ruby: I'll get a gateway ready!

Yang: (Carries Jaune) Come on, big guy! Don't worry, nobody is around to see you get picked up by a girl.

Jaune: Who... Who was that?

Yang: That was Ironwood, Atlesian god of storms, strength, and being a general pain in everyone's ass.

Ruby: I still can't believe Crocea Mors stood up to Due Process! (Squeals) Uh, not that I enjoy watching my babies fight.

Jaune: Gn...

Yang: Uh, Ruby? The gateway?

Ruby: Oh! Right!

#rwby #god of war #god of war: ragnarok #oscar pine #ozpin #jaune arc #adrian cotta arc #james ironwood #jacques schnee #ruby rose #yang xiao long

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insanityclause · 4 months ago

Note

How long does a filming of one season take? Three months? It still seems they started relatively recently but have been filming since the middle of June, with Tom taking one week vacation in Italy. I still hope Tom could attend TIFF but if they would be filming half across the world, that may not be possible. I am also very curious when are they planning to film S3 bc Tom´s schedule seems a bit full.

Last time it was about 18 weeks/3-1/2 months, same as both Loki seasons.

I would expect filming for this season to run through end of September/beginning of October.

He will be able to clear his schedule for any TIFF promo for TLOC. They always build those things into a filming schedule. Tom did Emmy campaigning while filming Ragnarok in Australia, and Brie flew back on weekends from Vietnam for her Oscar campaign. And Olivia Colman is filming the War of the Roses remake right now, so they'll work around her schedule with that (which may explain the going back to London rumour, tbh).

Considering other plans in the pipeline, I would expect S3 to be filmed in late 2025/early 2026.

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lokiondisneyplus · 1 year ago

Text

Loki has worn many hats since his initial appearance in the Marvel Cinematic Universe in 2011.

In the first “Avengers” movie, the God of Mischief, played by Tom Hiddleston, descended on New York City with an alien army. In “Thor: Ragnarok,” he teamed up with his brother to protect the people of Asgard, morphing from villain to antihero. And now, in the second season of the “Loki” television series, which premieres Thursday on Disney+, he embarks on a new and unlikely mission — saving the Time Variance Authority.

Season 2 of “Loki” takes place in the aftermath of the mayhem from the first installment, in which Loki and Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino), a free-spirited Loki variant, arrived at the end of history. There, they discovered He Who Remains (Jonathan Majors), the time-bending scientist who masterminded the T.V.A. to prevent another war between the many variants of himself.

When Sylvie stabs He Who Remains, she plunges the T.V.A. and the Sacred Timeline into chaos, unleashing the multiverse. As Season 2 commences, new worlds branch from the timeline, T.V.A. forces splinter into factions and Loki grapples with a problem called time-slipping as he is caught in a tug of war between past and present.

To preserve the T.V.A., Loki reunites with familiar characters — including the wry Mobius (Owen Wilson) and Hunter B-15 (Wunmi Mosaku) — as well as new ones, such as O.B., a T.V.A. fix-it man played by the Oscar-winning actor Ke Huy Quan, and Victor Timely, a 19th-century inventor and Kang variant played by Majors. (Majors is facing charges related to a misdemeanor assault case��after being arrested in March in New York. Filming for Season 2 of “Loki” had already finished before the arrest.)

With the original director Kate Herron leaving the project, Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead, who helped direct “Moon Knight,” became the new lead directors on a majority of the episodes. Eric Martin, who helped write some of the first season’s episodes, has become head writer.

In a video call from his writing studio in Los Angeles, Martin spoke about crafting the plot and characters of Season 2 and working with Quan in his new role.

ImageKe Huy Quan as O.B., Wunmi Mosaku as Hunter B-15, Tom Hiddleston as Loki and Owen Wilson as Mobius.Credit...Marvel/Disney+

What were some of the themes you had in mind as you wrote the script for this show?

I think the most important thing to me is just character and emotionality. I wanted to have everything driven by the wants and needs of our characters and really just focus on their emotional journeys first and foremost. That is the basis for all the drama: Who are our people? Where are their heads at? What do they need? Those are the dramatic questions that drive everything.

As for themes, we still have the ideas of free will and destiny that continue on from Season 1. But for new things, I think order versus chaos is a continual theme. And then a power vacuum. What happens in a power vacuum? I think like the overarching concept of Season 2 is, “You break it, you buy it.” That’s what happened at the end of Season 1. They broke the system. And so now they own this nebulous thing, and it needs to reform and become something new.

How do you see Loki evolving as a character through the first season and into the second?

Season 1, and like Episode 1 especially, scrambled his brains. He sees his own death by the end of that. He realizes that even the infinity stones are pointless at this new level of things. And so he had to completely reset and figure out who he was. And so I think Season 1 we see him make this hero turn although he is still an antihero or villain. But I think Loki had kind of forgotten who he was, and Season 2 is like rebalancing that. So we still have this hero Loki, but we’re getting back to the meat and potatoes of who this guy is. We’re getting back to the God of Mischief. So we see him using all those talents of the God of Mischief but as a hero now.

All these characters are so intertwined across multiple different movies and TV shows in the MCU. So, I’m curious, how much creative freedom do you have in writing for this particular show?

We’re fortunate that we really have our own little sandbox here where we’re able to be really creative and branch off into other directions without stepping on other projects. And some of that’s by design, while some of that is just what we found along the way. In terms of actual marching orders, there have been certain points where it’s like, “Oh, you know what, this character is being used by another project,” and you just have to pivot. But in terms of our drama and our story and where we’re taking our characters, it really is just following them and their needs and proving them on the page. And if we can prove that then nobody steps in and says you need to do something different.

The interactions between Loki and Mobius and between Loki and Sylvie were captivating in Season 1. What should we expect from those interactions in Season 2?

Let me start with Loki and Mobius. They’re a lot of fun to write because they’re an odd couple. They are very different in how they do everything. They are on the same side. They’re on the same page, but they’re reading different books. They do not have the same path to getting the same thing done, and that’s what’s fun. You have that friction to play with, but they are on the same side. So scene to scene, there’s so much fun to have with them.

And with Loki and Sylvie, they’re a little bit of friends, couple, I’m not sure how you even want to look at them. These are two people that have had this intense experience together, and they split apart and went separate ways. Inevitably they’re going to come together, but how have they each changed? Where have they each gone? And are they going to be able to mesh again?

ImageTom Hiddleston as Loki, Ke Huy Quan as O.B. and Owen Wilson as Mobius.Credit...Marvel/Disney+

So O.B. is definitely an important character in Season 2. What was it like to create this character?

O.B. was born out of a desire to see the rest of the T.V.A. I feel like Season 1 we existed on a couple different levels, but this is a massive place. Like, what else is there? Who else is there? And as I was getting into the first episode of Season 2, I really started to think about who’s the person who is down there in the engine room of the ship. He’s the one who is looking over everything. He’s the fix-it guy. I just started to imagine a guy who was so busy running the machinery that he just doesn’t see anybody. But he loves his job. It very much is like the seven dwarfs and Snow White. They’re just whistling while they work because they love it.

And so Loki and Mobius show up there, and they’re like the first visitors O.B. has had in years. O.B. is just happily doing his job. It really crystallized in my head who that person was — somebody who loved his job. That conception of the character stuck and stayed. And when Ke came on, he just added a layer of sweet humanity to it that I thought brought a whole different level to what O.B. is.

How was Ke brought on for this role?

That was Kevin Feige. He saw him in “Everything Everywhere All at Once” and Kevin fell in love with O.B. on the page, and I think he just saw him and then he’s like, “This is our O.B. He’ll just step right in and be perfect for this.” The first day Ke came, he hadn’t started yet. He just wanted to visit the set and say hi. That’s who Ke is, he wants to know everybody. And we got to talking and had lunch together and it was just this nice lunch talking about his character and getting to hear him dig in and get under the skin of that character and how he was going to approach it. And all just over some cold Chinese noodles.

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