There are many familiar elements in The Dark Horse, a New Zealand drama heralded by some native critics as one of the country’s great films. Several thoroughly worn-out genres—the prestige biopic, the gritty “faux-documentary” drama, the feel-good mentor/student story—are represented here as well. But they’re counterbalanced by the highly detailed and vivid setting, an engaging story unfamiliar to most viewers outside of New Zealand and an array of strong performances. Cliff Curtis portrays protagonist Genesis Potini, a real-life Maori chess master whose crippling bipolar disorder derailed his promising career. The film focuses on his life post-institutionalization and chronicles his path to redemption—a difficult journey expressed in the melancholy and complex emotions that encompass the otherwise uplifting story.
When the film begins, a wandering Genesis is lured off the rainy streets by some vintage chessboards arranged in a store window. He fiddles with the pieces as confused shoppers observe, and despite his bedraggled appearance and aimless, incoherent mumbling, they aren’t uncomfortable or threatened, and neither are we. Such is the grace is Curtis’s performance; he makes Genesis, who died in 2011, a sympathetic figure without denying his alarming presence. Suddenly, someone from the mental hospital is there to whisk him away amid a ring of protests (“He isn’t hurting anything,” someone says), and he’s roughly tossed into a van by some burly men. Feelings of wonder and sadness, fascination and confusion underline the sequence, suggesting that a potentially happy ending will be bittersweet at best.
The only person who can check Genesis out of the institution is his brother Ariki (Wayne Hapi), a quiet and tough-looking guy who’s not exactly pleased to hear from his estranged sibling. Reluctantly, he brings Genesis back to his home and there we see that Ariki is a high-ranking member of a Maori biker gang. As Genesis attempts to settle in a trio of hard-boozing gangsters loudly commiserate in the kitchen as heavy metal music blasts from the stereo. The general squalor of Ariki’s house suggests it’s sort of a home base for gang operations. In addition to adhering to a strict regimen of medication, Genesis was advised by his doctor to completely avoid stress—an unlikely possibility given his new surroundings. Luckily he connects with his teenage nephew Mana (James Rolleston), who’s being primped to join the gang on his upcoming birthday.
Another point of solace for Genesis are the Eastern Knights, a group of at-risk Maori kids who formed a chess club to help stay away from gangs and crime. It’s here that the film most resembles something like The Mighty Ducks, or even Richard Linklater’s School of Rock—films that feature a desperate adult leading a group of ragtag kids to unlikely success in an organized competition thus resulting in personal redemption for the adult. But rather than redemption, Genesis is seeking connection. “The board is like our land, and we must protect our land,” he tells the group, referring to numerous ancient Maori myths. The way he relates Maori legend and the game of chess to his young protégés suggests both respect for his culture and detachment from his brother’s hardened lifestyle, itself a way to stay connected with ethnic roots. You can see the ongoing effects of systemic poverty and social displacement within the country’s Maori population on the faces of Ariki and his cohorts, in the somber and steady way they carry themselves. The Dark Horse is never expressly political, but its sociopolitical interests interact with the story in powerful ways.
Such subtly tends to save the film from various genre clichés. The Dark Horse is often sentimental, but it’s also genuine and sincere, so some of the more predictable and admittedly rote scenes—the protagonist’s temporary mental relapse, the Eastern Knights’ inevitable triumph at a prestigious competition in Auckland—still gel with the overall narrative, which is ultimately much more concerned with Genesis and his relation to Mana. Like his uncle, Mana has a unique talent for chess, but his ties to the gang along with his father’s unyielding demands stand in the way. In his eyes, Ariki is keeping Mana tied to his culture, but the same goes for Genesis, meaning overcoming those obstacles is a matter of reconciling centuries of fractured cultural expectations. There are no easy answers, and to its richly deserved credit, The Dark Horse doesn’t offer any. The final image unexpectedly mirrors The Graduate: two wayward people facing an uncertain future with only each other to rely on. But unlike in the Mike Nichols film, the message here is one of hope.