Tinā

Three years after losing her daughter in the Christchurch earthquakes, Mareta (Anapela Polataivao), a music teacher who had made a name for herself in her community, still finds herself grieving and living off meager welfare paychecks. Suddenly, she's given the chance to be a substitute teacher in a prestigious, upper-class private school. After seeing the sad, overworked state of the students, she decides to build a school choir, which creates a sense of support and community for the students, including Sophie (Antonia Robinson), a girl dealing with mental health conditions, whose talent reminds Mareta of her daughter and their love for singing.

All Together Now. Tinā admittedly covers some ground that feels familiar. The premise feels very much at home with media like Glee, Sing Sing, School of Rock, Ghostlight, and even Boychoir, which shares many similarities with this film. These films usually present the power of art and performance, serving as an inspirational tool for dealing with setbacks and grief. While not necessarily a bad place to start a story in, there are already numerous films of this nature, so there has to be something that makes a new entry stand out. For Tinā, most of that comes from the Samoan culture, which really does come vibrant and alive on screen through song, personality, and tradition. Beyond this, there are some interesting ideas here about mental health issues present in both younger and older generations, which can stem from body image, grief, and racism. But truly, the film does come alive when the choir gets to sing. The film is very good at the build-up to these moments. There are these moments of silence and pause before the performances that let the weight of the stakes settle, and when the melodies do come full blast from cinema speakers, the impact is nothing short of breathtaking. All of this is bolstered by a really talented young cast of actors and singers, including Robinson, who stands out as a rising star to watch out for and who can deliver dramatic heft so convincingly. Polataivao feels perfectly cast, easily cementing this memorable, commanding yet caring presence on screen.

Some Sour Notes. All that said, there's still unfortunately a lot in Tinā that leaves the film stuck in familiar territory. For starters, it can be pretty on the nose with its themes, especially with its discussions on the elitism of private schools. There are school board heads here that serve as the villains of the narrative, and they often come across as caricatures of evil, power-hungry bosses, down to the mischievous, snarky smirk. It feels too cartoonish to the point that it's hard to take them seriously whenever they make an appearance. There's also a lot to be desired here in some of the dramatic aspects, with some plotlines seemingly resolved too easily, and other moments seem to come out of nowhere. Without giving too much away, the film ultimately tries to make these big dramatic swings towards the tail-end of the narrative, which feel both undeserved and unnecessary. This all culminates in a finale that has too many plot threads to wrap up in a timeframe that is too short. It can still feel quite moving, especially in that final song number, but it loses some power in the messiness of the proceedings in those last 15 or so minutes. In its bid for more emotion and drama, the film chooses to be too safe and is unconvincing. The film shines when it trusts its audience to let the music and the joys that come with performance do most of the heavy lifting. Ultimately, Tinā is mostly lovely, even at times quite powerful, though it feels familiar due to some safe, cliche choices in its narrative.