Head South

A private schoolboy becomes enamoured with all things post-punk in this spirited coming-of-age comedy with a sting in its tail. Following on from his thriller Lone Wolf (2021), which premiered at IFFR, Jonathan Ogilvie's fourth feature captures a vivid snapshot of growing up in Christchurch, New Zealand, in 1979. Teenage Angus is wide-eyed and self-conscious: of his class privilege, his long hair and, especially, his ignorance about music. Desperate to fit in and find his place in the world, Angus’ well-intentioned bullshitting begins to alienate his true friends, snowballing until he’s cornered into performing with a band that doesn’t exist – yet. 

Head South is Ogilvie’s semi-autobiographical ode to a post-punk subculture. Its sun-dappled visual style gives way to razor-sharp insights, doleful details and ghostly premonitions. For Angus and others, chasing unearned grit serves as distraction from what’s happening at home. Still, the film finds great fun in faking it to make it, with the most authentic inauthenticity rewarded: perhaps completely winging it might be the most genuine kind of DIY attitude after all. But in this small town, try too hard to find your edge and you might get more than you bargained for.

– Callum McLean