We Were Dangerous

by Olivia Jones

It may be set in a shrinking past, but Josephine Stewart-Tewhiu’s feature film debut, We Were Dangerous (2024), feels appropriately timed. 

Deemed unfit for 1954’s polite society, Nelly (Erana James), along with a motley group of her peers, is shipped off to Te Motu’s School for Incorrigible and Delinquent Girls. “Shipped” is used in the literal sense as the group finds themselves dumped on a remote island, previously home to lepers and prisoners of war.

Set against the rugged coastline of New Zealand’s Ōtamahua Island, it’s difficult not to get swept up in the sheer beauty of the landscape. Cinematographer María Inés Manchego drives home the reality of the girls’ isolation with sweeping wide shots of fescue-clad knolls punctuated by the tiny blue dots of their uniforms. The manmade structures on the island are decidedly less inspiring, featuring decrepit cabins, barren vegetable patches and one lonely peer.

Roofs are leaky, physical labour is abundant, and the school’s Matron (Rima Te Wiata) rules with an iron fist, yet there remains an initial lightness to the situation. This can be attributed to the girls themselves. Quick-witted and armed with insuperable dry humour, it’s clear that their “delinquency” is merely a staunch spirit. Through her fierce portrait of youth, Stewart-Tewhiu bestows the girls with an air of invincibility that is abruptly shattered by the open palm of The Matron. The first slap to a disobedient cheek is a sobering precedent for the systemic abuse and sterilisation the girls face at the hands of the school’s colonial forces.

We Were Dangerous doesn’t shy away from its darker themes; a point that is vital given New Zealand’s very real history of abuse in state care homes. This is balanced by the significant attention given to representing the girls simply as themselves. They exchange stories from home, comfort one another, and dance candidly to imaginary chords from a wooden broom guitar. In this amalgamation of light and dark, Stewart-Tewhiu establishes a unique tone that is both heart-rending and joyous.

 Underpinning the film is a sparse narration from The Matron, her psyche revealed as her unflattering descriptions of the girls directly oppose what we see on screen. We are afforded a brief glimpse into her past when a deviation in her storytelling reveals her upbringing in the church. It becomes apparent that despite her cruelty, The Matron genuinely believes she’s doing right by the girls. It is a shame that little else from her past is revealed, as Rima Te Wiatafrom’s layered performance brings a depth to the character that is never fully explored.

There are moments when it seems The Matron may relent: see the wickedness of her ways and show some form of mercy. But each time, she pushes on. In the end, it is the girls who must save themselves, one rebellious act at a time. Backed by composer Cam Ballantyne’s dynamic soundtrack the film hits emotional beat after emotional beat, swelling to a rapturous final scene.

We Were Dangerous is a blazing tale brimming with camaraderie, girlhood, and dogged resilience. It seems erroneous to call this a feel-good film, but with its fervent band of delinquent girls, it may be just that.