Holy Days: Movie Review
Cast: Judy Davis, Miriam Margolyes, Jacki Weaver, Elijah Tamati, Craig Hall, Johnny Brugh,
Director: Nat Boultt
Sometimes, simplicity is the key.
So it is with Holy Days, the latest New Zealand film to send a cast of characters off on a road trip, with the evident chaos following in their wake.
Holy Days mixes its Nuns on the Run ethos with a kind of Father Ted madcap comedy that proves to be a sweetly engaging, if somewhat slight, film.
It’s back into the 1970s world of New Zealand, complete with stubbies and pulled-up socks, as this trio and their errant ward Brian head off on a road trip that’s unbothered with either geography, unnecessary stops or any kind of mingling with the locals.
First-time director Nat Boultt’s take on Dame Joy Cowley’s book is quite adorable and simple in many ways, though it belies a subtle darkness that lies within.
From the loss of Brian’s mother and his denial of a new mother-to-be that his father (Craig Hall) has acquired to a hint of stolen generation children and convent-raised families, the film’s quite keen to point out the rosy-tinted view of yesteryear isn’t quite as pleasant as you’d imagine. Throw in a hint of how the nuns themselves have become surplus to requirements in both their community and up and down the land, and you have a kernel of some kind of devastating commentary.
However, Boultt’s less interested in pursuing that, cribbing elements from Rachel House’s 2024 The Mountain and parts of Goodbye, Pork Pie to pull together something that’s a crowd-pleasing mid-afternoon movie, the likes of which are seldom seen in cinemas these days.
Whether it’s Miriam Margolyes’ take on Father Jack from Father Ted’s non-sequiturs in her Sister Lucia, or Jacki Weaver’s subtle sadness in her loss of place within the convent that used to be bustling or the harsher edges of Judy Davis’ Irish Mother Superior, there’s much here that feels familiar enough to ensure a broader appeal.
But young Tamati’s Brian emerges as the film’s star, charting a similar trajectory as Julian Dennison’s cheeky Ricky Baker did nearly a decade ago – even down to appearance and looks. But he’s the beating, innocent heart of this film, a childlike naivete and deep sadness pervading his lot in life.
All in all, Holy Days isn’t too full of itself to fall short of delivering a fart gag and some broader appeal, plus physical comedy when it’s needed. That’s no bad thing and for a first-time effort, this has a sweetness which is hard to ignore or fight off. Praise the lord.

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