Meet Alien Weaponry at their home in Waipū, Northland, as they prepare to embark on the trip of a lifetime. / RNZ
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Yesterday, a new documentary film following Aotearoa’s premier heavy metal band Alien Weaponry roared into cinemas. Earlier in the week, director Kent Belcher told me, “I’ve never seen it as a metal documentary”.
The movie is an incredible accomplishment. Belcher spent six years making the film, an unheard-of amount of time that involved him embedding himself with the group. He was in rehearsal rooms, filming local gigs, documenting their first trip overseas to perform at European metal festivals and was there as they embarked on their first international headlining tour. That whole time he had access all areas and filmed band break-ups, breakdowns and broken bones. In case you couldn’t tell, Alien Weaponry: Kua Tupu Te Ara is very metal.
“I always saw it as a coming-of-age story about these boys growing up in the world of metal,” he says.
The New Zealand hardcore band Alien Weaponry consists of Lewis Raharuhi de Jong, Turanga Morgan-Edmonds and Henry Te Reiwhati de Jong.
This is because the band’s three members, brothers Henry and Lewis de Jong and schoolmate Ethan Trembath, were all teenagers when Belcher began work on the doco. The trio were making ripples locally thanks to their ferocious yet melodic metal songs, their technical ability and their unique fusion of heavy metal and te reo Māori. RNZ asked Belcher to film them for “a little project”, but he quickly saw the potential within their story for something much bigger.
“What we saw was the beginning of their journey because at the time, when I first started shooting with the boys pre-the-film, they were only 16 and 18, but already on a massive trajectory and taking off in Europe.”
After completing the project Belcher and his producer spoke to the boys’ parents about their vision. A few meetings later, he was welcomed into the whānau.
Director Kent Belcher spent six years following the band as part of the making of the documentary Alien Weaponry: Kua Tupu Te Ara.
“I became part of the furniture,” he laughs. “I was with them 24/7. I was away for eight weeks on the first tour hanging out with them every day. The second tour. They got so used to having me around with the camera. Everything you see is really honest.”
At the time none of the parties involved knew he’d be with them for six years. That wasn’t originally the plan and no one in their right mind would agree to have a camera following them for such a long period.
“Two and a half of those years was Covid,” he says. “So, that plays a part in the film, but it helped stretch out that time with the boys and see their growth and the change that happened.”
Alien Weaponry members Henry Te Reiwhati de Jong and Lewis Raharuhi de Jong produce ferocious yet melodic metal songs.
It was during this time that the film became a passion project and funding dried up. Not that he let that stop him.
“It was easy for me to just go and do it because it didn’t cost me any money to go and film them up at home or do New Zealand shows with them. There were like three years of me running around with them in New Zealand, unfunded. We didn’t know if we were going to get funding or not. We just had to keep plodding on.”
Alien Weaponry's Lewis Raharuhi de Jong and Henry Te Reiwhati de Jong.
“Funding’s like the tide. It goes in and goes out,” Belcher says, explaining that right-leaning governments tend to strip funding while left-leaning governments tend to restore it. “It’s a cycle that keeps happening. It’d be great if the arts weren’t politicised. Because it’s super important that New Zealand stories are told.”
As an example, he cites his own film.
“When we started this project, the relationship between Government and Māori was okay. And within the last year, that’s all changed. In five years, how’s our film going to age?” he muses, before asking a bigger question. “And where are we going to be as a nation?”
Alien Weaponry’s Māori heritage is important to them. Not only does it power their music, it’s also extremely present in their lives. Something their international fans have latched on to. Just about every overseas interaction either with fans or fellow musos, people are asking about Māori culture and wanting to learn more. At gigs in places like, say, Sweden, huge crowds are singing along.
“That’s a conscious thing they are doing,” Belcher says. “They’re taking their culture to the world to show everyday New Zealanders that the Māori culture is cool.”
It’s one thing to read about the band playing a US tour or European festival. It’s another to see it. To see hordes of diehard fans and the passion people have for the band. To see the rise of a metal behemoth and see boys become men. To see them walk the path of their kaupapa and encourage others to join them, not with words but through actions.
