Welcome to Taranaki, Where Teen Angst Meets Amateur Blackmail
Predicament is one of those oddball films that sneaks up on you like a drunk uncle at a wedding — strange, endearing, slightly menacing, and far funnier than it has any right to be. Based on Ronald Hugh Morrieson’s posthumously published 1975 novel, this 2010 adaptation is part comedy, part horror, and part existential crisis set in small-town New Zealand.
Directed by Jason Stutter (Diagnosis: Death, Tongan Ninja), Predicament stars Hayden Frost as Cedric, a naïve teenager with a moral compass that’s less “north” and more “spinning wildly near a magnet.” He falls under the influence of two misfit lowlifes — Jemaine Clement as Spook and Heath Franklin as Mervyn — who introduce him to a world of extortion, voyeurism, and general idiocy. What begins as a scheme to photograph and blackmail amorous couples quickly spirals into something darker and far more ridiculous.
It’s Stand by Me meets Fargo, filtered through Kiwi deadpan and 1930s malaise. And somehow, it works.
The Setting: Small Town, Big Weird
The film takes place in a fictional 1930s Taranaki town, which looks charming enough — until you realize everyone in it is deeply unhinged. The place is all weathered wooden houses, old-timey cars, and suspiciously cheerful wallpaper concealing decades of repression.
Director Jason Stutter doesn’t just film a period piece; he builds a fever dream out of it. The cinematography is lush and nostalgic, like a faded postcard that might also be cursed. There’s something inherently funny about watching genteel small-town folk gossip about murder while sipping tea, and Predicament milks that contrast for all it’s worth.
If David Lynch were born in New Zealand and raised on meat pies and sarcasm, he might have made something like this.
The Story: Adolescence, Blackmail, and Bad Decisions
Our hero Cedric (Hayden Frost) is an awkward, soft-spoken teenager living with his eccentric inventor father, Martin (played with fragile brilliance by Tim Finn). The elder Williamson spends his days tinkering with gadgets and his nights talking to his deceased wife. He’s less “mad scientist” and more “grieving handyman who’s one bolt short of a nervous breakdown.”
Enter Spook (Jemaine Clement), a charming sociopath in a trench coat who looks like he’s permanently auditioning for a noir film that doesn’t exist. Along with his dim-witted partner Mervyn (Heath Franklin), Spook ropes Cedric into a scheme involving hidden cameras and compromising photos of the town’s lovers’ lane crowd.
Naturally, things escalate. What starts as cheeky extortion quickly becomes a comedy of escalating bad decisions, culminating in murder, mayhem, and moral ambiguity. It’s the kind of plot that sounds like it should collapse under its own absurdity, yet somehow maintains perfect balance — like a tipsy tightrope walker holding a flask labeled “Blackmail Money.”
Jemaine Clement: The Kiwi Rasputin
Let’s just say it: Jemaine Clement is the film’s secret weapon. The Flight of the Conchords star has made a career out of being the funniest deadpan oddball in any room, and Predicament gives him the perfect sandbox to play in. His character, Spook, is a mix of sleazy confidence and existential dread — the kind of man who would quote Nietzsche, then rob you with a wink.
Clement’s performance walks that magical line between hilarious and unsettling. One moment he’s cracking absurd one-liners about morality, the next he’s staring into the distance like he’s considering the heat death of the universe. His presence elevates every scene; you never quite know whether he’s about to deliver a punchline or a death blow.
He’s like a cross between a con artist, a poet, and the guy your parents warned you not to sit next to on the bus.
The Supporting Cast: A Menagerie of Beautifully Broken People
Tim Finn — yes, that Tim Finn of Split Enz and Crowded House fame — gives one of the film’s most surprisingly moving performances. As Martin, Cedric’s father, he’s the emotional heart of the movie, balancing comedy with genuine pathos. His eccentricity never feels cartoonish; he’s just a man drowning in loneliness and half-finished inventions.
Heath Franklin’s Mervyn, meanwhile, is the lovable idiot of the group — a man with the intellect of a hammer and the self-awareness of a brick. Watching him and Spook bounce off each other is pure joy. Their banter feels improvised, yet perfectly timed, like a vaudeville act that accidentally stumbled into a murder plot.
Rose McIver (long before iZombie) appears as Maybelle, Cedric’s romantic interest — bright, charming, and far too good for the mess around her. She’s the only character with a functioning conscience, which makes her presence feel like moral life support.
And then there’s Edward Newborn as Detective Huggins, a small-town cop with the intuition of a potato and the fashion sense of a boiled egg. Every line he delivers sounds like it’s been translated from another language by someone half-asleep, and it’s delightful.
The Humor: Macabre Meets Awkward
The comedy in Predicament is dry enough to start a drought. It’s the kind of humor where no one tells jokes, but everything is hilarious. People die, blackmail plots go wrong, and someone inevitably trips over their own stupidity — and yet it all feels absurdly polite.
There’s a running theme of moral confusion, as Cedric tries to reconcile his Catholic guilt with the thrill of crime. He’s constantly on the verge of doing the right thing, but peer pressure — and Jemaine Clement — keep dragging him back to the dark side. It’s like Breaking Bad if Walter White was 17 and still asking permission to borrow the car.
The film also flirts with horror, though in the same way your grandma flirts with the butcher — it’s unsettling but oddly charming. The body count is low, but the atmosphere is thick with dread, guilt, and the faint smell of sheep manure.
The Tone: Beautifully Uneasy
Jason Stutter pulls off a tricky balancing act: Predicament never feels like it’s mocking its characters, even when they’re doing profoundly stupid things. Instead, it treats them with affection, as if to say, “Yes, you’re terrible people, but aren’t we all?”
The pacing is unhurried, almost meditative. Scenes unfold like dark little fables about greed, desire, and moral decay. Every shot of the town feels both quaint and haunted — a place where every window hides a secret and every smile hides a corpse.
The Legacy of Ronald Hugh Morrieson: The Poet Laureate of Weird New Zealand
Morrieson’s novels are infamous for their mix of small-town realism and grotesque absurdity. His work captures that peculiarly Kiwi brand of weirdness — where life is simple, death is messy, and everyone’s pretending it’s fine.
Predicament honors that spirit beautifully. It’s funny, eerie, and profoundly strange, much like Morrieson himself. It’s also the last of his novels to be adapted, closing a cinematic chapter of literary madness that started in the 1980s.
Final Verdict: The Best Kiwi Crime Comedy You’ve Never Seen
Predicament is a love letter to the weirdos of rural New Zealand — the dreamers, schemers, and small-time sinners who make life interesting. It’s part coming-of-age story, part dark farce, and entirely original.
It’s not flashy or fast-paced. It’s awkward, grim, and occasionally gross. But beneath its deadpan exterior beats the heart of a truly great story — one that laughs at human folly even as it mourns it.
If you like your humor black, your settings provincial, and your moral compasses broken, Predicament is the cinematic gem you didn’t know you needed.
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 Dodgy Cameras.
It’s small-town sin, Kiwi-style — where the tea is hot, the corpses are cold, and Jemaine Clement is probably plotting something. 🕵️♂️📸
