Reviewed by GREG KING
Documentary
Director: Slavko Martinov.
Last year we saw Chicken People, a US documentary set against the background of competitive chicken raising, and we met three people obsessed with raising their chickens and competing in best of show competitions. This quirky and off beat New Zealand documentary explores some similar territory in warm and witty fashion.
Pecking Order centres around the Christchurch Poultry, Bantam and Pigeon Club, a club which has a long and proud history. But in the lead up to the 2015 National Championships and the club’s sesquicentennial celebrations, the club is rocked by political unrest and tension, scandal, infighting and the clash of personalities. Politics rears its ugly head as an internecine battle ensues for the position of club president, and this overshadows the club’s preparations for the competitions ahead.
Interim president, the crotchety old Doug Bain who took over following the death of the club’s beloved long-term leader, is reluctant to yield the chair to his younger and more dynamic rival Mark Lilley. Many feathers are ruffled by this unrest and accusations and rumours abound. However, most club members continue with the task of preparing their chickens for a series of competitions in the lead up to the National Championships, not allowing themselves to become distracted by the politics.
This is the kind of subject matter that could provide plenty of rich material for a Christopher Guest-like mockumentary, but thankfully New Zealand based director Slavko Martinov (Propaganda, etc) plays it straight, and he doesn’t denigrate his eccentric characters or take cheap pot shots at them for easy laughs.
The film itself had more humble origins. Martinov stumbled across a farmer’s market stall that was selling organic chicken feed, which subsequently led him to discover this arcane world of chicken breeding competitions. Martinov spent a year following the various members of the club through their exacting preparations, and we get to see the care that goes into their treatment of these champion chooks by their zealous owners. And as luck would have it, trouble erupted at the club during the filming process, so Martinov latched onto this intriguing subplot.
This is observational filmmaking, and Martinov adopts a fly-on-the-wall approach to this strange subculture. We meet a number of these endearingly eccentric chicken fanciers, ranging from the veterans like Doug Bain through to the younger Rhys Lilley, a preteen who has won numerous awards himself. Then there is Sarah Bunton who talks about dressing her pet chicken up in clothing when she was younger. And we meet Ian Selby, the author of The New Zealand Poultry Standard, the Bible of the competitive chicken championship world. We get to understand their foibles and obsessions.
Martinov breaks the film into sections, each one cleverly introduced with a title card bearing a heading such as “Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched,” which underscore the drama and tension with some witty poultry-based puns. The drama is also accompanied by a jaunty music score from Tom McLeod. And despite its parochial setting, this surprisingly entertaining documentary has broad appeal.
★★☆
