There’s an old adage I’ve heard bandied about in the film industry from time to time – when all else fails, put a nun in the movie. Has there ever been a group of people more affectionately relegated to the status of human props more than the brides of Christ, whose distinctive manner of dressing and peaceful demeanour have made them a patsy of many films, across every conceivable genre? It has led to a sub-genre of films that centre around those who choose to enter into this vocation, and it would be foolish to suggest that a large portion of these films are anything less than wholeheartedly charming and entertaining. One recent example comes in the form of Holy Days, the directorial debut of Nat Boltt, who ventures from her native South Africa across the ocean to New Zealand, where she takes root in a small town at some point in the 1970s, introducing us to Brian, a young boy who has been dealing with the aftermath of his mother’s death, attempting to process these emotions while also trying to understand the world that surrounds him. His only comfort comes when he makes his way to a local nunnery, which is home to three older women with whom he has a very close relationship – the sensitive Sister Mary Clare, the eccentric Sister Luke and the more reserved Sister Agnes, their stern but deeply compassionate leader. When they are informed that their home is about to be sold, leaving them essentially without anywhere to go, the sisters and Brian decide to take matters into their own hands, setting off on a cross-country road trip to acquire the deeds to the property, in the hopes of fending off the ravenous real estate developers who have sinister motives for this cherished land. A very sweet but slightly over-sentimental blend of comedy and drama, Holy Days is exactly what we would expect from a film with such a premise, being delightfully irreverent where required. Still, following a traditional pattern so closely, it constantly risks being overtaken by its own refusal to take the story just as far as we would hope.

We find that Holy Days is a film that doesn’t need to spend too much time fixating on its underlying message – this is very much a film that wears its intentions on its sleeve, communicating clearly and without any hesitation exactly what it aimed to say. It is your garden-variety coming-of-age comedy, in which a rebellious young protagonist seeks out guidance from an unexpected set of mentors, who are more than willing to lend their wisdom, since they are quietly learning as much about the resilience of youth and the importance of retaining childlike wonder in the process. It’s a very simple approach, and it’s one that underlines many of the core themes that drive this film forward. However, there’s not all that much else to the film than this particular element, but we can still find value in how it chooses to focus on a few elements that are slightly less obvious. Setting the film in New Zealand allows the director to explore culture in a very distinct way – it’s far from the first film to celebrate the beauty of Māori traditions, which are the central focus here, despite the film following a trio of nuns. It should not be misunderstood – this is not a film about faith in any way, and any idea that what the director is doing here is at all about Christianity itself is mostly inaccurate. However, it still uses religious belief as the foundation for a story that is essentially about community, compassion and the importance of finding a sense of belonging. The film combines different traditions, showing how they can not only live in harmony, but actually positively influence each other when given the appropriate amount of space to exist, bringing all these characters together under a shared humanity that highlights the common ground that everyone experiences, but which centuries of division have misled us into believing to be mutually exclusive. It’s a wonderfully engaging story, albeit one that is slightly derivative – but at no point does anyone involved in Holy Days make it seem as if they were attempting to do more than was required.

The reason we’re likely to be drawn towards Holy Days, and indeed the aspect that has been most heavily showcased in promotional materials, would be the presence of the three veteran actors playing the nuns who anchor the film. How often do we get the opportunity to see legendary performers like Jacki Weaver, Miriam Margolyes and Judy Davis appear across from each other in a film, especially one where they’re given such delightfully offbeat characters to play? Each one of them is splendid in their own way, taking on characters who are very much a fit to their usual on-screen personas – Weaver is soft-spoken and gentle, Margolyes as eccentric as anyone could be, and Davis at her most stern and discerning. We can forgive the fact that they weren’t necessarily stretching themselves through these characters simply because they’re so captivating to watch – they’re all fully-committed to the assignment, taking on characters that are nothing if not entirely lovable, playing into various familiar archetypes (almost to the point where we have to wonder if part of the writing process involved checking off a list of tropes usually associated with nun stories) but being so enthralling in the process. The young Brian, played by Elijah Tamati, is also wonderful – he holds his own against these veterans, seemingly never being intimidated (likely the result of his fellow actors making the production a comfortable, joyful place for a budding young talent) and delivering stellar work, and we also cannot neglect to mention veteran Māori actor Tanea Heke, who may not be as familiar to those outside the country, but who is also wonderful in a small but pivotal role. It’s a tremendous cast that compensates for some of the slight shortcomings through quietly and methodically engaging with the deeper meaning behind these characters and everything that they ultimately represent.

Where the film begins to show some weakness comes in its structure, which doesn’t seem very consistent. It comes across as if Boltt was driven by a few different ideas, which she chooses to combine into a single story, not realising that there are naturally going to be some severe limitations, especially with such a simple premise. It is a road movie without an actual predetermined destination, a buddy comedy where the friendship doesn’t always take the focus, and a coming-of-age story where the young protagonist is shoved to the background too frequently to leave an impression. It’s a strange film in terms of how the story transpires, and never quite comes together as neatly as we would expect. The problem isn’t that it is so scattered, but rather that it doesn’t have the tonal consistency to make up for the narrative shortcomings – its a very funny film, but one that struggles to temper its humour to the most appropriate level, coming across as hopelessly heavy-handed in some parts, which include adding some scenes and plot developments that aren’t particularly necessary (such as one of the main characters dying in the final few minutes, which simply did not need to happen, and puts a damper on what should have been an undeniably positive ending), which do become quite distracting after a while. We do find that Boltt has her heart in the right place, and as a debut its not necessarily worth criticising too much – but it does feel somewhat disappointing to see a film with such promise ultimately resort to the same hackneyed techniques that we’ve come to expect from this brand of pleasant but non-essential comedy, where the focus is more on making the audience feel something in the moment rather than giving us something to remember afterwards, leaving us charmed but not particularly engaged in the way we would’ve been with some slightly tighter, more consistent filmmaking.

Holy Days is a film that delivers exactly what it promises at the outset, so all expectations need to be somewhat tempered, since this is far from innovative or revolutionary in any way. However, it does us the favour of letting us know precisely what it was going to be, so anyone expecting something different or more innovative should seek their thrills elsewhere, since this is giving us exactly what it says on the label. It’s an overly sentimental, sometimes quite heavy-handed comedy about friendship, compassion and the joys of finding your place in a hostile world, and while it takes some time to get to a coherent point (especially one that is slightly more obvious), it is clear that this is a film designed to entertain more than it is going to challenge the audience. It has a very distinct perspective, and one that does come across as slightly more obvious, targetted at a broader viewership seeking some escapism (and therefore no one will receive much concrete enlightenment in the process), but it does have many positive elements that do feel earnest and meaningful, capturing a distinct understanding of a world that is sometimes not as friendly to those who exist on the margins. No revolutionary statements are made, and the lessons we encounter are more revisions of what we already know rather than major revelations – and it all falls into something quite entertaining, if not slightly obvious. Holy Days does what it needs to do, and has a good time in the process – this was all that was required, and all that was delivered, which is appropriate enough, even if we do quietly wish it had gone slightly further.