The
town of Otakataka on New Zealand’s rugged west coast is economically depressed
and it is all Britain’s fault. Years ago, the dastardly imperialists lured
Chief Takataka into a life of debauchery and captivity. Before shuffling off
his mortal coil, the once promising leader left his wood carved mask to his
people, prophesying its arrival would herald better times. Unfortunately, it
has yet to leave England—and it is repressed Ian Bennett’s job to see that it
stays there in Terry Johnson’s The Man
Who Lost his Head,
which
might be turning up on select PBS stations anytime in the coming months.
Bennett’s
entire professional life has been spent at the British Museum of Imperial
Plunder, or whatever screenwriter Mark Wallington calls it. He is not very
politically adept, but his engagement to the director’s daughter ought to give
him a leg up over his showbiz oriented rival, Adrian Minter. Bizarrely, the
museum has opted for Minter’s South Pacific exhibition over Bennett’s Egyptian
proposal. That seems counter-intuitive for anyone with a layman’s understanding
of museum attendance, but the fictional soon-to-be released Captain Cook film
starring Brad Pitt partly explains it away.
Regardless,
unforeseen complications arise when the museum takes Takataka’s mask out of
mothballs. Tightly wound Maori activist Zac promptly files a claim, which the
museum has no intention of honoring, but they have to put on a show of due
consideration for appearances sake. To seal the deal for his promotion, Bennett
is dispatched to Otakataka for some glad-handing and fact-finding that should
all culminate in a summary rejection of their claim. Yet, despite his reserved
demeanor and social awkwardness, a halting romantic attraction develops between
him and Lollie, the local school teacher.
Essentially,
Lost Head is like a Hugh Grant rom-com
from the early 1990s, except the principals are ten or fifteen years older. It
is a cinch that fuddy-duddy Bennett will learn some late life lessons and
British imperialism will swiffered into the dustbin of history. Still, it is
appealing to see middle-aged romance blossom on screen. As Bennett and Lollie,
Martin Clunes (a.k.a. Doc Martin) and Nicola Kawana duly forge some pleasant
chemistry.
Nevertheless,
the narrative is such a by-the-numbers affair, it gives viewers plenty of time
to pedantically pick apart the raggedy details. For instance, the precipitating
claim to Takataka’s mask seems especially weak considering it has never been
out of British possession or traveled off England’s green and pleasant land.
The supporting Otakataka villagers are also predictably quirky, beyond all
reason. Most frustratingly, Johnson rarely capitalizes on the surrounding natural
beauty of the North Island locale.
