Oscar Kightley Recalled His Favorite Behind-The-Scenes Memories From “Sione’s Wedding” And The One Memento He Kept From Set

One of the most beloved figures in the Pacific Islander community, Oscar Kightley is an actor, writer, director, comedian, and activist. There’s nothing this man can’t do! He co-wrote and starred in Sione’s Wedding, the iconic film that made Pasifika people around the world feel seen. As a member of the Naked Samoans comedy group, he co-created the award-winning animated series bro’Town. You can also find him in heartfelt Pasifika movies like Hunt for the Wilderpeople and Next Goal Wins.
In recent years, his play, Dawn Raids, returned to the stage, educating new generations about the discrimination Pasifika people faced in New Zealand during the ’70s and ’80s.
For BuzzFeed’s Voices of the Pacific series, I sat down with Oscar to chat about the memento he kept from Sione’s Wedding, his favorite aspect of Samoan culture, and more.
Editor’s note: This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
BuzzFeed: Sione’s Wedding is one of my favorite Pacific Islander films of all time. The movie has certainly cemented its place in pop culture — Duck Rockers for life! Did you know when you were writing it that it would turn out to be such a big hit?
Oscar Kightley: Well, I wrote it with my palagi [white] friend, James Griffin. He’d seen the Naked Samoans, and he was asked to come up with a script idea that we could all do [as] a film. None of us had done a film at that stage, and when we wrote it, we had no idea. We were just thrilled because when you start out as an actor in theater, if you’re lucky enough, you do a bit of TV, but the dream is always to be on that 50-foot screen. And so for us, we were just thrilled to have the opportunity to be in a movie. I had no idea. But we always believed in ourselves, we believed in our awesome cast, we believed in our story, and we believed in the studio behind it. So, it was just exciting. I can’t believe it was 20 years ago almost that came out. But we didn’t think that it would have the impact that it went on to have, still beloved even today.
Do you have any favorite behind-the-scenes memories during those days of filming?
I remember Robbie [Magasiva] crying hard out when we did the last scene because he was so emotional. We were just so desperate to do well. We wanted to represent our families, our cultures. We knew this is an opportunity; especially down here in Aotearoa, you don’t often get to make a movie. I just remember going to set every day, looking around, seeing my friends, seeing the Naked Samoans, Teuila, Madeleine. We got people paid to, with lint rollers, walk around, and they get all the fluff off your clothes and make sure that you look nice, and they check your teeth after lunch. We were just fully buzzing out on that. Because when you start out at school, performing and clowning around, you don’t really dare to dream that one day you could do it on a bigger stage. I think it took us 30 days to shoot, and every day was just magic.
BuzzFeed: Did you get to keep any special mementos after filming wrapped?
Yeah, I kept my wedding suit from it. They had a big costume sale at the end; that’s the thing that I was given. I thought I’d never get to do another movie. So, I wanted to keep my costume from it. I haven’t seen it for a while; I think it’s in the garage.
For many of us in the US, Sione’s Wedding was one of the first times we saw ourselves represented in film, so it still holds such a special place in our hearts! I especially appreciated how you portrayed Albert because he was a bit nerdy like me. What connected you to that character?
I wasn’t actually going to play Albert. All the Naked Samoans auditioned, and I ended up getting the part, and you can’t help but put a bit of yourself in it. So, I channeled that shy, slightly insecure [laughs] needing-confidence person. But with all the different characters, from Sefa to Michael to Albert to Stanley, we all tried to represent a different type. Because often in our portrayals, you get one type of Pacific Islander. And so, we wanted to have a nice variety, populate the film with all different types. But definitely, I connected to Albert’s shyness and his insecurity and his love for words [laughs].
That’s so cool that in the US, young Pacific people could take that as representation. It really speaks to the Pacific diaspora. We’re spread out all over the globe, but when our art comes out, it doesn’t matter what country you live in. If you have things in common, if you have common denominators in your culture or your upbringing or your DNA, you can find that representation. And before we got to tell our stories, we’d look to the States, to Black American stories and Latin stories. They were our inspiration when we were kids. Those were the shows we watched, and so that’s what fueled our dreams, really, the thought that we could one day do that as well, but for Pacific stories.
Have you ever faced challenges in your career as a Pacific Islander? If so, how did you overcome them?
When we come to these big countries where we become minorities, you get treated like minorities, and you get the stereotypes. You have all those expectations lumped on you by the wider population. I can’t say that being Pacific ever held me back because I always tried to use that as a strength, because that’s what I am. I got nothing else, and so, that’s what I draw on. They say when you’re a person of color, you’ve got to work 10 times as hard, and I think that has been the case a little bit in Aotearoa as well. The challenge is just being taken seriously and fighting for your space.
I remember when we did Sione’s Wedding 2, and I was being interviewed by a journalist from quite a big newspaper here. She asked me, “When are you going to make a normal film?” I was kind of stunned and flabbergasted, and she didn’t even realize the innate racism in that question. But those are the perceptions that you’re battling. Palagi filmmakers don’t get asked, “When you gonna make a film that doesn’t have white people in it?” So, I guess it’s more that perceptions of you as a Pacific person, your strengths, your weaknesses, you find challenging in your career.
When I look at your incredible career, from the Naked Samoans to bro’Town to your films, it’s clear that you often combine Pacific Islander representation with comedy. Why is that important to you?
Shame was one of the things we learned early on. When we come here, we look different, we dress different, we eat different food. I didn’t realize I was brown ’til I started school. I thought everyone’s just people, and then you get treated differently, and then you realize that because you’ve got a different skin color… But telling jokes, mocking your friends, and laughter became a bit of a coping mechanism. Also, clowning’s been in the Pacific for hundreds of years, and it’s actually a communication form for us. In Samoa, there’s a beautiful, old tradition of performers going from village to village, putting on plays. It was called faleaitu, house of spirits. They used to do these incredible performances, which would mock all the authority figures in the village, the chiefs, the pastors. But they were protected, and everybody would laugh. “Oh, it wasn’t us. It was the spirits in the house that came out.” And so, comedy in the Pacific is a really long tradition.
And in terms of the Naked Samoans, that was our inspiration, the faleaitu stuff. It’s not that we can’t be serious or that we can’t write serious stuff. Because all the boys and Teuila, Madeleine, all our friends who are in the film, we come from theater and serious performances. But we found that making people laugh was a really great way of telling the truth. That’s what George Bernard Shaw once said. “How do you share the truth with people? You make them laugh and slip it in when their mouths are open.” As opposed to a drama, which requires a different kind of interpretation, laughter’s instant. If you can make someone laugh, doesn’t matter whether you’re in the States, in the UK or New Zealand, you’ve instantly connected with that insight, with that heart.
It’s not that we suddenly woke up one day and went, “Hey, let’s do comedy.” It was in us already. We’d seen examples through our parents, through our uncles. We’d seen great performers of the past. We saw videos, we heard tapes. And so, comedy was actually quite a natural thing for us, and I guess what we’ve been able to do is actually transfer that into the mediums that are popular today.
You’ve appeared in several Taika Waititi movies, including Hunt for the Wilderpeople and Next Goal Wins. How would you describe him as a director?
Genius. Hilarious. Lovely. Just one of the boys who’s got a really crazy energy and a really amazing zest for life and telling stories about cool stuff. Next Goal Wins was just a dream. We shot that in Hawai’i. The cast, there was Samoan, Tongan, from Hawai’i, but also from Aotearoa, from Australia. Six weeks of hanging out in Hawai’i and just getting to laugh every day. And there was our mate directing, hanging out with these Hollywood bigwigs. It was awesome. We’ve known Taika since the end of the 1900s.
BuzzFeed: Do you have any favorite memories with him?
I was amazed Taika even did that film. He’d done Thor and JoJo Rabbit, and his schedule was crazy; I can’t believe he found time to squeeze that in. But it’s lucky we did because Next Goal Wins, that was the last film shot before COVID changed the whole world, I reckon. We wrapped in December 2019, and the week we got home, four people had died in a seafood market in Wuhan over this weird thing called COVID-19. But I remember Taika being really sick. There were times when he would be directing, and as soon as he was off set, he would be on the chair and a physio would be working on him. But he worked extremely hard, and I remember saying to him one time, “Bro, you’re doing so much. Do you get time to rest?” And he said something like he feels like he rested for most of his life, and now he’s finally getting to do what he really wants. And so, that was an awesome attitude. I just remember Taika being really sore, and he had a bad back. But despite that, he powered on. I think the energy of all the boys and all the cast around helped to get him through.
And getting to do the film with Dave Fane, who was also in Sione’s Wedding and bro’Town and the Naked Samoans, that was an absolute joy, too. This was another step up from Sione’s. Now suddenly we’re in Hawai’i, and there’s all these massive trailers and trucks. There’s a guy cooking steaks, and we’re like, “Oh, what’s that for?” And he goes, “Oh, that’s for everyone.” We’re like, “Wow! That’s incredible!” We’d walk around going, “Wow, we’ve really made it. Dave, look at this. This must be huge.” And then the crew would be like, “Oh no, this is small budget.” [Laughs] That was so cool, Next Goal Wins, and I’m really glad Taika made it. I’m proud of that film, and I love that we got to hang out with Michael Fassbender; he’s such a lovely man.
For Pacific Islanders, there are so many aspects of our cultures that we hold close to our hearts, from our foods to our dances to our tattoos. What’s your favorite part of your culture?
That’s a really good question. One of my favorite Samoan words is va, meaning the set of rules and protocols that dictates your social connection with other people, your relationships. I love that aspect of our culture, that the space between you and someone else is not just empty space — it’s what actually connects you. Epeli Hauʻofa, a great Tongan academic and thinker, said something like, “People look at the Pacific Ocean and see these little islands dotted around, and they think [it’s] this vast empty space. We look at it and see, no, it’s a sea of islands.” That is the landmass that connects us.
I think my favorite part of our culture is concepts like that, that are important to us. I love that whole concept of interconnectedness. Pasifika is so many different groups, too, right? There’s Micronesia, there’s Polynesia, there’s Melanesia. And we’re connected to each other, whichever one of those nations you fit into. You can be in a room of Fijians and Solomon Islanders and Tongans, Niuean, Cook Island, Micronesian, and you will feel a common thread that I think links us all.
Do you have a favorite Samoan food?
Well, this isn’t actually Samoan [laughs] but growing up — do you get corned beef in the States? Pisupo?
BuzzFeed: I don’t know if they eat it here actually, but my nana in New Zealand LOVES pisupo.
It’s like a currency. My favorite growing up was pisupo and rice, pretty much anything with rice. I love it all. We have our own soul food. I love that concept of soul food because food is actually so important to us as well. But if I had to pick one, it would be oka, raw fish and coconut cream.
BuzzFeed: I finally went back to Samoa a few years ago, and OMG, the food!
Oh wow, how was it?
BuzzFeed: So beautiful. I got to visit my nana and papa’s villages. Walking those same paths and swimming in the same water they did, it was such a heartfelt experience, connecting with my roots. I’ve been telling everyone, “Please go back to your island as soon as you can! It will change you.”
Yeah, it really will. We all live in different countries, but I always throw it back to our home islands. We always have to go back and connect to that, regardless of your language journey, or how comfortable in that world you feel. We’re all on different parts of that journey. Going back is really important, whether it’s your grandparents from there, your great-grandparents, it doesn’t matter. It gives you an appreciation of just how far our people have come. They were isolated in the Pacific Ocean for so long before Europeans figured out the technology required to sail into an ocean that covered a third of the world. We were there for thousands of years before they figured out how. And then, first came religion, then capitalism and colonization. But our story is a connected one, and it goes back a long way. We’re not just little people living our own lives; we’re all part of something bigger.
We touched on this earlier, but you actually got your start in show biz through theater. You’ve formed several Pacific Islander theater companies and written numerous plays, including Dawn Raids. The play raises awareness of the racist New Zealand police raids that targeted Pacific Islanders in the ‘70s and led to deportations and widespread fear throughout the community. Can you speak to your personal experiences that informed the play?
Man, when I arrived in New Zealand as a four-year-old, the raids had just started. It was the peak of anti-Pacific sentiment. It’s still here [laughs]. But I just remember you were too scared to even go beyond your own letterbox. Our safe places were our homes, our churches, and that’s it. Even workplaces weren’t safe. We’re a storytelling culture; we didn’t write stuff down. We told, we learned, we shared history, knowledge, information, with stories. And yet, when it came to the dawn raids, the stories dried up, and part of that was our elders trying to protect us.
I have friends my age who have very real memories of police bursting in, their grandma having to hide in a deep freeze. One story I’ll tell you that I found out later was from this teacher. This was in the early ’80s, and he was a woodwork teacher. Even though the height of the raids were in the ’70s, the treatment of Pacific Islander immigrants was still pretty bad, and whenever the immigration people would turn up to the office, reception would ring the phone in his classroom once, and then stop. That’s how he knew the immigration folks are here. Any Pacific students, they would hide under the floor, under floorboards. And I’ve seen the boards; you can see the graffiti. That was outrageous to me.
And especially when you look at what’s going on in the States now with ICE. How crazy that something like the dawn raids, which started in the ’70s — you’d think that would be the end of it as we go on as a society, and we become better people and better versions of ourselves — how crazy that stuff’s still going on. I wish Dawn Raids was a history lesson about something that used to happen, but it’s still relevant today in terms of describing how minority communities are treated. I’m seeing it writ large in the States right now, through social media and mainstream media.
In terms of my experience of the dawn raids, I just remember our parents not really wanting to talk about it because it was too hurtful, because they couldn’t understand why it was happening. And because we’re so devout. We’re family people. We’re not troublemakers; we’re not lazy; we’re not criminals. But that is how we were painted, and those stories were spread around to justify the treatment of us, and that’s why I think we got into comedy, because when you think about this stuff, it can really get you down, and it can drain you of your joyful life. Comedy brings that back. It doesn’t make light of the moments; it just helps you deal with it, helps you go through it.
In addition to your writing, you’re politically active in your daily life. You’ve encouraged people to vote, joined your local board, are involved with the Pacific Islander organization Cause Collective, and were present during the New Zealand government’s apology for the dawn raids. As far as activism goes, what’s your proudest moment?
I was really proud when Dawn Raids came back to the stage in 2022 because it was last performed in ’98. Pacific people loved it, and they were profoundly moved by it, but the general population was like, “More brown people making depressing stories about depressing things that happened to them.” That was the attitude. But when Auckland Theatre Company brought that back in 2022 with Pacific Underground producing it, it got a whole new audience. I remember on opening night, I had this elderly palagi lady come up to me in tears, and she said sorry [laughs]. And I was like, “It’s okay! It wasn’t you.” This isn’t a play to make white people feel bad about what happened to us. It’s just telling a story about a family’s experience of that time. But one of my proud moments was when the play came back, seeing a new audience that was maybe ready to hear the story now, with a bit more awareness. And young people that weren’t even born when I wrote it. We had school matinees, and they were packed. Schools from all over Auckland, flash schools, poor schools.
But my proudest moments are always because you do something for the audience. It’s never about you. It’s not: “I’m so proud. Look what I did.” It’s: “I’m so proud. Look at the audience. Look at the response.” You’re planting seeds; you’re telling stories; you’re changing hearts; you’re widening minds. So my proudest moments, any time, about anything I had done, is when someone in the audience comes up to me, whether it’s on the street or in the theater, and just says they really connected with it. That’s really why you do this. I always remember that I’m part of the audience, and everything is for the audience. And telling the story isn’t the whole process. Hearing the story is the rest of it. Unless a story is heard, it’s only halfway done. So, to me, that makes it, the nexus of when the audience connects.
You were appointed a member of the New Zealand Order of Merit for your services to television and theatre. What did that recognition mean to you?
It was awesome. I always wanted one when I was little. I used to read the paper every year where they came out. I’d look for my name. Remember, this was before I’d even done anything. So when I finally got one, I was stoked. But at the same time, you don’t do anything alone. It’s lovely to be talking to you and being able to share some of this stuff. But it’s never on your own; it’s always with your fellow actors, your fellow writers, all the producers that pull the machinery in place, in the infrastructure. But I could say to my family, “Look, one of us got this, and this is for all of us.”
What do you want your legacy to be, and how do you hope future generations will remember your contributions to Pacific Islander history?
Wow. I always think legacy is a question for other people, a thing for other people to say. I’m part of my parents’ legacy, when they left Samoa to come here. Anything that I do, me and my friends, we’re part of someone else’s legacy.
In terms of personal legacy, that’s for other people to call on. But when I look at our show bro’Town, the part of the audience that I thought of the most was poor, brown kids, because that was me and my friends. We just wanted little, poor brown kids to not feel so bad about being poor, and to have a bit of heart and spirit and soul and realize that their world was valid and awesome, even if it’s populated with, let’s say, non-ideal authority figures. I’d love to walk into a video shop and see a whole row of Pacific films and stories. And there’s heaps; there’s so many other people doing it, from every corner of the globe, making films, making short stories, making animation, and we’re all part of the same legacy.
But I feel like, in a way, everything that’s happened in the last 3000 years is the legacy of those first people that set out into this big, vast Pacific ocean before the islands were populated because they saw birds flying, and they thought, “Well, they must be landing somewhere.” That was a voyage into the unknown. And I think in terms of creativity, so much of it is a voyage into the unknown. But you have your compass, which is your moral center and your values, and you have your guiding stars that you follow. But I think we’re all part of the same legacy of our ancestors. It’s just one big, long line, and I hope that line keeps going and going.
What advice do you have for young Pacific Islander creatives?
Find your voice, back yourself, and keep going. This shit’s hard. I used to go and talk to schools, and they’d say, “Oscar, would you advise people to get into the arts?” And I’d say, “Nah.” [Laughs] But if you think this is what you’re made to do, if you’re prepared to make the sacrifices, physically, financially, sometimes might feel spiritually, then that’s you. Nina Simone said an artist’s job is to be sensitive and reflect the times they live in. And I really believe that’s true. Toni Morrison said the point of having power is to help other people get it. Two quotes from two great Black American woman writers. They’re so true. My advice is just find your voice and keep going and use it.
And finally, what does being Pacific Islander mean to you?
Being Pasifika, to me, means coming from the most special part of this planet. There’s one particular angle of the Earth that you can look at, and the whole thing is the Pacific Ocean. That’s how huge it is. And so being Pasifika, to me, means just coming from that part of the world and being imbued with all the values and stories from our ancestors in the past that make us who we are today. And we’re a living culture. It’s not just peer pressure from dead people, our traditions. Today’s generation is writing a different story, but it’s all part of the same story. So being Pasifika, to me — gosh, I’ve never been asked that, but I just come from this really cool part of the world, and I’m so grateful and blessed that I was, and so I want to use all the tools that came with to walk gently through this Earth and know its beauty all the days of my life and spread that as much as I can.
Thanks for chatting with us, Oscar!
You can read more Voices of the Pacific interviews here.