INDIGENOUS NAʻAU premiered at the Hawaʻi International Film Festival presented by Halekulani.
“If we fail to remember where we come from, who we are, and the places that shape us, then we are already lost. But our kūpuna have always left breadcrumbs for us to pick up whenever we’re ready.” –Kuʻulei Kaili, Director of INDIGENOUS NAʻAU
With the onslaught of modernity, many Native Hawaiians are left grappling with a fractured sense of self. Stuck in the endless pursuit of financial stability, we often feel we don’t have enough time to engage with our elders. Some of us have already lost our kūpuna (elders) and are unsure how to move forward. With each passing day, we drift further and further from the values our ancestors fought so hard to instill in us. It’s as if we are all drifting alone on our own waʻa (canoes) without the knowledge and support necessary to find our way back home. That said, it’s only fitting that the people who’ve stepped forward to help guide us in the right direction are those who have studied traditional means of wayfinding.
INDIGENOUS NAʻAU is a profound documentary emphasizing the important role intergenerational knowledge and cultural education play in shaping the future of Hawaiʻi. Created by the Kānehūnāmoku Voyaging Academy (KVA) and directed by Kuʻulei Kaili, this film centers eleven kūpuna from the Windward Side of Oʻahu. Cultural practitioners, fishermen, canoe builders, artists, farmers, and more all share their manaʻo (wisdom) through visually striking and heartfelt interviews. Blending these stories together into a collage of tender moments, INDIGENOUS NAʻAU demonstrates how waʻa can serve as both literal and metaphorical vessels for ancestral guidance.
As I waited in line for a ticket to the sold-out Hawaiʻi Pacific Health Showcase, where INDIGENOUS NAʻAU premiered, I was greeted by the warm and familiar smile of Uncle Danny Bishop. His wife, Aunty Mealaʻaloha, is my grandmother’s cousin and my namesake. Aunty Meala gave me her extra ticket, and we sat down to enjoy the film together. Unbeknownst to me, she wasn’t just there to watch INDIGENOUS NAʻAU; she was one of the eleven kūpuna KVA chose to interview. Watching Aunty Meala share her experiences as an artist and water rights activist in front of a packed theater filled me with immense pride and gratitude for everyone who helped bring this film to life.
Shortly after the premiere, I had the privilege of speaking with Kuʻulei, her co-director Hunter Ramaekers, and one of the producers, Hulukoa Nunokawa. When asked about their process for acquiring such earnest interviews, they explained that their shooting practices were a bit unconventional compared to traditional documentaries. Rather than prioritizing the camera and getting the best shot, they focused on creating an environment where kūpuna felt comfortable sharing intimate details about their lived experiences. Some of the interviews with kūpuna are shot in their own living rooms. That alone demonstrates a level of trust that is not taken lightly in Hawaiian culture. After meeting with Kuʻulei, Hunter, and Hulukoa, I have no doubt that their sincerity and kindness played a major role in shaping this film.
From a technical standpoint, INDIGENOUS NAʻAU is fantastically well-crafted. Kuʻulei approached the film with deep intentionality, deliberately avoiding unnecessary intervention between the images on screen and the voices of each kūpuna. Rather than storyboarding every scene and letting the camera dictate the direction of the film, Kuʻulei chose to let the elders speak freely, sharing whatever wisdom, stories, and memories that came to mind. There are no flashy transitions or David Attenborough-like voice-overs, just kūpuna, their specialties, their ʻāina (land), and their loved ones. Through gorgeous cinematography, INDIGENOUS NAʻAU looks upon East Oʻahu and all the featured kūpuna with a loving, reverent gaze.
Although the final cut of INDIGENOUS NAʻAU is complete, they are still working to edit and prepare the full interviews with each elder, so that they can share that footage with their families. Kuʻulei’s choice to go above and beyond the typical expectations of a filmmaker is a powerful example of just how deeply the KVA team is invested in nurturing intergenerational knowledge and relationships.
INDIGENOUS NAʻAU is not just a documentary. It’s a love letter to the past, present, and future of Hawaiʻi. With every interview of kūpuna sitting alongside their keiki (children) and moʻopuna (grandchildren), this film creates a path of breadcrumbs that guide us back to our ancestors. When I asked Hulukoa, Hunter, and Kuʻulei what they imagined for the future of Hawaiian cinema, Hunter offered a surprising answer. He expressed hope that films like INDIGENOUS NAʻAU would eventually become obsolete, and that the preservation of ancestral knowledge would become so common that reminders to honor and listen to our elders would no longer be necessary. I share Hunter’s dream and look forward to the day when talking story with our kūpuna is a part of our regular routine. With the help of organizations like KVA, I’m hopeful we will reach that point. In the meantime, while so many of us are still lost, I am eternally grateful for the guidance of INDIGENOUS NAʻAU.
The HIFF ONLINE CREATIVES & CRITICS IMMERSIVE (HOCCI) program supports sustainable film criticism in Hawai’i through mentorship and paid career opportunities for Hawai’i-based AANHPI critics. The mission of HOCCI is to broaden diversity in film criticism across the Pacific and use influencer branding strategies to spark career opportunities. The 2025 HOCCI is supported by Critical Minded, a grant-making and learning initiative that supports cultural critics of color in the United States.
Lena Mealaʻaloha Stevens-Ng is an Afro-Indigenous, Native Hawaiian born and raised on Oʻahu. After graduating from Vassar College with a double-major in media studies and film, she began working full-time as a marketing coordinator and has traveled the continent expanding her professional skills. As an aspiring filmmaker with an affinity for experimental documentaries, she recently began working as a production assistant in hopes of one day creating short films that explore the vast perspectives and nuances of Indigenous life.
