Alex Casey: Docos spotlight struggle of women to be heard

Karen Hay interviewed Kiwi music legends and their younger counterparts for Prime's <i>NZ Women in Rock</i>.

TV specials poignant reminders of value of female perspectives.

This week, two primetime documentary specials put New Zealand women in the spotlight, and it couldn't have come at a better time. Following the very recent, very public quashing of the New Zealand women's voice in Parliament, the telly has stepped in with this near-cosmic reminder that we need to listen to women and their experiences.

Last night Prime and TV One aired documentaries exploring two very different facets of the New Zealand woman facing harsh and oppressive societal realities. Prime's NZ Women in Rock told the stories of the women in our modern music scene, who have carved the way in the industry for the likes of Lorde (mostly just Lorde). TV One's The Women of Pike River told another story " one of women in the face of tragedy, picking up the pieces and fighting for justice for their brothers, husbands and sons.

NZ Women in Rock returned to the early careers of musicians such as Shona Laing, Jenny Morris and Margaret Urlich, as well as later figures like Anika Moa and Brooke Fraser. Some got into music after being discovered in talent quests, others like Moa persisted out of defiance after being told by her male peers that she couldn't write or play. What Moa hinted at here was the more illuminating part of the special: the unique experience of being a woman in an industry that was dominated by men. "I thought 'if he can do it, I can do it'," Margaret Urlich recalled of her brother Pat.

Unfortunately, it wasn't as easy in reality. Brooke Fraser remembered being the only person " in a studio full of men " who wasn't asked about an arrangement change on her own album. Anika Moa shook her head as she spoke of being asked by the label to lose weight. "We don't need those pressures because the whole world is full of pressures," she sighed. Recalling the distinct female experience gave this documentary its sharp insight, but it's worth noting that the scope of the documentary didn't extend beyond singer/songwriters who found mainstream success. Would have been nice to hear outsiders' stories too.

The Women of Pike River had a much narrower scope, and was therefore able to probe far deeper into one group's struggle in the wake of tragedy. In the aftermath of the 2011 mining disaster, the documentary followed the group of women fighting for the 29 men that perished. The bodies were never retrieved, the families merely given $5000 each. Anna Osborne, wife of Milt Osborne, welled up as she described how much the kids adored him. The camera lingered as she stared stoically forward, one woman of many determined to get answers. Olivia Monk spoke of her brother Michael, who had a smile that could light up the room. "Anything can happen at any time," she reflected, eyes glassy.

To match these powerful words, the beautiful cinematography was veiled in a hollow tragedy. Haunting shots lingered over the crumbled mine shaft entrance, the literal and metaphorical red tape fluttering in the wind. Languid tracking shots of empty smoko rooms emphasised that something is missing: there is still no closure for these families.

What cut through most of all was the steely determination of this small group of women to go up against the immense powers that be. "Remember us, John," Osborne is seen yelling as John Key makes a swift exit from a local meeting into his Prime Ministerial car. To have the camera there, capturing every bluntly ignored plea, spoke volumes.

Despite the abject tragedy and subsequent negligence following the disaster, The Women of Pike River expressed a courageousness seldom seen. Assembling within their homes over tea and scones, the women continue to support each other through prolonged grief, organising and discussing their next steps towards their ever-more unlikely goal. This image was not unlike interviewer Karen Hay hugging a tearful Jenny Morris as she spoke candidly of her neurological disorder in NZ Women in Rock.

Watching both of these documentaries, I was reminded of a talk that author Alice Walker gave in Auckland a few years ago. She spoke of the importance of women coming together in small circles and sharing their life experience as a means of progress. Eventually the little circles will strengthen, grow and link to other circles. Last night, witnessing these crucial, brave conversations on our television screens, I can't help but feel that all our circles became more closely linked.