The jealous wife, the other woman, the evil stepmother, the conniving mother-in-law, the bickering sisters, the traitorous friend… Film culture is too often pervaded by tropes of women grappling at each other's throats, turning on each other instead of showing the camaraderie that often characterises male friendships. Against a patriarchal structure that is designed to pit women against each other the audience are left thinking, what would happen if the women choose to support each other instead?

This is precisely the question We Were Dangerous explores. New Zealand’s Josephine Stewart-Te Whiu directorial debut, adapted from a screenplay by Maddie Dai, We Were Dangerous challenges the competitor trope that women and girls are often relegated to, instead advocating for the power of sisterhood.

Set on a remote island in New Zealand in 1954, the world of We Were Dangerous is a heavily patriarchal society with curiously few men appearing on screen. The group of Māori girls, stuck on the former leper colony island as part of the ‘Te Motu School for Incorrigible and Delinquent Girls’, are effectively cut off from all connections with the outside world to keep them chaste until marriage.

The swirling classical music that backs much of the film, seems to paint the island as stuck in time. With the dense foliage and peaceful country air, lively comedic dialogue between the girls and the jaded domineering Matron (Rima Te Wiata), there are moments when the film feels quaint, communal and cottage core. Yet the idyllic vision is perforated by the constant reminder that this island is a prison camp with gruelling forced sterilisation operations occurring behind the closed doors of the haunting red cross of the medical hut.  

While most of the story, like its characters, is confined to the island, there are a few moments through flashbacks where viewers get to catch glimpses of the characters’ lives before Te Motu. The story centres on three main characters: the headstrong, resolute Nellie (Erana James) eldest child of a large working class family who believe herself innocent of all crimes; lovable, mischievous foster-home runaway Daisy (Manaia Hall), and Lou (Nathalie Morris), daughter of an upper-middle class doctor, sent away for being a ‘sex deviant’ after being caught in a lesbian relationship with her maths tutor.

Stewart-Te Whiu expertly balances the gravity of the girls' situation and the abuses occurring on the island with moments of delicious humour. Feeding the film with comic moments, Dai and Stewart-Te Whiu’s dialogue gives relief from the hard to watch moments while underscoring the absurdity of the traditional, conservative beliefs being enforced upon them.

The contrasts are stark and comical. In one scene, we see the girls united before a class - Daisy, full of life, leads them in a game, singing in Māori. They stomp, kick and slash arms from side to side, taking up space - loud, confident and raucous.

This vibrancy is abruptly juxtaposed with etiquette lessons where the girls are sat in a silent circle. The visiting teacher pontificates on how they must hold their hands, so they don’t look stubby. Matron quickly and self-consciously shifts her hand in response - one of the many comic moments that Stewart-Te Whiu sprinkles throughout this film. “Next you must put your legs like this,” the teacher commands.

“Does she think we don’t speak English?” Lou whispers to Nellie.

Daisy with hands positioned on her knees as instructed, subtly shifts back into the playful Māori dance of before. She slashes her hands from side to side, her movement full of youthful energy and joy.

Whack, Matron slaps her.

A turn to quiet.

The girls’ previous confidence and playfulness are wiped away.

"Do you think these girls are ready to pick things up from the floor?" the teacher directs at Matron, another deliciously sharp line by Stewart-Te Whiu and Dai that breaks the silence.

"No," Matron responds, flatly.

The matron’s narrative voice interspersed throughout the film, speaks as if it is reading from scripture – a rule book on how the girls must exist. It becomes evident that she is trapped in a system that prioritises control over understanding, stifling the natural expression of the girls rather than fostering their growth. This is symbolised by the sign above the schoolroom that reads, “From barbarism to domestication,” which reflects the matron’s belief that the evidence of the girls’ Māori culture must be stifled.

The aerial shots, capturing the dilapidated huts set against the wild island landscape,      build a contrast between the wildness of the girls – youthful and full of life - with the institutional fustiness that seeks to suppress and control them. This visual contrast made me feel aligned with the girls, connecting with their youthful vitality and the untamed natural world around them.

In one striking moment, the lens zooms out from the white schoolroom, standing against the island's rugged terrain. This cinematography vividly captures the tension between external forces and the girls’ natural development, portraying the clash between a sterile, controlling ideology and the beauty of the island’s disorder.

One of my favourite scenes was one in which all the girls danced - united in their blue uniforms. Daisy starts the movement, broom in hand with an Elvis like glide to her knees. Nellie joins, raising her hands, drawing Louisa in. Suddenly all the girls join in a rave in the middle of the room. The non-diegetic music that we hear as the audience is transformative and uplifting while the girls seem to create their own beat, celebrating the power in their sisterhood, youth and creativity.

In We Were Dangerous the scene is set for women to turn on each other, trapped together on an island with a tyrannical matron at the head everything points towards mayhem. But instead, the film reveals the strength of the bond between these girls, a sisterhood that is both nourishing and refreshing.

The power of sisterhood is what resonated most with me from this film. In the beautiful, kaleidoscopic scene where the girls dance together - youthful and free. In the tender moment when they lie on the floor of their hut, comforted by Daisy’s humour. In the peaceful stillness as they rest together in the island grass. These girls are strong, clever, complicated and funny, highlighting the strength of women united.

We Were Dangerous was screened as part of the 2025 Melbourne Women in Film Festival, and was the featured film in the Opening Night Gala. You can read more about this annual festival here.