NOTHING ABOUT JONAH Lomu’s life was simple. One of the greatest rugby players of all time, Lomu’s life was cut cruelly short by the disease that had made much of his playing career a struggle. Even in death, Lomu’s legacy is tangled in complications.
On 7 September, LOMU will hit cinemas for one night only. Such were the obstacles around his estate, the theatrical documentary focusing on the life of one of the great All Blacks was 10 years in the making. Irish filmmaker Gavin Fitzgerald, who worked alongside Tongan co-director Vea Mafile’o for the project, says it was “a privilege” to tell Lomu’s story.
“The 1995 World Cup, I have a distinct memory of the excitement about Jonah Lomu in the house, and as a seven or eight-year-old kid, I used to go into the garden after watching him play and pretend to be him, because he had that superhuman thing going.
“So my impression is he’s a superhuman, and now you have the task of humanising him.”
The first half of the film rolls through Lomu’s supersonic ascension to the top of the game. In his underage days, he bulldozes past the few defenders able to get close enough to him, a giant among boys.
In 1994, not long after his 19th birthday, Lomu became the youngest ever All Black, a record he still holds. His Test debut is a rough experience, struggling in new surroundings having been relocated from the back row to the wing. Coaches decide to let him develop in the Sevens game, news Lomu likens to receiving a bullet in the mouth.
A young Lomu during an All Blacks training session. Alamy Stock Photo
Alamy Stock Photo
The following summer, he’s emerging as a world superstar as we watch the familiar footage of his four-try haul against England at the 1995 World Cup in South Africa.
These are the glory moments we know so well, yet so much of Lomu’s story is one of sadness, and the exploration of his family and Tongan cultural background is where this film shines, alongside peeling the layers back on his long health battles.
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“I think the closest you can get to understanding him is to understand his formative years and that cultural foundation and what it means to be a Tongan, because their society, their culture works very differently. It’s all about the collective, and respect is a big thing, being humble. There’s a lot of great things and great values, but there’s also this element of what works on the island doesn’t translate as well to when you’re in New Zealand and a very modern sort of western city.
“So there’s a clash of culture there that was really interesting to explore.”
Lomu holds off England's Tony Underwood at the 1995 World Cup. Alamy Stock Photo
Alamy Stock Photo
Lomu’s early years were tough, with a strict, violent father and complicated upbringing. As a child, Lomu was brought up by his mother’s oldest sister, believing this family to be his parents. This was a common enough decision given the financial pressures on families in the community, but it’s striking to hear Lomu reflect on joining his birth parents as an older child, thinking of them as “strangers”.
Friends recall Lomu as a gentle giant in a tough neighbourhood. “You walk down the road and if you didn’t know how to fight, you were gonna get a hiding,” he tells us.
Lomu would be fighting all his life. As a young man surging to global fame, the rare kidney disease that would wrap its claws around Lomu and cut his life tragically short was already taking hold. Coaches wondered why a young, powerful sprinter couldn’t last the distance on longer runs, questioning if their prodigious talent was lazy. Lomu initially kept the diagnosis private, asking the team doctor to collect his medication in an effort to keep his now world-famous name off any prescription labels.
“When he had that condition, I remember thinking as a young man, ‘Oh, he’ll overcome that, it’s just a minor setback in his journey to getting another three World Cups in’,” Fitzgerald recalls.
“But it was delusional for him to think he could beat this terrible disease. It was amazing he did so well, but there was an element there of the self-belief thing is sort of verging into a dangerous territory.”
There is a vulnerability to Lomu, evident through the affectionate words from former New Zealand coach John Hart, All Black great Sean Fitzpatrick and Lomu’s high school coach Amanaki Palavi. There are powerful contributions from Lomu’s mother, Hepi, and brother John, while the strong bond with his former manager Phil Kingsley Jones comes across as one the key relationships in Lomu’s life.
“What closer can you get to a mother really telling you about their son and everything that happened, and she’s a tough woman, she’s no BS, very traditional. But there’s love there, a mother’s love, which is complicated as well, and that was a real driving force of the film.
“Because he threaded different worlds, his identity was quite fragmented. Being an All Black meant so much to him, and then he was Tongan. He wasn’t going to do it the way they wanted him to do it.
Lomu in action against Ireland in 1995. Billy Stickland / INPHO
Billy Stickland / INPHO / INPHO
“And I think he clung on to things because he had issues with father figures and things like that, and he was adopted by a Welsh manager, Philip Kingsley Jones. So there’s a whole collage of identities around him, and that’s why it was really interesting to try to bring him out in the way that he truly was.”
Fitzgerald has previously made films about high-profile stars such as Liam Gallagher, but it’s a different process when you can’t be in the same room as the subject of your story.
“It’s quite freeing in a lot of ways because someone like Liam has quite a protective brand around him, and it’s actually really hard to get under the skin. That’s a learning process. With Jonah, OK, you can’t talk to him, but I feel the gap between his death and it being 10 years, all the contributors were just really open and ready to be real and say it like it was.
“I did feel very protective of him because of that vulnerability in his eyes. But you have to learn from his story, you can’t hide the reality that this guy died young and broke, and that would be very surprising to people, this super famous guy, how did this happen?
So there’s a lot of questions in there, which hopefully will make the audience think a little deeper about how we treat our own.”
In all aspects of his life, Lomu was a deeply private man, uncomfortable with microphones and cameras, explaining “where I come from, you don’t speak much.” As media attention intensifies, the quiet young athlete struggles with his new-found status as his private life is thrust under the spotlight.
In his 20s, Lomu marries his first wife in secret, but the news reaches the media before he’s had time to inform his own family. Lomu’s mother cuts a devastated figure telling a TV reporter she’s “not quite sure” if they will be able to patch things up. We watch an emotional Lomu join his new bride for a TV interview, admitting “I was scared they (family) wouldn’t let me do it.” Even more remarkable is the footage from inside the Lomu home, the star All Black with bowed head apologising to his family.
The complex private life clouds much of the second half of the film. We hear of Lomu’s relationship issues as marriages break down, and the financial struggles that follow years of medical expenses, divorces, generosity and lavish expenditure.
Lomu had health problems throughout his playing career. Alamy Stock Photo
Alamy Stock Photo
Even Lomu’s funeral creates difficulties, as we get insight into the tensions behind the scenes following his death in 2015.
A complex, multi-layer figure, who left behind a legacy that transcended the sport. LOMU is a powerful watch which reminds us that for all this supreme athlete gave the game of rugby, a kinder hand in life would have allowed him to reach even greater heights.
“I hope that if he were to see this documentary, he might feel that it was fair, but we’ll never know that,” adds Fitzgerald, who is currently working on an Irish language film focused on Currach racing in Connemara.
“I do think that alongside opening him up and getting deep, we’re also protecting his legacy, which was amazing, and he inspired so many and there’s so many Pacifica athletes that rule the game of rugby. And if you go to one of these islands, the resources aren’t the same as in this side of the world. It is changing, but there is certainly work to be done there, because without the likes of Jonah, even in Ireland today, Bundee (Aki) and all these guys, it’s not as exciting a game.
“So I think work needs to be done there. The message is important to me: it’s not just about the person, it’s about what we can learn from this.”
LOMU is in cinemas for one night only Monday 7 September. Book tickets at lomu-doc.com
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'Jonah Lomu threaded different worlds, his identity was quite fragmented'
NOTHING ABOUT JONAH Lomu’s life was simple. One of the greatest rugby players of all time, Lomu’s life was cut cruelly short by the disease that had made much of his playing career a struggle. Even in death, Lomu’s legacy is tangled in complications.
On 7 September, LOMU will hit cinemas for one night only. Such were the obstacles around his estate, the theatrical documentary focusing on the life of one of the great All Blacks was 10 years in the making. Irish filmmaker Gavin Fitzgerald, who worked alongside Tongan co-director Vea Mafile’o for the project, says it was “a privilege” to tell Lomu’s story.
“He’s my first memory of sport,” says Fitzgerald.
“The 1995 World Cup, I have a distinct memory of the excitement about Jonah Lomu in the house, and as a seven or eight-year-old kid, I used to go into the garden after watching him play and pretend to be him, because he had that superhuman thing going.
“So my impression is he’s a superhuman, and now you have the task of humanising him.”
The first half of the film rolls through Lomu’s supersonic ascension to the top of the game. In his underage days, he bulldozes past the few defenders able to get close enough to him, a giant among boys.
In 1994, not long after his 19th birthday, Lomu became the youngest ever All Black, a record he still holds. His Test debut is a rough experience, struggling in new surroundings having been relocated from the back row to the wing. Coaches decide to let him develop in the Sevens game, news Lomu likens to receiving a bullet in the mouth.
The following summer, he’s emerging as a world superstar as we watch the familiar footage of his four-try haul against England at the 1995 World Cup in South Africa.
These are the glory moments we know so well, yet so much of Lomu’s story is one of sadness, and the exploration of his family and Tongan cultural background is where this film shines, alongside peeling the layers back on his long health battles.
“I think the closest you can get to understanding him is to understand his formative years and that cultural foundation and what it means to be a Tongan, because their society, their culture works very differently. It’s all about the collective, and respect is a big thing, being humble. There’s a lot of great things and great values, but there’s also this element of what works on the island doesn’t translate as well to when you’re in New Zealand and a very modern sort of western city.
“So there’s a clash of culture there that was really interesting to explore.”
Lomu’s early years were tough, with a strict, violent father and complicated upbringing. As a child, Lomu was brought up by his mother’s oldest sister, believing this family to be his parents. This was a common enough decision given the financial pressures on families in the community, but it’s striking to hear Lomu reflect on joining his birth parents as an older child, thinking of them as “strangers”.
Friends recall Lomu as a gentle giant in a tough neighbourhood. “You walk down the road and if you didn’t know how to fight, you were gonna get a hiding,” he tells us.
Lomu would be fighting all his life. As a young man surging to global fame, the rare kidney disease that would wrap its claws around Lomu and cut his life tragically short was already taking hold. Coaches wondered why a young, powerful sprinter couldn’t last the distance on longer runs, questioning if their prodigious talent was lazy. Lomu initially kept the diagnosis private, asking the team doctor to collect his medication in an effort to keep his now world-famous name off any prescription labels.
“When he had that condition, I remember thinking as a young man, ‘Oh, he’ll overcome that, it’s just a minor setback in his journey to getting another three World Cups in’,” Fitzgerald recalls.
There is a vulnerability to Lomu, evident through the affectionate words from former New Zealand coach John Hart, All Black great Sean Fitzpatrick and Lomu’s high school coach Amanaki Palavi. There are powerful contributions from Lomu’s mother, Hepi, and brother John, while the strong bond with his former manager Phil Kingsley Jones comes across as one the key relationships in Lomu’s life.
“What closer can you get to a mother really telling you about their son and everything that happened, and she’s a tough woman, she’s no BS, very traditional. But there’s love there, a mother’s love, which is complicated as well, and that was a real driving force of the film.
“Because he threaded different worlds, his identity was quite fragmented. Being an All Black meant so much to him, and then he was Tongan. He wasn’t going to do it the way they wanted him to do it.
“And I think he clung on to things because he had issues with father figures and things like that, and he was adopted by a Welsh manager, Philip Kingsley Jones. So there’s a whole collage of identities around him, and that’s why it was really interesting to try to bring him out in the way that he truly was.”
Fitzgerald has previously made films about high-profile stars such as Liam Gallagher, but it’s a different process when you can’t be in the same room as the subject of your story.
“It’s quite freeing in a lot of ways because someone like Liam has quite a protective brand around him, and it’s actually really hard to get under the skin. That’s a learning process. With Jonah, OK, you can’t talk to him, but I feel the gap between his death and it being 10 years, all the contributors were just really open and ready to be real and say it like it was.
“I did feel very protective of him because of that vulnerability in his eyes. But you have to learn from his story, you can’t hide the reality that this guy died young and broke, and that would be very surprising to people, this super famous guy, how did this happen?
In all aspects of his life, Lomu was a deeply private man, uncomfortable with microphones and cameras, explaining “where I come from, you don’t speak much.” As media attention intensifies, the quiet young athlete struggles with his new-found status as his private life is thrust under the spotlight.
In his 20s, Lomu marries his first wife in secret, but the news reaches the media before he’s had time to inform his own family. Lomu’s mother cuts a devastated figure telling a TV reporter she’s “not quite sure” if they will be able to patch things up. We watch an emotional Lomu join his new bride for a TV interview, admitting “I was scared they (family) wouldn’t let me do it.” Even more remarkable is the footage from inside the Lomu home, the star All Black with bowed head apologising to his family.
The complex private life clouds much of the second half of the film. We hear of Lomu’s relationship issues as marriages break down, and the financial struggles that follow years of medical expenses, divorces, generosity and lavish expenditure.
Even Lomu’s funeral creates difficulties, as we get insight into the tensions behind the scenes following his death in 2015.
A complex, multi-layer figure, who left behind a legacy that transcended the sport. LOMU is a powerful watch which reminds us that for all this supreme athlete gave the game of rugby, a kinder hand in life would have allowed him to reach even greater heights.
“I hope that if he were to see this documentary, he might feel that it was fair, but we’ll never know that,” adds Fitzgerald, who is currently working on an Irish language film focused on Currach racing in Connemara.
“I do think that alongside opening him up and getting deep, we’re also protecting his legacy, which was amazing, and he inspired so many and there’s so many Pacifica athletes that rule the game of rugby. And if you go to one of these islands, the resources aren’t the same as in this side of the world. It is changing, but there is certainly work to be done there, because without the likes of Jonah, even in Ireland today, Bundee (Aki) and all these guys, it’s not as exciting a game.
“So I think work needs to be done there. The message is important to me: it’s not just about the person, it’s about what we can learn from this.”
LOMU is in cinemas for one night only Monday 7 September. Book tickets at lomu-doc.com
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Jonah Lomu on the big screen Rugby New Zealand