There’s an inevitable air of melancholy overhanging this profile of New Zealand rugby star Jonah Lomu; we all know how the story ended for this magnificent human specimen, who died in 2015 aged 40 as a result of a longterm kidney disorder. Lomu, of course, became a legend of the game after breaking into the All Blacks side – the ferociously high-achieving New Zealand national team, for anyone outside the rugby-appreciating universe – at the scarcely believable age of 19; his special combination of a tank-like physique, electric pace and ability to slalom at high speed gave him an almost unstoppable force in what is arguably the toughest contact sport of all. Lomu had the bulk and power of a forward (I liked the detail that he was sometimes drafted into the back of the scrum when they needed “more power”) but he was set loose on the wing, where he was twice the speed and three times the size of everyone else, and where his destructive instincts could wreak havoc.
Well, modern rugby appears to have learned the Lomu lesson; everyone has bulked up – so its arguable whether he would have the same impact today. But as this film underlines, there was a lot more to Lomu’s story than steamrolling the hapless English backline; he had a complicated relationship both with his Tongan heritage and his superstar status, the combination of which seemed to overwhelm him. Interestingly, this film (directed by Gavin Fitzgerald and Vea Mafile’o) initially appears to push the by-now customary idea that Lomu’s Indigenous heritage was an ineffable source of strength, wisdom and insight; however it soon becomes clear that this wasn’t entirely the case.
