Jemaine Clement Movies

A high-school reject gets ripped off by a famous fantasy author at a writing camp in this comedy from director Jared Hess (Nacho Libre, Napoleon Dynamite). Michael Angarano, Sam Rockwell, Jemaine Clement, and Jennifer Coolidge star in the Ripcord Pictures production. ~ Jeremy Wheeler, All Movie Guide

This rollicking HBO offering chronicled the misadventures of Flight of the Conchords, a two-man "digi-folk" band from New Zealand. It could do nothing less -- starring in the half-hour series was Flight of the Conchords, a genuine two-man digi-folk band from New Zealand consisting of comedians Jemaine Clement and Bret McKenzie, who created the property in concert (no pun intended) with James Bobin. The two protagonists, cleverly named Jemaine and Bret, had come all the way from their mother country to hit it big in New York City. There were only two things keeping them from skyrocketing to stardom: they never seemed to get any decent bookings, and they were bloody awful. Doing rather less than his best to make household names out of Jemaine (the one with the glasses) and Bret (the one with the beard) was their agent-manager Murray (Rhys Darby), whose day job as a cultural aide at the New Zealand Consulate's tourism division gave him plenty of free time -- if not plenty of money -- to arrange such gigs as a retro rock video in which the boys were dressed in ill-fitting cardboard robot suits, and an outdoor concert in Central Park (the wrong Central Park in the wrong city, worse luck). Evidently, Murray was one of only three people in Manhattan who even acknowledged the existence of Flight of the Conchords. The other two were the president -- and only member -- of the band's fan club, an overaged groupie named Mel (Kristen Schaal), who obsessively and lustfully dogged the boys' path, usually chauffeured by her unbelievably unflappable husband; and Dave (Arj Barker), who owned the pawnshop where Jemaine and Bret's instruments were habitually in hock. The series' semi-improvised dialogue and surrealistic storylines were counterpointed by fantasy musical sequences, which gaudily spoofed the music-videos of the past three decades; these vignettes were invariably better than Flight of the Conchords' actual performances, though not by much. Though probably best appreciated by "insiders" in the music business, Flight of the Conchords was broad enough in appeal to tickle the fancy of any comedy fan, while retaining just enough deadpan subtlety to induce quiet chuckles along with the belly laughs. The series debuted June 17, 2007. - Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

After Jemaine is robbed, Bret seaks to recover his stolen property. ~ Matthew Tobey, All Movie Guide

When Sally comes back into the picture, Jemaine and Bret both fall for her, causing a rivalry between the two bandmates. ~ Matthew Tobey, All Movie Guide

This rollicking HBO offering chronicled the misadventures of Flight of the Conchords, a two-man "digi-folk" band from New Zealand. It could do nothing less -- starring in the half-hour series was Flight of the Conchords, a genuine two-man digi-folk band from New Zealand consisting of comedians Jemaine Clement and Bret McKenzie, who created the property in concert (no pun intended) with James Bobin. The two protagonists, cleverly named Jemaine and Bret, had come all the way from their mother country to hit it big in New York City. There were only two things keeping them from skyrocketing to stardom: they never seemed to get any decent bookings, and they were bloody awful. Doing rather less than his best to make household names out of Jemaine (the one with the glasses) and Bret (the one with the beard) was their agent-manager Murray (Rhys Darby), whose day job as a cultural attaché at the New Zealand Consulate's tourism division gave him plenty of free time -- if not plenty of money -- to arrange such gigs as a retro rock video in which the boys were dressed in ill-fitting cardboard robot suits, and an outdoor concert in Central Park (the wrong Central Park in the wrong city, worse luck). Evidently, Murray was one of only three people in Manhattan who even acknowledged the existence of Flight of the Conchords. The other two were the president -- and only member -- of the band's fan club, an overaged groupie named Mel (Kristen Schaal), who obsessively and lustfully dogged the boys' path, usually chauffeured by her unbelievably unflappable husband; and Dave (Arj Barker), who owned the pawnshop where Jemaine and Bret's instruments were habitually in hock. The series' semi-improvised dialogue and surrealistic storylines were counterpointed by fantasy musical sequences, which gaudily spoofed the music-video clichés of the past three decades; these vignettes were invariably better than Flight of the Conchords' actual performances, though not by much. Though probably best appreciated by "insiders" in the music business, Flight of the Conchords was broad enough in appeal to tickle the fancy of any comedy fan, while retaining just enough deadpan subtlety to induce quiet chuckles along with the belly laughs. The series debuted June 17, 2007. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

In this outrageous martial arts-comedy from New Zealand filmmaker Jason Stutter, the world's deadliest ninja must travel to the mountaintop Patio of Death and do battle with his childhood archenemy to save the love of his life. As a child the Tongan Ninja survived a plane crash by landing on an uncharted pacific island. His father eaten by fish, the young boy was trained by the locals in the art of Ninjitsu and grew to become the most dangerous ninja alive. Upon learning that the peaceful owners of a New Zealand eatery have been receiving threats from the feared Syndicate, the Tongan Ninja must work his way through a trio of formidable foes: Knife Man, Gun Man, and Hench Man before battling the dreaded Action Fighter (aka Marvin). ~ Jason Buchanan, All Movie Guide