In 2017, New Zealand made headlines when 37-year-old Jacinda Ardern became its 40th Prime Minister. Not only was she the youngest woman in the world at the time to lead a country, but her tenure was also destined to become a rollercoaster of history-shaping events. Just a few months into her term, she announced that she was pregnant—a rarity in global politics. In fact, she became only the second female elected head of government in history to give birth while in office (and no, queens don’t count). But Ardern’s political journey was not just about firsts. It was about navigating one of the most turbulent periods in modern memory—with integrity, empathy, and a determination that set her apart on the world stage.
This gripping experience is what the new documentary, Prime Minister, directed by Lindsay Utz and Michelle Walshe, seeks to capture. Unlike most political documentaries that lean on stiff interviews and flattering soundbites, Prime Minister offers an unusually intimate, fly-on-the-wall look into Ardern’s life, both as a national leader and a new mother. It is deeply personal, yet unmistakably political—because for Ardern, those lines were always blurred.
A Leader in Uncharted Territory
Ardern’s rise was swift and unexpected. When Labour Party leader Andrew Little resigned just seven weeks before the 2017 general election, Ardern was chosen to replace him. With barely any time to prepare, she made a decision that would shape her entire political style: she would simply be herself. It was a gamble—but it paid off. Her authenticity resonated with the public in a way few politicians could replicate.
But stepping into the role of Prime Minister didn’t slow down her life. In fact, it accelerated. She and her partner, Clarke Gayford, were not married, and when she announced her pregnancy, the world reacted with a strange mixture of awe and casual acceptance—at least in New Zealand. It’s hard to imagine a pregnant, unmarried woman running for office in the U.S. without becoming the center of a culture war. And yet in New Zealand, the moment passed with little controversy.
Still, the questions Ardern faced were eye-roll-inducing. Instead of being asked about policy or vision, reporters wondered whether she could balance being a mom and a Prime Minister. The way the media treated her pregnancy as some kind of political experiment revealed just how far the world still had to go in accepting women in power.
Documenting the Personal and Political
What sets Prime Minister apart is how close it stays to Ardern—not just in her public role, but behind closed doors. Much of the footage was captured by Clarke himself. He documented their journey with a handheld camera: Jacinda reviewing policy briefs while lying in bed, adjusting to motherhood, and expressing fears of inadequacy. She talks openly about her “impostor syndrome” and wonders out loud whether she’s doing enough—or doing it right.
These moments aren’t polished. They aren’t designed to impress. But that’s what makes them powerful. Ardern’s vulnerability, captured in grainy late-night video and off-the-cuff voice recordings, shows the human side of leadership. She wasn’t pretending to have it all together—she was showing up every day, trying to carve a path no one had walked before.
Crises That Defined a Nation
If Ardern had hoped for a relatively quiet first term, fate had other plans.
In March 2019, a white supremacist gunman opened fire at two mosques in Christchurch, killing 51 people. It was one of the darkest days in New Zealand’s history. Ardern’s response was immediate and powerful. She didn’t mince words. Her speeches were filled with phrases like “strongest possible condemnation” and “we utterly reject and condemn…” She spoke on behalf of a grieving nation and emphasized that the victims—many of them immigrants and refugees—had chosen New Zealand as their home. That trust had been shattered, and the country needed to respond with unity and strength.
Ardern’s actions matched her rhetoric. Within days, her government introduced sweeping gun control legislation, banning most semi-automatic weapons. A buy-back program was launched, and thousands of New Zealanders voluntarily turned in their firearms. It was a response so swift and decisive that it stunned observers across the globe, especially in the United States, where even school shootings fail to budge lawmakers.
When Ardern stood in front of the world and declared, “They do not have a voice. We are their voice,” it wasn’t just political theater. It was a reminder of what leadership can look like when it’s rooted in empathy, not ego.
Then Came COVID-19
Just as New Zealand began to heal, the world was rocked by the COVID-19 pandemic. For many world leaders, it was a time of panic, denial, or dysfunction. But Ardern, ever the realist, moved quickly. She closed New Zealand’s borders and implemented strict lockdowns. These decisions weren’t always popular, especially among business leaders and travelers, but they were effective. New Zealand kept its infection and death rates significantly lower than many other countries.
The documentary remains close to Ardern throughout this period. We don’t get many outside voices—no political opponents, no panel of experts, no journalists dissecting her moves. It’s just Ardern, navigating the fallout of a global crisis with the weight of an entire nation on her shoulders. For some, this might feel unbalanced. But the filmmakers aren’t interested in crafting a comprehensive political analysis. They’re showing us what it’s like to lead during a moment when the world feels like it’s falling apart.
A War of Words and Images
Despite her accolades and international praise, Ardern’s leadership wasn’t without controversy. As the pandemic wore on, opposition grew louder. Conspiracy theories spread like wildfire, and extremist rhetoric began to infect the public discourse. In 2022, Ardern’s government faced a protest unlike anything New Zealand had seen before. Protesters camped out on Parliament grounds, many waving American flags and parroting phrases pulled from QAnon message boards. It felt surreal—like a slice of U.S. political chaos had landed in the middle of Wellington.
One protester dismissed Ardern as “some girl in a skirt on a power trip.” Misogyny, always simmering beneath the surface, began to rise again. Leading a country while being a mother, a woman, and a progressive icon became a triple-edged sword. Ardern’s approval ratings took a hit, and the stress of governing through chaos began to show.
Two Voices, One Story
The documentary includes two distinct audio tracks. One is Ardern speaking specifically for the film. The other comes from an Oral History Project recorded for the Alexander Turnbull Library. The difference in audio quality makes it clear which is which—but it can be a bit confusing to follow. Still, both voices offer insights into how Ardern sees her time in office: not as a story of perfection, but of perseverance.
She doesn’t try to paint herself as infallible. Instead, we see a woman constantly reassessing, constantly learning. Leadership, for her, is less about commanding a room and more about navigating the messy, uncomfortable process of governing during unprecedented times.
When the Personal Becomes the Political
Perhaps the most fascinating element of Prime Minister is how it refuses to separate Ardern’s private life from her public role. We see Clarke playing the role of documentarian, yes—but also of partner and father. Their daughter is occasionally glimpsed, not in staged photo ops, but in quiet, mundane moments that make Ardern’s job seem both impossibly hard and totally normal. This isn’t a superhero story. It’s the story of a woman who happened to be in charge during some of the most defining events of our generation.
It’s also a reminder of how absurd political coverage can be. In one scene, during her visit to the United Nations in 2017, Ardern is repeatedly asked the same question by reporters: “Do you like President Trump?” Not about policy or diplomacy—just, “Do you like him?” It’s schoolyard stuff masquerading as journalism. Ardern, visibly annoyed, brushes off the question as irrelevant. But they keep asking. This, too, is leadership in the 21st century—managing not just crises, but the absurdity of media expectations.
A Cautionary Tale from History
In one of her lectures to Harvard students, Ardern quotes a famous historical exchange. After the U.S. Constitutional Convention in 1787, Benjamin Franklin was asked whether the new government would be a republic or a monarchy. “A republic, if you can keep it,” he replied. Ardern uses this quote as a warning. Democracy is fragile. Stability is hard to maintain. Her time in office proved that in vivid, often painful detail.
She didn’t just talk about these truths—she lived them. And that’s what Prime Minister captures so well. This is not a documentary of hindsight or nostalgic reflection. It’s recent history, still raw and unresolved.
The Verdict: A New Kind of Political Film
Prime Minister may frustrate viewers who want more traditional analysis, more expert commentary, or a more balanced panel of perspectives. But that’s not the point. This is not a film about Jacinda Ardern the icon, or even the politician. It’s about Jacinda Ardern the person. A mother. A partner. A leader who walked into the fire and kept walking.
In telling her own story, Ardern invites us to consider what leadership looks like in the 21st century. It’s not always about being the loudest voice in the room. Sometimes, it’s about listening. Sometimes, it’s about saying “I don’t know” and figuring it out as you go.
Prime Minister is, in many ways, a quiet film about an unquiet time. But its impact is profound—just like the woman at its center.
