We here at WIFT Central - and like all of you - know the true value of a mentor.
So when filmmaker and Wiftie Zoe McIntosh shared with us this incredible tribute to her own mentor, Costa Botes, we begged her to allow us to share it with you all.
Costa Botes is fighting prostate cancer, his own journey an inspiration in itself.
He spoke to The Post last year, telling them "cancer did not need to equal misery".
“When you get cancer all sorts of cliched apparitions dance in front of your eyes... But there is a feeling of joy. And every frickin’ day, every time the sun shines, every time you’re outside on your bike. You just feel really good.
“It'll get me, it'll get me in the end, and I'm not looking forward to that... It's just reality, you’ve got to deal with what comes and try and make the best of it.”
Zoe wrote this tribute for Costa, and in the hope it may inspire us all to mentor someone.
On Mentorship, and the Gift of Costa Botes.
Oct 29, 2025
Who teaches you to make a film when you have nothing, no money, no gear, no clue?
These days you can summon the ghost of any genius with a few keystrokes.“ChatGPT, act like James Cameron and tell me how to write better characters.” Done.“Be Robert McKee and fix my third act.” Easy.
It’s incredible and, well, a bit tragic. Because for all the convenience, something vital has gone missing: the messy, maddening, magnificent experience of real mentorship.
A real mentor doesn’t give you bullet-point wisdom or curated cheesy quotes. They roll up their sleeves, tell you when your work needs pushing, and remind you that art, and life, are long games. They don’t just make your work better. They make you better.
I was lucky. I found one early. Costa Botes.
If you’re in the New Zealand film world, you might already know the name. He’s the guy who co-directed Forgotten Silver with Peter Jackson. The one-man army behind Angie, Candyman, Day time tiger, The Last Dogs of Winter. A Swiss army knife of a fella; he writes, shoots, edits, produces, teaches, mentors, and has been living with cancer for years now.
I was twenty-two, broke, and living in a damp Wellington flat where rice was both dinner and décor. At a depressing documentary hui, out of sheer desperation and delusion, I pitched my first documentary idea to filmmaker Costa Botes. I expected a polite brush-off. Instead, he said, “I’ll shoot it. Let’s just go make it.”
No funding applications. No contracts. No catch. That offhand “yes” changed everything.
That film became Lost in Wonderland, which went on to screen at international festivals, won Best Documentary at the Qantas Film and Television Awards, and sold to SBS Australia. But that wasn’t the real win. It was what Costa taught me by example: sometimes you just gotta get on with it and make the damn thing!
That was the first of many lessons from Costa.
Costa gives his time generously, quietly, without agenda. He doesn’t chase credit; he’s allergic to self-promotion. He’s the guy at the back of the screening checking sound levels while everyone else basks in applause. Motivated by people and, always, by story.
We made a string of other low budget films together and wrote endless scripts too. He was always there, always honest, (sometimes brutally so lol). But he never let me lose sight of my vision. He’d say, “You’ve got half a film here. The other half’s still hiding. You gotta dig deeper.” Or, “Write what you know, Zo.”
Once, when I finally received NZFC funding for a short film, I could no longer see the truth in the script. I called him crying and creatively stuck. In that moment he could have pushed me to do it anyway. Instead, he said, “Send me how you see it and I’ll try re write it”. He encouraged me to take risks (I ended up casting a drug-addict, a kid who had never acted, and a bunch of caravan dwelling misfits!!). Dangerous? Yes. But having someone believe in me, before I did, was everything.
One of my favourite things in the world is calling Costa to spitball ideas. We spiral into a frenzy of possibility. No politeness, no filtering, just pure story. Two brains sparking until the phone practically smokes. He’s the story king!
Costa’s influence stretches far beyond me. As a much loved script writing tutor, for many years, at Massey University, he told students: “If you’re good enough, have talent, persevere and work hard, you have every chance.”. You can ask chat GPT, how to make a film but you can’t replicate a film tutor standing beside you while you fail, pick yourself up, and try again. The energy he brings is unstoppable in the pursuit of a great film.
His own films orbit underdogs, outsiders, and obsession. He blurs documentary and fiction, pokes the audience where it hurts, and never underestimates them. There’s empathy but no sentimentality, hope even when the story is brutal. Remarkably, he’s made most of them on his own and often self-funded.
Relentless doesn’t begin to cover it. Now, in hospice and denied further medication, Costa has built an editing suite beside his bed. He’s determined to finish one last film before he dies. If that’s not inspiring, what is?!
Costa and I are essentially opposites, and maybe that’s why it’s worked over all these years. He once called himself a “pessimist” and me a “painful optimist,” which always made me laugh. Quietly though, he’s one of the most hopeful people I know. He believes in scripts, and in people, before they even exist. Seeing him face prostate cancer has been both hard and extraordinary. He’s handled it with humour, honesty and unflinching grit. On a recent call, I laughed through tears and said, “How funny, in the face of this you’ve become the “optimist.” The man who once teased me for being a “painful optimist” had inherited the title.
What I’ve learned is that mentorship isn’t a one-off transaction, it’s a ripple effect. His generosity has since inspired me to mentor other emerging filmmakers. This year alone I’ve mentored five filmmakers. Supporting emerging talent isn’t a one-way street either. I take huge inspiration from their unbridled enthusiasm and ambition.
In this industry, we tend to celebrate directors who win awards, producers who land the next big Netflix deal. But rarely do we pause to acknowledge the dogged people behind them, the mentors, collaborators and filmmakers who give their time and expertise to emerging talent. Costa Botes is one of those people.
Creativity isn’t instant. Growth isn’t instant. Real mentorship is slow, inconvenient and human. Costa taught me to trust my gut, make bold films, and stay the course. And only just recently he showed me optimism isn’t actually a personality trait; it’s a choice.
In a world of AI shortcuts and synthetic voices, that kind of mentorship is radical. Because no algorithm can replace someone, like Costa, who looks you in the eye and says:
“Let’s just go make it.”