There was no real escape from the dystopia that Terry Gilliam depicted in his excellent film, Brazil.

In the film’s world, nothing could be done without the correctly numbered bureaucratic form. But procuring the right form was almost impossible. Even officials enforcing compliance with the required forms needed their own correct forms.

The heroic Harry Tuttle had little use for forms. He left the stifling bureaucracy, determined to fix air conditioning systems when they needed to be fixed – forms be damned.

It didn’t end well for him, or for anyone. His world was too far gone.

Ours might be too.

New Zealand is also a place where nothing can be done without the proper form. And if the proper form does not exist, the thing simply cannot be done.

Last week, Christchurch hot-sauce makers SpicyBoys explained their little slice of Kiwi dystopia on LinkedIn.

They’ve started making a Chilli Gin to go along with their hot sauces. They have been able to get special licences to sell their gin at a couple of local farmers markets. But they also want to sell it online.

The Sale and Supply of Alcohol Act did not envisage such a thing for a business like theirs. And so, it cannot be done.

Selling alcohol as a manufacturer from your premises is allowed under section 32(1)(d) – if your principal business is the manufacture of alcohol. But their principal business is hot sauce.

Selling remotely is possible under section 32(1)(c) if at least 85% of your income comes from the remote sale of alcohol. But again, their principal business is hot sauce.

In principle, they could set up a separate gin-only business.

But remote sales provisions are a subset of off-licence rules, which bring in premises-location requirements. Christchurch’s Local Alcohol Policy (LAP) forbids new off-licences in their area.

The LAP allows an exemption if the primary purpose of the business is not the sale and supply of alcohol. But a licence under either 32(1)(c) or (d) requires that the main business is alcohol.

I explained the problem at Select Committee last week, where revisions to the Sale and Supply of Alcohol Act were being considered.

It was recess week. The room was empty, barring stenographers; MPs attended by Zoom. Without people in the room, it was hard to tell who, if any, cared.

The correct form for escaping dystopia does not exist.