Tova O’Brien is Stuff’s Chief Political Correspondent and host of the political podcast, Tova. To hear the full press conference explored in her column, listen to the bonus podcast episode here.

ANALYSIS: Step aside “Bennifer”, “Brangelina” and “Kimye” – there’s a new celebrity super-marriage in town.

And Luxon, Peters and Seymour – or “Lupesey” as they’re soon-to-be affectionately known in Wellywood – put on one helluva show.

But there’s no mistaking which of the threesome fires up the camera flashes and feeds the frenzy like no other.

It took just 48 seconds from his first utterance for Winston Peters to attack the media, the “mathematical morons,” and steal the show.

Just 48 seconds for the kingmaker to outshine the king.

48 seconds for the slick veneer of coalition camaraderie to peel and reveal the dynamite dynamics of the country’s new leadership triad, the holy trinity of turbulence.

Christopher Luxon’s opening remarks announcing our new government lasted 8 minutes and 12 seconds, slick and on brand as ever.

David Seymour’s fell just short on length, 7 minutes and 9 seconds, they were thorough, rehearsed and delivered in his characteristic monotone drawl.

But in a mere 1 minute and 36 seconds, Peters delivered a slap-dash, unscripted, chaotic and scrappy monologue that managed to seamlessly lurch from sweet and constructive via patriotic and proud to petulant and predictable.

It was bombastic but, true to form, perfectly heralded the return of Peters to parliament.

Even after Peters had finished and Seymour was starting his turn at opening remarks, thanking his new colleagues, Peters was still making quips, “we’re back ok?!” he blurted out over Seymour’s gratitude.

It got weirder yet.

When Luxon was asked about the co-deputy arrangement, Peters interjected and corrected, “We’re not co-deputies for a start.”

Luxon attempted to explain the novel new set up, “there is one deputy prime minister at a point in time, the role is shared and broken up at the 18 month mark halfway through.”

Wrong!

Peters again: “No, we’re not sharing it either! I’m taking the first 18 months and David’s taking the second 18 months right?”

As Peters is so fond of saying, words matter, Mr Luxon, words matter. You’ll learn.

Asked if Peters agreed with Luxon that the role of deputy PM is largely ceremonial, Peters hit out with one of his most animated – and cryptic – replies of the press conference yet:

“Please don’t start off this government with your antagonistic attitude. You’ve lost!”

“You’ve lost right?!”

Who lost what or to whom was unclear but let there be no doubt, this was riveting stuff.

But wait, there’s more.

At one point Peters wrested control of the press conference from the Prime Minister-elect who was trying to retain decorum by calling on journalists one by one, using the playbook of Jacinda Ardern before him.

Peters wasn’t having it:

“Can I just say this is no longer Jessica Jessica, Tova Tova alright? We’re gonna have a balanced media from here on in so I want everybody to get a fair question, it’s just not two of you.”

Asked by Stuff if each of the men trusted each other, Luxon did not hesitate, “absolutely!”

He was too quick to get the memo from Peters which immediately followed:

“We don’t answer stupid questions,” he said, before continuing his answer to the stupid question, “We’re shaking hands here to be capable of earning trust. Please understand what real life looks like for adults.”

“We’ve shaken hands on a commitment to make this government work. Because this country desperately needs it. Make no bones about it.”

Seymour was the last of the trio who don’t answer stupid questions to answer, “I trust all ministers in our cabinet, that’s how cabinet collective responsibility works and that’s how I operate.”

Peters’ power in the coalition is stamped right through the agreements, marked by the policies he was able to secure for his party – and those of National’s he was able to kill off.

Like the main funding mechanism for National’s tax cuts, the foreign buyers’ tax. Its death leaves a $740 million fiscal hole.

The Provincial Growth fund is back (albeit repackaged as the Regional Infrastructure Fund), securing $1.2 billion over the three year term.

Then there are the red-button gains around vaccine efficacy and ending all mandates, gender in sport, co-governance and English first for government departments which sit alongside NZ First classics like keeping the Super age at 65, turbocharging the Gold Card and training 500 new cops.

All this is not to say that Seymour is playing a bit part or a supporting role in this dramedy, he too takes centre stage. Heck, the look on his face during Peters’ anti-media diatribe deserves an Oscar all of its own.

Seymour is not just the silver medal deputy prime minister, he’s also the holder and creator of a brand new role, minister for red tape. Regulations be gone!

Seymour’s shorter (by two pages) coalition agreement reads like a libertarian Christmas wish list and contains a special section not found in NZ First’s, which makes clear the changes secured to National party policy based on ACT party concerns.

Archetypal ACT sees the return of three strikes and charter schools and the introduction of electronic cards for beneficiaries restricting spending on alcohol, gambling and tobacco.

Classic gains which sit randomly alongside the reintroduction of pseudoephedrine in cold and flu meds and ‘pet bonds’ to help renters with pets.

ACT’s Treaty referendum, roundly ruled as divisive by all other parties, doesn’t go all the way to the electorate but gets a significant nudge. The party’s bill which would redefine the Treaty principles will be given the votes to go to select committee where a fierce, potentially divisive and destructive, debate will follow.

As for what National got? Well, it’s in power. With these two.

A timer has been set for three years from now, making it inevitable that – like Brangelina, Bennifer (the original) and Kimye before them – Lupesey will eventually end in divorce.

But like all super couples, this super thruple will be endlessly captivating – we’ll be talking about this moment in New Zealand politics for years, even after they separate.

And who knows? This is Wellywood, maybe they’ll get back together again.