PRESERVING HISTORY
Indigenous film draws praise
It’s appropriate that the final performance by Dave Bald Eagle is in a film that stresses the importance of storytelling and preserving history.
The American actor, who passed away last summer at the age of 97, was a man with stories. Acting may have been his least-interesting pursuit. According to his obituary, Bald Eagle was also a Lakota Chief, a champion ballroom dancer, a rodeo competitor, a race-car driver, a stunt double and a pro baseball player. He parachuted onto the beaches of Normandy during the Second World War and once danced with Marilyn Monroe.
At 95, he landed his first lead in the ultra low-budget indie film Neither Wolf Nor Dog, which opens Friday in Calgary and tells the story of a Lakota elder who enlists a white writer to help him tell the story of his people. For the cast and crew, which included Alberta-born Cree/Metis actress Roseanne Supernault, Bald Eagle was a source of quiet strength and a fountain of information and wisdom as the production travelled throughout Lakota territory in South Dakota.
The film may be based on Kent Nerburn’s popular autobiographical book of the same name, but in many ways, Bald Eagle was telling his own story. He even improvised most of his lines.
“That’s his people, that’s his land, that’s his story, that’s where he’s from,” says Supernault, who grew up in northern Alberta’s East Prairie Metis Settlement. “I get emotional thinking about it. You could just see that whole story playing out in his eyes. “
The actress plays two roles in Neither Wolf Nor Dog. Danelle and Wenonah are the twin granddaughters of Dan (Bald Eagle), who summons white writer Kent Nerburn (Christopher Sweeney) to his reserve for a special task. Having found modest success and acclaim working with native children in Minnesota and compiling a book of oral history, Nerburn has a bit of a reputation. So Dan wants him to do something similar with his own story. As the film unfolds, the writer works with the elder and his wary friend Grover (Richard Ray Whitman), who is not subtle in voicing his opinion that Nerburn is not up to the job. Eventually the three go on a road trip and Dan slowly reveals the sad details of his own life and the plight of his people.
It’s a quiet, slow-burning film that is both haunting and moving. It’s also become a bit of an indie sensation in the U.S., where it has enjoyed long runs in theatres and held its own against Hollywood blockbusters. Supernault auditioned for the film nearly eight years ago in Edmonton for Scottish director Steven Lewis Simpson. Three years ago, it was finally shot in South Dakota with a minuscule, crowd-funded budget and skeleton crew. While it’s a modest film, it tells a far-reaching story, Supernault says.
“There were 25 or 30 people who worked their asses off to get this story to the world,” she says. “Just take a moment to step back and take a look at life on this planet; to really look at this film and what it means, especially in the time we’re in with violence against women, violence against the earth, with corporatization, with indoctrination and colonization. That’s what this story is about. It’s about a slow death. And it’s about people fighting to their last breath.”
Growing up on the East Prairie Metis Settlement, Supernault was exposed to both politics and the arts early in life. Her father continues to be involved in politics in the settlement and her mother is an artist. The actress has carved out a career lending her talents to projects that reflect the past and modern realities of Indigenous life, including a five-year run in Ron E. Scott’s bleak reservation-set series Blackstone and the 2013 feature film Rhymes for Young Ghouls, which dealt with abuse in Canada’s residential school system. She also starred in the Calgary-shot, futuristic cautionary tale The Northlander by Metis filmmaker Benjamin Ross Hayden and recently wrapped Through Black Spruce, Don McKellar’s adaptation of the Joseph Boyden book that also stars Graham Greene and Tantoo Cardinal.
“It’s my life’s work to put myself in uncomfortable places and uncomfortable positions,” Supernault says. “Most people don’t understand Indigenous womanhood. And it’s not a bad thing, but I teach them. I know when I come to the Northlander, and I know when I come to Blackstone, and I know when I come to Neither Wolf Nor Dog that I have something to teach and share with the people on set. I’m very outspoken. People know that about me. And if I see something that I don’t think is being done in a good way or could be done in a more authentic way, I’ll speak out in a respectful way. Because I hope to create the changes that need to happen in Hollywood from the inside out.”
Supernault is currently in Los Angeles, where she has been auditioning for roles but also meeting with executives about projects she hopes to develop. She says the recent storm of assault and harassment allegations made against powerful Hollywood men indicates a shift in the entertainment industry that could lead to more opportunities for marginalized storytellers, be they Indigenous, female or LGBTQ.
“Now is the time to dig your heels in and stay,” she says. “We need those people to tell stories once these nefarious individuals are out of the way. That’s what’s happening right now. I’ve been in workshops and meetings in L.A. since I’ve been here. I’ve heard executives say ‘Yes, we want marginalized voices. We want unique voices.’ They are looking for that right now. It’s really an exciting time to be a marginalized person as a storyteller.”
As for Neither Wolf Nor Dog, it’s been a long journey to get it onto the screen. Nevertheless, the film’s success in the United States should be proof that filmgoers are open to these sorts of quiet, reflective films that tell genuine stories of Aboriginal people, Supernault says.
“I hope it shows financiers that they can support stories like this, that have Indigenous people in lead roles,” she says. “We’re not set pieces. We’re not props.”
Neither Wolf Nor Dog opens Friday at the Plaza.