Go Native

Derek Adams on a season of films highlighting the plight and history of the first people of the Americas

'The Canary Effect'

This writer, like most young boys in the late ’60s and ’70s, grew up on a diet of Hollywood westerns, especially those featuring Native Americans – or Indians, as they were then known. ‘Little Big Man’, ‘Stage Coach’, ‘Fort Apache’, ‘Chato’s Land’, ‘Custer of the West’, ‘Broken Arrow', ‘Soldier Blue’… It didn’t matter whether Hollywood portrayed the ‘Injuns’ as blood-thirsty, scalp-hungry savages or noble peace-loving beings; I rooted for them every time. I can only surmise that, as a young kid, I was smitten by their cool feather-decked costumes, proud manner, ace bareback riding skills and wicked woo-woo war cry. That’s the power of film for you.

But then I got to reading historian Dee Brown’s engrossing 1970 book ‘Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee’ and learned the truth about our European ancestors and their conquering of the Wild West: how, for instance, between Columbus arriving in 1498 and the Wounded Knee massacre of 1890, the Native American Indian population had been reduced from a healthy 12-15 million to a paltry 250,000. This writer considers that genocide on a humongous scale. And I’m not the only one: it’s a sentiment shared by many, including the talking heads featured in one especially fine documentary that screens as part of the forthcoming and eminently welcome Native Spirit Film & Video Festival, a season designed to promote understanding of the indigenous people of the Three Americas.

Robin Davey and Yellow Thunder Woman’s ‘The Canary Effect’ is only an hour long, but in that short time it manages to illustrate the past and present plight of the North American Indian with amazing style, verve, wit and intelligence. In fact, were the filmmakers to add 20 minutes to its running time I’d be surprised, staggered even, if it isn’t picked up by a distributor for a theatrical release. Exec-produced by former Eurythmics star Dave Stewart, ‘The Canary Effect’ uses racially derogatory cartoons from the ’40s and ’50s, harrowing montages of past tribal massacres (including an emotional split-screen scene of enforced migration cleverly melded to Lennon’s ‘Working Class Hero’) and snappy visual effects to illustrate interviews with various politically-astute talking heads, including eloquent activist Ward Churchill.

This illuminating documentary not only highlights the dastardly deeds of America’s forefathers – including the massacre at Wounded Knee – but the US government’s continuing efforts to brush tribal matters under the carpet. The statistics speak for themselves: drug abuse on some reservations is 50% higher than the national average; 25% of Native Americans are regularly under the influence of alcohol; suicide is ten times the national average; family values have been eroded by insensitive US policies, including a controversial sterilisation programme; and on the South Dakota Reservation the unemployment rate is a staggering 85%. The argument that the Native American-owned casinos are making a mint for them is countered by images of destitution on the reservations visited by the filmmakers. If the subject of Native American culture fascinates you as much as it does this writer, then I can think of no more vital document.

While nowhere near as slick a production, Chip Richie’s dramatised documentary, ‘Trail of Tears: Cherokee Legacy’, deals with another great American injustice: the forced removal of the Oklahoman Cherokees in 1838. True, it’s simplistic and very TV-like, but it’s a fair attempt at getting this tragic story across.

Of course, i t’s not only the indigenous North Americans that are represented in the festival. From Guatemala comes a promising ‘power to the people’ documentary about a lively Mayan community who voice disapproval of a huge goldmine on their doorstep. The jury for the locals in ‘Sipakapa Is Not For Sale’ is still out, but they could win yet. Likewise, ‘Green Green Water’ utilises a great soundtrack to explore a classic catch-22 case of environment-friendly hydro-electric power generation damaging the livelihoods of local folk, in this instance Manitoba’s local aboriginal community.

Of the half-dozen films I’ve seen, another big favourite is Philip Cox and Valeria Mapleman’s ‘We Are the Indians’, a fly-on-the-wall documentary that follows a group of engagingly gregarious Guarani Indians from Argentina as they go about their daily lives. It’s enlightening, warm-hearted, serious, and often very funny.

The Native Spirit festival runs Mon to Sat and features around 27 films, including Zacharias Kunuk’s Inuit drama, ‘Atanarjuat The Fast Runner’. It takes place at several venues before a final weekend push at the Riverside. Some filmmakers are due to attend Q&As and discussions – check listings for details. Also see www.nativespiritfestival.co.uk