SCA co-hosts Native American Short Films showcase


A photo of a laptop playing a screening of a Native American short film.
Nayeon Ryu | Daily Trojan

Young Indigenous children grow up with minuscule representation on the screen. If they see themselves, it is normally a Western representation of Native Americans. Over time, filmmaking regarding Natives has felt disingenuous as it tends to be created by non-Natives. 

The zealous lust and romanticization of Manifest Destiny have been detrimental to all Native American people. The filmmakers showcased at Native American Short Films Showcase are game-changing creators of thought-prowling and educationally valuable films. 

In honor of the third Annual Indigenous People’s Day in Los Angeles, the USC School of Cinematic Arts, in conjunction with L.A. Skins Fest, USC Visions and Voices, Outside the Box [Office] and Our Voices put on a festival of short films created by Indigenous filmmakers.

The showcase included short films by Indigenous filmmakers from Alaska, Hawaii, California and Colorado. 

Four movies were in the line-up, shown back to back. Each of the filmmakers spoke after the screenings and were asked questions by moderator, SCA MFA candidate and Norman Topping graduate fellow Kapena Baptista. 

“I always love to hear stories about communities lifting each other up,” Baptista said. “I think it’s really important for [Native Americans] to do that especially since we’re already so underrepresented and marginalized in a slew of different ways.” 

Spoiler warning!

“Gently, Jennifer”

The first film shown was directed by Doane Tulagaq Avery, an L.A.-based filmmaker whose films focus on stories of  queer, feminine and Indigenous characters. She has a unique eye and gift for surrealism. 

“Gently, Jennifer” is a bildungsroman about two teenage girls discussing body image while peeking at an older brother’s magazine. The film’s opening shots utilize pink coloring and room decor to make the audience aware of the time period. 

Rhetoric about sexuality between the two girls is endearing and realistic to the viewer. In an excellently pulled off plot twist, one of the girls kisses the model in the magazine and falls into the magazine’s universe. 

She is greeted by the model seductively enticing her to the tune of the ever popular ’80s hit “Safety Dance.” The girl stares in awe at the beautiful woman until she realizes she is trapped. Her friend saves her and she admits to her friend she believes she is gay. The end of the film ends on a close in of the two girls’ hands reaching toward one another. 

“Gently, Jennifer” is a wonderful combination of great music, heartwarming stories and charming characters. 

“Growing up I did not see myself at all,” Avery said. “As a Native person, as a queer person, you know … it was just lacking. If you want to bring any kind of honesty to something you want to lend something of yourself and find that vulnerable place.”

“Douk”

A shift in tone from the lighthearted 80’s romp prior, “Douk” is a heavy-hitting film about the reality of being Native during the early 1900s. 

Director Michelle Hernandez based the characters off her great grandmother and another woman she met while growing up on the Table Bluff Reservation. 

The gripping film discussed the Native American boarding schools. “Indian” boarding schools were created with the sole purpose of erasing American Indian traditions and forcing them to assimilate into mainstream culture. The schools were often founded by Christian missionaries.

The film centers on two sisters and their parents. The oldest sister understands the danger and knows what is occurring, and as a 14-year-old, she sacrifices herself at the hands of the man kidnapping her in front of her family to save her sister. 

Hernandez creates a high-stakes environment in a narrative-driven educational film. She shared with the panel that her intention behind the film was for school teachers to include it in their curriculum about Native Americans. 

“We really don’t talk about how families dealt with [Native boarding schools],” Hernandez said. “I wanted to make my family very human and I felt like [Native Americans] aren’t seen as human often. We’re seen as stoic people and I wanted to tell the story of a family having their children taken.”

“Escape” 

The Youth of the Ute Mountain Ute Tribe created the third film shown. Representing the film in the discussion was star and writer Kamea Clark. 

“Escape” uses mockumentary style interviews to frame the story. The story in question is of two misfit teens who contemplate taking their own lives in a “beautiful plan.”

Clark plays the protagonist, Rachel, who has absent parents and an abusive home life. The other protagonist, Adam, is a young man who protects her against the bullies at school. Rachel and Adam feel isolated as if they only had each other in their violent hometown of Towaoc, Colo. 

In the final chapter of the film, the two teens decide against taking their own lives. Rachel gains the confidence to stand up to her bullies and Adam leaves the town, escaping his abusive alcoholic father. 

Summing up the movie in one word would simply be: authentic. The authenticity in the film is palpable. The Youth wrote, directed and created the film and due to the realism of sharing their own stories, the film carries a heavy-handed, bona fide story. 

“It was really tough to play those roles,” Clark said. “Especially because I related so much to some of the problems in the film like drug abuse and alcohol, I had a lot of family members who dealt with that. It was coming from my own personal place.” 

“Ka Piko”

The final film of the night was “Ka Piko,” a beautiful film by Bryson Chun. The imagery used by Chun quickly engaged the audience. The cinematography is absolutely breathtaking. 

Chun premiered “Ka Piko” at the Hawaii International Film Festival in 2017, where it was nominated for “Best Short.” In 2019, “Ka Piko” was selected for inclusion in the Native Cinema Showcase by The Smithsonian’s National Museum of The American Indian.

Visual storytelling played a large part in the film. The story follows Makana, a Native Hawaiian man, who finds difficulty with his tenuous connection to his culture. After his girlfriend dies during childbirth, he sets out on a journey to complete a traditional Indigenous birthing ritual with his girlfriend’s father, with whom he does not get along.

The two men set out on a journey that takes them to Mauna Kea. On the trip, the men bond and promise to work together to create a healthy, prosperous relationship to aid them in the future. 

Additionally, the film has phenomenal acting; there is little dialogue and the two men act together excellently. The final scene has a burst of music that sends a shock down one’s spine and penetrates every ounce of emotion within. 

The final scene is filmed at Mauna Kea, a historical site on the Big Island of Hawaii. 

“Our origin story comes from [Mauna Kea] and I think it is something tangible,” Chun said. “It can be problematic to film at a place like that. We went there and the Munna, the sacred power, is palpable there. I know it’s like I’m speaking in hyperbole but you can feel a connection to it.”

Opinion from a Native Identifying journalist and human 

The film festival, in general, has been one of the most surreal moments of my life. Seeing people who represented my ancestors’ stories in an honest, authentic way is something I’ll never forget. 

One of the questions posed to the panel during the Q&A has been sitting on my soul. 

A student from the audience asked what the panelists, a group of Native filmmakers, thought about white or non-Native storytellers including Native characters in their films. 

The panelists chuckled and each one shared they think the time for that is over. There are so many Indigenous storytellers out there raring to be given the opportunity to share their films with mainstream audiences. 

I shared the questions with a close friend of my mine, a cis white male and a recent SCA graduate. 

We had an open dialogue where I came to terms with the actuality of mine and other Black and Indigenous writers and writers’ of color futures.

Regardless of the seamless perfection we want, it is unlikely we will be the first ones in the room where it happens. 

Instead, we have to continue to push our peers who are in the room to include us and to provide authenticity in their scripts and stories. My friend and I came to an understanding. 

As a white storyteller, he will continue to include Black and Indigenous characters and characters of color in his writing as long as he uses other BIPOC writers to authenticate the experiences and stories. 

Elevating Black and Indigenous writing and writing by people of color in cinema will be changing with the new Oscar qualifications requiring diversity on set, behind the scenes and on screen. Hopefully, the future will show a place where Black and Indigenous writers and writers of color are treated the same as white writers.