HBO’S “BURY MY HEART AT WOUNDED KNEE”: THE END OF THE HOLLYWOOD TRAIL
In the wake of HBO’s disappointing and history-deranging adaptation of Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee, American Indian actors, writers, aspiring directors and producers arrive at the end of the trail for their decades-long struggle to gain a footing in Hollywood:our cause is lost in the American film and television industry.
It is now time for us to abandon our stake in the Hollywood camp, this distressed outpost, now time for us to gather on the open beach at Santa Monica and there bury in the sand our hopes for participation and inclusion, then head out of town with our heads held a high as we can hold them. We will be better off re-locating our work
back to the reservations, to the tribal communities and scattered remnants of land allotments that were given to us in treaties with the United States government over a hundred years ago in the epic tragedy which Dee Brown described so vividly and thoroughly in his iconic history. And there, hopefully safe from the misbegotten creative and economic forces of the industry, we must knuckle down and produce our own films, our own television dramas, write our own accounts of our history, and present them in images that we create and that we will control.
We have an audience of two million American Indians waiting.
With Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee, the power brokers of the industry have demonstrated that their entertainment values and demands prevail over anything we say or do, write or create, that our history is for them to tell, to fictionalize, to distort with false love stories and character portrayals, and to trivialize all that is complex and tragic. HBO did not ask for or seek the help and guidance of any of the experienced American Indian creative professionals who might have helped steer them away from this debacle. Yes, Indian actors played the Indians, but that was all.
With breathtaking arrogance, Bury My Heart’s narrative forcibly inducts American Indians into the brotherhood of savagery as a way of universalizing them and making them like all other people.Genocide is dramatized as just as much the result of the mean-spirited and physically cruel behaviour of American Indians, who were fighting for their very survival, as it was of the inhumanity of the American armies. The last shreds of Indian nobility are eliminated once and for all.
A feature article on the making of Bury My Heart titled “The Last Stand” in the May 27 Los Angeles Times gives a brief, perplexing account of how Hollywood came to the view that American Indians can now be justly and fairly seen as co-agents of their own destruction.As a two-hour condensation of the book, “The film didn’t have time to dwell on the spiritual, Earth-friendly image of Native Americans,”says the article’s author, Graham Fuller. “Nor does it offer apolitically correct perspective,” he adds. The Sioux, we’re told,were “as rapacious as their white conquerers.”
This view is scaldingly laid out with the portrayal of Sitting Bull as a baby killer, as a coward who hid in his tipi at the height of the Battle of Little Bighorn, and as a greedy buffoon who lusts for the white man’s money and approval.
The scriptwriter, Daniel Giat, confidently tells The Times, “My primary objective was to fully dimensionalize these people. Sitting Bull was vain. He was desperate to hold onto the esteem of his people and win the esteem of the whites. But I think in depicting his desperation and the measures he took in acting on it, it makes it all the more sad and tragic, and I think we identify with him all the more for it.”
To complete this grim, determined view, the film presents every Indian cliché imaginable in graphic, full-bodied images without context or explanation: brutal scalpings; stoic, saddened faces of Indian elders; sick, dying babies; herds of wild horses surging across open prairies; vast armies of Indian warriors mounted along high vistas; war ponies being ceremonially painted; desperate ghost dancers, and heartless Indian agents and schoolteachers. We’ve seen them all far too many times. And to all of this, unbelievably, the article tells us, “The passel of Lakota and other Indian consultants hired for the project obviously didn’t object too strenuously.” No credible American Indian historians, scholars or film makers are quoted in The Times article. I was astonished to see the names of two highly respected scholars and historians listed in the film’s credit crawl and was grateful that this embarrassment for them would not be seen by many.
As students in the early 1970s, members of my generation of American Indians carried paperback copies of Bury My Heart in our backpacks as talismans of hope. Thirty-seven years later, we must sadly accept that HBO, the avatar of original television programming and creative innovation, has failed to deliver a truthful, even recognizable telling of Dee Brown’s history. The more cynical among us back then forecast that this would happen, and, alas….
By letting go of our Hollywood dreams, we American Indians can take control of our stories and images and establish creative sovereignty. Affordable digital cameras and production equipment and scripts written by the Indian writers whom Hollywood rejected and left blowing in the wind will help us to become free and independent tellers our our own stories. The failure of Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee urgently tells us that we must, must do this.
Aho, thank you.
Hanay Geiogamah
Professor of Theater, UCLA School of Theater, Film and Television
Director, UCLA American Indian Studies Center
Comment by Arlene Bowman, writing from Canada on June 29th, 2007 at 11:14 pm:
June 29, 07
STATE OF THE INDEPENDENT FILMMAKER IN NORTH AMERICA FROM A DINE’ FEMALE FILMMAKER’S P.O.V
As far as instinct tells me North America does not even know that Indian people exist as everyday contemporary peoples, which is an understatement. If not that, then the public reacts misinformed. According to an article written in My Two Beads Worth news website/June 6, 2007, an upbeat anchor and weather forecaster from WTVK’s, The Daily Buzz on May 31, 07, made fun of the pipe and ceremonies of First Nations people on the air. Instead to present a factual report about American Indian peoples who incorporate American Indian culture/religion within the American prison systems, Indian people were put down. Why are First Nations denigrated? I rarely read articles in film/television magazines written by First Nations writers or by non First nations writers about First Nations cinema/television. When a feature film is released like the “Apocalypto,” it reminds the public about Indian people. An important characteristic that separates us from the rest is: we were/are the first peoples who lived in the Americas before the colonists arrived. “We are not all immigrants,” propaganda, as American mainstream television news proclaims. Whenever television polls people of color for data information, we usually are not included in the survey and if we are included, we are called “others.” For many reasons, ever since the colonialists arrived, the public especially the immigrants who came to live here did not receive the true histories about the first peoples throughout the Americas. Sometimes from what I read, view on television and on the movie screen, the information about us continues to be distorted, exaggerated, manipulated, censored, deleted or we are ignored on purpose by the print media, film and television. I thought when I attended University of California/Los Angeles film school in the early 80’s, our advancement in film/television might improve, but that was a false notion.
With each released feature film made for television or released feature film about Indian people such as “Apocalypto” in December 06 and most recently “Bury my Heart at Wounded Knee” produced by HBO, I constantly wondered: what is the status of the First Nations filmmakers in North America? How many Indian people constantly make a living in film/television and other questions? The public is bombarded by the television news, reality shows, feature films, documentaries and many other programs. In 2007 American television once in a while deals with Indian issues. Canadian television, more than the Americans airs First Nations’ issues plus more dramas and Aboriginal Peoples Television Network.
Hanay Geigamah lamented HBO’s production of “Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee,” but some Indian filmmakers and Indian people in the business already knew this dilemma existed. At least, he admitted this at long last in a published essay. He suggested the only way out of this is to produce a film/video yourself: write it and the whole nine yards. I accept this, but how many Indian people become experts to produce a film or video, which is apart of the delimma, the lack of skilled labor such as to be a producer, director, set dresser, property master, script supervisor, sound recordist, boom operator, sound editor, sound mixer, location scout and manager, editor, screenplay writer, teleplay writer and the other jobs. For me, the most important element within this is screenplay and teleplay writing. Other people might disagree, but I think it is. Second, is producing: raising the funds and organizing the production. For example if more Indian people wrote more feature screenplays, initiated the bible; also, wrote the television dramatic episodes about contemporary Indian women; perhaps, more stories about everyday modern Indian women might evolve. I do not know how the Indian women actors survive these days in Los Angeles or New York because from my observation of the films and television shows being made: not much of contemporary dramas that feature Indian women lead roles. That would be great, if it could happen now.
Through making the Graffiti drama, my latest mini dv project, I did not meet many Indian people who excelled at the above mentioned jobs especially the digital sound editor, sound mixer, but they are needed. How does a person learn these jobs? To self-teach, attend universities or trade schools, which teach the jobs, but then to find these jobs in the real world is another matter. Just to be able to write a descent screenplay is a long road. It was for me. It did not happen over night. Maybe for some people it happens quickly, but personally I think it is never too late for writing.
I finished and obtained my MFA in filmmaking from UCLA in 86, a university that taught filmmaking, undergraduate and graduate levels. I loved attending UCLA to learn filmmaking: the best years of my life. Of course the program was not geared for the commercial film/television business, the real reality of film and television, but that was okay. What I received from it were the friends and colleagues I am able to talk with and even to this day ask for suggestions/advice on video/crew production problems, whatever topic is important to talk over. It is cool. Generally life after film school is a closed and an exclusive society. Once in a while I have had strokes of luck to meet influential people who are experts in their film/television field and generous with their knowledge. However, those kind of positive people in film/television are rare, far/few and in between to find/meet. Although I wished it, I did not succeed to find crew work in film or television or in commercials like my friend and other UCLA students. For example, my friend was a location scout and production manager in commercials. He chose to work in commercials because they were shorter than features. My friend returned tired from work around 3:00 a.m. sometimes. By 6:00 a.m. he rose to begin another 12-14 hour day. I knew it was not the kind of work he wanted to continously expose his brain and body to the rest of his life. First of all it was not his idea. The production belonged to the advertiser. The work was very stressful. His bosses sometimes wanted miracles from him. All he dreamed was to create his own documentary since he attended UCLA film school like me. Basically he was a frustrated filmmaker who lived in LA and had to earn a living to pay the bills. He lived a better than average life economically, actually better than myself because I starved a lot in LA. The producer position I had at Columbia Pictures from 88-89 was the best job. My friend was not poor by any means, but creatively he was empty and trapped. Eventually he remedied the situation.
Sporatically I made films and videos since 86. The principal films/videos are: Navajo Talking Picture (86), Song Journey (94), Women and Men are Good Dancers (94), North and South (02), Wall to Wall Graffiti (04) and presently The Graffiti (07). Although the droughts were long, I never gave up. The 38 min. mini dv drama, “The Graffiti” was made through a grant. I wrote the story, which was based a lot upon my life. Lots of my projects are based a lot upon my life. In this production I wore many hats. I wrote the drama, proposal and the budget. In the beginning I undervalued some jobs in the dramatic production such as continuity, the script supervisor’s job, but quickly I saw the job’s worth. Always I made sure to match the light set up, clothing and everything else as best I could. From this production I learned even more about how to deal with various personalties of the actors and crew: the prima donnas and how to use improvisation with actors, which I liked a great deal. By being the big cheese, I learned even more about the business side: how to find/obtain props like an undercover police car, to negotiate with the actors’ union/hire union actors in a non-union production, shoot querilla style on Vancouver streets without a permit, while Vancouver police cruised by wondering how I obtained an undercover police car. I coordinated six actors and six crew to meet for a day shoot at a secondary school, the largest gathering of actors/crew in the Graffiti. Total shoot days were 16 interspersed throughout February-August 05. I learned how important it is to clarify the employment set up for actors/crew I hired. I constantly always organized, set up, arranged people’s schedules until I did not need to anymore; for example, I finished the final post recordings for two voice overs a month ago.
While in film school I concentrated upon completion of the Navajo Talking Picture, which was my thesis. At the same time I was encouraged to take screenplay writing classes at UCLA, which I was very naive about in the beginnning. The first scripts were not great. One teacher said I wrote too talky, which was harsh criticism to accept. I reread those scripts. Yes, the dialogue sounded too wordy and long. After film school, the dream to write and produce a drama emerged. I viewed many feature films since I was young. I took screenplay writing workshops on and off throughout my life. The most inspirational screenplay writing workshop happened at Banff Center for the Arts at Banff, Alberta, March and December 03. Screenplay writing is a skill. Some people have this knack to write dialogue, but for me it took many years to change. Since film/video is a visual medium, it storytells through pictures. I remembererd a screenplay writers’ suggestion: “Show it. Don’t tell it.” I wrote the Graffiti with that in mind. After I finished the Banff Centre television screenwriting workshop, I rewrote the Graffiti, which had many rewrites.
Actor/dance classes I always kept up throughout my life. These classes used improvisation to create the final performance. Dance classes from the dance department and actor classes from the theater arts department at UCLA started the path. Dance classes started earlier when I was fourteen. Once at UCLA modern dance class the instructor asked us to make up a scene within 2-3 minutes. I worked fast with the other women to create the dance. At the end of class within a an half hour, we performed a dance. After UCLA, through the American Indian Registry in Los Angeles, I attended actor workshops with Mark Tillerman, Lynn Patrick and Gary Farmer as instructors: cold readings and scene study workshops. Closely I followed Lynn Patrick’s cold reading directions for the “Dark Wind” audition. Improvisation brings out the naturalness of actors when they move and speak their scenes. As I shot scenes for the Graffiti with dialogue, I learned actors could improvise lines which lead up to the scripted lines. Curtis Anekew, a Cree actor who lives in Vancouver, BC inspired me for that. Whenever he worked on scenes with the actors, he asked them to improvise their dialogue before they recited the written script. Despite not being a success to obtain film/television jobs to survive like my friend who succeeded as a production manager in commercials, I succeeded in other ways. I learned how to be an actor in scenes. I met other Indian actors. I found a niche: developed myself as an independent First Nations filmmaker in United States and Canada. These experiences learned from dance and actor workshops, I applied to use with the actors in The Graffiti.
Imagine what other Indian filmmakers experienced, their histories to make their films or videos or the Indian actors such as Jay Silverheels who played the character Tonto from the original television series “Lone Ranger.” He initiated one of the first Indian actors’ workshops in Los Angeles in the mid-seventies. Imagine what our ancestors: mothers/fathers/sisters/brothers/grandmothers/grandfathers experienced in the early days to continue to survive in North America. Or else we would not be here alive today. Digital technologies such as editing software final cut pro, final cut studio and other filmmaking softwares have brought the dream closer/cheaper for the filmmaker to make films/videos. I hear talk from Indian people in the media from the American side to start a television cable network, which is a huge endeavor. That is the answer, my solution among other solutions, to acquire the relevant parts and manage them, which will not happen overnight: find the writers to write the stories, producers to raise the funds/produce the stories, legal counsel, raise money and hire reliable/trustworthy personnel to depend on who know their stuff, the most important elements to consider, which is a lot of work. The talent pool is more minute in the United States than Canada, but it exists. Competition affects the public and a lot of my own kind, the First Nations filmmakers and First Nations people in the film/television business because filmmaking is competitive. Competition creates hierarchies, which exist in both groups. First Nations filmmaking remains an ego maniac art, but I doubt if other First Nations in the film/television business look at it that way. I do not think there are “secrets” about the business as I have been told from other filmmakers. I never thought so in the first place because eventally a person in the film/television business learns how a certain part of the business gets done. How many generations from now will fulfill the dream to make a steady living from it? Indian people remain a open punching bag among people to use. The mottos are to keep people uneducated or deny the real histories. Most of world seems to prefer the tradish First Nations. I have heard that tradition changes. I think it does. That is why I feel we stay stuck in a romanticism. The fact is we are similar on one hand: we are First Nations throughout the Americas, yet, we are completely different from each other: specific in that we belong to a particular Nation with language/clans…or we grew up in the city or the very rural country, all kinds. All of us were not lucky enough to be taught our language and culture, but that does not mean that group is invalid. For example, Esther Belin is a Dine’ writer was raised in Los Angeles, California. She writes about her Dine’ experiences from a very traditional/contemporary Dine’ style. She knows more about the Dine’ culture than me. Advancement to emerge among ourselves in film/television seems to take a million years. It does not have to be, but it is. We stop our own advancement because we segregate from each other. Diversity is not accepted among various Indian peoples. Although some redneck ways change, it still is not enough, despite the movements initiated by women, people of color, gay people in the sixties and seventies who fought for the underdog. When I lived in LA I obtained a meeting with Stan Margulies who produced the television mini-series, “Roots.”I questioned him about First Nations filmmakers and the movie industry in LA. He recommended: let your work speak for yourself. It is a positive philosophy that works.
Comment by Mary Goose, writing from United States on August 6th, 2007 at 11:24 am:
The comment that was made “Yes, Indian actors played the Indians, but that was all.” lamenting the fact that there was no native american activity behind the camera lens is right on. Where were the native americans as advisors, crew….anything behind the lens that would have contributed to the movie being seen through the native eye. Without that native contribution…I say what do you have…nothing…the heart & soul of the story is empty. A flat movie. Much like the image it conjures up for me…cardboard indian actor cutouts held up by non-native people pretending that this is a native story. Very much echoing the image of the old false western store fronts in the backlots of hollywood.