Native American stories on screen are still few and far between. Martin Scorsese’s Killers Of The Flower Moon was a welcome addition to the canon last year, and now hot on its heels comes Fancy Dance, an assured narrative-feature debut from Native American writer-director Erica Tremblay. The common denominator between both movies is actor Lily Gladstone. But where Scorsese’s movie arguably moved the focus away from the Indigenous community as it progressed, this film puts both that community and the Oscar-nominated actor firmly in the spotlight.
It’s Tremblay’s attention to the details of the Seneca-Cayuga Reservation in Oklahoma, where Fancy Dance is set (and where she grew up), that pays dividends here. Beautifully shot by cinematographer Carolina Costa, we’re presented with an unvarnished, lived-in portrait of Native American life, including but not limited to dialogue that seamlessly switches between Cayuga and English, at times mid-conversation. The Reservation is populated by complicated characters who are doing everything they can to survive in a world that does not serve them, the epidemic of missing Indigenous women treated more as a thing that just happens rather than a cause for concern.
Credit should also go to newcomer Deroy-Olson, who expertly walks the tightrope between naive innocence and pluckiness.
One such character is Gladstone’s Jax. Frustrated by the inaction of authorities to locate her missing sister Tawi (Hauli Gray), and by Child Protective Services who decide that she’s unable to take care of her 13-year-old niece Roki (Isabel Deroy-Olson), Jax kidnaps Roki from her well-meaning but inadequate white grandparents and takes matters into her own hands. The law-enforcement chase that then ensues could have been injected with more urgency, but Tremblay still gets the most out of short bursts of intermittent tension — such as when Jax and Roki encounter an ICE agent, or when Jax finds herself in a room full of short-fused drug dealers.
Driven by a desperate need to do right by her family, Jax’s actions can sometimes appear short-sighted, but thanks to Gladstone’s riveting performance they never feel inauthentic. Credit should also go to newcomer Deroy-Olson, who expertly walks the tightrope between naive innocence and pluckiness.
Her scenes with Gladstone are a consistent highlight; though both are prone to an angry outburst, there’s a tenderness to the dynamic that frequently offsets the bleakness of the wider story. It all leads to a fitting and emotional climax that underlines the importance of familial connections and traditions, and it’s all communicated through a specific Indigenous lens. Here’s hoping Fancy Dance proves an impetus for that to become less of a rarity.
