Industry Talk: Lessons of Indigenous and anti-colonial practices
Cinema is often viewed as a form of artistic expression, yet for many it has served as a potent instrument of narrative control, shaping history to enforce systems of oppression, exploitation, and colonization.
This oft-repeated yet critical topic was at the heart of the Industry Talk: Lessons of Indigenous and anti-colonial practices – Filmmaking as a tool of narrative sovereignty, which took place on November 16.
The panel, which was moderated by Suvi West (Sámi filmmaker), featured Maasai, Palestinian, Raizal, and Cowichan, Haida filmmakers, including Sarah Mpapuluu, Mohanad Yaqubi, Ana Maria Jessie Serna, and Rosie Johnnie-Mills, who reflected on their journeys of resistance and liberatory filmmaking, debated the use of the Indigenous/non-Indigenous binary, and shared their perspectives on the ownership of stories and archives.
Prompting a deep dive into the notion of ‘Indigenous cinema’, Sámi director and writer Suvi West (Eatnameamet – Our Silent Struggle, Homecoming – Máhccan) articulated similarities between Indigenous cinema and anti-colonial and counter cinema, noting that the defining feature of the former is that it is made by an Indigenous filmmaker. She detailed that in many Indigenous film festivals and funding bodies the criteria to define a film as Indigenous are based on who creates it—whether it is directed, produced, or written by an Indigenous person—rather than on the film’s subject matter or themes. Hence, films about Indigenous communities that are made by non-Indigenous filmmakers, she explained, “have nothing to do with Indigenous cinema.” The moderator then steered the conversation toward the fraught relationship between Indigenous communities and “dominant cinema,” which has not only consistently drowned out Indigenous voices but has also been historically complicit in colonial systems. She argued that Western cinema practices have thus functioned as “a tool of oppression,” unequivocally contributing “to the othering of Indigenous communities” and advancing colonial agendas.
Rosie Johnnie-Mills, producer and artist of Cowichan, Haida heritage, known for her involvement in various notable Indigenous film projects (The Cowichan Sweater, Our Knitted Legacy), debated the “simplistic” Indigenous/non-Indigenous binary and discussed the historical disconnect between Indigenous communities and the creation of films about them, particularly with regard to North American and Turtle Island Indigenous stories. She argued that these films were often made without Indigenous involvement, thus reflecting a colonial perspective on Indigenous identities. “This set the stage for the normalization of ‘pretendianism’, where non-Indigenous actors took on Indigenous roles,” she explained, which has perpetuated colonial oppression of Indigenous peoples. Recognizing the different contexts of Canada and Palestine, Johnnie-Mills also drew a parallel between the historical oppression of Indigenous peoples in Canada—whose population has been reduced to the present five percent—and the ongoing violence against Palestinians in Gaza, their loss of life, and the rupture of their communities from their lands. She also highlighted the significance of narrative sovereignty for Indigenous communities—the right to tell and control their own stories, whether in image production or archives—as a vital tool for resisting colonial narratives and the commodification of their cultures. “We all have a voice, and we are all capable of speaking for ourselves. Speaking for other people is a practice we can let rest,” she remarked.
Ana Maria Jessie Serna (Fishing Her – Mujeres de Sal, Because I Know How Beautiful My Being Is), a filmmaker, visual anthropologist, and historian of Raizal heritage echoed this sentiment. Serna explained that for her, creating Indigenous films means having Indigenous directors, producers, and writers at the helm. If a non-Indigenous filmmaker feels compelled to take on an Indigenous story, they are urged to examine whether they are the right person for the task by asking themselves: ‘Why am I making this film?’ “If you don’t find a [deep understanding of your motivation] for doing it, then maybe you should reflect on your own [ancestors] and history. Let us narrate our own stories,” she noted. This self-reflection and accountability also informs her own approach to filmmaking as an Indigenous director, which she views as “a necessity” and “an ancestral calling.” Rejecting the framing of Indigenous communities as “marginalized,” Serna further stressed that Indigenous cinema transcends narratives of pain and struggle, centering instead on their ways of life, memory, dreams, and philosophies that are tied to their communities and anchored in respect and interconnectedness.
Expanding on Indigenous cinema and narrative sovereignty, Sarah Mpapuluu (producer of Forgotten Land) spoke of the cultural nuances she navigates as a Maasai filmmaker, which may otherwise be overlooked if filmed by outsiders. She explained that being from within the community provides her with the unique trust of its members, as they see her as “one of their own.” This deep understanding and dedication to cultural practices equip her to manage different social dynamics, such as seeking consent and engaging with elders appropriately, and to portray the Maasai way of life truthfully and respectfully, including their deep-rooted connection to the land and reverence for nature. “When non-Indigenous filmmakers tell these stories, some of these elements get lost. Every time I sit down with my grandmother, I ask her stories about her childhood, like what they were taught or what she would do when she was going to the river,” she noted. In her work, Mpapuluu also seeks to correct misconceptions, such as the oppression of Maasai women. “When you delve deeper into the culture, you find that the Maasai have a [profound] respect for women, which did get lost at some point. So for me, it is about going back to what was there before colonial history, understanding what changed, and [reclaiming] the real, authentic stories that [represent] the community, its beliefs and traditions in a way that is respectful.”
Mohanad Yaqubi, a Palestinian filmmaker (Off Frame aka Revolution Until Victory is set to screen at this year’s IDFA as part of the Guest of Honor’s Top 10), offered another perspective on the discussion of Indigenous cinema by emphasizing the role of solidarity in filmmaking and his willingness to make films “shoulder-to-shoulder” to strengthen the bonds of resistance and a sense of connection through past and present shared struggles across the world. “For me, the best films are often those made in solidarity with others. What’s the best film about Algeria? It’s The Battle of Algiers. What’s the best film about Palestine? If it’s from the West, I would say Jean-Luc Godard; if it’s from the Arab world, Tewfik Saleh. For Vietnam, I would say Santiago Álvarez from Cuba. [...]. This connects to a broader history of tricontinental struggles—South-South solidarity, anti-colonial movements, and Asia-Africa conferences. There is a history of film that connects us.”
The Talk also addressed the importance of establishing protocols when working with Indigenous peoples or filming within their communities. This necessity stems from a history of exploitation of Indigenous peoples in cinema, coupled with the ongoing struggle facing Indigenous communities to reclaim control over their narratives. In this vein, West referenced several key protocols, including Pathways and Protocols: A Filmmaker's Guide to Working with Indigenous People, Culture, and Concepts (Australia, 2009), On-Screen Protocols and Pathways: A Media Production Guide to Working with First Nations, Métis, and Inuit Communities, Cultures, Concepts, and Stories (Canada, 2019), and Allá Fierru: Guidelines for Responsible Filmmaking with Sámi Culture and People (the International Sámi Film Institute, 2021), which can aid filmmakers to better understand and adhere to frameworks designed to ensure informed consent, acknowledge cultural sensitivities, and uphold ethical responsibility.
Commenting on On-Screen Pathways and Protocols of the Indigenous Screen Office in Canada, Johnnie-Mills noted that “it’s really just about how to be human beings together.” She added, “If we are going to make films about people who are not our ancestors or part of our nation or community, we should give them a camera too. Let’s make films about each other and let the cameras capture each other’s perception.” In turn, Mpapuluu offered insight into Indigenous protocols in Kenya, observing that the country has yet to make significant strides in that regard. While there are some discussions, these conversations remain limited, with a lack of trust being one of the key hurdles. This lack of trust, she explained, is rooted in the enduring trauma of the colonial period. “There’s a lot to be done to deconstruct what happened to us. Until we have conversations about how we’ve been affected and how we can move forward, it will be difficult to [make meaningful progress] on protocols.” There is also the challenge of filmmakers being stuck in the mindset of crafting stories tailored to Western audiences, which has hindered efforts to elevate local narratives. However, Mpapuluu noted a gradual shift in perspective, with conversations emerging around the importance of prioritizing and amplifying local stories.
Delving into the topic of protocols, Yaqubi argued that they are “necessary and specific to each nation.” However, they often extend beyond local contexts. “We are constantly fighting for more representation, challenging the language within academia, and altering the canon of knowledge,” he explained. “This is essential for shaping collective consciousness. But this consciousness will not change simply because we made a film in the [Global] South. It needs to be challenged, and that challenge comes through protocols, new ways of seeing, condemning, and being politically active.” Yaqubi also discussed “a general protocol related to dealing with institutions in the West,” particularly those that hold archives. “Europe, to me, represents a [vast] archive—not their archive, but our own,” he stated, noting that the real difficulty lies in accessing these archives, often at prohibitive costs. He pointed out that these institutions frequently charge filmmakers for the use of archives from their own countries. The question then becomes, how do we establish protocols to address this? Yaqubi contemplated, noting that addressing these institutions on an individual basis does not often suffice, as some of them operate on a transnational level.