'Night Raiders' Imagines a Horrific Dystopian Future. Its Inspiration Is America's Real Past.

Photo credit: Elaine Chung
Photo credit: Elaine Chung
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It would be difficult not to think of Indigenous boarding school history and its legacy of trauma when viewing Night Raiders, an extremely timely new film from Cree/Metis writer-director Danis Goulet. In fact, I would posit that the point is to think about it. To the Indigenous population at large, and to those who’ve been following the news over the past year or so, Night Raiders is a brutal reminder of colonialism’s many tragedies—namely, the discovery of thousands of Indigenous children buried in makeshift graveyards all over the U.S. and Canada, oftentimes far from their homelands, and the ongoing mystery of what’s behind these mass boarding school burial sites. In her film, Goulet speaks to the zeitgeist through a dystopian take on the recent excavation, both literal and figurative, and the long history of losing Indigenous children to “progress.” While taking on this topic is an admirable endeavor, it’s not an easy story to tell.

Goulet’s film adds to the emerging cinematic genre of Indigenous futurism, which already exists as a popular art movement in Indigenous painting and visual arts. Indigenous futurism reimagines Indigenous culture in alternative, speculative futures, often in the context of science fiction. Mi’kmaq filmmaker Jeff Barnaby’s recent Indigenous zombie film, Blood Quantum, arguably kicked off this genre in 2019. Blood Quantum is itself also a timely take, but on the current pandemic era. Both Indigenous filmmakers speak to concepts of cultural survival and preservation. Films like Barnaby’s and Goulet’s re-frame Indigenous culture and history while considering new possibilities of existence in these polarizing times, where Trump supporters lay waste to the Capitol building on television and scores of QAnon believers wait for JFK to arise from Dealey Plaza in Dallas. Indigenous people observe it all and try to figure out how to survive in all this mess, just as we always have.

The new Indigenous dystopian cinematic movement, represented by films like Night Raiders and Blood Quantum, is an exciting commentary on current and future Indigenous existence. Where Barnaby looks at whether Indigenous people would take in and take care of white people in an era filled with horrific zombies and pandemic sickness, Goulet looks at how the Indigenous might learn from our past experiences with colonialism and move forward in a new, more informed way. She uses the platform of Indigenous futurism to tell a tale of how government atrocities like the boarding school era could happen again, and how Indigenous people might recognize this and fight back, having learned from the past.

In Night Raiders, it’s 2043, and Blackfoot/Sami actor Elle-Maija Tailfeathers plays Niska, a Cree woman who knows how to live off the land. Niska is forever on the run from the ever-present drones sent by the tyrannical dystopian government occupying Cree country, which fly around looking to catch lawbreakers (basically, people it cannot control). Minors must be registered with the government, while propaganda seen on flat screens throughout the city encourages citizens to send their children to the federal academy, with promises of a good education. Niska knows this means brainwashing, and strives to protect her daydreaming daughter, Waseese (played by sweet-natured Brooklyn Letexier-Hart). Niska and Waseese do their best to avoid the outside world, running as long as they can before Waseese, who has injured herself in an animal trap, can no longer run. Without access to medicine for her ailing daughter, Niska gives her up to “Jingoes,” a word the Cree have given the government soldiers. It's at this point that Niska is dealt many hard obstacles to overcome. How does she learn to live without her daughter? Is she willing to truly give up Waseese to the academy, where she may live a better life, but at what cost? Later, when Niska connects with a larger band of Cree people, is she willing to take on the mantle of what the Cree activists and elders proclaim her to be from a prophecy: the “Guardian”?

Niska only has one thing in mind: how to reconnect with her daughter Waseese, who is subjected daily to learning a new way of life in the academy, where she must pledge the morning allegiance: “one country, one language, one flag.” Just how much Niska decides to play along with the prophecy is the tension that propels the film forward. Suffice to say, Niska is a survivor and plays along, so long as she gets what she needs.

Maori actor Alex Tarrant is a standout as Leo, an Indigenous activist a long way from home. When Niska is hesitant to assist her fellow Cree activists in the plan to move Cree children north to the safe zone, he questions her cultural authenticity: “Have you ever lived with your own people?” She responds, “Have you?”, fully recognizing the irony of a Maori man from the other side of the world asking for her Cree credentials. This particular scene is full of electricity; because the North American Indigenous/Maori alliance is strong, the scene calls for no particular exposition, as Indigenous people understand this alliance already. One need look no further than the credits of the film, where Maori creative force Taika Waititi is listed as executive producer, to understand this. Later in the film, Leo employs the Haka, a powerful Maori warrior ceremonial dance, against a drone, displaying that not only does he understand his own culture, but he’s willing to use it to help others. Of note, the film lists in its credits a Maori cultural/language advisor.

Night Raiders, at its essence, is a plot-driven film focused on creating an Indigenous futurism story about boarding school trauma and colonialism. The film wants viewers to contemplate and talk about these traumatic events, and in that sense, it succeeds. Where it sometimes fails to live up to expectations is in its production value. When not considering the plot and how the film moves the Indigenous narrative forward, it occasionally reminds of a low budget movie: take, for example, its reliance on drones as a cost-effective CGI enemy. There is the occasional clunky dialogue exchange, such as when Niska and Waseese enter an abandoned house for shelter, and Waseese asks, “Who lives here?” Niska replies, “The city went dark after the war… some went to the other side.” Tailfeathers reads the line as best she can, but it’s as if Niska is explaining crucial backstory via dialogue.

Goulet no doubt understands contemporary Indigenous politics and concerns. Toward the end of the film, a scene references the NoDAPL movement. Anyone familiar with the movement and its images will instantly react and engage with that imagery. Scenes like these, coupled with the premise of Night Raiders, display an astute understanding of the concerns of Indigenous people today.

In the end, Night Raiders is an important step forward for Indigenous futurism on screen. Goulet has created a story for us to ponder in 2021 that references the past, addresses current Indigenous concerns, and explores the path toward a better future. In looking at the value of children in a dystopian future, how they could be scarce and endangered, Night Raiders recalls Alfonso Cuaron’s incredible Children of Men. Both films tackle how important children are to the very existence of a people and a culture. The difference is that Indigenous people have already seen these traumatic possibilities become reality, and have already battled for preservation of children, language, culture, and survival (some might say that battle continues). Night Raiders is a science fiction film, but at the same time, it discusses very real things that have happened to Indigenous people in the past. Stories like Night Raiders shine a light on a raw wound from which Indigenous cultures are still healing. These are not easy stories to tell, and Goulet is one of the few filmmakers with the knowledge, craft, and skill to tell this painful story.

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