Discovering marvelous little gems such as this one, is the best part of my job.
Writer/director Billy Luther’s semi-autobiographical film is less a coming-of-age drama, and more a coming-of-identity revelation.
 |
| Although Benny (Keir Tallman) has nothing in common with his cousin Dawn (Charley Hogan), they become inseperable during a summer that allows the boy to better appreciate his cultural heritage. |
Benny also plays with action figures — he bridles when somebody refers to them as “dolls” — but his make-believe scenarios focus on kissing and their imagined sexual relations.
Perhaps due to pressure from his disapproving father, Benny is shipped off to Arizona, and the family “rez” where his Grandmother Lorraine (Sarah H. Natani, every inch a gentle, loving soul) has lived her entire life. She doesn’t speak a word of English — she refuses to learn, as it’s the “oppressor’s” language — and Benny speaks no Diné. They therefore talk past each other, although Lorraine is generous with her affection.
Benny has better luck with his kind, free-spirited Aunt Lucy (Kahara Hodges), a counter-culture throwback who makes and sells jewelry. His curt, quick-tempered Uncle Marvin (Martin Sensmeier), is more judgmental, believing the boy a disgrace to his Diné ancestry. Marvin fully expects him to help maintain the ramshackle pen where their sheep are kept each night, despite Benny’s total lack of experience with such things.
Small wonder Benny thinks solely of returning to San Diego, in order to see the Fleetwood Mac concert he’d earlier been promised. His isolation is total; even if he knew how to fit in, he’s disinclined to try.
The dynamic shifts with the unexpected arrival of his older cousin, Dawn (Charley Hogan), also dumped for the summer by her no-good mother (Owee Rae). Lorraine takes this in stride; we suspect Dawn frequently gets abandoned in this manner. She’s an aggressively odd duck: defiantly unkempt and somewhat overweight, which long ago prompted the unkind nickname — “Frybread Face” — by which most people call her (because that staple is “round and greasy”).
She’s never seen without her prized possession: a makeshift doll with a Cabbage Patch baby’s head and furry animal body, dubbed “Jeff Bridges” because the only movie she’s seen — repeatedly — is 1984’s Starman (on the rare occasions her grandmother’s generator is working).
Dawn initially shares Marvin’s belief that Benny is useless, rolling her eyes and disdainfully mocking his inability to speak Diné, and his unfamiliarity with their culture. But she gradually thaws upon realizing that Benny is a similar misfit, which — ironically — makes him “special” (tolerance being a key element in Diné culture).
The two don’t exactly bond, but they come to an understanding, and become constant companions. She soon leaps to his defense, in the face of Marvin’s anger and cutting remarks; Benny, in turn, constantly reminds others that her name is Dawn, not Frybread Face. Their subsequent “adventures” are modest, as befits this humble environment, but no less consequential, in terms of Benny’s development: finding a stray sheep, abruptly learning to drive (genuinely hilarious).
And, despite himself, Benny begins to watch and learn. He’s fascinated by his grandmother’s ability to weave rugs; thanks to subtitles, we understand her quiet explanation of the rituals involved in this creative process, even though he doesn’t grasp a single word. Despite the simplicity of her existence, she is wholly content, living in Hózhó — balance and harmony — a state that will forever elude someone like Marvin.
Benny and his grandmother’s relationship becomes more loving, particularly when she washes his hair, insisting that he never should use “white man’s soap,” because it would ruin his natural luster.
Luther is Diné, Hopi and Laguna Pueblo; he made his film on location, with a Diné crew, and the authenticity is apparent in every frame of Peter Simonite’s cinematography. He makes excellent use of occasional long shots, with Benny and Dawn walking in the distance, to convey the enormity of the vast and gorgeous landscape (actually New Mexico, standing in for Arizona).
The gentle story is laden with Diné rituals and culture, with their wonderful blend of mysticism and real-world harmony. Benny unexpectedly earns everybody’s respect when he makes an infant cousin laugh, little realizing that this is her first laugh: an important milestone seen as a sign of the baby’s desire to leave the spirit world and join her earthly family and community. This, in turn, makes Benny a key player in the subsequent ceremonial celebration of this momentous event.
The irony is that the infant’s parents — Uncle Roger (Jeremiah Bitsui) and Aunt Sharon (Nasheen Sleuth) — are aggressively unpleasant and condescending boors who’ve “gone white” and look down on everybody else. (Both actors excel at arrogance. We hate them on sight.)
This thoughtful, uncomplicated film is laced with gentle humor, much of it coming from Hogan’s gift for well-timed one-liners. The key inclusiveness elements are a running theme, but never obtrusively. The acting is uniformly excellent: unmannered and authentic. I often forgot that this was a film, feeling instead that I was spending the summer with these people.
Luther makes the most of his economical 83 minutes, and his conclusion is particularly sweet. Even so, I wished for more ... and how often does that happen, these days?
No comments:
Post a Comment