Lily Gladstone made history this year as the first Native American nominated for a Best Actress Oscar, for her starring role in Martin Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon. A win for her this year would be especially resonant, as a rising generation of Native writers, actors and showrunners continues to transform the kinds of stories Hollywood tells about Indigenous people.
As Gladstone makes headlines with her series of “firsts”, she’s worked hard to spotlight Native designers and emphasize her pride in her Blackfeet history and language, reminding audiences at every turn that “first” is very different from “only”.
When we asked Gladstone to share a short list of people she considers part of her Native Hollywood network, Gladstone sent 42 names, a list that included not only prominent writers and directors, like Sterlin Harjo and Sierra Teller Ornelas, but also Native cinematographers, film editors, costume and set designers, and wardrobe and stunt specialists.
The Guardian spoke with eight of these artists about breaking into the industry, the work they’re doing now, and the kind of Hollywood future they’re trying to create.
The actors
Sheila Tousey, actor
Isabel Deroy-Olson, actor
Richard Ray Whitman, actor, writer and artist
Casey Camp-Horinek, actor
Kendra Mylnechuk Potter, actor and producer
Morningstar Angeline, actor and filmmaker
Dallas Goldtooth, actor and writer
Devery Jacobs, actor, writer and director
Jana Schmieding, actor and writer
Ryker Sixkiller, stunt actor and actor
The cinematographers, editors and composers
Deidra Peaches, cinematographer
Rose Stiffarm, cinematographer
Adrian Wagner, composer
Jacob Bearchum, film and video editor
The wardrobe and set teams
Sydne Gray, costume department
Julie O'Keefe, wardrobe and cultural consultant
Alaina Maker, set costumer
Amy Higdon, costume designer
Kristi Hoffman, costume designer
Sierra Revis, production design
Tafv Sampson, set decorator and production design
Pierre Barrera, set dresser and actor
The directors, writers and showrunners
Sterlin Harjo, showrunner and director
Sierra Teller Ornelas, showrunner and writer
Miciana Alise, writer
Chad Charlie, writer
Ryan RedCorn, writer
Migizi Pensoneau, writer and producer
Bobby Dues Wilson, writer and producer
Brooke Pepion Swaney, writer, director and producer
Zoe Hopkins, writer and director
Razelle Benally, writer and director
Jesse Short Bull, writer, director and producer
Erica Tremblay, writer and director
Danis Goulet, writer and director
Billy Luther, writer, director and producer
Tazbah Chavez, writer, director and producer
Ivy MacDonald, director and producer
Ivan MacDonald, director and producer
Maggie Rice Cunningham, producer and production manager
Willi White, producer
Sierra Revis, production design
* * *
Erica Tremblay, film-maker
Seneca-Cayuga Nation
Tremblay directed Fancy Dance, a feature film starring Gladstone slated for release this year, which she co-wrote with Miciana Alise
When it comes to Native representation in Hollywood, what’s changed – and what hasn’t?
The reality is that Native Americans have been making films, making art, crafting their own stories, for millennia. Oftentimes, when people talk about “representation”, it can have this weird overtone of discovery. Native Americans have been on this continent making art for all of history. We’ve been out here representing ourselves, representing our stories and representing our communities forever.
Getting a distributor for Fancy Dance was a long journey – something you wrote about publicly, before the film was finally picked up by AppleTV+.
We premiered at Sundance in 2023, got all of these incredible reviews. The audiences on social media were talking about how much they loved Lily. We were like, okay, is someone going to buy the film? Last year was a very fraught time in our industry, and independent film was hit quite hard. Lily’s bravery in continuing to push this film was so vital in getting us across the finish line.
What do you enjoy about working on projects with other Native artists?
We have a certain shorthand and a certain humor. When Native folks show up to a project they really show up. When we were making Fancy Dance, we had the set calls translated into Cayuga, and everyone on set was using Cayuga as a living, breathing language, every day, which was so special – calling words like “action” and “roll” and “set” in Cayuga.
Is there anything distinctive about the Indigenous artists you know working in film right now?
The one thing that I love about Native Hollywood is the support system. Everyone really roots for everyone else to succeed. You might think in a world of limited resources there would be this competition, but everyone collectively celebrates every time someone else has a win. You can really see that kind of culture embodied in how Lily is scooping everyone up and dragging us with her as she goes through this process.
* * *
Ryker Sixkiller, actor/stunt actor
Cherokee from Wauhillau, Oklahoma
Worked on Reservation Dogs, Killer of the Flower Moon, Keep Quiet
How did you break into work as a stunt actor?
I joined some acting groups on social media. From there, I submitted for everything. Paid, non-paid, pizza provided. I’ve been very fortunate to land a few roles, but that came with hundreds of auditions that I didn’t land.
When it comes to Native representation in Hollywood, what has changed over the course of your career?
I didn’t land my first Native role until 2021. Prior to that, I never fit society’s stereotypical “look” of a Native American. During the first several years of my career, I always feared that landing a Native role would put me in a compromising position by being asked to do something on screen that was a misrepresentation of Native identity. With more Natives and allies in the industry, we don’t have to worry about that as much and it’s a relief. There is a much larger platform for Native stories than ever before.
What new Native-driven projects are you most excited about?
The latest season of True Detective, which stars Kali Reis, and Rez Ball, a new coming-of-age sports drama on Netflix produced by LeBron James.
* * *
Isabel Deroy-Olson, actor
Tr’ondek Hwech’in / Anishinaabe
The 18-year-old stars with Gladstone in Fancy Dance, a drama set for release later this year
What are some things you enjoy about working on projects (or on set) with other Native artists?
I mean, we are all human, but having people who come from the same cultural background, even though our Nations are very diverse, means we can skip the cultural competency and history lessons we often find ourselves telling as the only Indigenous people in the room, and get right to the good stuff – creating art. On Fancy Dance, there were so many strong Indigenous women working on-screen and as part of the crew, I felt like I was really being taken care of and watched out for. The aunties were everywhere, and it was the best.
What have been some of the most meaningful milestones for you in terms of Native representation?
Reservation Dogs changed the landscape of film and TV for me. As a young Indigenous woman, I didn’t have lots of representation. Getting to see my younger sibling and my cousins see themselves represented on screen makes me so happy.
What new Native-driven projects are you most excited about?
Netflix’s Avatar: The Last Airbender. It’s so gratifying getting to see the success of other young Indigenous actors.
* * *
Ivy and Ivan MacDonald, documentary film-makers
Blackfeet tribe of Browning Montana
The siblings are co-directors on Bring Them Home, a documentary about an Indigenous effort to re-establish a wild buffalo herd on ancestral land
What did you do to build your career?
I studied film-making in college, and my brother Ivan was getting his masters in social work. We ended up creating a documentary, When They Were Here, about missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls. Later we won an Emmy for an ESPN short that we helped produce, Blackfeet Boxing: Not Invisible, in Browning, Montana, where I grew up, that was teaching young women how to defend themselves. We have our first feature, Bring Them Home, premiering at the Big Sky Documentary Film Festival this month. Lily narrated the film.
How do you know Lily?
We met each other at a grocery store in Missoula, Montana. I was working, and she came in, and I told one of my co-workers: “That’s Lily Gladstone.” Lily and I both went to the University of Montana. In film school, before I knew her, I had an editing class, and they had all this stock footage of the actors doing different scenes, and they had one Lily was in. I was the only one in the class who made Lily the main character.
Are their ways your Native identity shapes your approach to film-making?
My brother and I talk about: ‘No extractive filmmaking.’ You don’t go into a community – whether it’s a narrative or a documentary – and extract a story. You get local crew, you get people to help you that are from the community. That’s such an important aspect of my Indigenous way of thinking. You don’t just go in, take a story, and leave. You try to create this community before you shoot.
* * *
Rose Stiffarm, cinematographer
Siksikaitsitapi, Quw’utsun, W̱SÁNEĆ, Aaniiih, Nakoda
Stiffarm, a freelance cinematographer and director of photography, is working on A’soka’piiwa, a horror film
What motivates the work that you do?
I had an encounter with this woman in Seattle. She was asking me where I came from: ‘Are you from Samoa, or the Philippines? Are you Hawaiian?’ She told me she didn’t think Natives existed anymore. I was, mind you, on the public bus. This was 10, maybe 15 years ago. There wasn’t a whole lot of representation on Indigenous people on-screen. It’s really exciting to see this huge shift. People will see this new representation, and that will change how they see Indigenous people.
How does your experience shape how you approach making films?
As much as operating the camera, it’s knowing when not to operate the camera. Sometimes, here’s things that just shouldn’t be filmed. As an Indigenous cinematographer, if there’s something that’s happening, a ceremony that I am familiar with, I know enough to turn the camera off and put the lens cap on, so people can see I’m not recording. For documentary work, that’s huge.
What are some of your favorite recent Native-lead projects?
I really appreciated Rutherford Falls. The cinematography balanced the darkness behind drama, the brightness behind comedy. It doesn’t take place on the rez, it takes place in the suburbs, which is a different perspective that you don’t normally see. And the topics they handled – land back, cultural appropriation, the media – were done in a way that you’re laughing and slapping your knee the whole time. The showrunners, Sierra Teller Ornelas and Jana Schmieding, are doing a show called Bonnie next – I’m really looking forward to that.
* * *
Brooke Pepion Swaney, writer, director and producer
Citizen of the Blackfeet Nation, and a Bitterroot Salish descendant
Swaney directed the documentary Daughter of a Lost Bird. Her comedy script Tinder on the Rez was a 2020 Indigenous List pick
How did you start your career?
I went to film school at NYU and during the last year, I realized I wasn’t going to get much done on my own personal projects if I stayed. I was going to get swallowed up by the city. I missed being back in Montana. I’m a westerner. I wanted to come back and make films there.
When it comes to Native representation in Hollywood, what has and hasn’t changed?
Unless Indigenous people are making the content, we’re still being situated in the past, and we’re still contending with a lot of very big stereotypes. You have all of these sports team images in the back of people’s heads, and this American mythology: ‘Oh, the frontier, it’s totally open.’ And it’s not open. We’ve been here. It’s an uphill battle. People in the 70s were saying: ‘We’re still here,’ and now, 50-some years later, we’re having to say the same thing.
What films or television shows are you trying to make at the moment?
Tinder on the Rez is a comedy. The heroine moves back to the reservation and is trying to date all these people, while feeling the pressure of the real things happening in her family. We’re dealing with this character who is not a great person. It’s like Fleabag. I’ve also been writing a dark comedy feature, about a tribal cop and his activist cousin who decide to take matters into their own hands when a white supremacist beats up their brother/cousin.
* * *
Alaina Maker, costume and wardrobe
Osage Citizen, Deer Clan
Maker was the key costumer on Fancy Dance and a set costumer on Killers of the Flower Moon and Reservation Dogs
How did you break into the film industry?
On Killers of the Flower Moon, I interviewed with a couple different departments. The costume supervisor asked me if I could make Osage clothes, and I told her yes. My mom taught me how to make ribbon work – women wear ribbon work skirts, and men wear ribbon work suits. Throughout my whole life, I’ve watched her make things. Every family has different patterns that they wear.
First, I was in the sewing room of the costume department, working with the tailor. Then I was asked to come assist with the fittings, and I was able to provide a bit of my knowledge about the clothing. I was asked to be part of the demonstrations that were done to show the crew how the clothes should be worn. Then they asked me to come to the first week of shooting. That’s how I got my start as a set costumer.
Do you feel like you need to move to LA? Or as Sterlin Harjo and others bring a lot of Indigenous film and TV work to Oklahoma, can you build a career there?
There’s a time when I did think about moving to somewhere other than Oklahoma to get more jobs. But I get most of my energy and creativity being around my people. I’ve seen a lot of good projects come through Tulsa. We have a lot of creative people here in Oklahoma. I know Sterlin is working on something with Ethan Hawke that will be produced here, and I think that’s great. I hope more people want to create things here, in our home.
Are there works of Native art that you like to recommend?
A Pipe for February, by Charles Red Corn, is a book set in the 1920s, in the reign of terror era. If people want to see another perspective on the Killers of a Flower Moon era, that’s really good.
* * *
Razelle Benally, director and screenwriter
Oglala Lakota / Diné
A recent NYU Film graduate, she co-directed and produced the documentary series Murder in Big Horn, and has written for Dark Winds, a crime drama set in the 1970s Navajo Nation
What are some things you enjoy about working on set with other Native artists? Many of us share the nostalgia of waking up to the smell and sound of grandma making tortillas or fry bread. Many of us know what it’s like to have that one rowdy uncle or wild auntie who brags about all the mischief they got into on the rez when they were teenagers. Many of us have parents or relatives who experienced horrific things at boarding school and that’s why we grew up rarely getting hugs or hearing the words “I love you” from them. When you have a shared history or similar upbringing, you connect easier. You don’t have to explain why it’s important for us to gather together at the beginning of each shoot day to smudge or why you shouldn’t whistle at night.
What is one of your most meaningful recent projects?
The epidemic of missing and murdered Indigenous women, men, and LGBTQ+ folks is staggering. My cousin was found deceased on the streets of Gallup, New Mexico, a few years ago; not long after that, my brother’s best friend was found deceased in Arizona. Both Dinè, both no longer with us, both close to our family. With Murder in Big Horn, I was able to lend my personal experience towards making of the series in an ethical and informed way.
When it comes to Native representation in Hollywood, what has changed, and what hasn’t?
I’ll tell you what has not changed … getting asked a question about Native representation in the industry. What has changed: a lot of people these days are embracing their Indigeneity. Especially folks who grew up not connected to their lineage or who grew up away from their rez. I do believe film, television and pop culture has influenced that. It’s cool to be Native these days. I love that for our people.
