For many of us, family and culture are amongst the most vital aspects of our identity, since without them we would likely be adrift in a confusing world without any clear direction. However, life tends to be quite unpredictable, and challenges are bound to emerge at the most inopportune moments, when fate begins to encroach on such important elements in our daily lives, everything can be thrown into disarray, causing us to question many of the supposed sacrosanct connections that bind us to the past, whether through our direct family or the broader community in which we exist. In Fancy Dance, her powerful narrative directorial debut, Erica Tremblay explores this subject through the story of a Native American woman living on a reservation deep in the heartland of Oklahoma, where she tries to make a living, particularly in the aftermath of her release from prison after years of running afoul of the law. Her sister has recently gone missing, which has meant that she has to care for her niece, who is in turn a rebellious and agitated spirit intent on locating her mother, not only for the sake of being reunited, but also to prevent her inevitable rehoming with her estranged grandparents, who exist outside the community and seem to have very little genuine interest in her wellbeing, and instead simply want to take advantage of whatever they can glean from this situation. A simple but very effective film about the intersections of culture and identity, Fancy Dance is a powerful testament to the human condition, carefully pieced together by a director whose vision is strong and steadfast, being built on years of keen observation and conversations with those within her community and those outside of it, leading to a vibrant, captivating portrait of contemporary life for the Native American and Indigenous communities, who continue to feel the brunt of psychological colonialism, despite the supposed progressive nature of modern American cultural politics, which is as hollow and meaningless as any of their other promises over the years.

One of the most uncomfortable truths about modern social and cultural politics is that the colonial project never entirely concluded – the period of blatant imperialism as we were taught in school may have changed shape, but it still exists and actually could be perceived as being even more insidious, since it tends to be more harrowing and destructive precisely because of how it remains hidden, infiltrating society in unexpected but still genuinely harmful ways. Fancy Dance is a film that draws our attention to this harrowing reality, and the fact that it is helmed by a native filmmaker is a considerable boost upwards in terms of authenticity, particularly since countless similarly-themed stories were made with good intentions, but had someone who did not exist within these communities or have any sense of understanding of their plight to make it entirely effective. This film is complex, both narratively and in terms of how it is executed, that can only come from someone with the knowledge of the cultural specificity that exists throughout these communities, and Tremblay demonstrates herself to be an essential voice in elevating these themes, which are essentially a reworking of the theory of contemporary colonialism (although the idea that it is not a consolidated fact that defines relations between Native Americans and the United States government is something worth discussing as well, but requires much more nuance), and how the idea of peaceful co-existence is often shaken by the fraught relationship between the residents of these reservations and the people who have jurisdiction over the areas, proving that the reach of the government is far more than initial agreements may have intended or entirely understood. Fancy Dance uses the disappearance of an Indigenous woman (especially one who meets quite a cruel fate, and it is never made clear as to whether it was a murder or suicide that brought an end to the protagonist’s unseen sister’s life) as a scathing commentary on how the federal government can cause unmitigated harm in the communities that claim to respect and protect, showing just how fraught the relationship between these communities tend to be, especially in times of crisis.

The art of defiance has rarely been more radical than in the case of Lily Gladstone, who has spent her career not only elevating the stories of Indigenous characters but being a steadfast advocate for the communities that are severely underrepresented in the media, usually being relegated to the background or having their journeys trivialized to the point of being extremely one-dimensional in many cases. There is very little reason for us to be a quarter of the way into the 21st century and still be able to count the number of high-profile Native American actors on a single hand. As the face of what is proving to be quite a strong movement, which has its roots in decades of activism, Gladstone is aware of the power she has and has rarely shown herself to be anything less than thoroughly committed to these stories. Fancy Dance may not be quite as powerful as her work in Killers of the Flower Moon, or her breakthrough in Certain Women, but it does still prove to be a strong showcase for her exceptional talents. She is playing a slightly unconventional character, a woman who has spent much of her adult life defying authority and being constantly on the lam from the law, but rather than retreating, she chooses to fight for what she believes is her birthright, whether it is land or the fair treatment by those in positions of power. Much like Tremblay, Gladstone approaches the part of Jax with a fervent dedication to crafting her as more than just a one-dimensional archetype. Instead, she works to develop herself as a fully formed, complex protagonist who acts as the voice for the generations of women who have been silenced. It’s undeniably a film built around Gladstone and her incredible gifts, but it cannot be limited to solely an acting vehicle, especially when her co-lead Isabel DeRoy-Olson is just as strong, taking on the part of this conflicted teenager yearning to be free from the shackles of the past with impressive consistency and heartfelt honesty. Both leads are wonderful, and bring such vigour and complexity to these nuanced characters that only add to the effective nature of the overall film.

While Fancy Dance is undeniably forged from the model of social realism, this must not be mistaken for a film that intends to wrap everything up neatly and present it as a touching drama about identity and culture. There is a bleakness to this film that many may find quite unsettling and difficult to embrace, primarily because Tremblay shows very little interest in concluding the story on a note of optimism since that generosity is very rarely extended to the communities that are represented in this story. While a happy ending or one that was at least hopeful may have been more appreciated by those who find the journey of these characters very moving, the director instead prioritizes realism over anything else, which means that unsettling content is abundant throughout the film. Sadness lingers over Fancy Dance like a stormcloud, with the two main characters enduring many difficulties that come with quite simply trying to find answers to a question that haunts them. Despite their best efforts, they find themselves falling victim to the same mistreatment and despair afflicted on their ancestors, despite simply looking for a path forward. Tremblay does not avoid the more difficult subject matter – in fact, she actively leans into them, showing how life for native communities can sometimes entail simply trying to survive, especially since it seems like those in power see them as obstacles as part of the aforementioned surge of contemporary imperialism that is sometimes just as destructive as the more archaic counterpart. There are streaks of apoplectic fury that flow throughout Fancy Dance, and Tremblay is not hesitant to show her anger, which manifests through this bleak, unsettling portrait of a population that continues to grasp at any methods of survival, knowing that they are fighting for a battle they know they are bound to lose, and where they have resigned to simply surviving rather than daring to take on the systems that oppress them, even in seemingly small and unexpected ways.

While it never lays claim to being definitive or the ultimate authority on any of its themes, Fancy Dance is still a work of profound authenticity, being driven by the motivations to tell a story that has rarely been given the attention it deserves, and exploring the plight of entire communities that have remained concealed from much of modern media, but which has now been crafted into this powerful, earnest character study filled with memorable images and exceptional performances. Simply telling these stories with compassion and honesty is a start to the conversation, especially since the film doesn’t have a clear introduction or conclusion, merely acting as an episode in the lives of these ordinary people as they navigate hostile socio-cultural terrain, doing whatever it takes to survive while also seeking answers to burning questions that they cannot allow to fade into the ether, regardless of how much the authorities attempt to erode their independence and whatever power they may wield. It’s a very small, intimate film that is built on human emotions more than anything else, and while it doesn’t attempt to be entirely thorough, the film cannot resist making clear references to the dark history of the United States and its treatment of native communities, which forms the underlying foundation of the film and acts as the aspect that informs much of its identity and allows it to flourish into this profoundly moving, deeply angry critique of cultural conflict, socio-political issues and identity, all of which are the basis for this brutal indictment on the system and the people who both maintain this harmful status quo and those who have dedicated their lives to fighting the system, regardless of the consequences.