From Acting to Writing to Directing = Storytelling
When I first acted in The Indian in the Cupboard, I didn’t imagine I’d one day be writing and directing films. But over time, the path shifted, and I know find myself comfortably behind the camera and telling my own stories.
Strong Hearts
The turning point was Strong Hearts: An Indigenous Love Letter to My Sons. I asked myself: If I only had minutes left with my kids, what would I say? The answer became a short film that’s been shown worldwide. We filmed on battlefields where Crazy Horse once fought, with my sons beside me. Every word, every shot mattered. The recognition and awards that Strong Hearts has received at festivals has been great. But the real impact is when parents watch it with their kids, when young Native men say it gave them strength, when fathers find words they didn’t have before. That’s the win for me.
Directing with Responsibility
Directing films is about creating a myriad of visuals and soundscapes for words that had previously just existed in black and white on paper and heard only in someones head while being read. But, given the narrative subject matter that I am interested in, there is another layer of directing for me which is directly connected to cultural responsibility. For me the guiding principles revolve around every frame honoring the truth of the Indigenous experience, respecting the complicated journey of our people and bringing to live the vibrance, brilliance and varied beautiful intricacies of the vastness of Indigeneity and all our Tribal uniqueness. And that of course is an exciting, challenging, inspiring and compelling proposition for me as a creative. And sadly, one that I fear I may not have enough years to tell the thousands of stories I would love to tell as a filmmaker- even if I lived to be 300 years old. And for me that’s where visual storytelling becomes sacred work that can impact people today and for generations to come.
Writing from the Soul – Like I always have
I’ve learned we don’t need Hollywood’s permission. And quite honestly, we’ve never had it. We have had some temporary wins as of late, but those few minor wins were fleeting and they pale in comparison to the successes of other communities. We already have the stories, traditions, and voices the world needs to see and hear. Writing is yet another way of protecting and sharing that and reclaiming the narrative for our indigenous communities. Writing is where I began my creative journey. My initial exploration into the world of writing was in high school probably as a way to escape anxiety induced by the struggles my parents were going through at the time. I was already feeling a bit lost as a pre-teen and dealing with all the stuff that goes along with that awkward transition into adulthood. So shutting all that stress off and listening to music, with a pen and a pad, and imagining stories that matched the mood of what I was feeling- then letting my mind and my pen go – was a wonderful release for me and the pressures I was feeling. Little did I know that I was exercising a muscle that would one day allow me the confidence to tap into a creative space that subsequently would impact thousands and thousands of people through the many, many albums of songs I’ve now written. It led me to collaborating with my long time creative cohort Val Woods on my first book, the Medicine of Prayer. And then it led me to my first script, “Thunder Dreamer”, about the life of Crazy Horse. A man who I’ve referenced in my music over my entire career and whose quote at the battle of the Little Big Horn inspired the naming of one of my most popular albums, Good Day To Die – and many of the songs on that album. I won’t go into the many different auspicious occurrences that led me to walking the long road of penning an entire script over two years about a man whose story I believe has never fully been told. But what I will say is: it was a beautifully exhausting, all consuming, and empowering journey that words will never fully be able to describe. And through that exercise, I learned that my gift as a writer had evolved again.
No Green Light = No Film
The film industry correlates creative success directly to a project’s revenue generation. They view Indigenous content as a low income revenue generating niche market. It’s always been a novelty for Hollywood and it continues to be. So getting meaningful indigenous projects approved for production or “green lit” by a studio is always a tremendous challenge. The result is the most powerful Indigenous ideas and stories never get made into films and the projects that are made result in the Indigenous storyline used as meaningless fodder or the storyline perpetuates an indigenous narrative, usually stereotypical, that mainstream audiences are comfortable with and can relate to. A vicious Hollywood cycle that continues to negatively impact generations of Indigenous communities.
Why now
In my entire life I’ve never known a time where I’ve felt more compelled to stand up and do my part to protect the future of indigeneity. If not now, when?
What’s Next
Keep doing what you’ve always done, you’ll keep getting what you’ve always gotten. That’s basically the definition of insanity: doing the same broken thing over and over again expecting a different end result. So, I feel that enough is enough and its time for a new approach. Through IndigiProductions and IndigiStudios, I’m working on:
- Feature films centering on Indigenous heroes and compelling narrative
- Documentaries that preserve our truths, heighten awareness and give voice
- Series that normalize and humanize our presence in the world – in totality
- Distribution of our stories to global audiences: 24 hours a day – 7 days a week
- Sustainable Indigenous content creation and development of creatives
The goal: an ecosystem that generates and distributes indigenous content for mass consumption while reclaiming the Indigenous narrative one project at a time.
This journey has taken me from record label owner and rap artist to concert stages to movie screens, to the corporate board room, to advocating for Tribal sovereignty on Capitol Hill and now writing and directing films, Bur regardless which venue it’s been or what hat I am wearing, it’s always been about the same thing for me: lifting up our people, knowing our worth, owning our stories and reclaiming the Indigenous narrative.
Onward!
With respect,
Litefoot