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_____NOVELIST SHERMAN ALEXIE TALKS
BY MARY ELIZABETH WILLIAMS | "It's a good day to be indigenous," the disc jockey at radio station KREZ declares early on in the movie "Smoke Signals." Sherman Alexie might well be thinking the same thing lately. The 31-year-old poet and novelist is the co-producer and screenwriter of the movie, which won the Audience Award and Filmmaker's Trophy at Sundance this year, and he's now slated to direct the big-screen version of his latest novel, "Indian Killer." His talent for mixing wry humor with social commentary -- as well as his success in getting his first movie made with a Native American director (Chris Eyre, in his feature debut) and cast -- have critics already suggesting that Alexie might be cinema's biggest breakthrough story since Spike Lee. But Sherman Alexie is very much his own guy. The author, who grew up on a reservation in Spokane, Wash., is as voracious in his love of American pop culture as he is conscious of his native roots, and he's as exasperated by New Age liberals who co-opt Indian traditions as he is by more run-of-the-mill forms of stereotyping. And while he's obviously pleased with the attention he's been getting (he can recite the exact number of positive reviews his film has garnered so far -- 137), he's more enthused about opening the door for other Indian writers and filmmakers than he is in becoming the spokesman for any media-manufactured movement. Besides, he's got a movie to talk about. Though "Smoke Signals" is unmistakably a story about Indian characters and situations, it wisely doesn't profess to be a story about The Native American Experience. With his novelist's eye for character and detail, Alexie is at once specific to a certain world and universal in his exploration of family and friendship. The movie begins in fire and ends in ashes. Based on Alexie's 1993 short story collection "The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven," the film is a sweetly offbeat road movie that deftly weaves sly wit into a story of devastating loss. Victor Joseph (Adam Beach), a handsome, macho athlete, and Thomas Builds-the-Fire (Evan Adams), his nervous chatterbox of a friend, are traveling from the Coeur d'Alene reservation in Idaho to Arizona to pick up the remains of Victor's estranged father. Victor hardly knows how to embark on his odyssey -- he's broke, he's never been off the reservation and his notion of how a real Indian should behave is based as much on legend and hype as his own experience. He chastises the dweeby Thomas to "get stoic" (a demeanor he thinks involves looking like you just killed a buffalo), but quickly discovers his grim visage doesn't count for much in the white world. Thomas, for his part, grins goofily and wears a "Frybread Power" T-shirt, but gamely attempts, again and again, to establish himself as a keeper of oral tradition. And it's Thomas who best remembers Victor's father, and who comes up with the most fitting way of laying his remains to rest. Victor and Thomas are, in many ways, a classic cinematic odd couple. But while their exasperated exchanges fuel the movie's humor, they also reveal its deepest theme -- the simple longing to be truly accepted and understood. It's a subject dear to Alexie's own heart. When you first started referring to the movie, a year or so ago, it was still called "This Is What it Means to Say Phoenix, Arizona" [the title of the short story the film is based on]. How did the title change come about, and what does the phrase "Smoke Signals" mean to you? "Smoke Signals" was my title, it was my idea. I always wanted to change the name of the movie. I liked the old one, obviously -- I wrote the story -- but it was decidedly uncinematic. We kept searching for something that had the right number of syllables, that was vaguely humorous. I liked this because, first of all, it called to mind the clichéd stereotype of a big-cheeked Indian, standing on the plain. It also identified the movie as Indian material, and that it's about fire and the effects of smoke. And also in its most contemporary sense, smoke signals are a distress signal, and the character Victor is in distress. You've said that you went through a lot to get this movie made the way you wanted. I had a lot of bullshit meetings with white producers and actors and executives, if that's what you mean. It seems that every white person in Hollywood has a pet Indian project. It's something that's very appealing to white liberals. I'm imagining a lot of, "We love you, we're dying to tell your story, oh, and can we get Lou Diamond Phillips for the lead?" Sure, especially after "Courage Under Fire" came out. He's a good actor, I like him a lot, but he's not Indian. So they really did bring up Lou Diamond Phillips? Oh yeah. But as soon as somebody said anything about casting, or about casting whites, the meeting was over. I have a lucrative literary career, I made a lot of money from my writing. I'm one of the most critically acclaimed authors in America. I don't need to do this. Why then was it so important to you to make this movie, and to get it made the way you wanted, with the people you wanted? So that I could get more audience. There's the whole circular notion of the more people see movies the more people will read the book. I want to increase my readership. And ironically, making movies is a way to reach more Indians. What do you think their reaction will be? I think the people who didn't like my stuff before will see that it is hopeful and that I'm dealing seriously with social problems. The big thing is that when people read a book and imagine the faces they're going to put real people on the characters and feel I'm exploiting those individuals. Once something is on the screen, they're going to know that these are fictional characters. After this you're doing another Native American-themed movie, "Indian Killer." Are you nervous about directing for the first time? I'm not afraid because I know already the best thing a director can do is to say, "Help!" When we did "Smoke Signals," I wasn't just the writer: I was involved in costumes, I co-wrote five of the songs. And there were dozens of people who contributed so significantly and so individually that it would have been impossible to do it without them. A set designer, a costume designer or one of the actors would make a suggestion, and that's how it was. I'm not one of those people who has to do everything. This whole auteur thing is bullshit and myth. I am the auteur of my novels. When people talk about being film auteurs, I think, I'd like to see you try to write a book. This is the most collaborative thing I've ever done, outside of sports. As the director, I'm just surrounded. "Smoke Signals" is paving the way for a lot of other stuff for you and getting a lot of positive attention. Why do you think people are embracing it? We made a good movie. It's very original -- we haven't seen these characters before. In a lot of ways it's an old-fashioned movie; it's a story about a journey to a place and the journey back. I think people are tired of good-looking white guys shooting each other, saying clever things. People talk about independent films being different, but they're not; they just have less money. This movie is a story. And now because of this film, you're the guy of the moment, you're Mr. Native America. Is it strange to be standing pretty much alone in the field of major Native American filmmakers? I'm glad to have this; it gives me a certain degree of power and influence. And better me than some lazy old drunk. I've had real jobs, and I've been fired from every job I've ever had. Now I'm sitting here in a nice hotel room drinking all the Diet Pepsi I can handle. As the movie is getting out there and into theaters, what do you want to see happen with it? What I want is for this to be successful enough for other filmmakers to get projects. We're talking filmmakers who've been making movies longer than I've been alive. And I wanted to do this movie so I'd be able to make another, and that's already happening. In fact, I'm making two other movies [after "Indian Killer," Alexie will film "Reservation Blues," based on his first novel]. I'm a good writer who may be a great writer one day. I'm harder on myself than anybody, but I'm very happy with the movie. I think it's going to do really well. One of the questions I get asked is when I'm going to start making movies about white people. But there are lots of other stories I still want to tell -- it's not like there are so many Indian movies out there. As you get bigger and the stakes get higher, do you get worried that you're going to get leaned on to make more big budget, Brad Pitt-type movies? I'm not interested in those kinds of movies -- the more money you spend, the worse the movie you make anyway. I've turned down offers already. But I'd like to work with people of other ethnicities. I could make a movie with Martin Scorsese about an Indian in the Mafia. Or do a movie about Indians and Irish people with Jim Sheridan. Or about Indians and the gay community with Gus Van Sant. It's not a matter of how many Indians are in the movie, the idea is to write a movie in which there's a real story and real characters.
I'm not trying to speak for everybody. I'm one individual heavily
influenced by my tribe. And good art doesn't come out of assimilation -- it
comes out of tribalism.
"Indian
Killer," by Sherman Alexie Book review
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