Continuing on from Totem: The Return Of The G’psgolox Pole, made four years earlier, Totem: Return And Renewal details the return of an important mortuary totem pole to its rightful home amongst the Haisla people of Canada. The pole had been sold by an unnamed individual to Sweden, where it formed the centrepiece of a museum of ethnographic curiosities. The film opens with an impassioned prayer celebrating its homecoming, and tears are shed at every stage of the pole’s journey from Sweden to the Haisla village of Kitimaat. The narrator recaps the history carved into the pole as it is repatriated to rapturous clamour. The pole is kept horizontally in the Kitimaat mall, in wait for the construction of a Haisla cultural centre where it will remain entombed.
The film’s title suggests that the pole’s importance goes beyond mere symbolism, as the totem refreshes the identity of its people and serves as a teaching tool for the next generation, although the children in the film appear mostly bemused by its presence. Gil Cardinal, the director responsible for both documentaries, understands the role of this second film, keeping it short at just over twenty minutes to act as a triumphant epilogue to the G’psgolox story. In this way Return And Renewal scarcely stands on its own as a film, although it does offer new insight on the future of the pole, as well as introducing the new icon of the pole’s circular yoke which is hung up in the local school.
Raising questions about the commoditisation of minority cultures, this feature-length documentary concerns the Haisla people of British Columbia in Canada. The titular artefact is a large mortuary totem pole, commissioned by Eagle Chief G’psgolox in honour of his dead family. In the late 1920s, the pole mysteriously went missing, but was discovered some sixty years later to have been sold by an anonymous unauthorised tipster to the Swedish government, who had placed it in the centre of an ethnographic museum in Stockholm. The film traces the story of the Haisla from the formation of their modern identity to their contemporary struggles to protect their culture. Most of the interviewees hail from the Haisla Nation, specifically from the village of Kitimaat, from where the pole was taken.
Filmmaker Gil Cardinal is a Métis himself (that is to say, of mixed European and First Nation heritage), and the documentary consequently shows great respect for its subject. Cardinal shares the Haisla’s indignation at the revelation that the Swedish government agreed to return the pole under the condition that they house it in a museum themselves, in conflict with Haisla tradition. A short video sequence showing two Haisla dignitaries visiting the pole in Sweden is a poignant moment in an otherwise sedate documentary. Outsiders may feel that more of the Haisla culture should have been explained (for example, how its members feel about adopting European names), but the film otherwise fulfils its duty. A sequel was produced in honour of the pole’s triumphant return.
Following suit from such other cautionary tales as Reefer Madness and Cocaine Fiends, Crane Wilbur’s Tomorrow’s Children weaves a questionable yarn about enforced sterilisation. Our protagonist is Alice Mason, a well-spoken woman in a happy relationship. She and her beau Jim often talk about the future, discussing the children they would love to have. Cut to the Mason household – a state health official examines Alice’s many younger siblings, while her alcoholic father sits passively at the table, bottle in hand. The official is there to aid in the birth of another Mason child, which turns out to be stillborn. However, as he warns a devastated Alice, the state of affairs in their household is so deplorable that he demands Alice and her family be sterilised to prevent their weak genes from passing down another generation.
The subject itself is nothing less than shocking – compulsory sterilisation has its roots in eugenics, often stretching the definition of poor genes to include not just hereditary conditions, but also different skin colours. Of course, the film fails to present any facts persuasively. As with many social guidance films of the time, everything here is hugely exaggerated to the point of hysterics. Alice is remarkably turned out given the callousness exhibited by her parents, who casually give the health officials the thumbs up to her sterilisation. It should also be pointed out that any educational film dealing with a serious ethical debate might want to steer clear of using a mincing doctor as comic relief.
Breakfast is an important meal. It sets you up for the day and gives you the required nutrients, no more, no less - it's a square meal. And this, in a way, is what this film review blog is meant to do. No matter what sort of film it is, every review gets exactly 250 words - just enough to get your RDA of plot, background info and critique.
I try my best to watch and review films from all over the place, in the same way I might have French toast one morning, and Coco Pops the next. Anyway, I'll leave you to get stuck in. Feel free to give me feedback, ask me where to find films, tell me off for unfair comments... I'm all ears. Bon appétit!