Every so often, a film comes along that, as if out of nowhere, leaves an unexpected impression and a need to find a moment to take in all that was witnessed fully; it’s a phenomenon that can come from any genre, any type of project, any filmmaker or subject, from battles in a galaxy far, far away to the intricate life story of a media tycoon. Sometimes, the smallest forms of art end up being the most effective, with “Sugarcane” a perfect example of how to draw in an audience to the film’s powerful message with moments as shocking as any entry into the world of horror.
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“Sugarcane” takes audiences into the world of the Canadian Indian residential school system, now long defunct, which served to take Indigenous Canadian children from the traditions of their culture into a boarding school setting meant to strip away all they held dear with the intention to thrust them into a predominantly Christian way of life. As the film opens, imagery of as-yet-unnamed individuals undertaking such tasks as intricate woodcarving and a lively powwow serve to briefly set the stage for what’s soon to follow as the narrative shifts towards an investigation into the atrocities that occurred at St. Joseph’s Mission. This particular residential school serves as the focus of the film, decades after its closure but still a haunting presence in the lives of the survivors who can still painfully recall rape at the hands of the priests in charge, babies that resulted who were shockingly disposed of in a manner too callous even to begin to describe, numerous counts of violent torture and those who never made it be it in an escape attempt or suicide. Through frequent onscreen interviews, all of which never feel forced or coerced by the filmmaker, the survivors profiled contribute what they can in the form of painful recollections of horrendous memories and questions about those who never made it out alive; for those who did, the years appear to have done little to heal any wounds, and with every upsetting story, it becomes increasing difficult to watch, as much as it is to look away.
Director Julian Brave NoiseCat, who helmed the documentary alongside Emily Kassie, appears a frequent onscreen presence throughout, a necessary audience surrogate as he speaks with his father Ed, the latter a St. Joseph’s survivor with his own questions as to the early days of his childhood at the institution. Through each conversation, there’s an undeniable bond with every tearful instance of recall, eventually culminating in an emotional talk with Ed’s own mother, who can barely bring herself to verbalize all that happened to them. Another face appearing throughout is that of Rick Gilbert, another who endured St. Joseph’s as a youth but nonetheless remains a fervent Catholic, as the film follows him on a trip to Italy for a meeting with the Pope and a reconciliation for all that happened; though presumably uplifting for Gilbert to hear the Vatican figurehead apologize for the countless misdeeds of St. Joseph’s, it can’t help but feel hollow. A later scene, however, packs a tremendous punch, as Gilbert meets one-on-one with a different priest for a chat that culminates in a revelation so appalling that the camera lingers on each man for an uncomfortable length of time, allowing the audience to sit in the moment with both and feel that pain as if it were their own.
An additional component to the film is the investigation by the Williams Lake First Nation into all that happened in a valiant attempt to uncover the truth amongst the ghosts of the past; it is here that the frustration felt by all involved becomes palpable, whether it’s reporters questioning Prime Minister Justin Trudeau following a heavily scripted speech made to address the situation or in the efforts of First Nations members Charlene Belleau and Willie Sellars as they conduct their own research and make phone calls to the few priests still alive today, one of whom can be heard noticeably cutting the call short. Though NoiseCat and Kassie do their best to break up the heavy tone with periodic shots of lighthearted get-togethers and even a public dance, “Sugarcane” is quick to reevaluate, allowing silence to speak louder than words ever could.
Let it be said that cinematography serves an undeniable role from start to finish, with beautiful shots of the Canadian landscape acting as a character in and of itself. Seeing the actual St. Joseph’s Mission, now in an advanced state of decay, or groups of investigators combing the surrounding area for numerous unmarked graves only further punctuate the passage of time and the hurdles that may forever stay in place as questions remain unanswered. As scenes cut back and forth between musings on years gone by, slice-of-life moments, and Belleau and Sellars looking through seemingly endless amounts of investigative material, it’s hard to ignore the closeness that exists amongst the members of this community. Still, in the trauma that lives inside all those involved, an air of unease just as thick punctuates the entirety of “Sugarcane.“
It would be near-impossible to imagine “Sugarcane” possessing anything close to a happy ending or reasonable conclusion to the investigation, which does indeed prove to be true as the film approaches the credits and the inevitable post-script appears to fill audiences in on all that’s happened since filming wrapped. Yet, there exists some genuine hope as “Sugarcane” comes to a close, with the final words a clear indicator of how those who survived live for all those who did not, even if the ordeal of the past may forever remain locked there, never to find a way to offer the answers so many seek and the recovery they desperately need. This is far more than just a film. [A]
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