ImagineNATIVE Cinema: A Conversation with Niki Little

May 19, 2021

A confession: before I made my first trip, a few years ago, to the imagineNATIVE Film + Media Arts Festival in Toronto, I had seen precious little Indigenous cinema. The average cinephile in the West watches predominantly films made by white people, mostly men. What’s more, as I discuss in my accompanying essay, film culture’s long-running love affair with the “auteur” does not always do justice to Indigenous cinema. It’s a problem that is often reinforced by film festivals—especially the largest and most prestigious ones. ImagineNATIVE, which was founded in 1999, was a revelation to me because it presented work that I rarely encountered at other festivals, and it did so without foregrounding the figure of the auteur. Further, the festival challenged the boundaries of “Indigenous cinema” by showcasing work that spanned an astonishing variety of forms, genres, and originating communities.

Jason Ryle, former executive director of imagineNATIVE, once said that his dream was for a time when there would be no need for the broad umbrella label “Indigenous cinema.” Instead, we might have “Anishinaabe cinema, or Inuit cinema or Māori cinema.” But until then, Ryle argued, “when we speak about Indigenous cinema, it should be like when one speaks about European cinema: it’s a body of nations telling stories but within that there’s so much diversity and so much depth.” Having experienced this diversity firsthand at imagineNATIVE each year, I hope that it becomes an essential destination for cinephiles.

To learn more about the festival’s history, vision, and initiatives, I got in touch with Niki Little, who is Anishininew/English from Kistiganwacheeng (Garden Hill First Nation) and has been artistic director of imagineNATIVE since 2019.

How big was the first edition of the festival?: In the first year of imagineNATIVE, there were over 200 titles of both new and archived short-form work, including films and various styles of screen/audio works from the previous few decades.

But as technology and tools for storytelling have evolved, our scope of programming has also expanded. Historically, Indigenous people were relegated to the front of the camera, disconnected from their narrative and agency. As Indigenous artists began to occupy more spaces and started to advocate for narrative sovereignty, they began laying claim to film and media as tools to tell their stories.

The community of Indigenous artists featured at imagineNATIVE comes from nations of oral storytellers. Our hope is that they will inspire and connect communities.

Could you talk about the festival’s presentation strategy and practices?: Our presentation strategies shift to fit the story and the context. We have presented works in traditional cinemas, in natural and urban settings that integrate the landscape into the viewing experience, and in traditional or unexpected exhibition spaces.

Our main presentation space for our festival is the TIFF Bell Lightbox, in downtown Toronto, with our Opening Gala at the Hot Docs Cinema. We present six full days of artistic and industry-related programming with an average of 150 works created by over a hundred Indigenous artists representing approximately fifty nations. It is a wonderful gathering and celebration of nations and narratives beyond borders.

I see us continuing to evolve our presentation practices to elevate and respect Indigenous artists’ integrity and intention, their artistic visions, and their perspectives.

Since Atanarjuat: The Fast Runner won the Camera d’Or prize at Cannes in 2001, we’ve seen a steady rise of consciousness about Indigenous cinema around the world. I know imagineNATIVE recently formed partnerships with both Netflix and the Berlinale, and this spring saw the launch of the first North American broadcast TV network show cocreated by a Native showrunner (Rutherford Falls). Could you tell us what role imagineNATIVE has played in this greater visibility for Indigenous film/media?: Twenty years ago, imagineNATIVE created space when there wasn’t one for Indigenous artists and filmmakers. From there, we have grown exponentially, celebrating Indigenous narratives and advocating for inclusion, equity, and cultural and intellectual rights.

Today, imagineNATIVE presents the world’s largest Indigenous film festival; an annual tour, focused on reconciliation, that brings Indigenous-made film and video works to communities across Turtle Island [for some Indigenous peoples, Turtle Island refers to the continent of North America]; and a robust Institute program that houses year-round professional development programs for Indigenous artists. It is helping build a global digital and interactive community.

The festival is unique in the arts landscape and currently has no direct parallel in Canada or abroad. Our role in the local arts ecology is as an established presenter that has made an indelible impact on other festivals, including TIFF and Hot Docs, who now routinely and actively seek Indigenous-made films in a way they didn’t before. In 2019, we were honored to be acknowledged as an Oscar-qualifying festival for the short-format live-action program. ImagineNATIVE is the first and only Indigenous festival to receive this honor from the Academy.

What are some of the challenges facing Indigenous cinema at this moment?: Some of the major challenges for Indigenous artists or cinema are funding, intellectual property, and narrative sovereignty. Funding will always be an ongoing issue. I think it needs to be considered with a holistic approach that includes reparations. Cultural and intellectual property found within Indigenous stories needs to be respected and valued, and projects need to be Indigenous-led. Certainly there are more opportunities right now, and inclusion is growing, but Indigenous people are still forced to seek equity within the larger systems built from colonial frameworks and values.

Our goal is to continue the work toward narrative sovereignty. We need more Indigenous inclusion when it comes to decision-making for programming, juries, and curating at all levels of presentation spaces. And more importantly, a variety of voices—not one Indigenous person can speak for all nations. At this moment, Indigenous artists should be given the freedom to create full and holistic projects, characters, and stories—audiences are ready for them.

Image courtesy of imagineNATIVE

ImagineNATIVE Cinema: A Conversation with Niki Little

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