Documentaries often, and understandably so, stick to a talking head format to get their message across. While it can become cliche, talking heads and narrators help to move the information along, adding key details and context to help the viewer fully comprehend. Sugarcane, the new documentary from National Geographic, is remarkable in its embracement of the silence.
Sugarcane tells the horrific tale of the Canadian Indian residential school system. With assimilation at top of mind, native children were sent to these catholic boarding schools as a way to “wipe away” their culture. Not only did these schools try to diminish their culture and sense of self, but the leadership in charge were also committing sexual assault and infanticide in droves. The St. Joseph’s Mission, one of these boarding schools, is specifically featured as we are introduced to former students and individuals born at the facility.
Instead of having these individuals sit against a plain backdrop and talk about their experiences, directors Julian Brave NoiseCat and Emily Kassie instead choose to just quietly follow. Whether it’s those trying to actively investigate the disappearance of hundreds of children, a former elected chief trying to receive real answers from the Catholic church, or a father trying to find out the origins of his birth on the mission, all of these individuals are given the space to grieve and sit in their silence.
Silence is essential in this beautiful piece of filmmaking. The atrocities mentioned are systematic and, for a culture that prides itself on community, they seep into the fiber of bloodlines. Numerous shots during the runtime sit on the faces of those affected, watching the decades of oppression wade through their eyes. It’s at once heartbreaking and hopeful, seeing their resilience. Yet, the resilience is immediately juxtaposed with the knowledge of the native suicide rates, especially with those who attended these schools. For every sliver of hope, there’s a necessary dose of reality.
That’s not to say you leave the film wallowing in sadness. Every individual shown is allowed to be human. For every moment of joy, their pain is equally presented. There’s no sugarcoating. There’s only the yearning to provide a full picture of these human beings.
Rick Gilbert, a former elected chief, has one of the most gut-wrenching moments as he’s invited to be a part of an audience with the Pope at the Vatican. As a group of indigenous individuals make their way to Italy, you can already tell his trepidations. After the Pope shares his vague apologies, Gilbert still feels uneasy. He heads to a parish to speak with a priest about the atrocities he faced as a child within the St. Joseph’s Mission. As he lists off the heinous acts he and his fellow students faced, the priest sits back in horror. Yet, as the vague apologies resurface again, you can tell Gilbert is slowly succumbing to the knowledge that no one will even own up to the unspeakable during his lifetime. It’s gut-wrenching to watch, but necessary.
That’s just it. This is a film that gives its subjects and its viewers the space to fight for what’s right, but also come to terms with the fact that the world we currently live in won’t own up to their atrocities. Even Prime Minister Trudeau makes an appearance and is called out by the Canadian press for showing up for a photo op and nothing more. Luckily, Sugarcane is able to properly explain and confide in those who have been affected by the Indian residential school system. If only the kindness shown in this documentary would be followed by the general public.