Marie Clements Directs How We Stand Examining Indigenous History Through Generational Trauma At TIFF

Following her ambitious generational epic Bones of Crows, which investigated the profound and lingering traumatic impacts of Canada’s residential school system, acclaimed writer and director Marie Clements returns with another deeply piercing cinematic exploration of hidden, violent sociopolitical chapters in recent Indigenous history. Her latest feature, How We Stand, made its world premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF), capturing critical attention for its unflinching look at institutionalized racism, forced displacement, and systemic erasure through a profoundly intimate narrative lens.

While seeking U.S. distribution following its high-profile festival debut, the film expands upon the thematic groundwork laid in Clements’ previous works. By grounding historical atrocities in the fractured lives of three orphaned sisters, How We Stand bridges multiple decades of North American policy, tracing the destructive threads of government-sanctioned programs from post-Dust Bowl Oklahoma to urban 1970s Los Angeles.

Chronology of Trauma: From Oklahoma to Los Angeles

The narrative foundation of How We Stand spans critical decades of federal Indigenous policy in the United States, utilizing a meticulous chronology to connect mid-century displacement schemes with the civil rights struggles of the 1970s. The film opens in post-Dust Bowl Oklahoma during the 1950s, a bleak landscape visually reminiscent of John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath. Here, three young sisters—Jessie, portrayed by Amber Midthunder; Miranda, played by Alyssa Wapanatâhk; and Janey, played by Isabel DeRoy-Olson—live with their mother, Angela, brought to life by Cara Jade Myers. With their father presumed killed during World War II, the family exists in severe economic precarity.

Seeking a viable path forward, Angela responds to promotional materials distributed under the federally backed Indian Relocation Act of 1956. This legislative initiative actively encouraged Native Americans to leave their ancestral tribal lands for major urban centers by promising vocational training, guaranteed employment, and housing assistance. In reality, the program routinely failed to deliver on these promises, leaving thousands of Indigenous individuals stranded in urban environments without institutional safety nets or community support systems.

Upon arriving in Los Angeles, Angela and her daughters discover that the promised housing consists of a single room in a dilapidated shack, supplemented by a single month of rent assistance and zero employment prospects. The tragedy escalates during a secret underground community gathering in the culverts of the Los Angeles River—a location carrying its own rich cinematic history in Hollywood crime dramas. The event is raided by local law enforcement, resulting in Angela’s violent death and the subsequent separation of the young sisters into the foster care system.

The narrative then leaps forward to 1973, presenting the sisters as grown women navigating a hostile socio-political climate defined by casual and institutional racism during the height of the American Indian Movement era.

Character Arcs and Societal Parallels

In 1973 Los Angeles, the adult sisters have diverged onto drastically different paths, each reflecting a distinct survival strategy against the backdrop of systemic oppression. Jessie, adopted by a white Canadian couple, has striven for total assimilation into mainstream white society. Now a medical doctor beginning her residency at a free women’s clinic run by her white husband, Daniel (Darren Mann), Jessie’s carefully constructed professional armor begins to fracture under the weight of microaggressions. Her vulnerability is exposed when clinical staff and her husband’s affluent parents display overt cultural detachment and racial condescension, forcing Jessie to confront her suppressed identity.

Meanwhile, Miranda has embraced political activism. Her journey intersects with the entertainment industry when she auditions for a Western film directed by Bob Stills (Eric Johnson). Stills represents a pervasive Hollywood archetype: a filmmaker obsessed with Native culture who simultaneously profits from producing profoundly racist cinematic depictions, such as fictional features titled The White Man’s Revenge and The White Cowboy Hat. Through Stills, the film critiques how classic Hollywood shaped public consciousness by dehumanizing Indigenous populations through persistent cinematic tropes.

The youngest sister, Janey, bears the most visible scars of the systemic violence inflicted upon her family. Having survived an unknown medical trauma during her time in the foster system, Janey experiences profound psychological distress. Her storyline weaves through encounters with a police psychiatrist, portrayed by Gil Billows, who maintains a private "Indian room" filled with historical artifacts collected by his ancestors during the era of the American Indian Wars. This setting serves as a potent metaphor for the commodification and sanitization of Indigenous history by academic and medical institutions.

Historical Context and Institutional Policies

How We Stand utilizes its dramatic narrative to shed light on specific, underexplored historical injustices carried out by federal and state agencies during the mid-20th century. Chief among these is the devastating impact of the Indian Relocation Act of 1956. Historians note that while the policy was publicly framed as an economic opportunity initiative aimed at assimilation and modernization, it effectively severed tribal connections, stripped participants of community support, and concentrated Indigenous populations into urban poverty pockets where they faced severe discrimination.

Furthermore, the film tackles the mass sterilization of Native American women, which occurred largely without informed consent between 1970 and 1976. Carried out primarily through federally funded Indian Health Service (IHS) facilities and private clinics, investigative reports and contemporary activism revealed that thousands of Indigenous women were sterilized under coercion or deception. By placing Jessie within a medical environment adjacent to these practices, Clements highlights the historical complicity of the medical establishment in executing eugenics-oriented policies against marginalized populations.

The inclusion of Hollywood’s historical culpability further grounds the film in socio-political reality. For decades, the American film industry functioned as a primary propaganda tool for Manifest Destiny, routinely casting Native Americans as flat, antagonistic obstacles to westward expansion. The conversations between Miranda and director Bob Stills directly interrogate the cognitive dissonance required by creators who consume Indigenous aesthetics while erasing or vilifying actual Indigenous humanity.

Cast Performances and Stylistic Choices

Clements’ directorial approach blends gritty historical realism with elements of magical realism. The film’s visual language frequently shifts into surrealist territory, particularly during sequences where Janey confronts the physical and psychological manifestations stored within the psychiatrist’s artifact-laden "Indian room." These stylistic choices allow the characters to reclaim agency over spaces that have historically cataloged and reduced their cultures to static museum pieces.

Performances anchor the ambitious narrative structure. Amber Midthunder delivers a controlled, internal performance as Jessie, utilizing subtle expressions to convey the psychological toll of forced assimilation. Alyssa Wapanatâhk portrays Miranda with a complex blend of hardened resilience and vulnerable exposure, effectively communicating the friction of a life shaped by institutional displacement. Isabel DeRoy-Olson undertakes the demanding role of Janey, executing a difficult transition from acute trauma and disorientation to empowered confrontation during the film’s climactic sequences.

While critics have noted that certain passages occasionally lean into didactic dialogue and heightened melodrama, the overarching emotional resonance is sustained by the strength of the ensemble cast and the urgency of the subject matter.

Broader Impact and Implications

How We Stand arrives at a pivotal moment in contemporary cinema, coinciding with an increased demand for authentic Indigenous storytelling and historical accountability on screen. Following the critical success of related documentary and narrative projects—such as the National Geographic documentary Sugarcane, which investigated abuses at Canadian residential schools—Clements’ latest feature contributes significantly to a broader cultural reckoning regarding state-sponsored violence against Indigenous communities in North America.

By refusing to separate historical policy from personal narrative, the film illustrates how legislative acts like the Relocation Act and systemic practices like forced sterilization ripple across generations, fracturing familial bonds and cultural continuity. As the film seeks U.S. distribution following its TIFF premiere, its primary implication lies in its challenge to mainstream audiences and cultural institutions alike: to confront the uncomfortable realities of historical erasure and recognize the persistent echoes of colonial policies in modern society.