This is not a Ceremony

• OFFICIAL SELECTION | Sundance Film Festival, Canada (2022)
• OFFICIAL SELECTION | Tribeca Film Festival, États-Unis (2022)
• OFFICIAL SELECTION | Calgary International Film Festival, Canada (2022)
• OFFICIAL SELECTION | Festival du Nouveau Cinema, Canada
• OFFICIAL SELECTION | imagineNATIVE Film & Media Arts Festival, Canada
• OFFICIAL SELECTION | Vancouver Internation Film Festival, Canada

From the moment I began working on THIS IS NOT A CEREMONY, I knew we had a mission. Working with incredible Indigenous storytellers and top-of-the-line technology, I wanted to create an unforgettable VR experience that would allow audiences to participate in the Blackfoot tradition of bearing witness, to confront some of the darker realities of being an Indigenous person living in Canada.
My goal was to break through the barrier of being the Other and get audiences to feel closer with the Indigenous men portrayed in the film’s two stories of colonial injustice—to create a connection that goes deeper than tragic headlines. I wanted this virtual experience to have more than just audiences: I wanted it to create witnesses.
To engage somebody as a witness is a real responsibility, and it becomes their responsibility to repeat what they’ve seen and heard. The hope is that people will take this knowledge and carry it forward. I think that when people have this knowledge, they feel compelled to do something about it.
I’ve always had an interest in documentary film and the expressive and imaginative ways it can convey real-world issues. For me, virtual reality (VR) was the perfect way to create a story that was both informative and captivating.
It’s so different from just watching a square screen. Your body responds to it. You feel like you experience things. You don’t always have a choice; sometimes you just feel this kind of psychosomatic response. You feel very present and aware.
The whole method of filmmaking had to be rethought in order to record the film in 360 degrees, as the crew could not hide “behind the camera,” so as a result, they had to get creative to record scenes.
Over the project’s development, two cast members tragically passed away: poet Taran Kootenhayoo and Indigenous community leader Lillian Howard. This has been a tremendous loss, personally and for the Indigenous community, and I hope this film can help us honour their memories and the stories they share in presenting, as we watch, experience and bear witness.

Niitsitapi writer and director Ahnahktsipiitaa (Colin Van Loon) takes us beyond the veil of traditional media and transports us directly into another realm, where past, present and future are one; where colonial rules and assumptions are forgotten; and where we can finally get to the truth of the matter.

In this stunning, cinematic VR experience, we’re invited to watch as the narrative unfolds all around us, on a dream-like plane of existence where spirits and time flow and merge, and stories come to life and dance before our eyes. Inside this immersive virtual world, two Indigenous trickster poets in mirrored red suits and long braids guide us on a journey, in which community protocols confront our notions of personal responsibility. The pair’s sharp wit and caustic humour will be familiar to anyone who has spent time in First Nation communities, and their comradery keeps us at ease as we explore some of the darker sides of living life in Canada while Indigenous.

Matriarchs and Inii (buffalo) rule this virtual realm. They pull no punches, yet they lead us with kindness, bringing us face-to-face with some of the grim realities Indigenous Peoples have experienced. We explore the stories of two Indigenous men wounded by the colonial tradition of systemic racism. These stories disrupt the status quo, laying bare the benign cruelty of colonial oppression, and dare to ask, “Now that you know, just what are you going to do about it?”

This unforgettable experience will stay with you long after it’s over. Challenging us to act on what we’ve learned, THIS IS NOT A CEREMONY calls on all who’ve watched to bear witness and share what they’ve seen and heard, to learn from these tragedies—and to never forget.

How did you come to share Adam North Peigan’s and Brian Sinclair’s stories?

Colin: Adam is my relative and as we were talking, I realized that this is a good story. I don’t know if you know much about his professional career, but he does a lot of advocacy around the Sixties Scoop. He was keen to share because of the work he does.

Then the Brian thing was just so horrific that we had to find a way to tell it. We talked to a bunch of different people in the family, then Robert, he says it in the film: ‘I live there in Winnipeg, I have to go to that hospital. My son was in the hospital just before this happened to Brian, and then I have grandchildren and they’re going to go there.’ He wanted to have some impact.
 

What was the inspiration behind the making of THIS IS NOT A CEREMONY?

Colin: There are these things that happen in the news every once in a while, and it’s just dumbfounding, like, how the hell does this happen? How the hell does this man, Brian Sinclair, go to the hospital and die in the waiting room?

With Adam, we just talk about this moment where the social worker knows that this boy [Adam] is being abused. They take him out of the house, they walk him across the yard, as if that would be safer.

Then the poets; I was always close with Taran [who has since passed away] and thought he was brilliant. I thought, if we’re going to do this and we’re going to bring people closer to these people and these stories, why don’t they also witness? Why don’t they witness, and we could see how they feel about it?

 
How does the title, THIS IS NOT A CEREMONY, relate to those stories?

Colin: So we were looking for a title and I was thinking about the impacts of getting somebody to be a witness and what that kind of responsibility is.

At some point it became clear that that was the title, and also, the poets, they said it when they were doing their poems: ‘This is not a ceremony, this is a tradition. And this is Canada’s tradition. This is Canada’s tradition of systematic racism.’

We were going to call it, at one point, Can I Get a Witness?, like James Brown or something: ‘Can I get a witness? Hey.’


What do you hope the audience that watches this film takes away from this message? And who is this film meant to be for?

Colin: I hope that people take their job seriously, their job as a witness. Then I think that this is always for Indigenous people to see, so that they can be aware of these stories, but also, that they can champion these people. That’s why the end is more upbeat. This is also for settlers, Napikwans, like, get your shit together.


Was this film initially made specifically for VR? Or was it a stylistic choice that you made?

Colin: I think it’s both. If you watch this on a different screen, it doesn’t have the same effects. I just think that if we want to get closer to these people and their stories, VR has this power of being present in those moments. You feel like you’re there. I think that if we were to watch Taran and Tawahum doing their spoken-word piece [on a small screen], we just couldn’t feel that in the same way.

When they come up to you and they’re very close to you, it really has an impact on the way you feel as the person viewing it. I want people to feel uncomfortable and I want them to take that uncomfortability and think about it.


Was your first project in VR? And would you do another one like this?

Colin: Yeah, but probably not for a while. I’m going to need a little break. This is the medium for this story, but maybe a different story requires something else.

 
So Dana, maybe talk about your experience working on this film and having to delve into these kinds of stories.

Dana: As a settler, as a white dude who is part of a committee who worked with imagineNATIVE on deciding the potential story… we came across Colin’s, and it was raw but beautiful, you could feel the energy in it. At the time it was called Walk a Mile in My Moccasins. And—

Colin: Such a bad title. That title was never meant to stay.

Dana: But the concept was there, and it was already confronting the idea of what happens when you put someone in a situation in virtual reality? What does it say about virtual reality? What does it say about the story you’re doing? To this day, it’s a little lovely and messy, where there’s no perfect… even in the title, THIS IS NOT A CEREMONY—but it is a ceremony, but it’s not a ceremony, so it bounces back and forth constantly. Virtual reality is always doing that, and so we saw that in Colin’s proposal. Then we met Colin, and it was just like, ‘Oh, man, this is the person to do this with.’
 

What did the participants think of the final piece?

Dana: When we talked with Adam, I think he felt Colin really captured what he’s trying to say and that framing it in this way has given it a nice, new, impactful way of being presented. He’s told this story [before] but it’s not a story that’s been represented this way. We haven’t talked with Robert yet, but he did text me saying he found it very emotional.


Why was it important to have an Indigenous crew working on the film?

Colin: We don’t have enough film crew generally; there are lots of directors, but there’s not a lot of specific crew roles, like editors, colourists, sound designers. There are some people who are okay at a couple of things, but there’s not a lot of people who are really amazing at one thing.

I want to always support that, for both cultural reasons, we need that, so we don’t have to navigate this cultural divide, but selfish reasons also.

Dana: Yeah, it takes from the NFB perspective as well, supporting those crafts, the vast array of people that are needed to make films. We want, just like Colin, talent development and to support as many people as possible.