At a time where love stories come a dime a dozen, it’s almost a tall order to make the audience care for a romance story that doesn’t regurgitate older films that frankly did the stories better. An Indigenous love story is no different; and with “Stellar,” Anishinaabe director Darlene Naponse’s latest film, we have in our hands a dreamy Indigenous love story that touches upon the power of human connection in a visual, experimental, and poetic way unlike any other film this 2022.
To set up the whole film, “Stellar” begins with a story, followed by a sacred story.
1.8 billion years ago a meteorite hit the Earth in what is now Northern Ontario, Canada. Its impact was felt globally. In its wake, one of the world’s largest supplies of nickel and copper ores were formed on its outer rim.
From the sky it came, Mother Earth willfully split the ground beneath the lake. Serpents swam again in this world. She and He braided in the rift.
The film introduces us to She and He (Elle-Máijá Tailfeathers and Braeden Clarke), who seek shelter in a Northern Ontario dive bar one night as the world descends into chaos. Interestingly, the bar serves as their refuge; for some reason, inside the bar, She and He are unscathed by the massive wildfires and flooding outside. As the establishment seemingly protects them, the bar’s window serves as their screen as they see one natural catastrophe after the other.
The Power of Human Connection Playing like Poetry in Motion
What’s more interesting is that “Stellar” zeroes in on the power of the characters’ touch. It has minimal dialogue, and when the characters speak, they do so in spurts; waxing poetic and philosophical as they muse about life in the cosmos. And when they touch? A single touch between them sets off a powerful connection.
Really: He and She accidentally touch and a meteorite blasts through the atmosphere.
Naponse and cinematographer Mathieu Séguin interweave each attempt at human touch with scenes of nature—both in its unadulterated and exploited states—to contextualize the connection between the characters’ flirtation and the cosmic events.
Séguin’s work here alternates between breathtaking and awe-inspiring, sometimes at the same time. He uses long-tracking, steady shots for nature scenes, and shaky camerawork for human interactions. With this approach, the filmmakers seem to relish showing a tentativeness in human connection, so much that sometimes it elicits feelings of unease in latent tension.
A scene from “Stellar” starring Elle-Máijá Tailfeathers and Braeden Clarke (Photo: Baswewe Films, 2022).
Juxtapositions of Industrialization to Highlight Historical Trauma Formed by Colonization
As an experimental film, “Stellar” works around the historical research of a meteorite hitting the area of the Atikameksheng Anishnawbek territory 1.8 billion years ago, forming one of the largest iron ore deposits in the world. This opportunity, history showed, was taken away from the Indigenous people as colonizers approached and took the land as their own.
To shed light on this history, Naponse employs a sense of community and the natural world; tapping into the Indigenous knowledge and way of life through the interactions between the protagonists as a way to show how their shared skies can pave the way toward healing. And given their connection to the land, their healing means the land’s, too.
‘Stellar’: The Importance of Telling Stories About, Not Only Love, But Also Life
Sure, “Stellar” follows the familiar trope of ‘boy meets girl and they spend a whole night together’. But for what it’s worth, what sets it apart from mediocre romantic films that use the same plot device is how audacious it is. The indigeneity remains intact here, with Naponse electing not to use subtitles in key scenes. Instead, she relies on the universality of emotions; regardless of whether words are spoken in English, Ojibwe, or something else.
The Indigenous sensibility also takes centerstage, with cosmic musings dominating the characters’ conversations. The characters speak in poetic spurts as they relate different stories about themselves and where they’re from. Numerous people enter and leave the bar, striking up conversations with the lead characters about life and existence. One man refers to the impending end of the world as “cyclic,” and a “constant regeneration.”
You wouldn’t normally hear those phrases in a straightforward romantic film.
A scene from “Stellar” (Photo: Baswewe Films, 2022).
Additional Talking Points: Middling Visuals, Nuanced Performances
Naponse’s story also gets a boost from the visuals, which play a key role given the premise of the whole film. Frankly, “Stellar’s” visuals might be the weakest link here. Nonetheless, they have a middling quality to them that’s oddly endearing. At times the film looks like a patchwork of half-baked visuals and meticulous creativity. Thankfully, though, it’s a combination that doesn’t come across as trying too hard.
Finally, the film benefits from its lead actors, Elle-Máijá Tailfeathers and Braeden Clarke; he whose eyes betray a façade of toughness, and she who commands the screen even—and especially—when no words are spoken.
In the beginning of the film, She stares into the camera and says, “Find within the lines of willingness, jetstreams of love.” And midway through the movie, when two bar visitors whom She considers like her family ask She and He, “[Do] you two know your way home?” both She and He don’t respond. However, the two visitors already have an idea what their answer is.
But more importantly, we as the audience already know, too.
“Stellar” was among the Contemporary World Cinema selections for this year’s Toronto International Film Festival.
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