There are approximately 326 federal Native American reservations in the United States, according to the Bureau of Indian Affairs. As stated on the website for Running Strong for American Indian Youth, a nonprofit organization supporting Native Americans by meeting critical needs and empowering future leaders, “these lands are home to sovereign tribal nations that have a distinct political and legal relationship with the United States, established through treaties, federal law, and a complicated history.” That history includes systemic dispossession, forced relocation and broken treaties, as well as more recent developments in reviving tribal sovereignty, cultural visibility and self-determination.
Despite progress, Indigenous populations stiil experience significantly higher rates of poverty, healthcare disparities, and violent crime. Running Strong for American Indian Youth explains: “Reservations were not created to empower Native people; they were the result of centuries of forced displacement and restrictive federal policy. This legacy set the stage for long-term socioeconomic barriers, many of which persist today.”
Not everyone can visit a Native American reservation, to explore the community’s pride and strength and to see the nature of the challenges that remain. For many, the only glimpse of that world comes through representation in literature, film and television — and, let’s be honest: those depictions haven’t always been very accurate, have they?
“Gangland,” a new crime drama directed by Vincent Grashaw, is set on a troubled Native American reservation. Grashaw delivers a gritty, unflinching exploration of a fragmented community beset by various predatory opportunists and degenerates. Here, even the good guys have closets full of skeletons. In fact, there is so much at play in “Gangland” that Grashaw sometimes loses sight of the story he’s telling.
The film follows Teddy Sharpe (Lou Diamond Phillips), a cop with the Thunderstone Tribal Police Department. Sharpe is blunt and often tactless, but he is clearly committed to protecting the residents of the reservation. At the beginning of the film, he meets his new partner, Sandra Scala (Dana Namerode), who left her job as a police officer in a big city after an inconvenient incident involving her boyfriend and her father and some dope filched from an evidence locker. Sandra is a by-the-book kind of cop, and Teddy clearly feels the need to show her that police procedure is different on the reservation.
Except that crime is crime, no matter where it happens.
Richie Blacklance (Elisha Pratt) is the film’s antagonist. After serving time at a federal penitentiary, he arrives back in Thunderstone after committing a few brutal murders along the way. As the official synopsis reads, “old wounds resurface, and Teddy is forced to face his past in hopes of finding redemption and ending a cycle of violence plaguing the community.”
As the name of the film implies, the story involves rival gangs operating within the borders of the Thunderstone reservation, controlling the distribution of illicit drugs and dispensing eye-for-an-eye street justice as necessary. Again, Grashaw teases the backstory here, giving the viewer a glimpse at generational animosity and disappointment with broken promises and lack of investment in the community. The story certainly reflects a sobering reality: Within some tribal communities, the core of the gang problem can often be found within individual family dynamics.
In his study “Native American Involvement in the Gang Subculture: Current Trends and Dynamics” for the National Criminal Justice Reference Service, Christopher M. Grant wrote: “The multiple tribal community gang assessments I’ve conducted over the years consistently reveal that a significant degree of the gang activity occurring in Indian Country has a family nexus, in that certain tribal gangs are merely an extension or manifestation of long-standing problems between tribal familial groups.”
As an added spark to ignite the powder keg in “Gangland,” the script introduces a sexual abuse scandal that involved someone Teddy brought to the reservation. Although it happened several years earlier, the repercussions continue to impair Teddy’s ability to communicate effectively with the Native American youth on the reservation and steer them clear of gang involvement.
Lou Diamond Phillips is outstanding as a damaged guardian of a shattered community, fighting what seems like a losing battle. He offers the only shimmer of hope in an otherwise nihilistic endeavor. Nick Stahl gives a solid performance as a racist, anxious deputy from an adjacent county. He makes that character appropriately unpleasant, and interesting enough that it’s a shame we never learn more about his backstory.
That’s the biggest issue: Grashaw tried to shove too many stories into one tidy box. “Gangland” clocks in at 104 minutes, and the ending feels a little abrupt and austere. Too many characters give long-winded speeches about things that aren’t necessarily relevant to the narrative. I know Grashaw is trying to convey certain messages — and I respect him for that — but some of the tangential elements of this story could have been developed into separate, standalone films. Grashaw could have narrowed his focus some, putting more emphasis on the socioeconomic factors that contribute to criminal behavior.
Aside from an excess of interesting and pertinent concepts, “Gangland” is a taut, evocative crime drama that effectively showcases Indigenous talent, both in front of and behind the camera.
Lee Clark Zumpe is entertainment editor at Tampa Bay Newspapers, a Tomatometer-Approved Critic, and an author of short fiction. He can be reached by email at lzumpe@TBNweekly.com.