Friday Picks: Oct 30, 2020

Blood Quantum

When virus that turns people into zombies starts spreading across the globe, residents of the isolated Mi’gmaq reserve of Red Crow realize they are immune. As the rest of the world descends into chaos, Traylor (Michael Greyeyes), the reservation’s sheriff, must protect his family, community and reserve from the zombies—and outsiders.

Why we chose it:

Halloween is almost here, which means we’re thinking about horror movies. But for this month’s Friday Pick, we aren’t just looking for a classic scare—we wanted to discuss a story with meaning behind it, and Blood Quantum more than fits the bill. The movie is a smart and scary look at Canada’s history of colonial violence (the term ‘blood quantum’ refers to the system governments used to determine someone’s Indigenous status), and it feels particularly timely in light of the global pandemic. Horror movies often utilize racist stereotypes about Indigenous people, but here those tropes are cleverly subverted. All of which is to say, there’s lots to talk about with this one.

1. What does Blood Quantum say about the dynamic between settlers on Turtle Island and the Indigenous communities that have lived here for thousands of years?

2. In this movie, Indigenous people are immune to a horrible virus that turns people into zombies. Does the COVID-19 pandemic change how you feel about the premise? Does the knowledge that Indigenous communities are using traditional knowledge and practices to flatten the curve?

3. There aren’t many Indigenous horror films, but some tropes—like “ancient Indian burial grounds”—are horror mainstays. How does Blood Quantum subvert racist portrayals of Indigenous people?

4. The movie includes dysfunctional families and substance abuse. How does Barnaby handle these topics? Does his treatment differ from the way non-Indigenous filmmakers represent Indigenous characters on-screen?

5. In a August 2020 New York Times article about the way Indigenous authors are reshaping sci-fi, author Stephen Graham Jones says, “In the slasher story, wrong is punished. The intent is to rebalance the world, and the world we live in is not like that.” At the end of Blood Quantum, have historical wrongs been punished?

6. What does Blood Quantum say about reconciliation (if anything)?

About the DIRECTOR:

Want more Indigenous horror? Here are some articles, books and podcasts that we recommend.

Moon of the Crusted Snow by Waubgeshig Rice

With winter looming, a small northern Anishinaabe community goes dark. Cut off, people become passive and confused. Panic builds as the food supply dwindles. While the band council and a pocket of community members struggle to maintain order, an unexpected visitor arrives, escaping the crumbling society to the south. Soon after, others follow.

The community leadership loses its grip on power as the visitors manipulate the tired and hungry to take control of the reserve. Tensions rise and, as the months pass, so does the death toll due to sickness and despair. Frustrated by the building chaos, a group of young friends and their families turn to the land and Anishinaabe tradition in hopes of helping their community thrive again. Guided through the chaos by an unlikely leader named Evan Whitesky, they endeavor to restore order while grappling with a grave decision.

Blending action and allegory, Moon of the Crusted Snow upends our expectations. Out of catastrophe comes resilience. And as one society collapses, another is reborn.

The Rise of Indigenous Horror: How a Fiction Genre is Confronting a Monstrous Reality

In a 2019 article for CBC Arts, writer Alicia Elliott digs into the difference between an Indigenous approach to horror and the mainstream settler approach. “It's remarkable to consider that many non-Indigenous horror writers depict situations that Indigenous people have already weathered—such as apocalyptic viral outbreaks that decimate whole populations—or use the history of genocidal violence against us to explain why innocent white folks are being haunted today, such as in Stephen King's It or the 1982 film Poltergeist,” she writes. “In fact, I'm not sure what scares non-Indigenous horror writers and readers more: experiencing variations of what Indigenous folks have already endured for centuries, or the reality that they have built their entire country on literal Indian burial grounds.”

Empire of Wild by Cherie Dimaline

Broken-hearted Joan has been searching for her husband, Victor, for almost a year—ever since he went missing on the night they had their first serious argument. One hung-over morning in a Walmart parking lot in a little town near Georgian Bay, she is drawn to a revival tent where the local Métis have been flocking to hear a charismatic preacher. By the time she staggers into the tent the service is over, but as she is about to leave, she hears an unmistakable voice. She turns, and there is Victor. Only he insists he is not Victor, but the Reverend Eugene Wolff, on a mission to bring his people to Jesus. And he doesn't seem to be faking: there isn't even a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

Inspired by the traditional Métis story of the Rogarou, a werewolf-like creature that haunts the roads and woods of Métis communities, Cherie Dimaline’s 2019 novel is a scary, readable horror novel that touches on powerful themes, including resource extraction, Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls and land rights.

Taaqtumi: An Anthology of Arctic Horror Stories

“Taaqtumi” is an Inuktitut word that means “in the dark”—and these spine-tingling horror stories by Northern writers show just how dangerous darkness can be. A family clinging to survival out on the tundra after a vicious zombie virus. A door that beckons, waiting to unleash the terror behind it. A post-apocalyptic community in the far North where things aren’t quite what they seem. These chilling tales from award-winning authors Richard Van Camp, Rachel and Sean Qitsualik-Tinsley, Aviaq Johnston, and others will thrill and entertain even the most seasoned horror fan.

The Skiffy and Fanty Show, episode 338: Indigenous Representation in Horror

Jump scares, sacred stories, and contractions, oh my! Darcie Little Badger, Nathan Adler, and Stephen Graham Jones join Shaun Duke and David Annandale to discuss Indigenous Representation in Horror. Our guests share why they enjoy horror, who the real monsters of horror often are, especially given colonial history, what not to do when representing Indigenous stories, the violence inherent in cultural appropriation, and what both brings our guests hope and excites them about the horror genre.

Every cycle, we’re suggesting a charity that aligns with our discussion. In October, we’re donating to the 1492 Land Back Lane Legal Fund, which helps pay legal fees for land defenders from Six Nations of the Grand River, who are occupying a development site in Caledonia that is violating the sovereignty of the Haudenosaunee. If you can donate, please do!

Here’s how each month’s group conversation will work.

Get To Know The Creator (20 mins)

Group Discussion (40 mins)

Where to stream It:

Amazon Prime

Crave