Monkey Beach (2020)
(On Cable TV, January 2021) We usually talk about movie formulas as being bad things, but an underappreciated aspect of their nature is that to have a formula, you need to have enough examples of something to distinguish the formula. When it comes to underrepresented kind of cinema, the emergence of a formula can be the sign of a healthy subgenre. So it is that, in between Monkey Beach and near-contemporary The Incredible 25th Year of Mitzi Bearclaw (and the inverse of Through Black Spruce), we have an emerging formula: The young indigenous woman leaving the big city to return to the reserve, where her supernatural powers help untangle family problems, sentimental complications and her own maturation. Monkey Beach has a bigger budget and a literary origin: It’s adapted from Eden Robinson’s well-received novel, can boast of some amazing cinematography and can anchor itself to Adam Beach as a marquee name. Grace Dove is quite good in the lead role, with special mention of Tina Lameman’s performance as guiding elder Ma-Ma-Oo. The BC landscapes are gorgeously portrayed, and director Loretta Todd gives the film a strong atmosphere. Unfortunately, the film struck me as more technically successful but not quite as interesting as The Incredible 25th Year of Mitzi Bearclaw: far more leaden in its messages, not as charmingly odd in its presentation and a bit too serious for its own good, Monkey Beach feels like the staider, po-faced cousin of Mitzi Bearclaw. This being said, I couldn’t be happier that there are no less than two movies poking at the same topic in their own way—First Nations cinema in Canada is still too rare, although I’ve seen no less than six such movies in the past six months now that the airwaves are free to present something other than Hollywood blockbusters during the pandemic void. I really would like to see a third and a fourth example of this “back to the reserve” formula: counter-intuitively, there are representativeness and strength in formula.