After ten short documentaries predicated on indigenous languages and Native American heritage, Portland-based filmmaker Sky Hopinka’s feature debut left me flummoxed. It’s hard to recall the last time a film made such a disconnect. Hopinka’s camera follows friends Sweetwater Sahme and Jordan Mercier as they rove through the backwoods of the Pacific Northwest and each other’s lives. The filmmaker’s clash between intent and execution does not work in our favor. Two minutes spent shooting out the back window of a moving car or staring into a firepit for so long you’d swear you were watching a Christmas Yule Log video contribute to an overall sense of florid self-indulgence. When asked why he wears his hair long, Jordan goes full talking head, linking his locks to his heritage (though never saying why) and referencing the feelings of Samson-like strength it provides. Dick Clark gleaned more from grilling teenagers on American Bandstand. When Sweetwater speaks English, Chinuk Wawa subtitles flash across the bottom of the screen. Asking audiences to ponder which is her native tongue might not have come across so gimmicky had every English-speaking participant in the film been closed-captioned. And while I’m all for experimental filmmaking, there are long passages contained herein that feel like home movies. Watching this made me feel like a character in a Bunuel film. Rather than being unable to leave the party, I stood on the porch, watching through the living room window, never once gaining entry. (2020) — Scott Marks