The documentary Wilfred Buck dances between the past and present, between the earthly and the celestial. It traces the journey of Cree astronomer Wilfred Buck from the Opaskwayak Cree Nation in northern Manitoba as he overcomes the demons of his youth to reclaim ancestral knowledge of the cosmos.
Created by acclaimed Anishinaabe filmmaker Lisa Jackson, the film took inspiration from Buck’s memoir, I Have Lived Four Lives. Jackson described “these crazy stories” of his younger life as “a lot of sadness and difficulty.” Nonetheless, she instantly imagined a film adaptation – snapshots of his tales from the 1970s – with rock and roll pounding in the background.
Indeed, this hybrid documentary is full of grainy re-enactments of Buck’s childhood as well as archival footage from the National Film Board. They paint a picture of an upbringing marred by loss, displacement and racism.
In voiceover narration using snippets of Buck’s memoir, we learn how the trauma of colonization led the young Buck down a path of addiction. Eventually, by reconnecting with his Indigenous heritage, he breaks this pattern of self-destruction and becomes a guiding figure in his community. Footage of his current life as a respected Elder and educator reveal a man with ties to both the stars and the spirits.
Buck left school as a teenager, before finishing his education as an adult. He earned two degrees from the University of Manitoba and made a name for himself as an expert on both Indigenous and Western astronomy. For 25 years, he has taught students ranging from kindergarten to university level. After a childhood alienated from spiritual practices though harsh Catholic teachings, he has become a Cree ceremonial leader.
Throughout the film, Buck emphasizes the value of uncertainty in education. Referring to ceremonies as a way to surrender control, the film suggests that rituals allow people to empty the mind for new information.
Humility is required, in his worldview, to leave the door open for growth. The arrogance of certainty – of being sure there is nothing left to change, and nothing more to learn – leaves people unable to evolve. “We have to keep our minds empty for new possibilities and be aware that there’s other things out there other than what we see with our set of blinders on.”
Buck views Western science as “anything that can be measured,” but adds that there may be more to reality. He treats dreams as a land of possibilities: “Everything in our reality right now was at one point a dream. And it’s that process of following that dream and making it a reality.”
For Buck, Indigenous science “is holistic and integrated and connects with energy and is interdependent. Indigenous cultures all over the world understand that everything is connected. Everything is intertwined. Everything has repercussions. Everything has reverberations. Everything has ripples, and everything has responsibilities, and they’re all tied together.”
By neglecting this integrated perspective, science can be “used to create a lot of harm.” Buck treats ethics and scientific study as inextricably linked. He believes in the accountability of the impact of science – on animals, the environment and one another.
In striving to educate his community about astronomy, Buck reminds them of their ancestral links to the cosmos. He says that when you go out at night, and feel that “awe” of stars, you are reminded that “we’re connected to everything around us.” He concludes that “we’re responsible for occupying the space at this time, at this place,” and that “the way we leave it is what we leave for the people that are coming after us.”
Jackson, for her part, conceived this documentary as a dialogue between Western and Indigenous science. She credits Western science for its ability to break topics down and comprehend the minutiae of the universe. Likewise, she credits Indigenous science for exploring the big picture.
Jackson characterizes the Western approach as “science over here, and then stories and poetry over there.”
However, she adds, “To me, Indigenous storytelling is a methodology of knowledge transmission. It is a story, and the story has so much knowledge, and you can’t separate those things.”
Jackson cites the constellation of a sturgeon as a powerful metaphor for the themes in her film. She points out that sturgeons are “ancient creatures” that have been around “since the dinosaurs” and survived “all these mass extinction events.”
She goes on to say that “It’s an amazing metaphor for Indigenous people and cultural practices and knowledge.” Jackson characterizes sturgeon as being low in the water, and up in the star constellations. Ever-present, tangled up, transcending time and space.
These heady concepts lead to the most abstract and haunting visuals in Jackson’s film. For example, several scenes show extreme closeups of a glittering meteorite.
Jackson recalls seeing a still image of one and comparing it to a stained-glass window. She says that when the meteorite is sliced very thin, a phenomenon called “cross-polarized light” can occur. Brown or grey rock can suddenly take on “unbelievable colours.”
She was struck by the unexpected notion that a “plain and basic” rock can produce an “incredible rainbow.” Jackson describes the meteorite as “in some ways a scientific specimen,” while emphasizing the need to see “the beauty, and the poetry of everything it contains.”
Western logistics, Indigenous insight.