"Reservation Dogs" is getting high marks for being the first major TV series to be entirely directed and written by Indigenous people. But don't tune in just because of that; watch because it's funny.
The show, now streaming on Hulu, features a group of teenagers willing to hock meat pies and steal a truck stocked with hot chips in their ongoing effort to raise enough money to bust out of their rural Oklahoma town.
Along the way, they cross paths with a gang that mows down their rivals with paintball guns, a reservation officer addicted to energy drinks and a distant uncle who gets stoned more than Willie Nelson. There's also a guardian angel of sorts, a ghost warrior who died in the Battle of Little Big Horn after his horse tripped over a gopher hole.
"There was a time when content about Indigenous people had to be depressing," said co-creator Taika Waititi, who won an Oscar last year for writing "Jojo Rabbit." "For a long time, people only wanted to see us riding whales, talking to trees, playing flutes on mountaintops and learning something from our grandmother. And that's it. That's all they expected. To twist those expectations is a powerful thing."
Waititi teamed up with longtime friend Sterlin Harjo, who based much of the show's premise on his own upbringing in rural Oklahoma. He sprinkles in plenty of references to the films he grew up on, including "Friday," "Stand by Me" and "The Goonies." One of the teenagers is even named after a character from "Willow." But he was also determined to send up Native American stereotypes without crossing the line into ridicule.
"Non‑Natives are always afraid to laugh at Native things because they've been trained so hard to see us with earnestness and act like we are precious," Harjo said. "You have to kind of give them permission to laugh and say, 'We are funny people, too.' "
The actors will be mostly unfamiliar to viewers, with the exception of "MADtv" veteran Bobby Lee, playing a doctor who appears to have blanked on the Hippocratic oath. Casting meant going to reservations across North America to sniff out prospects.
"The talent is there. It just doesn't happen to be on Hollywood Boulevard," Harjo said at a news conference this month. "Hollywood makes a western every few years where Native actors get killed in front of a camp. It's just not the most exciting work. So they are not in L.A. beating down the door, trying to get these parts. You have to go to their communities to find them."
