Benny (Keir Tallman) is a city kid: a proud San Diego resident who loves action figures and Fleetwood Mac, and who can speak with nonchalant ease about the benefits of an annual pass to Sea World. So when his parents — including his beloved mother (Owee Rae), the very same person who encourages his Fleetwood Mac-based dancing and soap opera-esque action figure playing! — decide to send Benny to his grandmother’s house on an out-of-state Navajo reservation for the summer, he’s rightly put out. And when he finally arrives at the local bus depot (neat, dusty, isolate), the plucky 11-year-old turns right back around and tries to zoom promptly back to San Diego.
But, as becomes a constant theme throughout Billy Luther’s winning first narrative feature “Frybread Face and Me,” Benny’s family is there to catch him, whether he likes it or not. Set in 1990, and smacking of period details that never feel over the top (a Walkman here, a VHS player there, endless chatter about Fleetwood Mac’s current tour), Luther’s film may be built on his own coming of age (the filmmaker wrote and directed the film, and narrates it as an elder Benny, “Wonder Years”-style), but there’s both specificity and universality to this story, something for everyone who was ever a kid, Native or not, to connect with.
That doesn’t mean that the film’s heart — as the work of a Native American filmmaker who is part of the Navajo, Hopi, and Laguna Pueblo tribes — is at all diminished. Luther’s film adds to a growing body of Native- and Indigenous-focused screen work, including everything from “Reservation Dogs” (the projects even share a producer in Taika Waititi) to “Dark Winds” and “Prey,” all of which continue to raise the profile of thrilling new talents. And while Luther has been steadily working for years, including in the documentary space and TV, “Frybread Face and Me” centers on a pair of totally fresh stars: Tallman and Charley Hogan (as the titular “Frybread Face,” Benny’s cousin, Dawn), who both make their feature debuts with the film.
When Benny arrives at his grandmother’s (Sarah H. Natani), he’s far from the only family member spending the summer there, including tough-as-nails Uncle Marvin (Martin Sensmeier) and, eventually, Dawn, whose mother frequently drops her off for weeks at a time. That the film would focus on the cousins and their bond isn’t a surprise — it is, after all, right there in the title — Luther still pulls unexpected performances from his young stars. And while both Tallman and Hogan turn in work that is strong enough to lead an entire film, it’s Hogan in particular who really stands out, carrying Dawn’s dual (and sometimes, dueling) immaturity and world-weariness with gravitas.
Despite their differences — Dawn is steeped in Navajo culture, Benny spends most of his time planning his escape back to San Diego — the two youngsters can’t help but love each other. They find common ground as they huff and puff (and, heck, maybe even have some fun) through this pivotal summer. It all comes to a head during a particularly funny and well-crafted sequence in which the duo go after a wayward family sheep by way of a slow-speed car chase, cementing both their bond and the film’s coming-of-age comedy bonafides.
Though the film occasionally lags when it comes to bigger set pieces (a rodeo that Marvin anticipates, a subplot about another aunt and uncle with serious attitude), Luther excels when it comes to the little details, the tiny touches that make “Frybread Face and Me” feel pulled directly from Luther’s own (and our own?) childhood memories, from Dawn’s beloved Cabbage Patch Kid (stitched together from a white head her mom bought, and a darker body she made, a hilarious attempt at giving her a Navajo toy) to the fam’s single working VHS tape (the Jeff Bridges-starring John Carpenter-directed curiosity “Starman”) and even the unexpectedly funny revelation that grandma doesn’t own a blender (which pops up in a scene that serves as a perfect showcase for Luther’s ability to blend pain and humor).
Steadily, Luther and his film build to more emotional ends, including the reason why Benny was really sent to the rez (with a gut-punch of a reaction from Tallman) and a tragedy-influenced revelation about the provenance of the family dog. And Luther’s own narration, which keeps a calm reserve throughout most of the film, eases into something a bit more melancholic, hinting at adult concerns to come, as both Benny and his audience grow into who (and what) they might become.
Grade: B
Netflix and ARRAY Releasing’s “Frybread Face and Me” will be available in limited theaters and streaming on Netflix on Friday, November 24.
