Billy Luther’s Frybread Face and Me is more than a coming-of-age story it is also subtly subversive. The film is a profound exploration of a young Benny (Kier Tillman) going to his grandmother’s home to spend the summer. Set against the backdrop of the Navajo Nation in 1990, this 82-minute dramatic-comedy weaves a tender and insightful narrative about family, identity, and the unbreakable Indigenous connection to land and tradition.

 

Benny , a 12-year-old Fleetwood Mac fan from the city, whose world turns upside down when he’s sent to spend the summer on his grandmother’s sheep farm. While initially resistant to life without electricity or running water, Benny’s bond with his cousin Dawn, aka Frybread Face (Charley Hogan), gradually transforms his perspective. Their shared summer becomes a journey of discovery, humor, and connection, teaching Benny—and the audience—the enduring value of family and deep cultural roots.

 

The film’s strength lies in its authentic portrayal of Indigenous life, from the vibrant gossip of aunties to the deep wisdom of a grandmother who embody Navajo traditions. Each frame of the film is lovingly saturated in warm, earthy lighting and simple mise-en-scène that echoes the serenity of the Santa Fe desert. The director Billy Luther, comments, “We could point the camera in all directions and just get this great view with no power lines in sight. So it was special," The cinematography by Peter Simonite beautifully captures the sweeping landscapes of the Southwest, evoking a sense of timelessness that mirrors the film’s themes. The absence of power lines and the simplicity of the set design transport viewers into a world where land and tradition are inseparable.

 

This film is a landmark in the representation of Navajo culture and two-spirit identity, an often-overlooked narrative in mainstream cinema. Benny’s exploration of his gender identity in the safety and acceptance of his family sheds light on the two-spirit tradition, which historically holds a revered place in many Indigenous cultures, including the Navajo. At the same time, the film acknowledges the intergenerational trauma the Navajo people have endured—such as the effects of forced assimilation, boarding schools, and the suppression of cultural traditions—while emphasizing the resilience and beauty of a community determined to thrive. By weaving these elements together, Frybread Face and Me offers a powerful and hopeful portrait of healing and self-discovery.

 

The authentic portrayal of Indigenous life, from the vibrant gossip of aunties to the deep wisdom of a grandmother who embodies Navajo traditions reminds me of my own childhood growing up in Northern California when I was frequently dropped off at my grandmothers’s ranch while my parents worked in the vineyards nearby. It was at my grandmother’s ranch where I learned to care for goats, chickens and other animals. It was especially during the summers spent there where I learned about listening to the stillness of the earth and my grandmothers’s stories. There were also gossipy aunts, prying uncles and mischievous cousins at the ranch. Yet, at the heart of it all were my grandmothers prayers and her deep belief that I could be anything, unlike at school when I was with her I always felt accepted. Just like Benny’s grandmother Lorraine, my grandmother could not speak English nor could she read or write yet she had an impeccable memory and had memorized hundreds of prayers.

 

Benny’s exploration of gender identity adds another layer of depth to the story. His declaration, “I’m just Benny,” when questioned about being a cowboy or cowgirl, underscores the film’s broader message: identity is fluid, personal, and shaped by the love and acceptance of those closest to us. In the pivotal scenes where Luther’s ability to reflect his own experiences growing up as a gay man among strong matriarchs imbues the film with vulnerability and authenticity. The juxtaposition of Benny’s urban upbringing and his immersion in reservation life highlights the tension and harmony between modernity and tradition. Dawn’s teachings of the Navajo language and customs become a lifeline, tethering Benny to a heritage that is not only alive but thriving.

 

Frybread Face and Me is a testament to the importance of Indigenous representation, featuring an all-Native cast and crew and crafted with consummate attention and care by Billy Luther. The film’s distribution by Ava DuVernay’s ARRAY and executive production by Taika Waititi further underscore its significance as a landmark in Indigenous cinema. This film reminds us that the past is never truly gone—it is carried forward in the traditions we honor, the land we protect, and the bonds we nurture. As Benny learns to embrace his family’s way of life, Frybread Face and Me challenges viewers to reflect on their own connections to family, identity, and heritage. It’s a heartfelt reminder that Indigenous traditions are not relics of the past but vital elements of our present and future.

 

Whether you see yourself in Benny’s journey or simply appreciate a beautifully told story, Frybread Face and Me is a film that stays with you, much like the teachings of a grandmother or the laughter shared with a cousin. It’s a cinematic gift that celebrates the enduring power of family, land, and tradition.