Namao is sleepy little hamlet with a population of 10. Blink once driving down Highway 37 and you'll miss it.
Not much happens in Namao. So it's no wonder that cars zipping down the highway in front of Sturgeon High School paid little attention to the four white trailers conveniently sitting in the parking lot throughout July and August.
Few realized the placid countryside was a sharp contrast to the organized chaos inside the school where the second season of the Gemini award-winning television series Blackstone was in a full production.
Namao was selected as the ideal location because it is a self-contained community with a small general store, a community hall, school and several close-by acreage houses of varying economic strata that serve as dwellings for varying Blackstone residents.
Inside the school the atmosphere has an electric feel. Thick cables attached to high-powered lights snake through the hallways and about 50 crew members – lighting and sound techs, grips, boom operators, director's assistants, audio visual recorders and makeup artists – set up shot after shot to create the illusionary world of a native reservation.
Certain hallways are blocked off with equipment and the school's front office is temporarily altered into a band office complete with a Blackstone logo. Next to it, a small room serves as a health clinic.
Conceived by Edmonton director/producer/writer Ron E. Scott, founder of Prairie Dog Film + Television, Blackstone was one of the most thought-provoking weekly one-hour dramas to air on APTN in January 2011.
It focuses on the Blackstone First Nation, a reservation in turmoil due to internal corruption, nepotism and mismanagement from its chief and council. The dramatic tension escalates as a new generation of leaders tries to make their voices heard and effect positive change, something that has been a long time coming.
In the first season's nine episodes, Scott tackled the power and politics of reserves and laid out some pretty raw issues that critics labelled as “dark drama.”
Presented completely from the Aboriginal point of view, writers developed the issues with an honest, at times shocking appraisal. The result was a huge leap in perspective. Blackstone focused on strong characters working against common native stereotypes and finally broke the long-standing mould where aboriginal people are threatened from outside forces. In Blackstone, change comes from within.
Clearly passionate about the series, producer Jesse Szymanski says, “We were not afraid to address world issues and we're even more fearless in this season.”
Following the first season's cliffhanger finale, Season 2 picks up after a strip club shooting and keeps probing into the lives of the troubled residents. Although hesitant to divulge too much about upcoming episodes, Szymanski reveals that writers are adapting storylines straight out of news headlines – issues such as missing aboriginal women, toxic water on reserves and foster care.
While the first season was very politically driven, the second season has a lighter tone focusing on character growth.
“The writing is better. There's a shift in relationship issues. It will be more intimate,” says Gemini nominee Carmen Moore, whose character Leona Stoney had lived off the reserve for years. A recovered drug addict and alcoholic, she returns home to Blackstone to bring healing to the community.
Although Moore is one of the leads, she shares a trailer with six other actors. Each has a divided section no bigger than a large pantry that fits a small sofa, makeup table and a tight shower.
The trailer sizes, a minor concern to Moore, tends to reflect the tight budget rather than the outsize enthusiasm of the actors. “There is really a great camaraderie on the set. We deal with such sensitive subjects we have to have a sense of humour and sometimes we go nuts.”
In addition to Moore, the talented ensemble cast features Gemini winner Michelle Thrush, Eric Schweig, Nathanial Arcand, Roseanne Supernault, Steven Cree Molison, Andrea Menard, Justin Rain and Ashley Callingbull. New additions include Gary Farmer, Tantoo Cardinal and Georgina Lightning as well as Cameron Bancroft, Frank Cassini, Vincent Gale and Lori Triolo.
The fuel that propels Blackstone comes from the character of Chief Andy Fraser. Far from being a benevolent leader, Fraser works to fill his private coffers at the expense of the band. Similar to Tony Soprano, his tools of persuasion are manipulation, intimidation and threats.
Eric Schweig, an internationally renowned actor with a string of major films under his belt including The Last of the Mohicans and Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, describes his character with a frank combination of distaste and humour.
“He's an emotionally vacant, insidious, duplicitous ass and I don't have a lot in common with him. I appreciate the fact he gets things done, but it's all for personal gain. If he put half the energy into doing something charitable for Blackstone, he would do well. He's just a politician with muscle. He's a bully.”
The Gazette caught up with Schweig at the University of Alberta Law Building where first assistant director Ehud Ellman is shooting a series of outdoor scenes. The east side of the law building, an imposing brick structure with an alcove of greenery, stands in for law courts. As Ellman gives the signal to roll, various contracted actors including uniformed Edmonton Police Service officers, walk through the various scenes.
During a break, Schweig sits leisurely on his trailer steps puffing a cigarette while candidly delivering his thoughts. A complex individual, the Vancouver resident is involved in street outreach for the homeless. “I like it because I can do something instead of run off at the mouth about the class system.”
Intrigued by Andy, Schweig loves to play the bad guy. But the fun has a small price. Out in public, fans will come up to him and admonish Chief Fraser. “At West Edmonton Mall, this one elderly Indian was following me and said, ‘I hate you.' But I don't mind it.”
If anything, Schweig knows he's hit the right chords. He adds that the show's popularity is due to aboriginals “connecting more with the corruption synonymous with their own chiefs. They despise it in their own community leaders.”
But in fairness to the reservation, he points out that it is “just a microcosm” of power plays, manipulation and corruption that occurs regularly at political levels of every stripe.
Ultimately Blackstone conveys one important message. As Szymanski says, “Enough of this blaming and feeling sorry for ourselves. If we become the people we can be, then it's about changing from within, ourselves and our community.”
For its first season, Blackstone won two Gemini Awards, three Rosies in Alberta and two Leos in British Columbia.
More information is available at www.blackstonetheseries.com.
