Famously, characters in TV and movies rarely say goodbye at the end of conversations. This jars some viewers so much that it breaks their suspense of disbelief: who are these rude assholes, they wonder, who just hang up the phone?
Screenwriters, on the other hand, seem to feel that while these kinds of pleasantries may be necessary social lubrication, they’re boring and unnecessary on the screen. Trim pointless verbiage. Let’s keep it moving.
Erica Tremblay’s Fancy Dance does not, so far as I noticed, linger on hellos and goodbyes over the phone. But what it includes with striking frequency—what it clearly doesn’t consider pointless at all—is an exchange that’s just as simple and just as often elided, or at least half-elided. Time after time, this melancholy, bitter, and joyful film makes time for “Thank you” / “You’re welcome.”
It happens so often that it begins to feel like a key part of the social fabric of the Seneca-Cayuga reservation community and ethos. Lily Gladstone’s resilient, heartsore Jax scrapes together a living by shoplifting and boosting cars, and the rez life is so hard that she’s still always broke and desperate; the film correctly has zero interest in assigning any moral blame to what Jax does to get by and provide for her niece, Roki (Isabel DeRoy-Olson). Instead, it sees her—again correctly—as being woven into a living exchange of generosity that’s both offered and accepted. There’s a constant acknowledgment of mutual entanglement.
It’s in how Jax insists on paying her stripper girlfriend for a lap-dance delivered on the clock. It’s in how she thanks an elder who led a search party for her sister. At one point, Jax’s quest to find the missing Tawi leads her to a trailer camp occupied by white oil workers, most of them meth-twitchy, trigger-happy, and furious at any questioning; she’s terrorized and molested in a search for a wire, and she knows there’s every chance she won’t get out alive. But when one oil worker, feeling bad about all this, follows her out into the dark and gives her a tip after all, Jax, no matter how rattled she is, still thanks him.
He doesn’t know to say, “You’re welcome,” though. What he says instead—“I hope you find her”—is compassionate, but it doesn’t have the same give-and-take. It’s not relational. It’s a farewell from someone who knows he won’t see her again. It’s a wish that she’ll have good luck on this quest he, nice or not, has nothing more to do with.
“You’re welcome” is a recognition that some real service has been done1, and the oil worker knows, in essence, that while he’s given Jax intel, it’s cost him nothing. It’s literally no problem. “No problem” is my own preferred way—a Millennial habit, I’ve been told—to answer a thank-you; I reflexively feel rude even alluding to the idea that what I did took any effort or meant anything. It feels polite, and I’m sure it’s generally received as polite, but Fancy Dance makes me see how it’s also, in a way, a rejection as well as a denial. Instead of fulfilling the exchange, it cuts it off. It’s not “yes, and” but “actually, no.” At its harshest, “Actually, what you’re feeling is inappropriate and invalid.”
Fancy Dance finds a better, more communal way of acknowledging what people do for—and to—each other. It’s a film that’s about connection and the horror of severing it.
While Jax is looking for Tawi, she’s taking care of Roki, Tawi’s daughter. Gladstone and DeRoy-Olson have a warm, naturalistic chemistry that makes them deeply convincing as auntie and niece. (The film’s biggest flaw is that whenever one of them isn’t on-screen, the movie is far less interesting; Ryan Begay, as Jax’s brother in tribal law enforcement, gets shouldered with resolving a big chunk of plot at one point, and things instantly feel a lot sleepier.) But Jax has a criminal record, so the white authorities of Child Protective Services remove Roki from her aunt’s custody and place her instead with the white grandparents (Shea Whigham and Audrey Wasilewski) she barely knows. Jax, desperate to hold her family together, spirits Roki away to take her to the powwow Roki has always danced at with her mother.
The plot gets a tad too busy and forced at times—a gun gets involved, and it sticks out like a sore thumb—but the film shines whenever it’s concentrating on Jax and Roki and on what Jax owes Roki and Tawi. It can be funny, especially when Roki’s natural exuberance comes into play—her breakfast order after her first period is one of the most endearing movie scenes I’ve ever seen—and it can be heartbreaking. No matter what mode it’s in, though, it’s always attentive to the nuanced appreciation and devotion between its two leads. As much as cultural practices and traditions connect us to the past and to our communities, they also connect us to each other; they let Jax make Roki feel cherished and celebrated, and they let Roki define what she needs from this relationship. Ritual—even when it’s a simple conversational exchange—provides a structure for mutual acknowledgment.
It is fitting, for all those reasons and more, that the film concludes with a yearly powwow dance for the missing and murdered. There may be nothing Jax can do for her sister, one of the tribe’s elders effectively says at one point, but if Jax calls for her, Tawi will answer. Even if the question—this outpouring of ongoing love, grief, and care—is infuriating in its annual necessity. Even if the answer only comes in the transcendence of all those feet pounding together. The relationship is still there, no matter what happens.
Fancy Dance is streaming on Apple TV+.
About the writer
Lauren James
Lauren James is a writer who wears many different hats (and pen names). She lives in Connecticut with her wife and two cats.
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Conversation
What did we watch?
The X-Files, “Revelations”
We were able to fit an episode in last night after all!
There’s a surprisingly knotty emotional core to this episode, related to but not composed of Scully’s tested faith, and it comes when Scully grapples with the fact that she can’t talk to Mulder about any of this, not in a way that matters. They disagree all the time, and we’ve already seen Mulder’s willingness to believe run into a wall when it comes to religion, but this is maybe the first time there’s been an ache, even a loneliness, to the disconnect in their ways of approaching the world. Gillian Anderson plays Scully’s acceptance of Mulder’s position without bitterness, but there’s still something sad about her passing confession to him off as an errand–about these two people who form an iconic partnership needing a little white lie for this. When Mulder believes everything, but he won’t even try to believe this–or even respect her sense of awe, since he explicitly says the case is testing his patience–of course it bruises her.
Possibly none of this is fair. Scully is consistently a skeptic about Mulder’s beliefs, and Mulder finds that refining, since it’s still accompanied by her devotion to following the truth wherever it leads. She could embrace his confidence and find value in his doubt. But in this episode, at least, it’s destabilizing and isolating her, and Anderson’s so good at Scully’s vulnerability that that hurts.
Always great to see Michael Berryman.
The Taking of Pelham One Two Three – I was in the mood for something familiar, and this always hits the spot. Maybe this time the seams are showing a bit, but this remains one of my all time faves. Love the cast, love the mordant 70s NYC humor, love how it all plays out. A time capsule of a world that is long gone and yet last I checked, those subway stations haven’t changed a bit.
The Practice, “Axe Murderer” – A crossover with Single Female Lawyer! (Did Lrrrr get upset when he realized he didn’t set his VCR for this?) For reasons that are only explained on the other show, Ally McBeal and her colleague have subcontracted a murder case to Bobby and Eugene. And watch disgusted as Bobby accuses the defendant’s therapist and lover of both framing her and concocting the crazy story that she thinks she’s Lizzie Borden reincarnated. This one successfully veers from “oh ho ho, that wacky David E. Kelley” to “my god, this got real.” And Calista Flockhart’s takedown of Bobby is spot on. This also marks the first time Bobby and friends use what would be called “plan B,” accusing a witness of being the culprit to create reasonable doubt. Meanwhile, Ellenor is falling in love but learns the truth about her guy being involved in insurance fraud. Excellent performance by Camryn Mannheim, and the moment Ellenor has her first kiss is shot lovingly and shows Mannheim’s true beauty.
Frasier, “Momma Mia” – The seventh season starts with Frasier dating a woman who is a dead ringer for the late Hester Crane. Rita Wilson does not in fact look a think like Nancy Marchand but it’s still a surprisingly effective episode that ends not with Frasier kicking himself for not noticing till it’s too late, but with the Crane family watching old home movies of the wife and mother they all still love and miss.
Back to back concerts with British legends (though the first is an American band) Sparks in Glenside (“Hello, almost Philadelphia!”) and then Pulp last night. A supposedly fun thing I’m never doing again…nah, I kid, I’m very tired, I am clearly 33, yet both bands were incredible and gave me a real mental health boost. Should go to more shows. I love Pulp more song by song. Regardless, Sparks’ dynamic feels really unique, especially the showman younger brother and the deadpan older brother Rob on keyboards, almost like Russell is perpetually showing off for Rob. When Rob at one point got away from the keyboard, counted down with his fingers, and did a cut-up style dance with a big smile on his face, it was such a funny, wonderful break in the set. Great bands, no openers required, and I saw them both with good friends. What more do you need?
Also spoilers for anyone seeing Pulp live: any Venture Bros. fans will be happy.
Wish I could have been there for both of these, though I’m also old and perpetually tired enough that the idea of doing them back-to-back has me wincing. But the experience!
Oh I am wincing, believe me.
TWOooooo live music! And yeah, you may feel it today but there’s nothing like the boost in energy from a great show.
Justified, Season Three, Episode One, “The Gunfighter”
“Alright, we’ll try one more week of medical restriction, and then I’ll issue you some hand grenades.”
I missed this energy. There’s a surprising amount of parallel between Justified and The X-Files, with the main one being that there’s a Myth Arc and a MOTW structure (even if the line is fuzzier on Justified), and the main characters come off a lot cooler in the latter than the former. Obviously Justified is far superior in its plotting so the long-plot is still entertaining and moving, but there’s definitely a sense that Raylan would be a lot better off just getting up and doing his job every day chasing guys like Ice Pick as opposed to being an asshole; this episode also has the thrill of consequences, including that Raylan getting shot has fucked up his game.
That said, the mythology parts of this work really well – seeing Dickie, Dewie, and Boyd in jail together is like seeing a crossover episode (or like when Stiglitz namedrops Zoller in Inglourious Basterds), and Duffy coming back is great, as is Raylan’s embarrassment about not being able to follow up on his threat. This feels like a real world that everyone is passing through now.
There’s rich business and poverty business happening side-by-side in this episode; the rich assholes don’t need explanation, but for the latter, I think of the guy Arlo and the young guy are trying to sell weed to who is horrified by the poor storage. If there’s an intelligence difference between rich and poor, it’s mainly down to education, and without that you get guys like the young white supremecist guy. Either way, of course, there’s lots of dickswinging.
Desmond Harrington gives an amazing and very Seventies performance as Fletcher Nix. I’m intrigued by the notion of Ava going Mags.
Biggest Laugh: “You ain’t gonna let me do anything, are you?” / “Well, you can’t run and you can’t shoot. What good are you?” / “I could be the guy on the radio, tellin’ people what to do.” / “That’s my job, asshole.”
Biggest Non-Art Laugh: “Boyd, I been to Mexico. I don’t think you’d like it.” / “How so?” / “There’s a lot of Mexicans.” Guillermo can back this up.
Top Ownage: Raylan’s solution to Fletcher’s game is fantastic.
Instantly, I pegged this one as “the tablecloth episode,” and for good reason. Sometimes the best ownage is the simplest and the most obvious: the means were right there the whole time. It’s like the action equivalent of the solution in an Agatha Christie novel.
Two of my favorite comedic beats of the series in the biggest laughs and biggest non-Art laughs of this episode. And of course, I like the X-Files comparison, though now I want to see Raylan Givens investigating the uncanny.
It strikes me that a Raylan-centered X-Files plot would eventually lead to the line “On any other day, that might seem strange.”
This is an exceptional write-up, just really great insight here. I’ve also tried to move away from “no problem” and its dismissiveness of the ask and the action, but it’s hard.
Thank you so much! And yeah, it’s hard to make that switch. (But attempting it did give me an anecdote from earlier this morning, when I said, “You’re welcome,” slightly before it turned out the person’s full sentence was, “Thank you, Lord Jesus.”)
I am also a no problem guy. Because they’re not welcome! I did them a favor, but “you’re welcome” is a statement that I will be at their beck and call next time, too. And I won’t! Or, you know, maybe I will if I’ve got time, because I’m a helpful guy. But sometimes I have other things to do.
Year of the Month update!
This September, we’re covering these movies, albums, books, from 1938!
TBD: Cori Domschot: Bringing Up Baby/Holiday
Sept. 15th: Bridgett Taylor: Rebecca
And here’s a primer on some of the movies, albums, books and TVwe’ll be covering for 1973 in October!
Oct. 7th: Lauren James: Working
Oct. 22nd: Lauren James: The Wicker Man
Oct. 29th: Lauren James: Don’t Look Now