Marie Clements: Telling Indigenous Women's Stories That Matter

Voices from the Underground

When I first encountered Marie Clements' work, it was in a quiet corner of a museum—a play about Indigenous women that felt urgent, raw, and deeply human. Now, with her latest film, How We Stand, premiering at this year's Toronto International Film Festival, I can't help but think about the profound shift happening in how we tell stories about Indigenous experiences. This is not just a story of survival—it's a story of resistance, of reclaiming space and voice in a world that has tried to silence it.

"There's a moment when you're in the room with matriarchs when everything stands still," Clements recently told me, reflecting on her upcoming three-part documentary series Reclaim My Skin.

This quote captures what makes her work so compelling. It's not just about telling stories; it's about creating moments of connection and reverence where truth and power collide. And in the case of How We Stand, that collision happens across generations, between the past and present, and between the personal and political.

The Power of Sisters

How We Stand is a deeply emotional journey that follows three sisters from Oklahoma who, in the 1950s, are part of a relocation program to Los Angeles. What starts as a promise of opportunity quickly turns into a painful revelation—jobs aren't what they were promised, and their dreams begin to crumble. The film explores themes of family, loss, and resilience through three very different paths taken by these women.

Amber Midthunder, Alyssa Wapanatâhk, and Isabel DeRoy-Olson bring a fierce energy to their roles. Midthunder portrays a doctor who seeks stability but finds herself in conflict with her husband's clinic, Wapanatâhk embodies an activist fighting for representation on screen, and DeRoy-Olson plays a sister adrift after trauma. These are not one-dimensional characters; they're living, breathing women whose lives echo the struggles and triumphs of many Indigenous women today.

From Stage to Screen

The inspiration for How We Stand came from a stage play that Clements originally wrote in 2011. The original version was set in a more confined space, but the film adaptation expanded its scope to reflect the complexities of time and memory. The story shifts through different eras—starting with childhood in Oklahoma, moving through the cultural upheaval of the 1970s, and ending in the present day, where echoes of past injustices still resonate.

It's a deliberate choice to weave these timelines together. As Clements explains:

"We don't always know that our lives are being designed by something that we don't have control of."

This sentiment hits especially close to home in the context of Indigenous history, where systemic forces—residential schools, forced assimilation, broken treaties—have shaped generations. The film doesn't shy away from these realities, instead confronting them head-on with a mix of heartbreak and hope.

A Voice for Change

What strikes me most about Clements' approach is her commitment to amplifying Indigenous voices not just in front of the camera but behind it as well. Her work has always been about giving space to those who have been marginalized, and she does so with such care and intelligence that it's impossible to ignore.

She recently spoke about interviewing Gloria Steinem alongside Indigenous activists Louise Wakerakats:se Herne and Michelle Schenandoah:

"Even at their most passionate they never spoke over each other... They gave space and listened, acknowledging differences while also understanding that we have more in common than what works to divide us."

This idea of shared humanity runs throughout her work. Whether it's through the personal stories of her characters or her broader exploration of Indigenous rights, Clements reminds us that storytelling can be a form of resistance.

The Underground and the Surface

One of the most haunting elements of How We Stand is how it connects to the concept of 'tombs'—underground spaces where Indigenous people met, bonded, and found safety. This imagery serves as a powerful metaphor for what happens when society pushes people underground, both literally and figuratively.

The film asks us to think about how we build communities, how we find strength in each other, and how even the smallest acts of defiance can have lasting impact. It's a reminder that resistance isn't always loud—it can be quiet, persistent, and deeply personal.

Looking Forward

As How We Stand makes its debut at TIFF, we're also looking ahead to the release of Reclaim My Skin, a documentary series that dives deeper into Indigenous identity and healing. Both projects reflect Clements' vision of using art as a way to confront history while creating space for future generations.

This is what makes her work so vital in today's entertainment landscape—a commitment to telling stories that matter, with integrity, honesty, and an unflinching look at the world as it is, not as we wish it were. Marie Clements doesn't just make films; she creates bridges between worlds, between generations, and between people who might otherwise never find each other.

In a time when so many stories are being told by those who have power, it's refreshing to see someone like Clements use her platform not to amplify noise, but to bring clarity. Her films remind us that the most important narratives are often the ones we've been too afraid to tell—and that's exactly why they matter so much.