A still from True Detective: Night Country. Photograph courtesy of HBO Max.
Words by Ruth H. Burns
As a Native woman, it’s rare for me to see any representation of Native people in media at all, let alone portrayals that are accurate and satisfying. So, imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon True Detective: Night Country. The latest season of True Detective takes place in the fictitious locale of Ennis, Alaska. The town’s inhabitants are a mix of non-Native settlers and Iñupiat, who are the very real Indigenous people that have called Alaska home for millennia.
True Detective is gritty, no doubt. But its depiction of modern Indigenous life is so well done.
Throughout production, the show worked closely with Native Alaskan consultants, and it paid off. In fact, the Iñupiaq Advisory Council reviewed the scripts for all six episodes and incorporated the Iñupiaq language, corrected factual errors, suggested trigger warnings for episodes that delved in the epidemic of missing and murdered Indigenous people, and ensured that the traditional elements that were shared with the viewing public were appropriate, understandable, and presented respectfully. Indigenous tattoos featured in the show were even designed by Marjorie Tahbone, a traditional Inuit tattoo artist.
Kali Reis is True Detective: Night Country’s breakout star. Impeccably cast as Trooper Evangeline Navarro, a tough-as-nails Iñupiat woman who fights fiercely for those she loves, Reis herself is a Native woman of Cherokee, Nipmuc, and Seaconke Wampanoag descent. Aside from acting, she is a boxer who won the 2007 NYC Golden Gloves and the 2007 Rocky Marciano Championship as an amateur. As a professional, she took the International Boxing Association crown in 2014 and the World Boxing Council title in 2016. Reis proudly carried her Native identity into the boxing ring, going by the moniker K.O. Mequinonoag, based on a Seaconke Wampanoag name that her mother gave her.
Throughout her boxing career, Reis has used her platform to advocate for the Murdered and Missing Indigenous Women and Girls (MMIWG). Perhaps that’s why her performance in True Detective is so pure. The fourth season’s plot revolves around the killing of Annie Kowtok, a fictional Iñupiat activist whose brutal murder is swept under the rug and seemingly forgotten by everyone but Navarro, who is haunted by her death.
And this is one of the reasons why more projects like True Detective: Night Country are so desperately needed. It’s unflinchingly real, and it makes genuine societal progress in its endeavor to truthfully depict Native life. It cuts to the quick, laying bare the critical issues that are ripping apart Alaskan Native communities, and bringing them much needed awareness.
It’s impossible to exaggerate how prevalent the epidemic of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls is among Native Alaskans. As a whole, there were 5,295 reports of missing Native women and girls in the United States in 2020. According to the Violence Policy Center, Alaska is number one among states with the highest rate of murder of women by men. Anchorage, Alaska is the most violent state in the Union. Urban Indian Health has concluded that Alaska is in the top 10 of states with the worst rates of MMIWG with an astonishing 52 active cases of missing and murdered Native Alaskan women.
At least 70 of 200 Alaska Native villages are facing devastating environmental threats from climate change due to erosion, flooding, and thawing permafrost.
For those who are unfamiliar with the tragedy that pervades the MMIW epidemic, know that sadly, there have been many Annie Kowtok’s.
Brian Steven Smith, a 52-year-old South African man, was recently found guilty of raping, torturing, and murdering two Native Alaskan women, Kathleen Henry and Veronica Abouchuk. Smith recorded the murder of Henry using a film camera. In the video, which was shown to the jury, Henry is repeatedly beaten and strangled by Smith as he narrates while tormenting and killing her. Smith carried Henry’s body in the back of his pickup for two full days before he callously dumped her remains.
True Detective: Night Country also addresses the battle Native Alaskans have been waging against mines that endanger their lives and the environment they depend on to survive.
Native Alaskans, joined by a coalition of local non-Native residents, commercial fishermen, hunters, and environmental groups, fought for more than 20 years to stop the Pebble Mine Project from coming to fruition in fertile Bristol Bay. A proposed two-mile-wide and 200 feet deep open mining pit, Pebble Mine would have been the largest of its kind. Alaska is mineral-rich, and the Pebble deposit is no exception, holding a massive load of gold, copper, and molybdenum.
But the Pebble deposit is located within the headwaters of the Kvichak and Nushagak Rivers, two of the eight key rivers that nourish Bristol Bay. Currently, the Bristol Bay watershed is relatively pristine, and that’s what Native Alaskans sought to protect. The watershed contains 40,000 square miles of wild tundra and wetlands that are accessible only by plane. It’s home to the globe’s most productive salmon run, grizzly bears, and bald eagles. Upwards of 50 million salmon spawn there every year.
Pebble Mine presented a needless danger to Bristol Bay’s incredible, unique natural resources. The Mine would have discharged deadly cyanide, heavy metals, and toxic chemicals that would have irreparably harmed area wildlife and subsequently, its human population, too.
The Mine would have also called for the construction of the world’s largest earthen dam, at about 700 feet tall and several miles long. And it is unlikely that such a dam, which would have held toxic mining chemicals, could withstand substantial earthquake activity. Alaska is seismically active. There was a massive 9.2 earthquake recorded in Anchorage in 1964, and future large earthquakes in the area are expected.
Make no mistake, there is an economic component here, too. The Salmon fisheries in Bristol Bay translate to $1.5 billion commercial dollars. Definitely nothing to shake a stick at.
In spite of these details, the state of Alaska staunchly supported the Pebble Mine Project. Luckily, the right people listened and common sense prevailed. A year ago, the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) cited Section 404(c) of the Clean Water Act to halt Pebble Mine development. The Act authorizes the EPA to prohibit, restrict, withdraw, or deny permits if a project would have an “unacceptable adverse effect” on the environment. The EPA stood on the knowledge that such a mine in the Bristol Bay watershed could have possibly destroyed 94 miles of streams, 5,350 wetlands, and withdrawn 35 billion gallons of fresh water that the salmon need for spawning to occur. Pebble Mine investors and the state of Alaska contested the EPA’s decision. Just last month, the Supreme Court of the United States dismissed their bid to revive the Pebble Mine Project, effectively tanking the project and preventing it from moving forward.
True Detective: Night Country stands alone in its readiness and competence to not just spotlight serious issues that plague Alaskan Natives, but showcase Native talent.
True Detective: Night County highlighted the environmental destruction wrought by mines in Alaska, linking it to the MMIWG epidemic as well. The causal relationship between extractive industry and the epidemic of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls has been established through research. For, in many ways, Alaskan Natives are on the frontlines of environmental battles being waged against extractive industry.
The Trump Administration approved oil and gas extraction in the Alaskan Wildlife Refuge, even though the Department of Interior reported that such development would cause mass extinction events in the Refuge and drive climate change. Interior scientists listed 69 bird species, out of 157 currently existing in the region, who would likely go extinct as a result of oil and gas extraction. The governmental report further acknowledged increased carbon emissions that would be released by new oil and gas development in the Alaskan Wildlife Refuge, admitting that such growth would lead to catastrophic impacts due to climate change. Thankfully, the Biden Administration took significant steps to protect the Refuge in 2023. They authorized the cancellation of seven remaining oil and gas leases that were approved by the Trump Administration within the Refuge Coastal Plain, ensuring that 13 million acres there remain safe from extraction.
Still, at least 70 of 200 Alaska Native villages are facing devastating environmental threats from climate change due to erosion, flooding, and thawing permafrost. The consequences of these historic events, even on a moderate level, may wipe them out. They are quite literally fighting for survival—of the land, and their people.
I welcome debate as to whether season four of True Detective was demonstrably great. That’s the beauty of art—it can be subjective. We are free to examine it through our own particular lens and decide if we like it or not. Nonetheless, True Detective: Night Country stands alone in its readiness and competence to not just spotlight serious issues that plague Alaskan Natives, but showcase Native talent. (More than a dozen Native creators were involved in the development of Night Country.)
L’xeis Diane Benson, (Tlingit), who is Bee in Night Country, plays a small but pivotal role in the series and was amazing to watch. Benson is a retired University of Alaska professor of Alaska Native Studies & Rural Development and a former candidate for Congress. Isabella Star LaBlanc (Sisseton Wahpeton Dakota) played Jodie Foster’s stepdaughter and conveyed incredible depth in her role as an LGBTQIA+ Native youth. Tanya Tagaq, a well-known Inuk singer, songwriter, and author, not only provided music for the show’s soundtrack, she made her acting debut in the series.
And these are just a few of the Natives you will see in True Detective: Night Country. The series’ fourth season did an exceptional job at Native inclusion on every level. And I haven’t even touched on the spellbinding supernatural elements it depicts, but that is because I want you to watch the show and see it for yourself. Natives know that horror is a part of life. Seeing this concept on screen almost made me feel like they were sharing one of our secrets—but in a good way.
As a Native woman, I say, MORE. Please, MORE of this. And pidamayaye. Thank you. While difficult to watch at times, this season made me hopeful for Native representation yet to come. Check it out. It’s worth the spine-tingling journey.
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A True Vision for Alaskan Native Representation
