New Canadian documentary Endless Cookie begins with a phone call between two brothers. Torontonian Seth Scriver calls his elder brother, Peter, who lives in the small Northern Manitoba community of Shamattawa. It is casual and familiar and immediately sets the tone for the rest of the film. Their family dynamic is instantly recognizable as the shorthand catch-up that one has with family (or the best of friends). Peter and Seth seem to be both. There is a tender quality here, but they cut right to the chase: “Happy to hear from you, but what do you want?” What Seth wants is to tell his brother (who is navigating the perils of a busy family, and putting out a literal fire), that they have received a grant to make their film. Exciting, right? All that they have to do now, Seth says cheekily, is tell their story in a way that is “funny, beautiful, spiritual, political, complex, simple, and true.” Easy enough! What could possibly go wrong? Nine years later, they have pulled together one of the most interesting, inventive, and informative animated documentaries in some time.

To witness Endless Cookie is to observe all of those previously-listed attributes in one piece. There is a nostalgia that drives the story as we discover more about these culturally diverse brothers. Peter, an Indigenous man who has spent most of his life on a First Nations reserve, and Seth, his white little brother based in Toronto. They are obviously close (Peter having helped raise Seth), but they have led very different lives despite a shared father. These differences are not as simple as age and genetics, and they do more than just inform the audience not only of their family dynamic and history. They go a long way to illustrating the Canada we think we know.

The film manages to disarm expectations through its animation, as we watch anthropomorphic seats in a car changing the radio to warm, jazzy CBC-esque vibes, but it also conveys important details like the fact that Indigenous people being 30% of Canada’s prison population, despite making up only 5% of the country’s population. It’s a devastating statistic to be sure, and its clever delivery system (via a nostalgic broadcaster and the voice of national treasure Sook Yin-Lee perfectly performing THAT voice we know so well) stays with you. As does the story of the loss of a young family member, animated as a rider on a motorcycle with an eyeball as part of it’s anatomy, watering as it speeds down the road.

Throughout the film we’re tasked with tracking the little vignettes, but there are anchors that always bring us back to the cheeky list of elements Peter and Seth are meant to include. The vignettes are dense, vibrant animations, as Seth’s imagination proves capable of expressing grief, sensitivity and humour in incredibly inventive ways. Each piece is moving, funny and filled with personality. But it is Peter who keeps things grounded. His voice is something special and he proves a talented raconteur. Peter doesn’t just recall; he elegantly welcomes you into the fold and to share in their lives. The stories all carry meaning for Peter, his family, his connection and friendship with his brother, to his community, and what it means to have a life in between the gains and losses. This is a man who provides a unique point of view, as he sees the world via the lens of his small, remote community. Peter’s experience as a son, a brother, a father, and an Indigenous man, merge with his skills as a storyteller, and allow him to draw from a long line of oral tradition. He is not held prisoner by a drab and rigid linear timeline, because that is not how life works. His narration perfectly compliments Seth’s art, while a lifetime of anecdotes from Peter has inspired the fantastic in Seth.

The duo have reached a symbiosis that creates a unique kind of cinematic magic. Endless Cookie covers a massive amount of experiential real estate—from the generational trauma of the residential schools and the pipeline protests, to reminiscing about Toronto in the ’80s and the infectious giggles of the brothers. And through it all, there’s the charming interruptions of Cookie and her siblings. This wonderful film allows us to observe—in a completely new way—just how Canada treats its First Nation peoples, and that’s down to the Scriver brothers for allowing us to see the world through their eyes.

Endless Cookie is out now in select theatres across Canada.

See an exclusive clip from the film here.