Roger Ebert called film an empathy machine. Movies broaden our perspectives by showing us the world from other points of view. However, movies are also like time machines. Experiencing the right film at just the right moment can unleash a flood of feelings and memories from way back in your life. 

Frybread Face and Me is one of those special films that connected with me on a profound level, evoking a handful of golden memories from the sun-kissed days of my youth. Writer-director Billy Luther’s coming-of-age drama lovingly captures the joy and heartache of growing up in a culturally specific childhood tale that will appeal to moviegoers from all walks of life. 

Benny (Keir Tallman) is in the prime of his youth. He’s a 12-year-old boy living in beautiful San Diego and starting summer vacation. He’s about to have all the time in the world to play with his action figures and jam to Fleetwood Mac on his Walkman. However, his hope for a perfect summer goes down the drain after his parents decide to separate. He’s sent away to spend summer at his Grandma Lorraine’s (Sarah H. Natani) sheep ranch on an Arizona Navajo reservation. 

In San Diego, the world was Benny’s oyster, so he’s not pleased to arrive on a rickety old ranch in the middle of nowhere. It’s the sort of place where you half expect to see Wile E. Coyote chasing down the Road Runner. There’s no TV to watch, no kids to play with, and worst of all, no more batteries for his Walkman – so long Stevie Nicks. 

Life gets a little more interesting when Benny’s cousin also gets dumped on the ranch. Affectionately (and yet disrespectfully) called Frybread Face, cousin Dawn (Charley Hogan) is like a slightly younger but much meaner version of Benny. At first, the city boy and country girl don’t hit it off, but idle hands are the devil’s workshop and the duo bond over mischievous hijinks. Their burgeoning friendship helps Benny gain a deeper appreciation for his summer home, his extended family, and their Navajo traditions. 

Films like Frybread Face and Me are the reason I go to film festivals. I stumble through screening after screening, bleary-eyed and exhausted, hoping to unearth a gem. This film is a gem, folks. The movie delves into heavy material, but unlike many “serious” indie flicks, it does so without revelling in doom and gloom. Luther explores themes of identity, masculinity, and the tug-of-war between familial obligations and becoming your own person.  

Even though the melancholic adult world bleeds into Benny’s life, we experience the story through a child’s eyes. Life still hasn’t crushed his spirit, so the film counterbalances its sombre themes with a childlike sense of hope and wonder. The story unfolds as a flashback, with a grown-up Benny narrating the events of that precious summer when his life changed forever. Through hindsight, and adult Benny’s wisdom, you’re witnessing a turning point in the child’s life.

Benny’s world feels so authentic and lived-in that I’m 95% convinced every beat in the film happened at some point in Luther’s life. Every character in the film behaves like a real person with emotional baggage. They’re a collection of headstrong uncles, adoring aunties, and mischievous cousins who feel plucked from my own family. They barely get along but they’re always bound together by Grandma Lorraine’s gentle spirit and ferocious love.  

Frybread Face and Me looks and sounds fantastic. Cinematographer Peter Simonite deftly captures the ranch’s rustic beauty, filming every weathered nook and cranny in loving detail. Ryan Beveridge’s vibrant score evokes the spirit of being twelve. It’s catchy, inquisitive, and bristling with energy. 

Billy Luther crafted an exceptional coming-of-age film that captures the beauty of self-discovery. He paints such a vivid and enveloping world that, by the movie’s end, I felt like I had spent a summer with Benny and Dawn. Frybread Face and Me is one of the year’s under-the-radar treasures and the rare film that entertained me, educated me, and warmed my soul. 

Frybread Face and Me had its International Premiere as part of TIFF 2023. Head here for more coverage from this year’s festival.