If you’re wondering why Johnny Depp has a dead bird on his head in the new Lone Ranger, look at Kirby Sattler’s “I Am Crow.” The painting is to Tonto as Keith Richards is to Captain Jack Sparrow. It also has as much to do with Native America as the Rolling Stones have with the 1700s Caribbean.
According to Sattler’s website, his “paintings are interpretations based upon the nomadic tribes of the 19th century American Plains.”If you think that means the model for or at least the subject matter of “I Am Crow” is a Crow Indian, think again. “I,” explains Sattler, “purposely do not denote a specific tribal affiliation to my paintings, allowing the personal sensibilities and knowledge of the viewer to create their own stories.”(Mr. Depp’s personal sensibilities, for instance, tell him the dead bird on his head likes peanuts.) Sattler’s website also notes that the sixty-three-year-old painter is of “non-native blood” and that he’s neither a “historian” or “ethnologist.” And yet his “distinctive style of realism” avoids being “presumptuous” by giving his work “an authentic appearance” but “without the constraints of having to adhere to historical accuracy.”
That makes Sattler a perfect source for Johnny Depp’s equally imperfect Indian fantasy. The actor may have a Cherokee or possibly Creek grandmother (how else to explain those cheek bones?), and he told Rolling Stone that hopes his portrayal of Tonto will “maybe give some hope to kids on the reservations.” His first Indian character was named “Nobody” in Jim Jarmusch’s 1995 Dead Man (a film I really really tried to like), which prompted Depp to direct himself in The Brave two years later. The film wasn’t released in the U.S., not even on video, so I’ll have to trust the IMBd summary:
“An unemployed alcoholic Native American Indian lives on a trailer park with his wife and two children. Convinced that he has nothing to offer this world, he agrees to be tortured to death by a gang of rednecks in return for $50,000.”
If you replace “gang of rednecks” with “American pop culture,” that’s a decent allegory for Tonto.
Depp’s performance is also based on Jay Silverheels, who played Tonto in the 50s TV show. He was born Harold Smith on a Canadian Mohawk reservation, but for some reason went with “Silverheels” when he moved to Hollywood. His performance in turn was based on John Todd, who voiced Tonto in the 30s radio show. Todd was 77 and the last original cast member when the show went off the air in 1954. He was also Irish, but was happy enough to play dress-up for publicity shots. The network replaced him for public appearances, and briefly on air too, but, the story goes, the college-educated Native actor refused to read Tonto’s ungrammatical lines, so Todd got the job back.
Tonto was originally Potawatomi, so he and his Michigan tribe (the program aired from Detroit) were a bit lost in the Southwest. Someone changed it to Apache, but Camp Camp Kee Mo Sah Bee, the summer camp the director visited as a kid, is a better designation. Tonto means “stupid” or “silly” in Spanish, but that might be coincidence. The writer just needed someone for the Long Ranger to talk to.
The same creative team gave the Green Hornet a chauffeur for the same reason. The Lone Ranger may look like someone grabbed a superhero, slapped a cowboy hat on his head, and dropped him in a Western, but the lines of influence run the other direction. The Lone Ranger premiered in 1933, five years before Superman hit newsstands. It was a hit, so when the radio station demanded another show like it, they just updated the formula. The 1936 Green Hornet is an urban Lone Ranger. His horse “Silver” morphed into the limo “Black Beauty.” His Indian sidekick transformed into an oriental sidekick (Kato’s ethnic designations make less sense than Tonto’s). The Hornet’s even a blood relative. His alter ego, Britt Reid, is the Lone Ranger’s great nephew. Britt’s father, the Ranger’s nephew, is Dan. John Todd voiced him too. The Shakespearean actor dropped Tonto’s broken English to record the elderly Mr. Reid into the same microphone.
But now the superhero influence really is reversed. Seth Rogen’s Green Hornet beat Armie Hammer’s Lone Ranger to theaters by two years, both fueled by the killing Marvel and Warner Brothers are making on their assorted Avengers and Justice Leaguers. Even Kirby Sattler’s interest in “the Indian” has more to do more with pop culture than “Indigenous Peoples of the Earth.” The crow Johnny plopped on his head is, according to Sattler, a source of power:
“Any object- a stone, a plait of sweet grass, a part of an animal, the wing of a bird- could contain the essence of the metaphysical qualities identified to the objects and desired by the Native American. This acquisition of ‘Medicine’, or spiritual power, . . . provided the conduit to the unseen forces of the universe which predominated their lives. . . when combined with the proper ritual or prayer there would be a transference of identity. . . .More than just aesthetic adornment, it was an outward manifestation of their identity.”
And that, Kirby, is what we folks of non-native blood call a superhero:
Any object—a lantern, a ring, a bat, even an initial—contains the symbolic essence of the superpowers identified with the object and desired by the alter ego. Once acquired, unseen forces of the multiverse predominate the lives of the wearer. When combined with the proper ritual or prayer (“Shazam!”), there is a transference of identity (“Hulk smash!”). More than adornment, the superhero’s costume is an outward manifestation of his identity.
I could quote some juicy bits from Michael Chabon’s “Secret Skin: an essay in unitard theory,” but you get the idea.
None of this is to say The Lone Ranger is a stupid movie. It’s more entertainingly silly than the black and white reruns I watched as a kid. I also attended “Indian Guides,” in which fathers and sons of my Pittsburgh suburb assembled plastic tomahawks and heard legends of “Falling Rock,” the mysterious brave whom yellow road signs warned drivers to beware. So my “personal sensibilities and knowledge” of things Indian is right up there with Sattler and Depp. (My novel School for Tricksters is about two fakes pretending to be Indians too, but we’re talking Lone Ranger right now.)
I do give director Gore Verbinski credit for framing the tale as a 1933 Wild West exhibit, a style of realism even less constrained than Mr. Sattler’s. Tonto, “A Noble Savage in His Natural Habitat,” is a magically talking mannequin. That almost but not quite makes up for the self-annihilating Comanche (Tonto’s latest tribe) who aid Manifest Destiny by declaring themselves ghosts and charging into the spray of Gatling guns. (Can you feel the hope surging through those reservation kids?) Tonto at least gets an upgrade from racially laconic sidekick to racially madcap mentor. He and Grasshopper Ranger romp across a cinematic West that owes less to John Ford than Wile E. Coyote. You’ll be amazed by how many CGI-ed train stunts Verbinski can cram into two and a half hours (longer if your theater’s projector overheats as ours did).
Verbinski also includes several werewolf-esque bunny rabbits, so there’s far far more whimsy in Lone Ranger than in the masked mayhem Warner Brothers or even Marvel Entertainment have been putting out. Superheroes are naturally Goofy Creatures best exhibited in a Habitat of Whimsy, so I applaud the Verbinki bunnies (they have fangs!). I would just tweak the latest Tonto by revealing him for what he’s always been. A deranged white guy pretending to be an Indian. Surely Gore and Johnny could mine some comic silver from that premise.
Very nice piece, Noah, and I’m kicking around a longer response, but first a quick correction (and not about Kirby Sattler, my first cousin, once removed).
In Dead Man, “Nobody” was not Depp’s character, but the name of the Native American “sidekick” of sorts (played by Gary Farmer) who saves Depp after the latter is shot. Depp plays a non-Native man named “William Blake.”
But the film does raise the question how cultural/racial heritage and identity might be similar either to reincarnation — Nobody thinks that William Blake houses the spirit of the English poet — or, alternately, to simple and arbitrary lineages of names and naming.
Sorry, Chris. Didn’t see your byline and followed a link from Noah’s FB feed. So the “Very nice piece” goes to you.
And while I’m here, your article’s subtitle on the HU main page (“Aren’t we all Indians really?”) helps to substantiate my “promiscuous Cherokee” theory of Native identity, in which everyone or his mother seems to be “one-sixteenth Indian — Cherokee, I think.” Someone was very busy 4 or 5 generations back.
Real Indians wear turbans on their heads, not crows.
It’s interesting that, from my understanding, there’s a trend to make Kato the star of Green Hornet and Tonto the star of the Lone Ranger.
Kirby Sattler’s image also clearly enacts and replicates its own artistic lineage of artistic representations of Native American, running from John White’s “The Flyer” (c. 1585) through, among others, George Catlin’s portrait of White Cloud (c. 1845).
It is safe to say that this Tonto is even more racist than the original?
Yes, but it’s ok because he’s smarter than the Lone Ranger. “Stupid [expletive] white man.” Speaking of which, Gary Farmer seems to be the main role model for Depp.
Yeah, the whole swapping the ethnic sidekick with the star is one of the reasons the reboots of Green Hornet and Lone Ranger failed miserably.
In an effort to apologize for past misdeeds, the progressives of Hollywood felt compelled to making both icons idiots, while the sidekicks become the smartest guys in the room.
And while these screenplay “reparations” may take an edge off of the guilt these Hollywood types feel, it’s horrible brand management, and box office poison.
Face it… the only reason these two characters were optioned into films in the first place is because Hollywood puts a big premium on fielding properties with name recognition. But name recognition comes with a price: Audiences have certain preconceived expectations about the brand. So when the brand is presented in a topsy-turvy fashion, our the brand characteristics are markedly different, it may put a damper on audience acceptance and enjoyment.
Even the recent “Man of Steel” reboot suffered from such brand-mangling.
SPOILERS — SPOILERS — SPOILERS
What do I mean? Well, Superman doesn’t try and stop hundreds of thousands of people from dying around him during his battles and intentionally breaks General Zod’s frickin’ neck, Clark Kent is almost missing in action, Jimmy Olsen IS missing in action, and Perry White had a race-change operation.
END OF SPOILERS — END OF SPOILERS — END OF SPOILERS
These changes to the basic brand structure of a brand are jarring to the audience — especially if they serve no useful purpose.
And that’s what I just don’t get. If one is spending more than a hundred million on producing a film, why screw with the basics? Why not simply build on them when updating the brand? And if the main character is supposed to be smart and heroic, don’t turn the main character into an unheroic simpleton.
Jimmy Olsen is now a gal, Jenny. She’s the one trapped towards the end that Perry tries to help.
Having Superman kill people seems like it is in fact bad brand management. The idea that most people know who Perry White is, or that changing his race is some sort of terrible brand change, seems pretty confused about what most people (as opposed to the 12 people who read DC comics) are looking for in their Superman stories.
I think the racism of many of these old properties does in fact present serious challenges for reboots. I don’t think those problems would be solved by just making Tonto speak pidgin English and be subservient/cannon fodder (Tonto! Don’t go to town!) as he was in the original. It seems like maybe the actual answer is to say, you know, these stories don’t really work anymore in a climate where casual racism of this sort is no longer cute or appealing, so maybe we need to do something else.
Joy DeLyria had a good piece on this here a while back.
Well, If I were king for a day, the sidekicks would become more like partners, and their ethnicity would be besides the point.
There’s no reason why the Lone Ranger and Tonto can’t be symbiotic partners who respect and trust each other with their lives — each supplying unique skill sets the other may lack — working for the greater good in a given film.
Ditto for the Green Hornet and Kato.
Superman does not have to be morally flawed, as there are plenty of other ways to inject tension and suspense into a Superman film. I mean, in the last reboot, the screenwriters had Superman get Lois pregnant, after which he dumped her while he went on a five-year hiatus across the universe to “find himself.” They did similar shit in the first Hulk film, adding an disturbing subplot where Bruce Banner and his mother are physically abused by his father when Banner is a child, and in the climax of the film, the Hulk has to ultimately kill his father, who has been transformed into dangerous super-human monster. I saw that film with my wife at a matinee where the audience was probably 80 present children under the age of 18. It’s no wonder word-of-mouth killed the box office almost overnight.
I can’t stand it when filmmakers arrogantly think they can do crap like this with impunity to feed their artistic egos and not affect both the brand and the box office.
And as far as updating the racial diversity of a brand goes, here’s a concept: Add some new characters who are racially diverse. What a concept, eh?
“Yeah, the whole swapping the ethnic sidekick with the star is one of the reasons the reboots of Green Hornet and Lone Ranger failed miserably.”
I honestly haven’t seen either movie, but my theory is Lone Ranger and Green Hornet are really bland characters for a modern audience so playing up the ethnic sidekick was a way to try to find something of interest.
I mean, who’s more interesting, Bruce Lee or some third rate Batman wannabee guy? (Or is there something about Green Hornet of interest other than “like Batman but not Batman”?)
Cowboys used to be popular, but in an era of movies about CGI Transforming Robots I’m assuming “Coyboy in a mask” isn’t the greatest high concept, and playing up the sidekick is a sort of act of desperation to find something to attract modern audiences.
I mean, maybe Lone Ranger and Green Hornet are fascinating characters, but the pitch sure hasn’t been made to me, or audiences in general, seemingly… I’ve mainly just heard of Green Hornet since Bruce Lee was once in the TV show.
Re: Green Hornet – I would guess that 90% of the reason that this property has any name recognition at all today is that Bruce Lee played Kato in the 60’s TV series.
The Green Hornet was certainly never as popular as the Lone Ranger (a property that supported a toy line in the early 70s long after the TV show had ceased production). Green Hornet also never seeped into the popular culture the way The Lone Ranger (or even the Shadow did).
Kato is portrayed as the primary character in modern revivals of the property because Bruce Lee is a hell of a lot more interesting than Van Williams.
I think Bruce Banner being abused was a retcon in the comics, wasn’t it? I think it was in Peter David’s run, which was a long time back now….
I mean…it is a problem that superhero comics are aimed at adults and superheroes are aimed at kids…and then you’ve got the movies and there’s some branding confusion around who might want to see them. They tend to just opt to make them for adults now mostly, it seems like (Dark Knight sure was not a kids movie…though I guess the Iron Man films can be, more or less?)
Noah — Yeah, the Hulk did have dark storylines in later issues aimed at hardcore adult Hulk fans, but knowing one’s film audience is Marketing 101. It was as if Marvel had no idea WHO was going to come and see their film — kind of dumb when one is funding a blockbuster.
As even a Hollywood neophyte knows, a film can appeal to an adult audience without alienating young adults or even older children. Why Ang Lee and company opted for such a dark, disturbing version of the Hulk for the character’s big budget feature film debut mystified me. There was simply no reason for it — except maybe artistic hubris.
I think of that Hulk movie as an accidental Neon Genesis Evangelion movie.
Anyway, maybe Hollywood could take a tip from Broadway musical revivals. They’ve had some success taking musicals from generations past that still work as entertainments, but where some aspects of gender or racial politics could do with an update… and updating them with a minimum of fuss or manipulation. How To Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, of resample, added sisterhood into the showstopper Brotherhood of Man in a way that actually goosed the energy of the song.
Aaron — Great example. I don’t know why filmmakers rebooting legacy popular culture franchises fail so often in their updating efforts, but I suspect it’s because they really don’t respect the original source material.
The phrase “of resample” in my previous comment is Doofusese for “for example.” Dunno what happened there.
R. Maheras, thanks! I recall reading somewhere that the producers of the Adam West Batman were really embarrassed, at least initially, to be doing a superhero show, which is why it came out so spoofy. Little me had no objections though.