Twenty years ago, when I worked as a newspaper reporter, I was assigned to write a story on a parish where two priests had been removed for allegations of abuse. It was shortly after the Spotlight series first appeared in The Boston Globe, and my editors were looking for a local angle on what was quickly becoming a national story.
My job was to find parishioners and speak to them about their experiences. But on at least one day, I could not bring myself to do it. Instead I stopped into the local library and read a book. In retrospect, I think I was traumatized. I have known many good priests, and I did not relish the prospect of digging into the past of possible sex abusers. My story was eventually published, but I was happy when I returned to my regular beat.
That experience came back to me as I sat down to watch “Sugarcane,” a nominee for an Academy Award for best documentary. It takes another look at the sex abuse scandal, this time in the residential school system in Canada. After 20 years in the Catholic press, I wasn’t looking forward to watching another account of the abuse crisis. By this point, the story is terrifyingly familiar. After the film “Spotlight,” what more is there to say?
What I did not expect was a film where terror and beauty sit side by side.
“Sugarcane” is the story of sexual abuse (and other crimes) at St. Joseph’s Mission in British Columbia. The film weaves together the narratives of individuals who lived at the mission or were affected by what happened there. For nearly 100 years, the Canadian government contracted with the church and other Christian groups to run hundreds of residential schools. Native children were taken from their homes in an attempt to integrate them into white Canadian society. But many of these children suffered sexual abuse. And that’s just the beginning of this horrific story.
The film is directed by Emily Kassie and Julian Brave NoiseCat, who also appears in the film. Early on Julian reaches out to his father, Ed Archie NoiseCat, to discuss Ed’s childhood at St. Joseph’s and the lingering questions about what happened there. As they slowly try to unravel the mystery, their relationship deepens, and Julian confronts his father about leaving their family when he was a boy. Alcohol was to blame, though it is clear that trauma played a part too.
We are also introduced to Rick Gilbert, a faithful Catholic who lived at St. Joseph’s as a child. With some help from his wife, he starts to explore his biological roots, including the possibility that one of the priests at the mission could be his father. But Rick wants more proof. He is a kind and gentle man struggling with a staggering reality. Later in the film, Rick goes to Rome for a meeting with Pope Francis and sits down with the head of the religious order that ran the mission to share his story.
Other figures include Willie Sellars, the chief of police of Williams Lake First Nation, and Charlene Belleau and Whitney Spearing, two investigators who act as our guides to piecing together the history of St. Joseph’s. In one scene, they stand in the attic of a building where many children lived, reading the names etched on the wall. Watching it feels like standing at the foot of the cross.
Revealing what exactly happened at St. Joseph’s would rob the film of its raw power. But anyone who has followed the story of residential schools knows the outlines of this story. Unmarked graves raise disturbing questions about who died and why their deaths were concealed.
“Sugarcane” is also, surprisingly, a story of healing, although the healing does not come from the church or its ministers. The land and its people are presented beautifully, almost prayerfully. Watching stories of abuse unfold against this backdrop offers a kind of hope. The devil is here, but he does not have the last word.
Consider the way the men and women of Williams Lake First Nation care for one another. When Rick finally faces his past, we know it is love of his family that has brought him there. Another former resident, after revealing a gruesome memory, is gently consoled by Charlene Belleau: “I am glad you are here today, so that you can leave that here with us.”
And in the film’s climactic scene, Julian and Ed visit Ed’s mother to find out what really happened at St. Joseph’s. Their encounter is not shown; all we see is the early morning sky. But we hear their declarations of love for her, over and over again.
The promotional image for “Sugarcane” is a white statue of Mary and the infant Jesus, stained by patches of rust. It looks like they are the victims of a plague—which, of course, they are. It is the plague I first encountered as a reporter 20 years ago and which, to some extent, I have been living with every day since.
The statue still stands at St. Joseph’s, keeping watch.
