War Pony (2022) is an unflinching, intimate portrait of life on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota. Co-directed by Riley Keough and Gina Gammell, the film was created in close collaboration with Lakota writers Franklin Sioux Bob and Bill Reddy, whose real-life experiences growing up on the reservation are featured.

The film offers a raw look at the daily struggles of two Oglala Lakota youths. Bill is a young father juggling two sons by different women and trying to hustle his way to survival. Matho is a troubled pubescent boy stumbling toward manhood far too soon.

Two Different Lives, One Common Struggle

The two stories are beautifully woven together into one harrowing journey. The audience can’t help but root for both the charming screw-up, desperately trying to make a better life for himself, and the lost boy, overlooked and cast out by his own community at every turn. Through Bill and Matho, the audience experiences what it is like to try to navigate a world that is stacked against them. While heart-wrenching and emotionally charged, the film stays grounded in reality without giving over to melodrama. 

The film exposes a common predatory dynamic between those who are used to power and those who have none. Tim (Sprague Hollander), a wealthy white business owner, uses his position to exploit Bill, going beyond the typical bonds of employer-employee responsibility. In addition to working a day job for Tim, Bill also cleans his house and is constantly on call for odd jobs and late-night drives to ferry the man’s extramarital hookups home, all of whom are indigenous women. Hollander and Ashley Shelton, as Tim’s wife Allison, play their roles with subtlety; at the dinner table, they share a meal together and swap family photos, and praise Bill’s kids and dog. The couple seems warm, even gifting him expensive old jewelry, but the undercurrent of privilege and otherness lingers in every exchange. The line between generosity and exploitation is razor-thin, and the audience can feel the shade behind Tim and Allison’s sunny smiles in every scene.

When Tim ultimately turns on Bill, refusing to pay for the work he’s done, it comes as little surprise to the audience. Bill, however, is blindsided. Jojo Bapteise Whiting does an excellent job encapsulating the confusion, unfairness, outrage, and sadness that his character feels on his face. It is hard not to feel the devastation as another hope for the future implodes on itself, and the worst thing is knowing Bill doesn’t have the power or money to stand up for himself. 

Matho’s story is even more heartbreaking. The physical abuse and neglect of his drug-dealing father leave Matho desperate for love and stability. After being kicked out, he is left to fend for himself and drifts into a house where older boys deal meth. Matho, with no other options and craving belonging, convinces himself that selling drugs will earn him both money and a place to stay. In his childlike mind, stepping into his father’s world is a way to win the man’s respect—a tragic attempt to be seen by someone who has only pushed him away.