The Sev­enth Fire

The cycli­cal hell of drug deal­ing and gang cul­ture is cap­tured and restat­ed anew in this abra­sive yet strange­ly lyri­cal doc­u­men­tary por­trait of the trag­ic denizens of the White Earth Reser­va­tion in Min­neso­ta. Stereo­typ­i­cal depic­tions of sto­ical Native Amer­i­cans on film are here soft­ly recal­i­brat­ed to present Rob Brown and Kevin Fine­day as hap­less down-and-outs whose activ­i­ties are con­stant­ly crushed by the local law enforcement.

The hulk­ing, bear-like Rob, with prison tat­toos dis­played proud­ly on his chest, is a career crim­i­nal, but also a father fig­ure in the com­mu­ni­ty. He’s shown to be louche and accept­ing of his time spent behind bars, but a forth­com­ing fifth stretch (mov­ing­ly mon­i­tored by direc­tor Jack Pet­ti­bone Ric­cobono) seems like it just might be the last. Kevin, mean­while, looks up to Rob, a man he refers to endear­ing­ly as an ​“OG” (Orig­i­nal Gang­ster). Despite advice from peers and elders alike to not stray down that same dark path, Kevin just seems inex­orably drawn to the abyss. But the choic­es he has are grim: push drugs to locals, or traipse down to the riv­er and drop in pieces of offal to har­vest leech­es for fish­ing bait?

There’s some great footage here, includ­ing a shot of Kevin rid­ing a bike while simul­ta­ne­ous­ly smok­ing and play­ing a video game – a per­fect encap­su­la­tion of his inabil­i­ty to steer straight and a will­ing­ness to place his life in dan­ger for no rea­son. Lat­er, hor­rif­ic shots from a par­ty held in hon­our of Rob’s last day of free­dom descend into ugly beat­ings which become the sick cen­tre­piece for laugh­ter and cel­e­bra­tion rather than con­cern. There’s a sense these two men use the cam­eras as a way to acknowl­edge and apol­o­gise for their ​“sins”, but when they’re back on their own, mat­ters are very different.

It’s a film which invites you into a world of high dan­ger, like you’ve been grudg­ing­ly approved to be a new mem­ber of a street gang. Yet Ric­cobono tries too hard to push the social issues angle of the mate­r­i­al, like this project wouldn’t be worth­while unless a moral or a les­son can be found at the end of it. Yet the tragedy of these char­ac­ters is self-evi­dent, and a late-game swerve into a redemp­tion nar­ra­tive ter­ri­to­ry is, if not unwel­come, then cer­tain­ly jarring.