Actor often naked and always unashamed

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Cayuga actor Gary Farmer views television with a suspicious eye. He describes it as an assimilation tool that acts merely as a framework to hang commercials off of.

"I don't trust it that much," he said.

Farmer loves theatre because of its honesty. He says film is interesting because people spend years, a decade even, developing the larger stories they will tell with it.

"That's kind of interesting, to get into people's dreams, and you're working to propel their story, and all of that goes beyond their original concepts." Farmer said film has been a great world in which to work.

"It's a good life... Oh yeah, it's taken care of me."

Farmer was at the friendship centre in Vancouver Feb. 17 to accept a tribute from the Indigenous Media Arts Group. IMAG was honoring the 6 ft. 2 in., 300 lb. man for accomplishments racked up during his 30-year acting career.

The tribute, complete with a retrospective of Farmer's film work, was held during the opening ceremonies of the 2005 IMAGeNation Aboriginal Film and Video Festival held Feb. 17 to 20. It was the first time an actor has been chosen for the opening night honor in the seven-year history of the festival, said IMAG president Zoe Hopkins.

"We honor somebody every year. We've honored Russell Wallace, who's a composer, and we've honored directors and other people like that, but I think it's really a good year to nominate somebody who's contributed such a great deal to the image of Native people on the screen," she told Raven's Eye.

Hopkins said a huge part of the conversation when discussing Farmer's contributions is the variety of the work that he's produced.

"He's done the really underground, independent work, like with Jim Jarmusch in Dead Man, and he's done really high profile Hollywood stuff, like with Robert DeNiro. And everything in between, buckskin roles, everything, he's done it all. And going way back to Powwow Highway, which is a favorite among so many people. We just sort of took a look at the range of credits that he had, and he's such a lovely person who also does so many other things as well as acting. We just all agreed that he would be a good guy."

As part of the tribute, a local drummer and his son, Simon and Victor Reece, sang a chief's song for Farmer, who was ceremonially wrapped in a Pendleton blanket by Hopkins and IMAG board member Dana Claxton. Tears rolled down Farmer's face as he addressed the gymnasium filled with fans.

"There's a lot of my heart out here (in Vancouver). I've worked and played out here for many years and I feel very akin to all of you Western Indians," he said.

During the evening, much was made of the fact that in many of his films and in his work on stage, Farmer has had to appear nude. In the Tomson Highway play Dry Lips Oughta Move to Kapuskasing, a play in which Farmer performed for about two years in the late 1980s, his character is required to be naked for the first 15 minutes of the work. That led to other nude scenes on stage and in film, and a naked moment in Hong Kong where he appeared nude at the end of a play in which he wasn't even cast. (Cast members had appeared naked throughout the play and challenged audience members to strip down and stand naked before the group for two minutes. Farmer obliged when he heard there would be a 15,000 yen reward for doing it, which sounded like a lot to him. It turned out 15,000 yen was actually only the amount it cost him to get it into the theatre to see the play.)

"You know, growing up, I was always the largest guy. I was always the biggest man, and I was always very self-conscious about my body and about myself, and it was the theatre that allowed me to work through that shame I had as a man. And it was the work in the theatre that allowed me to be naked for you all those times," he joked. "I like being naked, personally. I've come over to the other side. I think it's a healthy trend," he laughed.

Farmer described his work in a 1977 pay called Canadian Brothers as the "inciting incident" that began his career in theatre and film.

"From that point on my life was never the same," he said.

"It's been a lovely career. I've been honored a few times this year. I'm not exactly sure why. I feel like my life is up for honoring now, which is good. It makes me reflect a lot on my career.

"It seems odd, because I don't feel as though I've accomplished that much. I've just always wanted to play. I'm kind of a guy that never really grew up. I thought that playing was good, to play and to be a part of play. And I thought that creativity was the answer for trying to move on as Indigenous people in this world.

Farmer encouraged young people to "jump in and take your best shot" if work in film is an aspiration.

"Creativity is a good life for our young people to embrace. It's traditional to be a creative person. Even as an actor, for years in the theatre, after learning more about life and ceremony, I realized that what I was doing was very sacred. It's a continuation of our ceremonial way of life."

He says he's encouraged by the work that Aboriginal people have done in film in the past, and optimistic that the best is yet to come.

"I know that you have enjoyed some of the work that you have seen here tonight, but I feel that the best work is just starting to come now, as our people are writing and directing; and we have a bright future. So it's time to belly up and get busy and support and honor each other and encourage each other and carry on with the love that I feel in this room tonight."

Farmer will soon head to the United States for auditions for television pilot season, despite his concerns about the medium. And he's scheduled to work in Vermont with Kris Kristopherson in an independent film called The Disappearance.

"I'm looking forward to working with him. I met him years ago when I made Powwow Highway. I'm listening to his music just to get to know him better before I meet himagain," he told Raven's Eye.