Celebrating Native American Heritage Month this November, the AFI Catalog shines a spotlight on THE DAUGHTER OF DAWN (1920), one of the earliest fictional feature films in history to headline a cast comprised entirely of Native American performers who actively participated in the production. Other firsts with Native casts include HIAWATHA (1913) and Edward S. Curtis’ IN THE LAND OF THE HEAD HUNTER (1914). Ensuring the authenticity of THE DAUGHTER OF DAWN, over 300 members of the Kiowa and Comanche tribes in Oklahoma supplied original artifacts for props and costumes, and informed the action of the story so it genuinely represented Native culture.[i] This presented a stark contrast to the standard cinematic depictions of Native American people and their customs at the time, which leaned on pernicious racial stereotypes and false mythologies–the kind of Western movie fare that pitted cowboys against “Indians” and was overwhelmingly popular with white spectators. Although THE DAUGHTER OF DAWN was written and directed by a white filmmaker (Norbert A. Myles), and was intended to be viewed by mainstream audiences, the picture’s depiction of ancient rituals, such as a buffalo hunt, ceremonial dances and the use of Plains Indian Sign Language, was in direct defiance of federal laws that prohibited displays of Native traditions, making the film “an embodied refusal of settler-colonial interference in Indigenous cultural continuance.”[ii] The “subversive performances” that were captured on film were met with “colonial resistance and government interference” during production, with a spy from the Bureau of Indian Affairs filing a complaint about the “dances and gatherings week after week [that] are ruining our Indian boys and girls.”[iii] Myles continued shooting in opposition to the law, and produced a time capsule documenting Native customs and acts of rebellion that are critical to the study of American history.
The backstory of THE DAUGHTER OF DAWN, however, has long been thought to be shrouded in mystery, as many believed there was very little published about the film at the time of production, and it appeared to have been screened only a few times upon its release in 1920. Research in the AFI Catalog contests this assumption of obscurity, demonstrating with sources dating back over 100 years that the film did indeed receive coverage in industry trades and local newspapers, as well as having exhibitions across the U.S. Despite the attention paid to the film in the early 1920s, the six-reel feature disappeared without a trace for nearly a century and was presumed lost until a private detective in North Carolina was compensated for his work with cans of silver nitrate prints. The investigator took his earnings to the Oklahoma City Museum of Art, where the film was identified and acquired with financial support from the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian, in 2005. THE DAUGHTER OF DAWN was restored, and in 2013, it was inducted by the Library of Congress into the National Film Registry for preservation as one of America’s greatest achievements in cultural, aesthetic and historical filmmaking.

As suggested in several modern articles, Myles was known as an outspoken and temperamental actor with a penchant for alienating himself from studio moguls. Other sources contend that his reputation was tainted when he was charged with “conspiring to violate neutrality statutes by smuggling weapons and ammunition to Mexico during the Mexican Revolution.”[viii] Whatever his offense, Myles was reportedly “black-balled” by the industry and was looking for new, independent outlets when he was approached by one of the Texas Film Company’s founders and executives, Richard E. Banks.[ix] The two had reportedly met on a set in 1916, and Banks was eager to employ the “fiery director” for his new business.[x]

Newspapers published at the time of production touted that many of the film’s actors were educated at the Carlisle Indian Industrial School, an institution notorious for its efforts to culturally assimilate Native American children by isolating them from their families, forcing them to shed their authentic clothing, speak only English and practice Christianity. Although this method of effectively decimating ancient traditions was inconsistent with the intension of the filmmakers – to represent Native American life authentically – assimilation was generally perceived in a positive light by white Americans, and the mention of Carlisle graduates was ironically likely meant to give the picture greater credibility. Camera! stated that the former Carlisle students “will materially aid in transferring the true history of the Indians in their peaceful pursuits”[xvi] but failed to acknowledge that the performance of Native customs subverted federal laws.

Perhaps the most consequential exhibition took place in the East Room of the White House on November 20, 1920, for President Woodrow Wilson, who received an introduction to the film by Banks, Edward McManus (an executive from Hearst-Vitagraph), and Oklahoma Representative James V. McClintic.[xxiii] Although Wilson was an advocate of assimilation, he credited himself with ushering in a new era in which the U.S. government and Native Americans could co-exist on equal ground, announcing in a rather patronizing phonograph message shortly after his election that “the Great White Father now calls you his brothers, not his children.”[xxiv] The depiction of Native Americans defying federal law by enacting their customs on screen in THE DAUGHTER OF DAWN may not have been regarded as overtly subversive at the time, but the projection of the film at the White House was a momentous expression of Native cultures in the halls of government that oppressed them.

Nearly a century after its initial release and its disappearance, THE DAUGHTER OF DAWN was restored and made its world premiere in June 2012 at the deadCenter Film Festival in Oklahoma City. Milestone Films then licensed the picture from the Oklahoma Historical Society for worldwide distribution and performed a 2K digital scan for its Blu-ray and DVD release.[xxvii] Comanche composer David Yeagley, who hailed from Oklahoma City, was commissioned to write a new score, and students at Oklahoma City University recorded the piece as a class project.[xxviii] Special screenings were organized by the Oklahoma Historical Society for members of the Comanche Nation and the Kiowa Tribe, and these events proved to be very emotional, as audiences recognized long-lost relatives and helped identify some of the performers.[xxix] For a time, THE DAUGHTER OF DAWN was streaming on Netflix, giving new viewers insights into ancient customs through the lens of white filmmakers, and projecting the story of an indefatigable feminine protagonist who was not beholden to traditional stereotypes and tropes. Dawn, in the title role, was independent and strong-willed with the agency to recognize her own power in a way that was rarely portrayed in early American cinema.[xxx] As a woman who stood up to authority to preserve her integrity, Dawn’s story represents the plight of her fellow Native Americans as they continue in their struggle to safeguard ancient cultures,[xxxi] and draws a parallel to the survival and preservation of the film, itself.