I Pity the Country: Leanne Betasamosake Simpson builds on a legacy of Indigenous resistance in new music video

54 years ago in 1968, the NFB released a short film which has since been hailed as "Canada's first music video." It is an incredible piece, crafted entirely from archival imagery which told the story of stolen land and colonial betrayals faced by Indigenous communities in North America.

The director of the video, who also performed the soundtrack, did not appear in the video, but if you stay to the end, the final card reveals: "This production was created by a film crew composed of Canadian Indians who wish to reflect the traditions, attitudes and problems of their people."

That music video was called "The Ballad of Crowfoot," and the director and singer — and the first Indigenous person to direct an NFB film, I might add — was Mi'kmaq/Scottish folk singer and activist Willie Dunn.

54 years later, premiering just ahead of National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, artist Leanne Betasamosake Simpson has crafted an anthemic cover of Dunn's "I Pity the Country." And she's paired her vocals with the keen mind and eye of Indigenous co-directors Lisa Jackson and Conor McNally to premiere this powerful music video. The piece simultaneously honours the legacy of Willie Dunn and the Indian Film Crew's use of archival images, while also masterfully pushing the conversation around Indigenous issues in this country many steps forward.

Watch the music video premiere:

Dunn passed away in 2013, but in projects like this, his influence lives on. In the lyrics of this song, Dunn had a clear critique for all Canadians: "I pity the country, I pity the state, and the mind of a man, who thrives on hate." This video embodies that critique and is a political call to action that demands an answer for the next generation.

We connected with Simpson and Jackson to talk about the style and intention of this moving work of art.

This song "I Pity The Country" was released originally in 1971 by Willie Dunn. What struck you when you first heard it? How do you define its legacy?

Leanne: I loved how Willie took the idea of pity — which is so often deployed in colonial contexts to as a "feel sorry" for the realities that Black and Indigenous peoples find themselves in because of the violence of colonialism or the transatlantic slave trade — and turned it around. And not just turned it around, but offered it up in a folk song, a scathing analysis of all the ways colonial power manifests itself in daily life from capitalism to police violence to pollution.

I originally performed the song for the Native North American Gathering at the National Arts Centre in Ottawa in 2018. I wanted to play a Willie Dunn song because he had passed on and I wanted him to be part of the gathering in some way. That show was the night that the man that murdered Colten Bushie was acquitted, and the news was delivered to the audience minutes before we took the stage. For my band and the audience that night, Willie's words not just resonated, but connected that moment to a much larger history of resistance.

Lisa: The first time I heard the song I was in a car with Cree filmmaker Tasha Hubbard when she said she was going to play it at the end of Birth of a Family, her Sixties Scoop documentary. The song had such a quiet, honest power and dignity, and I found myself playing it over and over again.

When Leanne asked me if I would create a film for a song on her upcoming album, I was traveling so I played the audio file she'd emailed on my phone. There was this soaring remake, and it's no exaggeration to say I was electrified. It was an immediate yes.

This interpretation of the song comes in a very different tone, which is abruptly underscored by a smash cut in the video. What is the story you wanted to tell with this song and music video in 2023?

Leanne: Indigenous peoples in Canada have a rich history in terms of organizing and mobilizing that is hidden or unknown to many Canadians. The NFB initially, through the Indian Film Crew and the CBC, have an archive of some of this resistance. In this moment of climate catastrophe and rising fascism, I think it is crucial to revisit this and remind people of the importance of standing up, using your voice, and organizing for something different. 

Lyrically, the cover is mostly true to the original, but Leanne, you made one significant edit. Why did you feel it important to add that new line?

Leanne: I changed the line "the pull and they pawn me" to "they rape and the beat me." Indigenous women, two-spirit and queer people are on the front lines. Gender and sexual violence has always been a tool of colonialism, from residential schools to refusing to search Winnipeg's Brady Landfill. I'm an Anishinaabe woman performing a Mi'gmaq man's song from over 50 years ago. I had to believe every word in order to step up to the mic and sing it. 

The music video is entirely crafted from archival clips which really speak to a history of colonial tension around land, religion and Indigenous identity in this country. Can you talk about your curatorial process and found footage approach for this piece?

Lisa: Willie Dunn is an icon not just for his music, but as a part of the groundbreaking NFB Indian Film Crew where he directed the incredible 1968 short film "The Ballad of Crowfoot," which lays out the history of colonization with archival photos and is considered Canada's first music video. He was at the beginning of a shift of Indigenous people picking up the camera. 

As an Indigenous filmmaker, I'm interested in reclaiming the archive. We wanted to capture the push and pull of colonial oppression and Indigenous resistance, sovereignty and joy — and, underneath it all, the land. Archival film is a fascinating time capsule and working with it is some of the best education you can get on how subtle and not-so-subtle colonial perspectives are encoded in film. 

We juxtaposed historical imagery with more modern images of protest to show the legacy of resistance, and included some imagery by contemporary Indigenous filmmakers (Helen Haig-Brown, Alethea Arnaquq-Baril, Caroline Monnet, Caleb Ellison-Dysart) to connect to the growing Indigenous film community. We also wanted to expose the construction of media-making by including the process of filming, with clapboards, audio recording gear, camera-swings, etc. We are always choosing where to point the camera and film is never objective. 

With 50 years between the original and this cover, it feels like a lot is still unresolved, but the video leaves us with a parting thought that "Film is just the beginning." What do you hope this film is the beginning of?

Lisa: There are many arenas where change is needed: youth in care, violence against women, environmental destruction, over-incarceration, the list goes on… It's easy to become discouraged. But we are always stronger when we work together.

Remarkable achievements have been made by our ancestors, who didn't give up. Let us take inspiration from them and support each other to continue their legacy.