On the set of Dark Winds, a show looking back to shape the future of Indigenous stories
The A.V. Club goes to the New Mexican desert to watch AMC's thriller come to life.
Jessica Matten on the set of Dark Winds (Photo: Michael Moriatis/AMC)
The desert appears limitless on the outskirts of Santa Fe, New Mexico, where the ’70s-set, Graham Roland-created Dark Winds is filming season four’s penultimate hour. Walking through this mostly untouched, quiet land, with juniper trees dotting the rugged plains and mountaintops across the horizon, does feel like being transported back in time. (It helps that there are hardly any cars zipping past on U.S. Route 84, which is mere minutes away.) And in a way, this setting has become the entire world for AMC’s drama, which established its base in Tesuque Pueblo’s historic Camel Rock Studios in 2021. The country’s first Native-owned movie studio is a fitting home for this neo-noir thriller, which continues to break new ground with its portrayal of Indigenous characters, culture, and community.
On this blazing summer day in June, the cast and crew are scattered around the scenic backlot in the throes of the last few weeks of filming for the year. Executive producer Tina Elmo tells The A.V. Club that one group is situated a few miles away to work on a night shoot later that will feature a controlled outdoor explosion. Production designers and set decorators are on a soundstage inside Camel Rock Studios, putting finishing touches on a creepy basement set for a major finale moment. Elmo also takes us to the costume department, where a plethora of ’70s-themed outfits occupy the space, and reveals that students from the Institute Of American Indian Arts are interning on set. And on a nearby road, director Chris Eyre is prepping to film Zahn McClarnon chasing after a speeding car.
Before Elmo can take us to witness the latter, she gives a tour of the outdoor filming locations spread out over 100 acres of Camel Rock. On the backlot are sets for the show’s now-familiar Navajo Police Station and Joe Leaphorn’s (McClarnon) home, as well as a newly-constructed diner with era-appropriate signage and decor, including an old-timey record player and a large menu that features items like a Navajo taco and coffee priced at only 10 cents. Elmo says this was built outdoors in only 11 days for the premiere’s big shootout (yes, blood splatter from filming still lines the white tiles). Nearby, production has also built various hogans (traditional dwellings of the Diné) made of logs and mud, including one that officers Jim Chee (Kiowa Gordon) and Bernadette Manuelito (Jessica Matten) visit in this week’s episode. Elmo notes that they’ve often discovered artifacts, like arrowheads, while working here and promptly handed them over to Tesuque’s Cultural Center. In turn, they help mark the spots they shouldn’t use for filming in case other relics are around.
This balmy landscape naturally gives Dark Winds its visual appeal. So, like any Western worth its salt, the sunshine and seemingly infinite space contrast the characters’ inner gloom and turmoil. However, filming on tribal land symbolizes something far more meaningful for everyone involved. “The fact that we are on a sacred site never leaves our minds,” Elmo says. Dark Winds, adapted from Tony Hillerman’s Leaphorn & Chee series of novels, gives the books a welcome update by telling crime stories through the authentic lens of primarily Native writers, consultants, cast, and crew. In the fourth season (inspired by The Ghostway), Leaphorn, Chee, and Manuelito look into the disappearance of a Navajo teen and come face-to-face with an icy German assassin, Irene Vaggan (Franka Potente).
However, the investigation inadvertently forces them to reconnect with their roots. It’s especially pertinent for Chee, who spends the season being pushed around by his fears and hallucinations. In “Nániikai (We Came Back),” written by Shaandiin Tome and Shandton Williams II, he finally admits to Bern that his mother’s death haunts him and that he feels emotionally distant from the reservation because he moved away for several years as part of the 1950 Native American relocation program. And when his mom was dying of cancer, he didn’t bring her home because he was afraid he didn’t belong on the reservation anymore. After opening up about his trauma in episode seven, he decides to do a traditional ceremony with his grandmother that will “connect him spiritually to the land of his ancestors” and rid him of this ghost sickness.
Gordon tells The A.V. Club that Chee’s confession is a pivotal scene meant to represent “how, as Native people, we’re wrestling with these ideas of what it means to be a person and be part of a tribe. I’m taking a lot from my own experiences while playing Chee, and it’s why I empathize with him so much,” he says. “I’m half white, so it always feels like two worlds clashing because you want to assimilate.” When Chee tearfully tells Bern, “I stopped being Navajo a long time ago,” Gordon says the line really resonated with him. “It’s so heavy and feels true to both mine and Jessica’s life,” he adds. Both actors admit this was the toughest but most rewarding filming day, and that there wasn’t a dry eye in the room because of how personal it all felt. Eyre and showrunner John Wirth agree, with the latter adding that he was choking up while watching the dailies, too.
“The reality is, in my teen years, I’d hide the fact that I was Native,” Matten explains. “Growing up, there was a lot of racism in Alberta and Winnipeg. So I just learned to hide a part of myself. How can that not affect you? It was a form of not loving myself, and it’s what my mother went through, too.” Matten adds that having a Native director like Eyre in the room made it special. “This is so culturally embedded in us that a non-Native director wouldn’t have picked up on how we’re feeling, or given us a note about how Chee is basically confessing to his shame of being Native.” The actor feels a certain responsibility in telling this story, or hoping that it will resonate with viewers going through any form of identity crisis: “It’s how the show is still rooted in the present and future, too, right? Hopefully, it can help the younger generations look at themselves with pride, and celebrating that through our medium is a powerful thing.
