Wind River

Taylor Sheridan’s 2017 film opens on a body in the snow on a Wyoming reservation, pairing local tracker Cory with a young federal agent. It closes on a claim: missing person statistics are compiled for every group but Native American women. NamUs and NCIC do hold entries for Indigenous women, but the US Government Accountability Office reported in 2021 that the true total is unknown: federal databases lack comprehensive national data and tribal police need not report. The card is absolute; the documented problem is undercounting. The argument outlived the film. When Sheridan said in 2023 that it had changed a law, Cherokee attorney Mary Kathryn Nagle answered that it spreads the myth that the FBI investigates such cases, while IllumiNative credited advocacy, not a movie. The Wyoming on screen is largely Utah: the unit worked around Park City, climbed higher chasing snow as spring came, and used snow machines. Nor is this his first film as director: he is credited on 2011 horror film Vile but disowns it. He won the Un Certain Regard directing prize at Cannes, on a French, British and American production. A good fit if you will take a thriller that doubles as advocacy and check its closing claim. Not for anyone who cannot sit through a sexual assault shown directly in a flashback.