Original subtitles

♪♪ ♪♪

♪♪ Heylah, heylah ♪♪

♪♪ Yee... ♪♪

♪♪ Baby girl lookin' deadly, yeah ♪♪

♪♪ Why she actin' all rezzy? ♪♪

‐♪♪ Rezzy ♪♪ ‐♪♪ Hey, hotter than ♪♪

‐♪♪ A pan of fry bread grease ♪♪ ‐♪♪ Grease, grease ♪♪

♪♪ Have a Native hittin' powwow beats, uh, uh ♪♪

♪♪ Got your auntie in the kitchen like, "No, he didn't"♪♪

♪♪ And got her grandma's skillet like she 'bout to kill it ♪♪

♪♪ In your tepee, creepin' on your booty cheeks♪♪

‐♪♪ Booty cheeks ♪♪ ‐♪♪ Get to snaggin', then you braggin' ♪♪

♪♪ Like, who da freaks? ♪♪

♪♪ Sofkee in the burner ♪♪

♪♪ Hokte, hokte head turner, water, baking powder ♪♪

♪♪ Choppin' up that white stuff ♪♪

‐♪♪ White stuff ♪♪ ‐♪♪ All‐purpose flour ♪♪

♪♪ Gotta mix it right up ♪♪

‐♪♪ Right up ♪♪ ‐♪♪ Hit the Rez ♪♪

♪♪ With the shits, they eats it right up ♪♪

♪♪ Greasy fry bread ♪♪

♪♪ Greasy, greasy fry bread ♪♪

♪♪ Sweat drippin' down her face ♪♪

♪♪ Workin' stove tops ♪♪

♪♪ Greasy fry bread ♪♪

♪♪ Greasy, greasy fry bread ♪♪

♪♪ Slap that dough, slap that dough ♪♪

♪♪ Then watch the grease pop ♪♪

♪♪ Greasy fry bread ♪♪

♪♪ Greasy, greasy fry bread ♪♪

♪♪ Sweat drippin' down her face, workin' stove tops ♪♪

‐(singing along quietly) ‐♪♪ Greasy fry bread ♪♪

‐♪♪ Greasy, greasy fry bread... ♪♪ ‐Shh.

It's a catchy tune.

Aho.

Didn't want to say anything till the ink dried,

but for this year's anti‐diabetes wellness fair

we booked rapper Punkin Lusty.

‐Yes. ‐We've got some great plans.

We're gonna serve big huge fry breads for dinner.

Like, bigger than your face.

Hip‐hop and fry bread.

‐It's gonna be great. ‐Yeah.

Should I play the video again?

‐OTHERS: Yes. ‐No, no.

♪♪ Bread money at the Creek Fest, gettin' paid on that♪♪

‐(both singing along) ‐♪♪ Greasy fry bread ♪♪

♪♪ Greasy, greasy fry bread ♪♪

♪♪ Greasy fry bread, greasy, greasy fry... ♪♪

(taking deep breaths)

Keep it together. Keep it together.

Okay, how are we gonna play this?

Light it up. Tell him everything.

Fuck Punkin. Get his ass fired.

Listen, be professional.

You haven't worked there long enough

to go totally rugged on them.

Maybe he's changed.

Yeah. Be professional.

Go in with a plan. Offer salient alternatives.

Yeah, alternatives.

Alternatives.

Okay, I could use some pitches.

Don't. He could probably use the work.

And when was the last time you got worked?

Oh, he was looking a little fine.

(turns on faucet)

♪♪ Baby girl lookin' deadly ♪♪

(phone ringing)

♪♪ Why she actin' all rezzy? ♪♪

(chuckles): Oh, shit.

Here we go.

Yo, what's up?

Why didn't you tell me?

Why do I got to hear it from my work?

Damn, y'all talking about me at Red Lobster?

‐Why are you coming back? ‐They asked me.

I feel like it's time to take my success and give back

‐to the people. ‐Why don't you take your successes

and send some money to your son?

Heylah, success comes in many different ways.

I'll be sending Big Bear some ends soon enough.

‐(chuckles): Yeah, I bet. ‐Yo, you trippin'.

‐Call your son. ‐I was actually gonna surprise him.

That was the whole thing.

Punkin, fuckface, you can't surprise a kid

you haven't seen in two years.

You know, it's not like you've been at war or something.

I am at war. A culture war.

(sighs) I swear to God you better fucking show up this time.

Hey, since you called, mind if I stay on your couch?

IHS is putting you up at the Best Western,

on the highway, next to the strip club.

‐You should feel right at home. ‐Correction.

They give you money to stay at the Best Western.

But if I don't stay there, I don't pay there.

I get to pocket all them ends.

So, what's up?

You gonna let me stay, then?

♪♪ ♪♪

(Willie Jack gibbering)

♪♪ Have a Native hittin'... ♪♪

Hey, so...

so, what do rappers like to eat?

What do they eat?

My dad likes pizza Lunchables.

You know, with string cheese, stuff like that.

‐Normal stuff. ‐How do you know? Fuck.

Well, I know him.

And, uh, you know... How about we split up right now?

All right?

‐Cheese and hams, deli meats. ‐Mm‐hmm.

Anything you want. Chips and dip.

‐All right. ‐I'll get the cookies.

And, uh, Elora, could you get, like, utensils, paper plates?

‐Y'all don't have plates? ‐Well, Mom historically

doesn't like him eating off the Blue Willow, so...

‐All right. ‐(beep)

(singing along): ♪♪ Greasy fry bread... ♪♪

Excuse me.

Excuse me, I was looking for, uh...

Can I help you?

Plasticware.

Hey, you used to be friends with Bone Thug Dog, right?

What happened?

I didn't see him for a summer.

We grew apart.

We were, like, ten.

He was Jimmy then.

He said you used to be pretty cool.

‐What do you want? ‐Look,

I know you're saving up money to go to California,

but I know those kids ain't as serious as you.

So when you get tired of them,

I'll be able to let you into our group.

‐(scoffs) ‐I mean,

we'd probably have to jump you in or something, but...

(laughs)

You just ganged up on my friend.

What makes you think I'm just gonna jump ship?

Think about it.

I'll find you.

Have fun at your pizza party.

For when my dad gets here.

Only 'cause he's your dad, though.

Thank you.

I was thinking about I should get him a gift, you know?

‐Like a beaded medallion. ‐Oh, yeah, that'd be sick.

Yeah, Native rappers love those.

Probably can't get one in L. A.

Oh, yeah, that‐that is true, that is true.

Know where I can get a beaded medallion from?

‐Auntie B. ‐Oh, my God, bro. Why?

‐Hell no. ‐That's terrible. ‐I had a feeling she'd say that.

‐(laughter) ‐No, bro. Like...

She's the only one I know that knows how to bead.

‐You don't know how to bead? ‐No.

Fucking wish, man.

Yeah.

(indistinct chatter)

‐Yeah. ‐(cheering)

Come on.

I can't. I can't do it, bro.

Come on, she's too scary, bro.

You do it. She's your kin.

(exhales) Let's do this.

Fuck, man, you and your fucking dad, shit.

(exhales loudly)

Skoden.

(door opens)

Auntie, settle down.

It's me and the boys.

Um, we just want to buy some beadwork.

BEAR: Yeah.

You're in luck.

Oh, fuck, man.

‐That's gorgeous. ‐That's fucking tight.

How long did it take you to make that?

These usually go for $350, but since you're friends

of Wilhelmina Jaqueline here, I'll let it go for $40.

This is amazing.

But I don't know if my dad is that into pickles.

What kind of Native rapper ain't into pickles?

Pickles are hot right now.

You don't have anything more like

a hard‐core rapper would wear?

Like a...

spicy pickle?

No, nothing like a pickle.

You talking about like a...

gun or spray paint can or something like that?

Yeah. Or maybe like a microphone?

Could you make a microphone?

When do you need it by?

Tomorrow?

That's no problem, but... (sighs)

it's gonna cost you an extra $50 for that rush order.

‐An extra $50? ‐Hell no.

Take it or leave it.

All right, then. Leave it.

It's not worth it, Bear.

Fine, you've got a deal.

90 bucks.

So, what, we're gonna spend our Cali funds

on this medallion?

We'll make the money back, all right?

I'll sell wild onions.

Mom gots pounds frozen.

Shit, we can even pick them, too, right?

‐MOSE: Yo, Big Bear! ‐All right.

‐I promise, okay? ‐MEKKO: Baby Bear!

MOSE: Young Care Bear with the mean stare.

‐What's up, guys? What's up, what's up? ‐Yeah.

What's up, man? NDN mafia's been on one.

Yeah, they been clowning your pops.

They said your pops was trash.

MOSE: Man, that's their words, not ours.

‐To us, he's the real deal, man. ‐He's the best to ever do it.

He's, like, the Native Jay‐Z.

MEKKO: That means your mom is Beyoncé.

‐Yeah, she's fly. ‐Like a pilot.

Yeah. But for real, though, put your dad onto us.

Yeah, man, tell him we ain't got nothin' but love.

‐MOSE: Mad respect. ‐Unlike some.

‐(hip‐hop playing) ‐But, uh, there they go.

MEKKO: Don't forget that autograph, a'ight?

‐What's up? ‐(engine revs) ‐Yo, what's up?

‐Hey, yo. Your daddy's wack. ‐Skoden.

‐Oh, yeah, you think you're so sick. ‐(tires squealing)

Yeah, at least I got a dad!

WILLIE JACK: Want some more?!

("Greasy Frybread" playing faintly)

♪♪ Got that bluebird bag in her tank top ♪♪

♪♪ She got that white powder... ♪♪

Listen, I wanted to talk to you about your dad.

I know. He called earlier.

♪♪ But we ain't cousins, man ♪♪

♪♪ We from the same tribe... ♪♪

Well, just in case,

‐you know, he, uh... ‐Mom, it's different.

He wouldn't miss a gig.

(Bear grunting)

I'm going out.

With who?

None of your business.

♪♪ Left my heart in Tulsa ♪♪

♪♪ On the corner of Easton and Main ♪♪

♪♪ On the Cain's Ballroom floor ♪♪

♪♪ Soakin' up a bourbon stain ♪♪

♪♪ And I'm goin' back to see her ♪♪

♪♪ Just as soon as I can ♪♪

♪♪ And I left my heart in Tulsa ♪♪

♪♪ On the corner of Easton and Main... ♪♪

I'm David.

What are you having?

A bad day.

Maybe you can make it better.

Well, I'd sure like to try.

I'm Rita.

(bottles clink)

♪♪ ♪♪

♪♪ ♪♪

(sighs)

Fuck yes.

He's rich.

(sighs)

(sniffs)

Did you finally snag yourself a doctor dad?

You are a strong, indigenous woman.

You don't need a man.

Although I am tempted.

There we go.

And is that motherfucking bacon I smell?

Yeah.

Good morning.

Sorry I didn't wake you.

You looked so peaceful sleeping.

(laughs)

This place is amazing.

How long have you been here?

It was actually my, uh, great‐grandfather's.

He ended up losing everything.

My father was poor.

After med school, I made a goal to...

buy it back.

So, you're a doctor?

I am.

Sports medicine is my passion.

I now have a private practice.

I work with all the football players in town.

‐Do you have kids? ‐Yeah, a son.

Ah, very cool.

You?

(sighs): I have three.

I had 'em young.

Uh, they're all pretty grown now.

Yours?

‐He's 16. ‐Ah.

A teen.

Now, that's when they really start to go

‐for the jugular. ‐Aren't they always out for blood?

Well, they say that the frontal lobe doesn't fully develop

until 25, but I'm certain in boys it's later.

I can see that.

I guess sometimes we just have to be there for them.

‐Yes. ‐Mm‐hmm.

Boy needs a dad.

Well, he's got a mom.

I'm sure a very tough one.

You hunt?

Ah. I do.

I harvested that guy when I was young.

I don't get out much anymore.

Archery is my preferred method.

I've shot a bow before.

You should come shoot with me sometime.

Hmm. I'd like that.

(Rita chuckles)

Is that a Confederate flag tattoo?

With feathers on it?

It is.

I was a big Skynyrd fan.

I mean, I still am.

As for the feathers, I just love Indians.

You know, this property here is actually...

it's‐it's Indian land.

My grandfather bought it honestly‐‐

(laughs): before you come to any conclusions.

He, uh, bought it from a Creek man who hit hard times.

Ended up letting him stay on the property

in separate living quarters.

(whispers): Way over there.

(normal voice): And, uh...

let him come into the main house for dinner sometimes.

My best friend is Lakota.

Text with daily.

You know...

I've always been most attracted to Native women.

Dear, you must try the lemonade.

Ms. Francis makes a fine lemonade.

What is that herb you put in there?

Some sort of Indian herb?

Mint.

Ah.

That's it.

Yeah, I got to get out of here.

Are you okay?

Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. It's...

‐Did I say something? ‐No, no, no. It's, it‐it's me.

Okay, bye.

Was it the tattoo?

(groans) Stayed up all night, but you're welcome.

Thank you, Auntie.

WILLIE JACK: Can we see?

‐CHEESE: Show us. ‐Uh...

Look at... look at that.

‐That's a... ‐AUNTIE B: A microphone.

BEAR: Yeah, yeah, I see that, but, like,

‐what's the circles...? ‐You blind?

It's a cord all wrapped up, like.

Oh. Oh. Yeah.

AUNTIE B: What, y'all don't like it?

You know, people pay a lot of money for my work.

All my customers are happy.

If you don't like it, go find yourself

some hippie shit on Etsy.

Nah, it's cool, Auntie. It's cool, right?

Yeah, yeah, it's cool.

‐You like it? ‐(quietly): 90 bucks?

(whispers): Come on.

AUNTIE B: Pay up, cvpon.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got the money.

What's... Yeah, I got the money.

Here you go.

Mind if I count it?

Go ahead.

(clears throat)

("Our Secret" by Beat Happening playing)

CHEESE: I bet I‐I could do that.

(laughing, indistinct talking)

Cheese, bro, do that one...

‐No. ‐BEAR: Yo, yo.

Bear Smallhill in the house.

‐Holy... ‐Yo, Bear Smallhill in the house.

‐CHEESE: Damn. ‐You guys think it looks dope?

‐Ooh! ‐Looks a lot more dope now that we're in the light.

‐WILLIE JACK: Yeah. Look like a real hype man now. ‐Think so?

‐One hundred. ‐Ooh!

You're looking way too comfortable spending my money.

How much did this all cost, Bear?

It's not your money, it's our money, so...

Yeah, our money for California.

Not your dad fantasy.

I mean, fuck, at least you used to ask before spending my money.

‐Our money. ‐(door opens)

(keys clatter)

Were you gone all night?

What's this?

(chuckles): It's a gift for Dad.

It's a microphone with a cord wrapped around it.

It's the perfect gift for him.

(phone vibrating)

(sighs heavily)

(door closes)

You do look fresh, bro.

Have you left yet?

Nah, but for real, though,

my flight leaves in the morning.

I wouldn't be missing this for nothing.

I look forward to seeing Bear.

You know, like the old days.

Watching Godzilla.

Shit, it'd be nice to see you, too.

Okay.

Yeah. I got Bear a little something, too.

Hey, real quick again, how old is he now?

No, of course you don't know.

Damn, I'm just fucking with you.

Damn, why you always acting like that?

‐Always got to jump on my ass. ‐(groans)

But for real, though, how old is he now?

You better not let him down again.

(beep)

Why you always have to sting?

For my son.

Wish I had some of them when I was his age.

CASHIER: How old is he?

Like, 14, 17.

Something like that.

(door closes)

You think Punkin's gonna show?

No.

I just wanted Bear to have his dad.

I guess you can't make people come through

if they don't want to.

We're Indian women.

We have to deal with reality when they go off and play.

And at the end of the day,

we're the ones who have to make it work.

‐Bye. ‐Bye.

♪♪ That's why we're running away, that's why... ♪♪

Up. Little bit over.

‐(phone vibrating) ‐(turns engine off)

What's up, Dad?

Fuck, little man. Something came up.

I'm at the airport now.

‐Flight was canceled. ‐Oh, shit.

‐Are you still coming? ‐Been trying to get a flight,

but, shit, it's too late now, man.

Fuck. Sorry, man.

Damn. Okay.

Yeah, man, I'll just go ahead and book another flight.

I'll probably just come on out, probably like...

I don't know, probably like a week.

‐Okay. ‐So, yeah, I'll just go ahead

and get that taken care of, little man.

Sir? Sir? Is there any way I could rent a private jet?

Hey. (clicks tongue)

Private jet's all booked.

Fuck, man, I'm sorry.

Okay.

I love you, Dad.

All right, man, I'll hit you back soon.

Bear?

Your dad does something you think is really cool.

He's charming, and, yeah, he can be really funny.

He's your dad.

But he is not a father and he never will be.

And if you want him in your life,

it is not gonna be on your terms.

And that is not your fault.

If you can handle this, that's cool.

But if you don't want to deal with this anymore,

I will cut him off.

I will cut off all communication,

and he will not be welcome here.

But this is up to you, okay?

You tell me. You tell me what you need.

(takes deep breath)

(breath shuddering)

I love you, Mom.

I love you, Bear.

(sighs)

I guess there's no more show?

Yeah. (laughs) Fuck this conference.

Let's go home.

(starts engine)

(weapons firing, creature roaring on TV)

I'm gonna take off.

Okay.

‐Bye. ‐(door opens)

WILLIE JACK: Deuces.

(gentle music playing)

(phone dings and vibrates)

FEMALE SINGER: ♪♪ Greasy fry bread ♪♪

♪♪ Greasy, greasy fry bread ♪♪

♪♪ Sweat drippin' down her face ♪♪

♪♪ Workin' stove top ♪♪

♪♪ Greasy fry bread, greasy, greasy fry bread ♪♪

♪♪ Slap the dough, slap the dough ♪♪

♪♪ And watch the grease pop ♪♪

♪♪ Baby girl lookin' deadly, yeah ♪♪

♪♪ Why she actin' all rezzy? Yeah ♪♪

♪♪ Hotter than a pan of fry bread grease ♪♪

♪♪ Have a Native hittin' powwow beats ♪♪

♪♪ Greasy fry bread. ♪♪

Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org