Dennis Allen

Back in the late 1970’s and early 1980’s, there was a lot of oil activity going on around the Beaufort Delta. Several big oil companies were in full swing and they were screaming for workers. All the guys my age dropped out of high school to work on the rigs where we could pull in a thousand bucks every two weeks. That was a lot of money in them days. You have to keep in mind that a ‘Grade 10’ was big education at that time.

After years of working two weeks in and two weeks out, I got tired of it and wanted to do something different. My sisters Yvonne and Judy worked at CBC and I kind of liked being around cameras and microphones. I was also getting into playing music with my band, the Rat Trapping Biscuit Eaters. We played the old Trading Post upstairs. So, I was kind of into the entertainment arts.

I didn’t really know what I wanted to do until I watched my mother convocate from a program called Native Communications at Grant McEwan Community College in Edmonton. It was a one-year program that introduced students to the fields of journalism, photography, writing, television production, and advertising. When I saw my mom walk across the stage in a cap and gown to receive that certificate, I knew I wanted to do post-secondary too. But, with my education, the only thing I’d be doing at a college or university was handling a mop pail.

Since I dropped out of high school, the first order of business was to go back to “upgrading” as we called it. It was a sure sign of a drop-out. At any rate, I screwed up my courage and walked into the Arctic College campus to inquire about “upgrading”. The secretary (who was actually the janitor cause the secretary was “sick”) made me fill out a form with six skill-testing questions to see what level I was at. After he checked them off, he said I would be put into Grade 6 math and Grade 5 language arts! I didn’t believe him and attacked him verbally. “You’re the (expletive) janitor, what the (expletive) do you know about upgrading?”

Mr. Kelly, who was the upgrading teacher, just happened to be coming down the hall when he heard me yelling. He remembered me from high school and the look on his face was, “oh, you.” He looked at the score sheet and gave ‘what’s-his-name’ hell.

“Six times six is not sixty-six. It’s thirty-six, you dork,” he said, as he fixed my score. “Be here at nine tomorrow morning, and not a minute later,” he then barked at me. The next morning I was the first one sitting on the steps at eight-thirty.

Long story short, I did one year of ‘upgrading’ in Inuvik, one year of Native Communications and another year of University and College Prep at Concordia College (both in Edmonton), and two years at SAIT in Calgary. I came out with a diploma in Film Studies. And so began a twenty-year career as a filmmaker.

Being a filmmaker has been a very rewarding career. From my first music video with my Arnaqan (cousin) Pete Smith, to walking the red carpet at the Sundance Film Festival, it’s all been very exciting. I’ve travelled all over the North making films about people and their lives. I’ve filmed a group of Dene from Colville Lake to Fort Good Hope, walking eighty miles through the bush with pack dogs carrying my camera gear. I’ve been up the Keele River to film people from Tulita make a moose-skin boat. I’ve been to Taloyoak and Gjoa Haven filming the Canadian Rangers as they went on a rescue mission. I’ve dug up the Mad Trapper of Rat River. I’ve been to Norway to film reindeer herders, and I’ve worked on North of 60 as an intern editor. I’ve been to film festivals across Canada and won a handful of awards for my work.

My proudest moment was winning a best documentary award in Toronto for CBQM, The Biggest Little Radio Station in the North. CBC did a list of best top ten Canadian documentaries to watch, and CBQM is on the list. I’ve tackled really difficult topics, like alcoholism among our people, in my film Crazywater. It scared the living heck out of me ‘cause I was uncover-

ing something that we as Native people don’t like to talk about. But when people saw it, they broke down and cried ‘cause they too had problems with alcohol. There are so many rewards I’ve received from filmmaking over the years—but the best reward is to make a difference in someone’s life.

One of my biggest achievements is giving southern viewers a glimpse of what it’s like to be a Native person living in the North. You see people from down South come up here and do movies about Native people, but you never see Native people do movies about themselves. When we do, it gives the viewer a different perspective—one that they are not used to. When a viewer sees it from our perspective, they have a greater appreciation for our opinions, our outlook, and our values. When I first started making films, 'old-timers' like the late Willie Carpenter from Tuk used to laugh like hell and say, “Hey Dennis, tell ‘em who we are.” I always remember that. People like Willie inspire me to stand up and be counted.

I remember one time when I was producing Suangaan for ICS: this old German couple were watching me film an old Inuk carver at the Great Northern Arts Festival. They asked me in really broken English: Why does the carver create? What spirits is he trying to summon? Since the old timer didn’t speak English, I had to ask the interpreter to ask him in Inuktitut. When he did, the carver replied with a short answer.

“What did he say?” I asked the carver. He said, “Cause he’s broke.” The old couple didn’t understand the word “broke” so I told them he does it to feed the shamans. They were so happy with that answer, they even took a picture of me and them together.