If you grew up in the 90s, you probably remember the specific, grainy aesthetic of Miramax-era indies. Smoke Signals fits that visual mold, but it breaks every other rule of the decade. While most 90s films treated Indigenous characters as mystical background props or historical tragedies, this movie let them be funny, petty, grieving, and deeply human.
The "Odd Couple" with actual stakes
At its surface, this is a classic road trip movie. You have Victor, who is all smoldering resentment and athletic stoicism, paired with Thomas, a nerdy storyteller who wears oversized glasses and speaks in parables. They’re traveling from Idaho to Arizona to collect the ashes of Victor’s estranged father.
The friction between them is where the movie finds its soul. Victor is constantly trying to teach Thomas how to "act like a real Indian"—which, in Victor’s mind, means looking stoic and tough like he’s in Dances with Wolves. Thomas, meanwhile, just wants to tell stories about frybread and magic. It’s a brilliant meta-commentary on how people perform their own culture to meet outside expectations. If your teen is starting to notice how media stereotypes work, this is a masterclass in deconstructing them without being preachy.
Dealing with the "Monster" in the house
The movie doesn’t flinch when it comes to Arnold, Victor’s father. He isn't a misunderstood hero; he’s a violent alcoholic who abandoned his family. The film asks a question that hits hard for anyone navigating a complicated family tree: How do you forgive a "monster" who was also, at one point, a savior?
Because the story uses a lot of flashbacks, we see the trauma of a house fire and the domestic violence that followed. It’s heavy, but it’s handled with a poetic touch rather than a "misery porn" vibe. It makes Smoke Signals a foundational entry in our Movies Celebrating Indigenous Peoples: A Family Viewing Guide, specifically because it centers the internal emotional lives of the characters rather than just their external struggles against "the system."
The 1998 of it all
Let’s be real: this is a low-budget indie from nearly thirty years ago. The pacing is deliberate. There are long shots of the road, quiet conversations, and a score that leans heavily on flutes and chanting that might feel a bit on-the-nose to a kid raised on synth-pop and trap beats.
If your teen is used to the rapid-fire editing of modern streaming hits, they might find the first twenty minutes slow. Stick with it. The payoff isn't an explosion or a plot twist; it’s an emotional release that actually feels earned.
Why it still works
Most movies about "forgiveness" feel like a Hallmark card. Smoke Signals feels like a bruise. It acknowledges that you can let go of your anger without necessarily liking the person you’re forgiving. That’s a sophisticated takeaway for a 14-year-old.
It’s also surprisingly hilarious. The "Frybread Song" and the recurring jokes about the local traffic report (which consists of one guy on a roof) provide the levity needed to balance out the scenes of Victor’s father being a terror. It’s a movie that trusts its audience to handle the shift from a joke to a sob in sixty seconds flat. If you want a film that sparks a real conversation about what we owe our parents—and what we owe ourselves—this is the one.
