There are stories that linger like echoes—stories not just told, but felt. Amanda Strong’s latest short, Inkwo for When the Starving Return, holds that echo in its 18-minute runtime. It’s a call, a caution, and a promise—woven through Indigenous storytelling, graceful stop-motion, and a powerful assertion of strength.
Inspired by Richard Van Camp’s graphic novel Wheetago War, Inkwo follows Dove (voiced by Paulina Alexis), a gender-shifting warrior on a mission to protect their community from an oncoming wave of ravenous wendigo-like creatures. Their guardian role is activated through inkwo—medicine embodied in both ritual and physical form. It’s deeply symbolic and visually stunning, as the film summons ancient oral traditions alongside tactile animation.
Here’s where Amanda’s touch truly shines: this is not digital perfection. The puppets have weight. You can see the seams, feel the textures. Stop-motion frames flicker with the rhythm of hands at work. It’s intentionally handcrafted, echoing the material labor behind cultural survival. One of the film’s producers noted that Amanda collaborated with seasoned puppet-makers—including creatives from LAIKA—to finally introduce synced dialogue to her practice for the first time
Inkwo debuted at TIFF 2024 and landed in Canada’s Top Ten for the year—further cementing its resonance . It also continued its journey at Sundance 2025 as part of the prestigious Animated Short Film Program. It’s rare to see such cultural integrity wrapped in such cinematic bravery.
What stays with me most? The gender-fluid representation of Dove—not just as a narrative detail but as lived identity. It’s embedded in the animation itself: fluid shapes, dreamlike transformations, and the calm but urgent reclamation of power. The film mobilizes inkwo as medicine in both literal and cinematic ways—bringing healing into motion on screen.
Amanda says in interviews that she spent eight years bringing Inkwo to life. Eight years of community collaboration, puppet-building, voice casting, cultural consultation, and careful craft. And every second shows. The creatures, the textures, the crescendo of Dove confronting the hungry horde—it’s a visual and emotional crescendo that lands like a heartbeat.
For independent creators—especially those from underrepresented communities—Inkwo is a blueprint. It shows how traditional storytelling frameworks and modern animation practices can coexist and inform one another. It’s a story rooted in Indigenous futurism: looking ahead to what can be, grounded in the teachings of those who came before.
If you’re searching for a short film that reverberates with heart, history, and hope, Inkwo is essential viewing. And beyond that—it’s a reminder: making deeply personal, handmade art can shift not just culture, but consciousness.
