The Man Who Saves the World?

When Gabe Polsky--known for compelling documentaries such as Red Army and In Search of Greatness--turned his lens toward what looks like one of the stranger, more audacious documentary ventures of the year, he delivered The Man Who Saves the World?. The title itself ends with a question mark, inviting us to ask: a savior, a madman, a legend? Or all three?

Here's a look at how the film works, why it matters, and what it says about belief, activism, and the collision of western and Indigenous worldviews.

Strange premise, real stakes

At its core, the documentary follows Patrick McCollum--a spiritual leader, peace-activist, chaplain, and self-described "global connector"--who finds himself drawn into an ancient Indigenous prophecy: one that suggests a man will unite Amazonian tribes and help "save the planet." 

Polsky, as filmmaker, takes us on a journey across continents--from boardrooms to the rainforest--as he investigates McCollum's life, his mission, and his claim. The trailer describes this voyage: "resurrection, Indigenous prophecies, and adventures around the globe." 

This is not a standard "hero biography"; instead it rides the line between skepticism and wonder. Polsky does not simply present McCollum as factually the prophesied one--he grapples with doubt, curiosity and the limits of what such a mission might actually mean. 

Structure and tone: how the film unfolds

Polsky builds the film somewhat like a detective story or expedition: you meet McCollum, you track his claims, you go to the Amazon, you meet Indigenous communities, you see McCollum's work with tribes, governments, and the environment. Throughout, the filmmaker remains part of the narrative--at moments skeptical, at moments awed. Polsky includes his quest as much as McCollum's. 

The tone sways between the absurd and the profound. On one hand, you have a man who claims to "talk to plants" and travels in the Amazon with machete in hand. On the other, the stakes are serious: Indigenous rights, environmental collapse, global diplomacy. 

By mixing humor, adventure, and deep questions of belief, the film tries to keep us engaged. The documentary makes for both fun and thoughtful viewing.

Themes and what sticks

1. Belief versus proof: One of the major undercurrents is: how much do we believe in someone's story when it's so grand? McCollum claims a near-death experience at 15, a prophetic calling, and a role with Indigenous peoples. Polsky investigates but doesn't insist on full verification. The film leaves space for the viewer's interpretation. 

2. Indigenous wisdom and western frameworks: A recurring tension: McCollum (a white American) steps into Indigenous prophecy narratives and Amazon forest activism. The film raises the question: who is telling the story, who benefits, and how does Western and Indigenous knowledge clash or converge? Polsky touches on this directly. 

3. Activism, identity, and "savior" narratives: By naming the film The Man Who Saves the World?, Polsky invites us to critique the "savior" myth. Is McCollum the savior? Or is the proposition itself problematic? The documentary doesn't answer easily--it instead holds up McCollum's work (and the speculation) as a mirror for what we expect from activism and leadership.

4. Spirituality, environment, and global mission: The Amazon rainforest, Indigenous treaties, global peace diplomacy: all act as a backdrop to McCollum's mission. The documentary links ecology to spirituality to politics, suggesting that believing we can save the world may involve all these domains.

What's compelling--and what to watch out for

What works:

• The character of McCollum is genuinely unusual, which makes for strong narrative momentum.
• Polsky's willingness to show his own doubts lends honesty to the film; it isn't blindly admiring.
• Visuals and setting: the Amazon, tribal gatherings, high-stakes diplomacy make this more than a talking-head doc.
• The underlying questions (belief, identity, activism) elevate the story beyond simple biography.

What may trip up some viewers:

• Because the subject is so grand and the evidence somewhat speculative, those wanting hard facts may leave unsatisfied.
• The mix of humor, surreal scenes (machetes in jungle, prophecy talks) and serious issues sometimes creates tonal shifts that feel uneven.
• The potential critique of the "white savior" dynamic is raised but not always deeply interrogated to its fullest extent.

Why it matters now

In a moment when environmental collapse, Indigenous rights, and global connectivity dominate headlines, this film arrives at a revealing time. It asks: can one person make a difference? What stories do we need to tell about leadership and responsibility?

Moreover, it confronts the uneasy paradox: the people most directly affected by climate change and exploitation are Indigenous communities, yet their stories often get filtered through outsiders. By placing McCollum at the center, the film opens a door for that conversation.

It's also a deeply cinematic way to engage with big, intangible ideas like prophecy, spiritual calling, and planetary mission. Because we are so used to activism as something pragmatic, grounded in policy and action, the spiritual dimension here challenges our usual frames.

Final reflections

The Man Who Saves the World? doesn't provide a neat answer. It doesn't wrap McCollum's mission in a bow and say: "Here you go, world-saver confirmed." Instead, it invites us to sit with the question: what if one person believed they could? And what happens when we follow that belief across jungles, tribes, governments, and into ourselves?

As a viewer, you'll likely come away with a variety of feelings: admiration for McCollum's devotion, skepticism about the epic claims, and a renewed sense of how stories--Indigenous prophecy, spiritual calling, environmental urgency--shape how we view the world and our place in it.

In short: this is a film that entertains, provokes, and lingers. It's about a man, yes; but ultimately, it's about what it means to try to save the world--and the price of doing so, whether you succeed or not.

If you're game for a documentary that blends adventure, spirituality, Indigenous activism and a larger-than-life premise, The Man Who Saves the World? is well worth your time. And even if you walk away unconvinced by the prophecy, you'll probably still find yourself wondering: what could belief do--for one person, or for many? Watch the official trailer now.

Native Actor Lily Gladstone Makes History

Today, I share with you some great news! On January 7, in case you missed it, Blackfeet and Nez Perce actor Lily Gladstone made history as the Golden Globes' first Indigenous winner in the category of Best Actress in a Motion Picture Drama. Gladstone, who goes by both she/they pronouns, brought an understated power to their portrayal of Mollie Burkhardt, an Osage woman struggling amid the murders of her family and community by greedy settlers, in Martin Scorcese's "Killers of the Flower Moon."
 

After beginning their acceptance speech with a traditional Blackfeet introduction and a round of thank-yous, Gladstone said something important and inspiring: "This is a historic win, but it doesn't belong to just me. I'm holding it with all of my beautiful sisters. And this is for every rez kid, every little urban kid, every little Native kid out there who has a dream, who is seeing themselves represented and our stories, told by ourselves in our own words, with tremendous allies and tremendous trust from with and from each other."
 

That last statement is filled with both truth and nuance. It's a beautiful sentiment, but Gladstone may also be acknowledging that Hollywood remains a place with rich and powerful gatekeepers. Even in 2024, non-Native filmmakers (allies or not) like James Cameron (the "Avatar" franchise) and Scorcese are most often still the ones helming stories featuring Indigenous People and perspectives.
 

This needs to change. Allies are important, and representation is wonderful. Still, even the most positive representation on-screen is not the same thing as agency -- the ability to tell their own stories, centering their own narratives. And agency, particularly for the Native women without whom this story does not exist and the movie could not function, is largely missing for much of "Killers of the Flower Moon." When Native actors occupy the screen, the movie seems to vibrate at a different frequency. I'm left wondering what could have been had their characters' arcs been less peripheral.
 

Much has been written about the movie by Indigenous People across the nation. From a glowing review by Vincent Schilling, founder and editor of NativeViewpoint.com, to a scathing indictment from "Reservation Dogs" star Devery Jacobs, opinions on the movie vary widely -- and understandably so. The three-hour-plus epic, based on true events, is ambitious, messy, and devastating. Critics praise the movie's effort to highlight Osage history with Indigenous actors in prominent roles but express reservations about its graphic violence and lack of historical context, foregrounding of white characters and lack of an Indigenous screenwriter or director. One thing everyone seems to agree upon, though, is the powerful performances given by Gladstone and other Native People in supporting roles. I, for one, look forward to seeing more from all of them, especially in movies and shows written and directed by Indigenous storytellers.

"Angakusajaujuq: The Shaman's Apprentice"

In the 1980s, an Inuit elder told Nunavut Canadian filmmaker Zacharias Kunuk a story about a young female apprentice who was learning shamanism from her grandmother. In the story, a sick man breaks a taboo and needs to be healed by a shaman. The young woman and her grandmother travel to the underworld, or "the one below," to find the answers to the man's sickness. The shaman-in-training discovers she must believe the teachings of her grandmother and mentor and to control her fears while encountering challenges and dark spirits. Three years ago, the acclaimed Inuit filmmaker began turning the story into a 20-minute animated film, which was named the Best Canadian Short at the Toronto International Film Festival in September 2021. Members of the awards jury at this year’s event released the following statement: 

 

"Zacharias Kunuk's Angakusajaujuq: The Shaman's Apprentice is an enthralling stop-motion that encapsulates an array of textures, sound, and nuanced expressions that collectively invite you into the apprentice's journey in learning traditional knowledge and caring for community while confronting your own fears. You can't help but feel the questions asked of the apprentice are for us all to consider: Who are you? What have you learned?"

 

Kunuk took the world by storm in 2001 when Atanarjuat: The Fast Runner had its world premiere at the prestigious Cannes Film Festival. The film, which won the Golden Camera Award at Cannes, was the first Canadian dramatic feature film ever to be written, directed and acted entirely in the Inuktitut language. Set in the ancient past, the film retells an Inuit legend passed down through centuries of oral tradition. It revolves around the title character, whose marriage with his two wives earns him the animosity of the son of the band leader, who kills Atanarjuat's brother and forces Atanarjuat to flee by foot. 

 

Zacharias Kunuk says his latest film project aims to reclaim Inuit pre-Christian spirituality while experimenting with a different form of storytelling--animation. It illustrates a part of Inuit culture that was "hidden" by colonialism, he said. "I see this short film simply as a tool to start talking about shamanism again, to invite Inuit, especially children and younger generations, to be proud of our rich spiritual traditions and feel comfortable to explore and ask questions about shamanism."

 

Kunuk says he has no plans to stop making films, even though he’s now in his 60s. He continues documenting Elders' stories today. He's been recording interviews with Iglulik Elders who reflect on oral teachings they received prior to colonization. He plans to expand that effort to other communities in the future. "That's what I love to do," he said. "I love to interview Elders because all their knowledge is in their heads."

New Ayahuasca Documentary: "The Medicine"

A recent documentary feature, "The Medicine," reveals the hidden mysteries of one of nature's most powerful and controversial healing remedies -- Ayahuasca. It is a documentary about Amazonian shamanism, introducing Taita ("shaman") Juanito Guerillmo Chindoy Chindoy, both a teacher and student of the sacred plant medicine. As Ayahuasca gains popularity in the West, the film explores the science as well as the lore behind the plant and why it is used to heal. Use of the Ayahuasca brew is both a tradition in Amazonian shamanism and a promising new focus of mental health research.
 

The film follows former NFL Safety, Kerry Rhodes (NY Jets, AZ Cardinals), and actress, AnnaLynne McCord (Power, 90210, Nip/Tuck), as they drink with the Taita experiencing Ayahuasca for the first time -- in its true tradition. Taita Juanito guides them through an authentic ceremonial practice, and they emerge with new insights about their health, their pasts, and their emotional wellbeing. "The Medicine" is narrated by actor Stuart Townsend.
 

"The Medicine" also features leading scholars and authors from around the world exploring the cultural and scientific significance of Ayahuasca, including Daniel Pinchbeck, Rachel Harris, Graham Hancock, Mauricio Diazgranados, Ph.D., and others. This ancient medicine may be a solution to modern problems of addiction, depression, trauma, and disease. The video is now streaming on digital and on-demand platforms including AppleTV, Amazon, Google Play and others. Watch the trailer.

Beau Dick: The Legendary Indigenous Woodcarver

Beau Dick was a Canadian art legend and enigmatic carver from Alert Bay, a small remote village on the Northwest Coast of British Columbia. The Kwakwaka'wakw artist was a heredity chief and cultural activist whose generous and prolific nature exemplified the spirit of potlatch (a gift-giving feast). His remarkable masks have been celebrated across the global art scene as vibrant expressions of West Coast Indigenous culture and a sophisticated crossover into the contemporary art world. Dick had an unprecedented ability to tap into the collective memory of his people and breathe new life into age-old traditions.

Born Benjamin Kerry Dick in Kingcome Inlet, British Columbia in 1955, he first learned the art of traditional woodcarving from his father and grandfather at the age of six. While his carving career began as an assistant to his family in creating totem poles, one of which remains among the world's tallest, Dick's calling lay in making masks. His talent for combining traditional Indigenous techniques with contemporary influences, such as Japanese anime and Mexican art, makes him a standout in the art world, with critics citing him as "one of the most important artists since contact."

The late carver is the subject of the acclaimed 2017 documentary film "Maker of Monsters: The Extraordinary Life of Beau Dick," which follows his life, career and activism. Written, directed, and produced by curator, author, and filmmaker LaTiesha Fazakas and Natalie Boll, the film gives an intimate look into the life of one of Canada's greatest artists. Beau Dick worked within an ancient tradition and rose to the ranks of international success within the world of contemporary art while never forgetting his roots. This moving film captures the essence of Beau Dick and his mysterious enigma as an artist who symbolized Canada's history with the First Nations and the ethical dilemmas faced in reconciling with that colonialist history. Beau was able to use his celebrity to call attention to the injustices done to his people and the environment. 

Even in his activism, Beau relied on his culture to inform him on how to be political. He didn't simply stage protests; he enacted ancient ceremonies, creating a public display infused with spirituality. He challenged the Canadian government on his own terms by using traditional Kwakwaka'wakw political protocol, with slight adjustments for the contemporary situation. He performed a traditional copper-breaking ceremony to shame the Canadian government on two occasions. First, on the steps of the Parliament Building in Victoria, BC, and then one year later on the steps of Parliament Hill in Ottawa. Striking stone against metal, Dick and his entourage broke large copper shields into pieces. They placed the copper fragments in a folded piece of canvas artwork and left it on the steps.

The copper-breaking ceremony is a spiritual and political act that had not been performed in over 100 years. The ritual was a call to action in dialogue with the Indigenous grassroots movement, Idle No More, and a revival of a shaming rite prohibited for over 60 years under the Indian Act. Copper-breaking was once practiced by First Nations across the Pacific Northwest. Endowed with supernatural power, copper occupies a central position within potlatch ceremonies. Since copper was highly valuable and expensive, breaking it represented an act of shaming someone after a breach of law or protocol. 

"Maker of Monsters" illuminates a man whose art and life continue to transcend expectations and boundaries. Beau was more than an artist. He was a leader, an activist, a teacher, a humanitarian and a virtuoso who was larger than life. When he was asked what gets him excited in the world, he thought for a moment, then answered, "Creating an opportunity for somebody else to do something." Watch "Maker of Monsters" on Tubi TV.

"Ze" Film Depicts Shamanism in Modern Mongolia

In 2014, Mongolian filmmaker Lkhagvadulam Purev-Ochir went to see a shaman named Uranbold. Although going to shamans was not a new experience for her, meeting Uranbold shocked her, because a young man of twenty-one in jeans and T-shirt appeared from underneath the shamanic robes and headdress after the ritual.
 

According to Purev-Ochir, "a shaman must balance double lives. He must listen to and guide people who come with problems ranging from infidelity to bankruptcy. He must play the role of psychiatrist, financial adviser, doctor and many more. He must comfort the dying and those they leave behind. And that is just his life outside of school, friendship, and romance."
 

With Uranbold in mind, Purev-Ochir began to form the backstory for "Ze," her feature-length directorial debut. The film tells the story of the budding relationship between a teenage shaman and a young woman, set in the impoverished yurt district of the Mongolian capital, Ulaanbaatar. "Ze" is an exploration of the contradictions of modern-day Mongolia, a country where growing class divisions spurred on by what Purev-Ochir describes as "unfettered capitalism" are thrust against the traditions and beliefs of an older way of life. Caught between those contradictions is the emotionally charged relationship between 16-year-old Marla and the shaman, Ze, a bittersweet love made all the more complicated by the pressures of life on the rough-and-tumble fringes of Ulaanbaatar.
 

"Ze" is a portrait of the hard-scrabble realities of what it means to be a young, urban Mongolian today. Purev-Ochir wanted to tell a story about the bipolar experience of growing up in contemporary Mongolia, where Mongolians lead precarious existences due to ongoing economic instability and underdeveloped social infrastructure. Within this context, shamans play an important role in providing comfort and guidance. Yet they are people, too, living and breathing within the same restraints and freedoms as any other Mongolian.