Reservation Dogs ’ Co-Creator Had Always Planned That Ending

There were Riverdales and Wednesdays, but ask anyone in the know, and they will tell you that the best television show about teens for the past few years has been Reservation Dogs. Co-created by pals Sterlin Harjo and Taika Waititi, the FX series follows four friends—Bear (D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai), Elora (Devery Jacobs), Willie Jack (Paulina Alexis), and Cheese (Lane Factor)—as they come of age within their tightknit Indigenous community in Oklahoma’s Muscogee Nation. The show, which concludes on Wednesday after three seasons, has been revered by critics and fans alike for its spot-on depictions of reservation life that never felt like anything less than a breath of fresh air, a feat that can be credited to the production’s predominantly Indigenous creative team. Reservation Dogs feels both incredibly specific and beautifully universal, touching on serious topics—grief, loss, mental health, growing up—with equal parts profundity and comedy.

When the show began, our four friends, self-dubbed the Rez Dogs, were still reeling from the suicide of their best friend, Daniel. In the final episode, titled “Dig,” which is centered around the death of an elder in the community, we see the Rez Dogs approach grief in a new light and come to a decision about what life holds for them next—mainly, whether they intend to stay on the reservation. Willie Jack decides to stay and help take care of her loved ones, Cheese’s younger age allows him to put off the final decision for a little longer, Elora decides to leave for college, and Bear decides to take a year off, stay home, and figure his life out. It’s a full-circle ending, one that highlights the growth of the characters and the journey that this show has taken all of us on.

Before the finale, I spoke to showrunner Sterlin Harjo about the end of Reservation Dogs, the main characters’ decisions, and the show’s themes of life, love, death, and community. This conversation has been condensed and edited for clarity.

Nadira Goffe: I would love to start where the episode starts: with Willie Jack visiting her aunt—Daniel’s mother, Hokti (Lily Gladstone)—in prison to tell her about Old Man Fixico’s (Richard Ray Whitman) passing. Hokti gives Willie Jack this really beautiful lesson, using vending machine snacks, about how community works and where death and loss fit into that. Is that a lesson that someone taught you or one that you had to find out for yourself?

Sterlin Harjo: It’s something that I have been taught, and I’ve taught myself as well. There’s always this idea, I think, that Native people teach you, give you knowledge and things, and that’s not always the case. So much is leading by example, and you end up realizing that you’re experiencing the lesson by observing and being. There’s a lot of emphasis on don’t ask too many questions, listen to your elders. If you do that, and if you observe, you usually walk away with teachings. Of course, I’m writing a TV show, so I thought a cool way to show that is with the character Hokti illustrating it to Willie Jack.

I know that the show has an ensemble cast, but when it started I really saw it as Bear’s story—I guess because he has the most growing to do at the start. But by the end, especially with this finale, I’m seeing it more as Willie Jack’s, because she’s stepping into this role of being the one who is taking care of the community. Did you always intend to shift focus that way?

No. What I always intended was to make a show about community, and Willie Jack happens to be the person that is closest to learning about how to care for that community. But everyone’s sort of involved in that, and so, for me, Reservation Dogs isn’t just about kids—it’s this whole community. That is essentially what everyone learns by the end: We are a part of this thing, and you’ve got to take care of it—Bear and Willie Jack, specifically, but also everyone. That’s what I wanted the finale to illustrate, without a lot of “here’s the lesson you’re going to learn today.” Everything that happens in that finale is exactly what happens in my community when someone passes.

What is it about Willie Jack that puts her in that best spot to represent taking care of the community?

I think that Willie Jack is the most sensitive, and that’s sometimes hidden by her tough exterior. She’s the most sensitive to the community. She’s cared for by her family. Lots of people were there for her. She loves her friends, and she can see the value. That’s why she’s always struggling with should I leave or should I go? … I’m going to stay because this is important, and I don’t know how much time I have left with my parents—I’m going to stay here. I think that we have holy people in our communities, people that are in touch with something bigger. And I think Willie Jack is that person.

I think that you can see it a lot in her, especially since the final episode is centered around the funeral of Old Man Fixico, someone Willie Jack was close to. The show started with the kids grieving Daniel but not really knowing how. Now it’s ending with them grieving again, but in perhaps healthier and wiser ways. I think most people would make a happier throughline for a show; what was important about grief and loss that made you center it as the full-circle moment for the show?

People talk about stakes in storytelling. What are stakes? I’m from Oklahoma, with Southern Gothic country songs. What we focus on a lot of times in rural areas are the highest stakes, and that is life and death, that is losing people that you love. I think it’s because of the strength of community in rural areas, why that’s so important and held to such a high interest.

Sometimes I’m confused about how other artists and stories don’t focus on life and death. I’m like, “Are you kidding? Y’all know what’s happening here? Are we distracting ourselves or what?” Because I think that is the biggest mystery to me, and that’s what storytelling is to me: It’s about trying to make sense of some things. I don’t necessarily think it’s sad, but I guess it is sad—I’ve been a pallbearer 14 times. I grew up in a community where I had to be there for people. And through learning how to take care of people in times of grief, I think you learn how to conduct yourself, and you learn how to be a part of a community and be selfless in times when people need you. I think that that’s one of the bigger lessons of Reservation Dogs.

The flip side is also knowing when it is time to choose yourself—it’s another way of honoring the sacrifices that other people have made for you to get to a certain point in life. Elora, specifically, is going down that path. Did you always know that Elora was going to be the one to leave?

I did. I always felt that she would be the one to leave because I think that her part in this is that she’s a person who benefited from community. People took care of her because of what happened to Cookie, her mom [who died when Elora was young]. People were there for her to take care of her. And even when she didn’t realize they were, even when she fought against it, people always had Elora’s back. The reason they had her back is so she would choose to live her life in a way that her mom could never live. They had her back so that she could choose herself and go on and do something great, and in that way, give back to them.

I was really moved by her final conversation with Bear.

Oh God, it destroys me every time.

I cried. It’s really important to me that they said I love you to each other because I don’t think we, especially in film and TV, value the platonic “I love you” as much. Why did they say those words?

I don’t know. I just know that they needed to say it. I say it to my friends and my friends say it to me. Literally, our catchphrase of “love you bitches” is something that was started with Tazbah [Chavez], Taika [Waititi], and Bird Runningwater. It’s an easy way to tell your friends you love each other. I’ve also told them “I love you” without calling them bitches, too, though. I think that was this moment where we got to see Elora and Bear tell each other “I love you” without the protection of making it a joke. And they really meant it.

It’s important to say it, always, but I think especially in moments of change and goodbyes. There are a lot of goodbyes in this episode. One of my favorite ones is the spirit William Knifeman’s (Dallas Goldtooth) final scene with Bear. Why was it important for Bear’s spirit guide to say goodbye? Why couldn’t he stay with him and guide him until the end?

I think that William Knifeman was there for a particular reason, and that was that Bear had lost his best friend. Yes, William Knifeman is a spirit, but he’s also this side of Bear that needed to protect himself and to have something to help him grieve and deal with the loss of his best friend. In that way, it felt like Bear had fully healed, giving back to his community, teaching other people how to heal. And it was time for William Knifeman to go. He could have kept going, but it felt right. Also, who knows if he’s not coming back? I don’t know.

I’m not Native, I’m Black, but I do have that experience in the sense that my uncle, Daniel, died from an overdose when he was 23, and I was a teen at the time. So even just with the name alone, I thought, Oh, maybe this show is where I need to stay for a second. 

We totally all have a Daniel. We all know what that feels like. It doesn’t matter where you’re from, or your background. I knew that we had touched some universal truth because of that.

I want to talk about a few specific characters for a second. I want to talk about Big (Zahn McClarnon). I love Big so much. When I knew that the show was ending, I was like, OK, the show is going to tell me that the kids are OK, but is it going to tell me that Big’s going to be OK? And I feel like it does, in a way. Where do you see Big at the end of this show? Has he stopped blaming himself for Cookie’s death and all the things that he was burdened with?

I think he has, because I think he’s found love, and to find some love, you have to love yourself a little bit. Forgiving himself allows him to love himself. I also think that Big, though funny and goofy, is one of the most grounded characters. He takes care of people. He really does. He watches out for people. He also can tap into his emotions readily and cry. I think he did a lot of healing, especially in Season 2. I think he’s been healing through the whole show, so I have this really warm spot in my heart about where Big goes.

He reminds me a lot of the idiom about how you can’t help anyone else until you help yourself first. When you’re on a plane, you have to put on your oxygen mask before you put on someone else’s. For Big, it was like he’s putting on everyone else’s oxygen masks, but what about his? And so, as funny as it was to see references and jokes about his sex life, I felt that these are the moments that he deserves.

Totally. He does. I think he and Bev are a great couple. People rooted for them, too! I love that.

I’m sure that everyone has asked about this, but we’ve got to talk about Ethan Hawke for at least a second. How did he get involved in the penultimate episode? 

He is a friend. He wrote a graphic novel called Indeh. I had a take on an adaptation of it that he loved, and we worked together and wrote a pilot and more scripts. We’re developing that show, and really built a friendship off of that. He was a big fan of Rez Dogs, and we talked about putting him in it. I was like, Oh, I know the part for him. And so, in the writers’ room when we were outlining it, we really just did it for Ethan Hawke. Luckily, everything lined up, schedule-wise, and he did it.

He’s been a really good buddy of mine. When Reservation Dogs came out, we had already been working together, and my life was kind of turned upside down. I talked to him about it, and he was like, “The best thing that you could do, that I can tell you to do, is get therapy. We need that.” It’s a crazy thing that happens when, all of a sudden, everyone’s paying attention to what you made. And so I did. He’s just been a really good friend, and vice versa. Hopefully I’m there for him when he needs it. We have multiple projects that we want to do together. We have a show that we will be developing when the strike’s over. I was very happy to get to direct him in the finale.

What are you trying to say about goodbyes with this final episode and with the show as a whole?

Fans really came to love this show, and I don’t take that lightly. I have so many messages from people who lost a son just like how they lost Daniel, or they lost their grandpa and they would’ve loved for their grandpa to see this show because it would’ve meant so much to them. I get messages like that all the time. I get how high-stakes this show is for Native people and people in general, but in our community, it’s such an impactful show because a lot of us saw ourselves for the first time in a truthful way, and that’s so meaningful. I knew people would be really upset that we’re leaving.

I feel like, when Elora is hugging Bear and tells him, “I’m going to go, but it’s going to be OK. OK? It’s going to be OK,” it’s also me saying that to everyone. All of us that created this show, knowing how hard it is to end it, and how much of our heart it is, telling people we’re going to go. But it’s still there. We still made it, and it’s still there to do exactly what it’s done this whole time. It won’t leave—it still continues, even if it’s not on. I imagine what the kids are doing now. It’s a world that was created so it can keep going. And so it did feel like one big goodbye.

I’m very, very proud of it. I think it’s great. It feels like my homage to Robert Altman. There are a lot of characters, so I used some specific techniques of Robert Altman’s; I remember watching Nashville before I was making it, just because there were so many characters and overlapping things happening at once.

Yeah, I’m just really proud of it. I hope people love it.