Netflix came out strong for Indigenous Peoples’ Day this year with the release of Free Leonard Peltier, which is one of the best documentaries of the year, and certainly one of the best documentaries Netflix has released this year. Directed by Jesse Short Bull and David France, the film explores the life of Leonard Peltier, an Indigenous rights activist who spent nearly 50 years in prison following his controversial conviction for the murders of two FBI agents. Even if you already know how this story ends, it’s still a journey worth taking, as the film explores the reasons why Leonard became such a lightning rod for activism within the Indigenous community, and also a point of contention regarding his release. The documentary makes a compelling argument that his case was deeply flawed, and that the circumstances surrounding his conviction cannot be separated from the larger history of how Indigenous populations have been treated in this country.

We do get plenty of hard-hitting documentaries about the Indigenous populations of the United States, and some of them fly completely under the radar, like Trinity, a documentary that explored the impact of nuclear testing on Indigenous communities living dangerously close to the site of the first atomic bomb test. There’s also Lakota Nation vs. United States, which I thought was a wonderful documentary that explored not just a specific problem, but also gave broader historical context. And then, of course, there was Sugarcane, which managed an Academy Award nomination for Best Documentary Feature. Free Leonard Peltier is another documentary that feels perfectly positioned to appeal to the documentary branch, and I would love to see it get that recognition. However, I do think that due to our own educational failures, the film suffers slightly from feeling like it needs to broaden its story instead of spending more time specifically on Leonard Peltier. Don’t get me wrong, this is going to be a very positive review, because I think this documentary has an enormous amount of merit and delivers some incredibly strong messaging. But I also think there is a balancing act here that doesn’t always work in the film’s favor.

On one side, we have the story of Leonard Peltier, how he became an Indigenous rights activist, how he became caught up in the retaliatory practices of the FBI, and how the case against him was stacked with deeply questionable evidence that ultimately led to his conviction. On the other side, we have a broader overview of how Indigenous populations have been mistreated throughout American history, and specifically within the last century. The film doesn’t need to go all the way back to the Trail of Tears to make its point. Even in more modern times, Indigenous voices have struggled to maintain their identity and autonomy within a system that often seems expertly designed to remove those very things and marginalize these communities wherever possible. I think we’ve made a lot of progress, so to kids growing up in 2026, some of the events depicted in this documentary may not make as much sense. But there’s that old adage about those who ignore history being doomed to repeat it. Therefore, watch this film. Because one of the things Free Leonard Peltier does exceptionally well is remind us that the civil rights struggles of Indigenous populations weren’t confined to some distant chapter of American history. These were things happening within the lifetimes of people who are still alive today, and the consequences of those events are still being felt.

I do think the film’s need to explain the plight of Indigenous populations to what it presumes is a broader audience slightly diminishes the end product, because it takes away from Leonard’s specific story. For example, when we start exploring his appeals process and the political momentum behind efforts to secure his release, the documentary essentially jumps from Bill Clinton to Joe Biden, leaving an enormous gap in between. What happened during the administrations of George W. Bush, Barack Obama, and Donald Trump’s first term? What was happening with the lawyers fighting for Leonard’s release? What was happening inside the prison? How was Leonard responding to the continued rejection of his appeals, and how did the movement to free him evolve over those decades? That’s all part of the Leonard Peltier story, and I would have loved to spend more time exploring it. Instead, the film frequently returns to the broader history of discrimination against Indigenous populations, reminding us that this wasn’t some simple misunderstanding or isolated incident, but rather part of a much larger pattern of mistreatment. And while that context is absolutely meaningful, I do think it comes at the expense of the individual whose name is in the title.

There’s something particularly frustrating about recognizing that the documentary probably feels obligated to provide all of this historical context because our educational system has done such a poor job of teaching it. We have spent generations reinventing American history in a more optimistic manner that favors the colonizers, celebrating the men and women who journeyed west in pursuit of manifest destiny while minimizing the experiences of the Indigenous populations who were already living there. And now we have an administration that seems to have absolutely no patience for teaching stories that acknowledge racism, historical violence, or anything that might complicate the notion of the American dream. It’s not that kids in high school don’t know the civil rights movement happened. Our schools are populated with too many children from minority communities for those stories to have been completely forgotten. But understanding the civil rights struggles of Indigenous populations, separate from the other movements occurring around the same time, is something entirely different. And that’s where Free Leonard Peltier frequently finds itself deviating. I’m not suggesting that the information being presented comes completely out of left field, or that it isn’t important. It absolutely is. But the documentary is trying to accomplish two different things simultaneously, and I think one of those things ultimately suffers because of it.

What’s interesting is that Free Leonard Peltier accomplishes all of this within a fairly reasonable runtime for a documentary feature. At approximately an hour and 50 minutes, this isn’t some sprawling four-hour examination of American history. It moves at the pace of a conventional feature documentary, which means the filmmakers are cramming an enormous amount of information into a relatively limited amount of time. And instead of sacrificing some of the broader historical context, they end up sacrificing chunks of Leonard’s story. Much of what we hear directly from him comes from archival interviews, including material recorded decades ago. I understand that not every documentary crew has access to its subject while that person is incarcerated, and getting contemporary interviews on camera may have been unrealistic. But I still wanted more of Leonard’s personal experience, more of the legal battles, and more of the people who spent decades fighting against the government’s insistence that he was guilty. Those are the details that could have helped transform this from an excellent documentary about an important movement into an even more compelling portrait of the man at its center.

One of the more fascinating elements of the documentary is seeing how Leonard’s case attracted attention far beyond the Indigenous community. Marlon Brando even makes a brief appearance through archival footage, reminding us that his advocacy for Indigenous rights was not simply some passing celebrity fascination. He recognized the importance of these struggles at a time when many other prominent figures were content to ignore them. But perhaps the most persuasive argument for reconsidering Leonard’s conviction comes from the involvement of former federal prosecutor James Reynolds, who worked on the case and eventually advocated for clemency. Think about that for a moment. Someone who participated in the prosecution ultimately came to believe that the case had been mishandled and that Leonard deserved relief. If you’re on the fence about whether Leonard Peltier should have been released, I think that’s probably the moment most likely to change your mind. There are plenty of people who will dismiss the arguments of activists or assume that anyone advocating for his freedom must have some political motivation. But when someone involved in prosecuting the case acknowledges serious problems with it, that should carry an entirely different kind of weight. Leonard was ultimately granted a commutation by President Joe Biden in January 2025, allowing him to serve the remainder of his sentence under home confinement. It wasn’t a pardon, and it didn’t overturn his conviction, but it was the culmination of a battle that had lasted nearly half a century.

Free Leonard Peltier also comes with audio description from Iyuno, and I continue to be increasingly impressed with their approach to the medium. They seem willing to step away from some of the more traditional norms of audio description and embrace a more well-rounded, verbose experience that doesn’t feel quite so constrained by the conventions that have dominated the field for years. Especially with documentaries like this, where archival footage, historical photographs, and visual information can play such an important role in establishing context, having a strong audio description track is essential. I appreciate that Iyuno seems increasingly committed to finding ways to make that experience more comprehensive. This is exactly the kind of documentary where accessibility shouldn’t feel like an afterthought, because the entire purpose of the film is to educate an audience about a story that deserves to be heard.

I think Free Leonard Peltier is an excellent documentary that deserves to be prioritized on your watch list. I would love to see it land on the Academy’s shortlist for Best Documentary Feature, if only because that recognition would help bring additional attention to Leonard’s story. Netflix certainly has the resources to campaign for it, and I think the film is strong enough to warrant serious consideration. My criticisms aren’t really about the quality of the information being presented, but rather the allocation of time. I wanted more Leonard Peltier in my documentary about Leonard Peltier. I wanted to understand more about the decades he spent incarcerated, the legal strategies employed on his behalf, and the political obstacles that kept him behind bars even as questions surrounding his conviction continued to mount. But I also recognize that the filmmakers are trying to reach an audience that may know absolutely nothing about the American Indian Movement or the history of Indigenous civil rights. And perhaps that’s the unfortunate reality of making a documentary like this in 2026. Before you can tell the story of one man, you have to explain the history of an entire population that our country has spent generations marginalizing.

Free Leonard Peltier is an important documentary, not just because it reminds us how quickly rights and freedoms can be taken away, but because it stands firmly in the path of an educational and political movement that seems determined to scrub uncomfortable stories like these from our history books. It’s a film about injustice, perseverance, and the extraordinary lengths people will go to when they believe the system has failed them. It’s also a reminder that progress isn’t necessarily permanent, and that the struggles we might prefer to think of as belonging to another generation are often much closer to the present than we realize. I wish the documentary had spent more time exploring Leonard as an individual, but I can’t deny the power of the story being told or the importance of the history surrounding it. Free Leonard Peltier may be trying to tell two stories at once, but both are stories that deserve to be heard, and the fact that our educational system has failed to adequately teach either of them might be the strongest argument for why this documentary needs to exist.

Fresh: 8.6/10