Michael Spears Triumphs As Sitting Bull

For Michael Spears, it has been a long journey from his movie debut as young Otter in Kevin Costner’s Oscar-winning Dances with Wolves to his starring role in the HISTORY Channel’s eagerly anticipated docuseries Sitting Bull.

A journey, Spears freely admits, that he almost didn’t begin.

“It actually took my dad a few weeks to convince me to even go try out for the role of Otter,” the South Dakota-born actor told C&I in a recent interview. “They had an open casting call down at the Stanley County Fairgrounds. The line was completely around the other side of the bleachers and sale barn. And I went down there.

“But I said, ‘Well, dad, every movie that I’ve seen Natives in so far, they’re not very cool. They all die. And they go, ‘Whoo! Whoo! Who! Whoo! Whoo!’ And they’re wearing these goofy headbands.’

“And he said, ‘Well, Cinksi ...’ That means ‘son’ in Lakota. He said, ‘Well Cinksi, you’re going to be better. You can go show him what a real Lakota looks and acts like, so make us proud.’ So I did. I went and rode an old nag around a barrel — couldn’t even get her to run. My feet were almost touching the ground.”

Laughing, Spears added: “No, not that bad. But I went around a barrel with an old nag. And lo and behold, I went and rode by the casting director. Elisabeth Leustig was her name, and she has since made her journey to the spirit world. But she came and pulled me out of the line and took my picture. And two and a half weeks later, we were shooting Dances.”

Since then, Spears — a member of the Kul Wičaša Lakota from the Lower Brulé Sioux Tribe of South Dakota —  has appeared in such films as Lakota Woman: Siege at Wounded Knee (1994) , Skins (2002), Imprint (2007), and The Ballad of Lefty Brown (2017), and guested on several  TV series, including Longmire, 1883, Reservation Dogs, and Into the Wild Frontier.

Spears has been a longtime friend of C&I reader favorite Zahn McClarnon since they co-starred in the epic 2005 miniseries Into the West. (The played brothers in the Steven Spielberg-produced TNT presentation, Spears joked, but “I call him sister or auntie now.”) More recently, he co-starred as Runs His Horse, the ill-fated father of fugitive Teonna Rainwater (Aminah Nieves) in the Taylor Sheridan-produced Yellowstone prequel series 1923.

Runs His Horse didn’t make it to the end of the series, Spears told C&I, “But Teonna probably has her own adventures and makes it to California eventually. And whether she’s pregnant or not — well, you would think she would have to be pregnant, from [her brief romance with] Pete Plenty Clouds. She’s got a story too, but you never know what Taylor’s going to do with a character until it’s time.”

Meanwhile, Spears is ready for his close-up in Sitting Bull, the two-part epic docuseries  event executive-produced by Leonardo DiCaprio’s Appian Way Productions, narrated by C&I reader favorite Mo Brings Plenty, and slated to air at 9 p.m. ET/8 p.m. CT May 27 and 28 on The HISTORY Channel.

According to The HISTORY Channel, Sitting Bull “offers an overarching exploration of the remarkable life and accomplishments of the fiercely brave yet humble Lakota chief. In the mid-19^th century, as American settlers continued their westward expansion, they began encroaching upon Native territories. Amid this turmoil, a legendary Lakota leader rose to defend his people, their culture, and their way of life. Unyielding in his resolve, he united Native Nations in an extraordinary alliance, led them in the historic Battle of the Little Bighorn against U.S. Army Gen. George Armstrong Custer, gained worldwide fame with Buffalo Bill Cody, and courageously fought against seemingly impossible odds.

“Told through expert interviews, dramatic yet authentic scripted sequences, and supplemented by rich archival material, Sitting Bull details the seminal moments and key figures in Native American history including the Washita Massacre, renowned warrior Crazy Horse, the Battle of Cedar Creek, and the Wounded Knee Massacre.”

Spears makes an indelible impact as Sitting Bull in the docuseries’ dramatically powerful and scrupulously well-researched scripted sequences, eloquently expressing the iconic warrior’s exhortations and emotions even as he speaks non-subtitled Lakota dialogue. We recently had the opportunity to speak with the veteran actor about the challenges and rewards of portraying such a larger-than-life historical figure. Here is a transcript of highlights from our conversation.

“When you were told you were going to be speaking entirely in Lakota and there would be no English subtitles, what was your reaction?”

When they first told me I’d be portraying Grandpa Sitting Bull and speaking entirely in Lakota, it was an exciting day. I immediately grabbed my dictionaries and started doing my own homework—but I didn’t actually receive the script until I got there. No lines ahead of time. So it was kind of like shooting from the hip.

I worked closely with Nicole Walker, who was a tremendous help both on and off set. We still keep in touch—I talk with her maybe once every couple of weeks. The whole experience is something I continue to grow from.

I’m a full-time student at Cintegléska University in South Dakota, and part of my curriculum is the Lakota language. I’m still learning myself.

“You grew up in a Lakota household, did you not?”

I did. Both my father and mother are Lakota. My mom is full-blooded, and my dad is half. He’s from Kul Wíčasa Oyáte and she’s from Rosebud, South Dakota. But Lakota wasn’t my first language. I started learning it through prayer and song, mostly from my grandpa.

“How heavy a responsibility did you feel portraying Sitting Bull?”

It was an honor, but also a tremendous responsibility. Especially knowing how significant he was—not just as a leader during apocalyptic times, but as the only Itáŋčha, the sole elected leader of the Lakota people. That doesn’t happen often in our nation. Usually, every tiyóšpaye has its own speaker.

Having Lakota producers, Indigenous narrators, and Húŋkpapȟa Lakota consultants on the project helped ease that pressure. Knowing the people had my back meant everything.

Sitting Bull embodied Lakota values—wisdom, generosity, prayer, bravery, respect, and forgiveness. I approached this role with prayer and with the knowledge of my ancestors. Being Titunwan Lakota grounded me. I tried to walk in his shoes. I lost about 45 pounds for the role, because at the time portrayed in the series, he was often starving, surviving on little.

There were moments where I wanted to cry, to scream, to rage—because I was channeling not just a performance, but the collective memory of a people who were hunted, displaced, and still fight to survive. It was intense. It was sacred.

“Playing a historical figure like Sitting Bull—someone as iconic and charismatic as, say, Jesus—how do you even begin to approach that?”

I’ve been acting for years, and I think being spiritually grounded helps. I draw from my life. My approach is always, “What if this were really me?”

Charisma—real charisma—comes from spirit. And Sitting Bull had that in abundance. He was spiritually grounded, wise, and a brilliant strategist.

In Lakota, our language is alive. It’s spiritual communication. So I let the language do the work. When I speak Lakota, it brings life to the performance. It connects me to something bigger than myself.

“Did your castmates treat you differently once you were in character?”

My fellow actors weren’t Lakota, and I think they saw me a little differently once I was in full regalia. It was a living set—we all fed off of each other.

Some of the others struggled more with the language, understandably. I tried to help as much as I could. We rehearsed constantly. I did my best to support them, and they supported me too.

Wearing the wardrobe, seeing each other dressed as our ancestors—it transported us. The costuming, makeup, and direction were spot on. It all helped us go deeper.

“What surprised you most about Sitting Bull as you got deeper into the role?”

His intelligence and his calm. He navigated truly apocalyptic times with grace and foresight. What shocked me most was his ability to forgive, to rejoin his people, to assimilate in some ways. That blew my mind.

There are stories of him sitting calmly with his čhaŋnúpa (pipe) in the middle of a battle. Some say he had a wóčhaǧe, a spiritual protection that kept bullets from hitting him. Those stories filled me with pride. Our people have power. Our ways are alive.

“What do you think Sitting Bull really thought of Buffalo Bill?”

I still think about that. I imagine it was complicated. Sitting Bull faced racism not just from settlers but from within his own people. And Buffalo Bill... well, he turned our way of life into a show. A caricature.

I think Sitting Bull saw through the spectacle. I think he pitied him. Buffalo Bill built fame and fortune off the deaths of our relatives. That had to weigh on him.

Still, Sitting Bull gave most of his earnings away—to the homeless and poor. He didn’t come back richer. He came back and was jailed. Eventually, he was killed by his own people. That was the U.S. strategy—obliterate our political systems, separate families, erase culture.

Buffalo Bill wouldn’t have been anybody without Sitting Bull. And Sitting Bull knew it. But he chose to survive and to tell his people’s truth however he could.

“Did Sitting Bull have a wife?”

Yes, more than one. Some passed away. Toward the end of his life, I don’t think he had a wife. He had a couple of children—one of whom was killed too. I’d have to go back through my notes for the exact details. I kept all of my research, notes, and lines from the project.

“I guess it’s safe to say Sitting Bull didn’t have a pickup line?”

[Laughs] No. Long ago, leadership wasn’t about status. It wasn’t “look at me.” Power came from humility, prayer, and what you gave away, not what you owned.

He was a simple man. He didn’t care for material things. Even the cabin where he was killed—later they exhibited it at the World’s Fair. It was taken from him. There’s nothing left now but legacy.

He gave sacred pipes—čhaŋnúpas—to seven other nations. Through those, our way of life still exists. He’s everywhere.

“Final question—what do you think happens to Runs His Horse’s daughter in 1923?”

I think the story goes on. Maybe she makes it to California. Maybe she’s pregnant. Maybe she lives. She’s got her own journey—and who knows what Taylor [Sheridan] has planned. She could reappear, reinvent herself.