DCist Interview: Tia Lessin
Trouble the Water directors Carl Deal and Tia Lessin |
Tia Lessin's path to her first feature documentary as a director started right here in Washington D.C., and carried her through production duties on some of the biggest profile documentary projects of the past decade, including three Michael Moore films (and his TV series), and Martin Scorcese's Dylan doc, No Direction Home. With her co-director Carl Deal, she has created one of the definitive documents of the impact of Hurricane Katrina, told through one young couple who attempted to weather the storm in the Lower Ninth Ward before being forced to flee on the rising waters. Trouble the Water was a particular highlight of the films we saw at this year's SILVERDOCS documentary festival earlier this summer, and the film is opening today for a brief run here in D.C. at the Landmark E Street Cinema, where Lessin and Deal will be on hand at a number of screenings this weekend. Tia Lessin answered a few questions for DCist about her experiences making the film.
How quickly after meeting Kimberly Roberts and seeing what she'd shot did it become obvious that this was the story you had to tell?
My partner, Carl Deal, and I went to central Louisiana in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina to try to make sense of the horror we were seeing on television. We knew we wanted to tell a personal story and were essentially casting for characters. About four days into the shoot, we met Kimberly and Scott Roberts. They drew us in from the instant we met them—they were hard edged, self-described street hustlers who were also incredibly warm-hearted and generous of spirit. They had an extraordinary story to tell about their survival, and they also had a journey ahead of them. We were eager to see how it would turn out for them, and felt that an audience would be too.
It happened that a few days after meeting them, we were driving down to New Orleans, and Kim and Scott wanted to go to salvage what they could from their home, so we invited them along, and that trip provided much of the first act of the film. It was a couple of days later when Kim showed us the footage that she shot during the hurricane. We’d never seen anything like it. It was most definitely not the Katrina broadcast on TV. This was ground zero. It gave us a way to tell a story from the inside looking out, instead of the outside looking in.
So while we continued to follow other characters after we met Kimberly and Scott, ultimately, nobody exposed themselves as honestly and generously as they did. We were captivated by their optimism in a time of great tragedy, and the story of personal transformation that was unfolding before our eyes. All other storylines we followed became secondary to that.
Throughout the course of the movie, after you've met the Roberts and the story shifts from the storm and the immediate aftermath to the long road to recovering and reimagining their lives, your subjects go through some pretty tough times. How do you tread the line between documenting their struggle and the desire to help them out in any way possible?
As documentary filmmakers we are always trying to tell a good story, but also trying to use our cameras and our privilege to expose injustice and seek accountability from those in power, whether it’s government officials or the news media or CEOs. We never act as merely passive observers so we don’t think there is any line to tread.
While shooting Trouble the Water, we often used the presence of the camera to leverage immediate help for Kimberly and Scott and Brian when we could and when the cameras were not rolling, we helped to connect them to resources on the ground. At the same time, we never assumed that they needed our help—they are incredibly resourceful people, and as the film shows, prepared for any situation that may arise.
Now that the film is in the can, Carl and I continue to work with each other, with Kimberly and Scott, and with our executive producer Danny Glover to make sure that Trouble the Water highlights the struggles of people all along the gulf coast and throughout the country. That’s the most enduring kind of help a documentary filmmaker can lend.
By now, we've been inundated with hours upon hours of coverage of Katrina, from the response at the highest levels down to the most personal stories from New Orleans. Apart from Kimberly Roberts' footage, which is certainly an entirely unique perspective, how did you approach the use of other footage in a way that wouldn't seem stale to media-saturated viewers?
We wanted to tell an emotional story, not deliver facts and information or recycle the footage that had saturated broadcast news. And to the extent that archival footage advanced the story, in the moment, we found that it didn’t ever feel stale. To give a concrete example of this, Kim’s camera battery died the day of the storm, so we were limited in what was available to tell the complete story of her journey out of the city after the levee failed. So we searched for other home video and archival news material we thought would approximate her point of view and incorporated it into the first act of the film, along with our production footage and her home video, to give a more complete account of their journey out of the city. We tried to do this in a way that was unobtrusive and believable, and that would help lift Kim and Scott’s voice, and keep the viewer in the moment.
Also, we surgically inserted news reports to critique the way broadcast media covered Katrina. And used additional media (like the chilling 911 calls) to broaden the story from Kimberly and Scott’s to reflect the broader experience of the whole city.
Living in a country where it seems everything is eventually politicized, have you seen many accusations of partisanship in your portrayal of the government's direct negative effect on the Roberts and their community?
We’re filmmakers trying to tell a dramatic and deeply personal story that will resonate with any audience. Of course, everything about Katrina—the neglected levees, the poorest abandoned in the city, the pathetic government response—is political. And it’s against that backdrop that the story in “Trouble the Water” unfolds.
We have yet to be attacked for this film. That the Bush Administration failed miserably in its response to the disaster, and that people died as a result is totally uncontroversial. As is the fact that the Bush Administration failed Kimberly’s and Scott’s community long before the storm. The American people know this all too well, which is why George W. Bush is the least popular president in history.
What was your experience shooting the scenes of the Roberts' first return home after the storm?
The visit two weeks after the storm to the deserted Ninth Ward was a little tense. There were no sign of life anywhere, except for a few stray dogs and the occasional national guard patrol. We were never sure how the guard would respond to our presence since residents were still barred from the city at that time, but the guardsmen we encountered were cordial to us and to the Roberts.
Much of Trouble the Water wasn't shot by you, and was shot on non-professional equipment; how does the ubiquitous nature of video cameras in the hands of so many people change the game for documentarians?
Actually, most of the footage you see in Trouble the Water was shot by our DP, the award-winning cinematographer PJ Raval using professional digital video and Super 16mm film equipment. But the most extraordinary footage of the hurricane—about eight minutes of video—was shot on hi-8 by first time shooter Kim Roberts giving a perspective on the ground that is breathtaking and unforgettable.
We also used other third party material originating in nearly every conceivable format (from DVD to DV to hi-8 to VHS to HiDef). Incorporating different technical formats, different shooting styles and different textures into one film enhanced the raw emotion of Trouble the Water but was an editing challenge handled deftly by T. Woody Richman, our editor.
Only eight minutes? While I wasn't suggesting that it comprised the majority of the film, I still would have guessed there was at least 20-25 minutes there, which I guess says a lot about the power of those images.
Regarding the video shot by Kimberly, I was making a point about the 8 minutes of eye of the storm footage; you are right, there are approximately another 10 minutes of Kimberly’s footage in the film, mainly at the beginning, chronicling the day before the storm. You might have sensed there was more, because we licensed other handheld footage shot by other sources that we used to fill in the gaps after her battery ran out.
You've spent a lot of time immersed in Katrina; of course, you can't stop a hurricane, but in your opinion, how can we avoid catastrophes on this scale in the future?
Katrina was a man-made disaster that was avoidable. Rebuilding the levees so they will protect the city is critical and will go a long way in staving off another disaster. But remember, the government failed the people of New Orleans long before the storm hit and this made a large portion of the city’s residents much more vulnerable to extreme weather—failing public schools, record high levels of incarceration, lack of living wage jobs and lack of decent housing. So fixing these problems needs to be the priority moving forward.
What sort of action, if any, do you hope to inspire in those that see the film?
We want the audience to leave our film talking about what they just saw on screen: feeling the raw power of the movie and what it says about race and class in America, and to also feel the exhilaration of an uplifting human story of survival. We want people to do something—not only about the tragedy of Hurricane Katrina, but about the underlying issues that remained when the floodwaters receded.
Toward that end, we are creating partnerships with faith-based, advocacy and service-based groups around the country that are working on racial and economic justice, sustainable and equitable development and youth empowerment. These groups are harnessing the power of Trouble the Water, engaging people in dialogue and inspiring them to act, so critically important during this election year. Log onto www.troublethewaterfilm.com for a list of partners and actions you can take.
What was the response of the Roberts upon seeing the film for the first time?
When we went to New Orleans, we struggled to get it right, to be true to voices and experiences that were very different from our own. When we started filming with Kimberly and Scott, their only demand on us was to “keep it real.”
It was important to us as white filmmakers from the north to not to follow the easy path so many in the media did by portraying Kimberly and Scott and their community as helpless victims, and also not go the other extreme of casting them as larger-than-life heroes. We were determined to avoid typecasting and, instead, to portray them as they are—streetwise survivors, trying to change their lives and community for the better.
We screened the film for Kim and Scott before we submitted it for consideration at Sundance. We had an idea they might like it, but you never know how people will respond to seeing themselves on screen.” They had asked us to keep it real, and after seeing it, they told us we had. They told us we had done a good job.
The pure chance of running into Kimberly Roberts gave you a film entirely different from the one you set out to make. You've been involved in documentary filmmaking for quite some time now; how much do you find that accidents (happy or otherwise) like this shape what most documentary projects eventually become?
Real life takes place outside the narrow lens of the camera. As a filmmaker who is engaged with the world, I try to respond to what is going on in the moment, not just what’s in my head or written on a schedule. Producing for Michael Moore (Fahrenheit 9/11 and Bowling for Columbine) taught me to aggressively think outside the box and respond in the moment to what is going on around me.
How did growing up in the D.C. area influence the types of films you're involved in now?
My parents were career civil servants (my father worked for the EPA, my mother for the Justice Department) who instilled in me a belief in the critical role played by the federal government in protecting the health, safety and civil rights of Americans in our workplaces and in our communities. So its no surprise, growing up the nation’s capital, that some of my work as a filmmaker, and before that as an organizer, has been holding the institutions of government accountable.
My first job after college was working for the Machinists union, organizing the restaurant workers in the Capitol. We were fighting for living wages for some of the poorest citizens of my hometown who were serving meals to the most privileged, but had no right to unionize.
Very much like New Orleans, D.C. is a tale of two cities—one that is highly resourced, privileged and mostly white and one that is deeply impoverished, under-resourced and mostly African-American. The gulf between rich and poor and white and black is enormous and certainly informed my views as I was making “Trouble the Water” and trying to make sense of Katrina and its aftermath.
Trouble the Water opens today at E Street Cinema for one week only. Tia Lessin and her co-director Carl Deal will attend two of tonight's screenings and all of Saturday's screenings.