We were discussing various film ideas when Katrina struck the
Gulf Coast in August 2005. Mesmerized, horrified, and disillusioned
by the events unfolding in New Orleans, we decided this was the
film we wanted to make.
Katrina brought about the largest internal migration in U.S. history,
even larger than that brought on by the Dust Bowl. This would
be a story that would not only affect generations to come, but
one that spoke directly to our country’s complicated history.
The issues of Katrina addressed many of our main concerns – such
as how race, class, and gender affect everyday interactions. We
wanted to tell the story with social issues emerging through people’s
lives rather than relying on experts or celebrities to tell it. We
were also both committed to making narrative social documentaries
that explore the underlying assumptions of documentary film.
We discussed how to make a film about the immense topic of Katrina – and
how to give the life of each of our subjects his or her proper
due, while capturing the scope of the disaster. The focus of the
film would be on the story of people uprooted and displaced — the
Diaspora of Hurricane Katrina. It would ask what it means to be
exiled in one’s own country, with a government that is conspicuously
absent.
Our aim with The Axe in the Attic was to create an intimate
film with the people we would meet, along with an immersion in
the American landscape in which the evacuees find themselves – as
though the viewer was there. It was important for us to reproduce
the raw feelings and weight that such a disaster has on people’s
daily lives.
We felt that integrating the filmmakers into this story would
offer a structure that would allow greater breadth and depth. Separated
by social background, gender, and age, we hoped to integrate two
points of view into our film, believing that who tells the story
is integral to understanding the story. In matters of race and
class this is especially important. Although Katrina damaged rich
and poor alike, divergent outcomes were the inevitable legacy of
the longstanding neglect of the poor.
Turning the camera on ourselves would risk making some viewers
uncomfortable, but, the idea was to break the protective wall of
the camera, to put the viewer in our shoes, and have them ask along
with us some of the tougher questions about the ethics of the situation
as well as those of documentary filmmaking itself.
Even though we wanted to raise questions of responsibility, both
of government and of ordinary citizens, we did not want The
Axe in the Attic to be a message film in any overt sense.
We felt the country had voted against “big government” by
electing George W. Bush. Consequently, the government was not there
when needed. We wanted the viewers to understand on a visceral
level what happens when a trust is broken between a government
and its people. Many stories woven together joined by layers of
sound, music and powerful imagery, we hoped would create this experience
in film.
The title of The Axe in the Attic comes from an oft-repeated
story about the evacuee’s experiences from the floods of
Hurricane Betsy (1965). In order to keep from drowning in your
home, you have to keep an axe in your attic to break through the
roof. This notion serves as a metaphor for the many poor people
who are left to fend for themselves. As one evacuee shakes her
head: “Same old levee.” Another exclaims: “We
are repeating history.” We, in fact, believe that Katrina
and its aftermath is a modern-day horror story.
– Ed Pincus & Lucia Small
