It's difficult to quantify the significance of Hurricane Katrina: the combination of a historic natural disaster and a cold, systemic indifference to its impoverished African American victims makes it perhaps the most significant event in 21st-century African American history. It's no surprise, then, that more than one major documentary series has been made to commemorate the 20 years since wind, water, and unconscionable racism devastated New Orleans, nor that the leading cinematic auteurs of two consecutive generations, Spike Lee and Ryan Coogler, have executive produced theirs.
But watching Katrina: Come Hell and High Water, one wishes Lee and Coogler had spoken on the phone to make sure they weren't duplicating themselves too much. The new three-part episode—Lee's arriving on Netflix during the week of the anniversary—has a slightly muted impact due to the preexistence of Hurricane Katrina: Race Against Time, Coogler's series that premiered on Disney+ and National Geographic a month ago. For much of its screen time, this is a less comprehensive portrayal of the same story, using many of the same clips and interviewees.
Stars: Leanne Williams, Soledad O'Brien, Russel Honoré
However, that story is essential and powerfully told. Katrina, a Category 5 hurricane on a scale that goes up to 5, struck New Orleans on August 29, 2005. The city's evacuation order came late, and many residents with limited economic resources had no way out. New Orleans is a watershed, with much of it below sea level; seawalls and drainage channels had been built to protect against storm surges, but they proved inadequate, and in the aftermath of the hurricane, entire neighborhoods were flooded. With many dead—1,392 in the final count—and thousands sheltering in their own city, help was incredibly slow to arrive: local authorities were unprepared, and the national administration of George W. Bush simply didn't seem to care.
"Come Hell and High Water" is more passionate and elegiac than the detailed, but still furious, "Race Against Time." Here we have a less concise chronology of events as Hurricane Katrina approached and a more limited view of why New Orleans was so vulnerable. But this film better conveys the unimaginable horror of the rapidly rising waters and is also forceful in its portrayal of the racism that permeated the reaction of the media and political elites in the aftermath: as people dying of thirst scavenged supplies from abandoned stores, the idea quickly became that the "looting" was out of control and that "order" needed to be restored. As demonstrated here, similarly affected white people would not have received the same treatment.
However, none of that was missing from the other series. You could watch Race Against Time instead of the first two episodes of Come Hell and High Water. But be sure to come back for the closing documentary directed by Spike Lee. A rich oral history of the city in the two decades since the hurricane, this film chronicles the myriad injustices that continued to ravage New Orleans after the floodwaters receded, as told by creative figures such as actor Wendell Pierce and musician Branford Marsalis, among Katrina survivors.
We hear how the reassertion of the city's unique culture was deliberately and methodically prevented, beginning with insurance companies and banks, which ruthlessly seized what they claimed was owed to them. A federally funded rebuilding campaign was weighted toward wealthier areas, allocating funds based on the buildings' previous value. Public services suffered from a notable lack of funding. Black teachers were laid off. Many local residents, especially the Black middle class, left for Atlanta or Houston.
These and many other issues—the rising crime that led to a boom in privatized prisons, the gentrification that turned black areas into white areas—are presented to the viewer at a pace. The general idea is very clear; it would be good to know more about each one before moving on to the next. The only editorial device the director employs, presenting key phrases from interviews as subtitles that appear as the person says them, comes across as somewhat frivolous.
However, Lee fully understands how the spirit, culture, and soul of a city can survive the worst adversities, and so he ends on a note of defiant joy. New Orleans, he tells us, is coming back to life and refuses to be a model for the destruction of any community that doesn't conform. "Come Hell and High Water" is a moving tribute to what was lost and stolen, but he assures us that New Orleans is a city that has lost its way.
Comments
Post a Comment