An immersive, meditative melody plays over a mosaic of mossy greens, muddy browns and brilliant blues of the Batture — a community on the edge of the Mississippi River — as a steady, wise voice breaks the sound: “Look how beautiful it is, yeah. Look. Lovely day.”
The man, who isn’t named until the credits, admires the world outside his home with his pet bird, Baby, resting on his hand.
Alexandra Kern, the director of “Some Kind of Refuge,” which premiered as part of the Sundance Film Festival short film program on Saturday, said the opening sequence is intended to show the slower Southern pace of life. But it’s also reflective of the first time she met Jules Cote, when he opened his home to her.
Cote is one of the oldest residents in the Batture, a 200-year-old, seasonally flooded settlement outside the levees in New Orleans. Only nine homes remain on a nearly 6-mile stretch that once held hundreds. The Batture is considered an outsider settlement, “where survival depends on resourcefulness and a deep respect for nature.”
Kern is from New Orleans, but she hadn’t heard about the Batture until she met producer Colin Cadarette at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival. Cadarette, meanwhile, became curious about the community after reading “They Called Us River Rats: The Last Batture Settlement of New Orleans” by Macon Fry, who is also featured in the documentary.
Cadarette reached out to Kern after watching another short she made and introduced her to the book — and to the Batture. Soon, the pair was committed to creating their own cinematic archive of the community.
“Some Kind of Refuge” isn’t an adaptation of Fry’s book. Rather, it’s an exploration into the unique lives of Cote and Fry and what it means for the men to live “outside the constraints of modern society.” Kern said she wanted to explore the modern fantasy of escaping society while also documenting the history of the Batture, which she said is under threat from climate change, gentrification and greed.
The director knocked on doors before filming started, meeting with all of the Batture’s residents. What became clear to Kern was the community’s profound wisdom and way of life that is disappearing from the world. She felt an instinctual pull to the project, with the story unfolding to her as she spent more time in the Batture, which the crew affectionately called “Swamp Narnia.”
“Our film became a way to preserve and to honor and to speak on those values in a way that could be a lasting archive,” Kern said. “We really wanted to make something that could really withstand the rest of time and be a visual and audio archive of this community and this way of life that will probably not exist one day.”
Fry and Cote emerged as the documentary’s central subjects because of their unique philosophies regarding fear, peace and living on the edge. Their personal stories — Fry is an author who has chronicled the Batture’s history and the struggle against development, while Cote is an artist who recently lost his wife and is developing a closer relationship with God — embody the film’s central themes of loss, freedom, hope and resilience.
“Some Kind of Refuge” is a meditation on fear as the enemy of living, as told through the residents’ experiences, while also reflecting on how nature shapes life in the Batture and what it means to live with yourself.
With a short, 16-minute runtime, there was a lot left on the cutting room floor. Cadarette said the team tried to treat “Some Kind of Refuge” like an American poem by taking an intentional, intimate approach with each shot and sound bite.
Kern said she wanted audiences to see themselves in the characters and question, “How do I want to live my life?” and wonder what it means to be a good neighbor and to experience reciprocity with the land. To her, the film is for younger generations searching for a deeper connection to nature and themselves.
“I think that was a big thing that we wanted audiences to walk away with is how can people sort of see themselves, whether it’s an environment like this, or on their own; How can they find an inner refuge, no matter really, what’s happening around them,” Kern said.
For her, making the film revealed that the simplest lessons matter the most.
“The Batture folks teach us an authentic way to be, one that rests not on material possessions but on genuine fulfillment that comes from self-actualization, surrender and the positive impact you have on your community,” she said.
Short Film Program 3 in-person screenings
- 9:15 p.m., Jan. 28, Broadway Centre Cinemas, Salt Lake City
- 6:15 p.m., Feb. 1, Holiday Village Cinemas
Online
- 8 a.m., Jan. 29-11:55 p.m., Feb. 1