Louise Woehrle on Making ‘A Binding Truth’

Minnesota has a long history of storytellers who aren’t afraid to ask difficult questions—and filmmaker Louise Woehrle is firmly part of that lineage. We recently caught up with the Deephaven-based director and producer to talk about her latest documentary, “A Binding Truth,” a deeply personal film that traces the lives of two men—one Black, one white—who discover later in life that their families are connected through slavery. The 57-minute documentary premieres locally on TPT on Feb. 16, with additional airings throughout Black History Month, and has already begun reaching audiences nationwide through PBS.

Born and raised in Minnesota, Woehrle brings more than 25 years of documentary experience to the project—and a clear-eyed awareness of what it means to step into this story as a white woman from the Midwest. “A Binding Truth” marks her third award-winning film to air on PBS, and its impact has extended well beyond broadcast. The film has screened in congregations of faith, social justice groups, schools, universities, and national conferences across the country, each showing followed by facilitated discussions and Q&As designed to open space for honest conversation about race, history, and healing.

Courtesy of Whirlygig Productions

What led you to where you are today?

I grew up in Minnesota. I was born in Minneapolis near Lake Calhoun, then moved to Edina in third grade and finished school there. Music was my passion, so I went to the University of Minnesota for music therapy, but after almost two years I realized I was miserable and decided to become a flight attendant instead. Around that time, I took a Dudley Riggs improv workshop, got into the advanced program, and ultimately the touring company, which was really formative for me in terms of storytelling.

Being a flight attendant let me see the world and still have time for creative work. Fast forward: I got married, was married for about 10 and a half years, and got divorced with two kids. Late in my marriage, a friend and I produced an original all-women production, “Women: Scenes From Life.” It sold out, earned Producer of the Year, and gave me the confidence to start over professionally after my divorce.

I pivoted into video and film after putting together a birthday video for my dad and uncle—when a small production company saw it, they offered me a job. I learned the business there, then created a teen series called “Be Real,” which helped open more doors. I started my own company, Whirlygig Productions, with a mission statement—written around 2001—that’s still true today: telling stories that help us see ourselves and others in new ways, promote healing, and connect us as human beings.

Over the years, I have worked with several nonprofits and with Haberman, a Minneapolis marketing and PR firm. Subsequently, I got into voiceover work after narrating a scratch track for “Poles Apart”—Director Greg Stiever kept me as the narrator. Jessica Lang wasn’t available, ha ha. It aired nationally and won awards. My first film opportunity was a short film, “Grandfather’s Birthday,” where I executive-produced and cast the film; it went on to win a regional Emmy. That was the turning point that led me to start directing and producing documentaries in 2002, and I’ve been doing so ever since.

Let’s talk a little bit about ‘A Binding Truth’ and what first drew you to the story and when you realized it needed to become a film.

I was in New York screening my previous film, which aired on PBS, and my two cousins from North Carolina were there. The next day at brunch they asked, “What are you gonna do next?” and I said, “I don’t know—I’m still trying to get this film out there.” It’s just me, and I hire my people, and I use a lot of the same people for each film, so I needed a break. I always joke it’s like being pregnant for nine months, having the baby, and then three days later someone asks when you’re having the next one.

One of my cousins, who is married to De, said, “What about the story of De and Jimmie?” De is the primary subject of the film, along with Jimmie Lee Kirkpatrick, and they’re all from Charlotte. After that conversation, I came home and talked to my executive producer [Jay Strommen], who helped finance my previous film, “Stalag Luft III—One Man’s Story.” He asked what I wanted to do next, and when I told him about “A Binding Truth,” he said it was a no-brainer—“Don’t we want to change the world?” He suggested we fly to Charlotte and meet Jimmie and De.

Courtesy of Whirlygig Productions

Once Jay came in with startup capital, so I could do a sizzle reel and get materials together, Jock Tonissen in Charlotte put together a fundraiser luncheon. A man named Chuck Hood stepped forward to help. He hired a fundraiser, Lauren Batten, and together they exceeded our fundraising goals because people cared deeply and wanted to be part of something that could make a difference. I kept my fiscal sponsor, FilmNorth, here in St. Paul.

From the very beginning, I believe the project had guidance by a higher power—so much grace happened in preproduction, fundraising, and production. A big turning point for me was my doubt: I’m a white woman from Minnesota—am I really the right person for this? I went looking for an African American editor and found Lewis Erskine. I emailed him, and he called me back. He told me he couldn’t do it, but what I needed was an editor I trusted who was aligned with my vision—because the story hadn’t been told yet, and I needed to tell it. He told me to stay true to my vision. After that call, I later learned he had passed away. He was deep into cancer when he spoke with me, and the fact that he gave me that time was such a gift and so affirming—it took away all my fear.

From there, it felt like one affirmation after another. It’s been one of the most rewarding projects I’ve ever been on, and the first time I haven’t had to raise the money myself. My intention was to tell the true story of these two men and their relationship, and deep down, to set the table for meaningful conversation about race—because they’re so different, and people relate to them for different reasons.

After the festival run, the goal became national distribution, including PBS, and finding a great educational distributor, which I did. I worked with Peter Broderick, who helped me understand how to approach PBS and get the film into the community. Faith communities across denominations and social justice organizations have been embracing it. It’s been powerful to see people using it to break down walls and start conversations.

It also means a lot that the film airs in my hometown, and that we made it here with Minnesota postproduction talent—we can compete with anybody in L.A. or New York. I’m grateful for the community that helped make it. Everyone involved feels like they’re part of something with meaning—something bigger than just an accomplishment.

Going back to the story itself a bit, how did you establish trust between you and the two men?

It helped that they had already met Jay and seen my previous film, so there was a foundation of trust to begin with. But beyond that, it took time. They’d never done anything like this before, and while they sensed early on that I was trustworthy and had their best interests at heart, I still had to earn that.

In the interviews, I started with easier questions and let things unfold naturally. As they grew more comfortable, they let their guard down. I think anyone who’s done long-form interviewing knows that you have to really listen—not just stick to a list of questions. I often riffed off what they had just said rather than following a script, and it became more of a conversation than a formal Q&A.

We weren’t rushed, there was no clock, no pressure to get in and out. The time was entirely theirs. I think they could feel that—that I was listening, respecting them, and asking thoughtful questions. Over time, that’s what built the trust.

What’s one of the most memorable moments you had during filming?

Early in the filming process in Charlotte, we visited a slave cemetery that Jimmie visits. He wanted us to see it. We started filming as he was walking through the cemetery, talking about his ancestors. It was a spiritual experience for him and very impactful for us. I knew in that moment that we had something special beyond what I could imagine.

Courtesy of Whirlygig Productions

What are you hoping that viewers take away from watching this?

I hope that somewhere in the film, viewers come to a new understanding of things they may not have thought about before, or may even have resisted. But through the story, they’re able to stay with it rather than fight it.

This isn’t a film that’s trying to push buttons. It’s really about a relationship between two men who learn from each other and heal. The film doesn’t bombard people—it simply is. It gives viewers space to feel and think for themselves, and ideally opens the door to meaningful conversations, whether with people of a different race or with someone who holds a different perspective.

How do you hope the film continues to live and be used beyond its initial release?

I hope the film continues to live in community spaces—especially faith communities, social justice organizations, and groups focused on racial reconciliation. Beyond PBS and educational distribution, the outreach has been really meaningful, and I love that people are using the film as a tool for dialogue. There’s also a discussion guide created by the Queens University of Charlotte that’s been incredibly helpful in facilitating those conversations.

The PBS broadcast is a 57-minute version, and there’s also a 90-minute festival cut. It’s been especially meaningful to see the awards and recognition the film has received nationally and internationally, and locally, winning the Audience Award for Best Documentary at the Twin Cities Film Fest and Best Documentary at the Twin Cities Black Film Festival.

The film has also been shown in corporate and organizational settings, and while some of that outreach shifted as conversations around DEI changed, I’m grateful that the film continues to find its way into spaces where people genuinely want to engage. Ultimately, my hope is that it keeps opening doors for honest, thoughtful conversations—guided by the spirit of one of Jimmie’s quotes: “Put aside your guilt, and I’ll put aside my anger, and maybe we can learn from each other.”

To learn more about “A Binding Truth” and filmmaker Louise Woehrle, visit whirlygigproductions.com.