Bruce Lee and Other Badasses

[Mass Transit] Since the first of the year, I've been taking the University TRAX line almost daily to and from the CW offices. It's partly a mission to lighten up my size-8 carbon footprint; and oh yeah, I have "loaned" my 7-year old car to my 19-year-old daughter in Los Angeles.

Beyond the minute environmental difference I'm making, I get a lot more than I give in this deal. The eavesdropping opportunities on the train are fabulous. (I partially make my living off of overhearing others' conversations--don't say you weren't warned.) This morning, on the 9:29 ride from Rice-Eccles Stadium, two rough-hewn guys, just slightly liquored up, got on at the Library stop, sat right behind me and spent the next three minutes (until I got off the train at Gallivan Plaza) comparing the prowess of martial arts heroes. Here is their approximate conversation:

Guy 1: A lady friend gave me this diamond earring (points to his ear).
Guy 2: You better have it in the right ear. You could get beat up for wearing it in the wrong ear, my man.
Guy 1: Yeah, but they'd have to be tough, man. They'd have to be Bruce Lee to beat me up.
Guy 2: Bruce Lee. Oh man, he was the baddest martial arts dude. The baddest.
Guy 1: What about Chuck Norris?
Guy 2: Chuck Norris. He's bad. He's the second baddest.
Guy 1: I'll agree with you there, man. And Jet Li. He's the third baddest. Him and that guy in Transformers.

(Holly Mullen)

DV8, Well-Done

[News] Last night, longtime downtown SLC concert/dance venue DV8 burned down. The joint opened as Cartoons Comedy Club in the early '80s, later becoming DV8 dance club with the occasional band and, eventually, one of the hottest alt-rock venues of the '90s: Tool, PJ Harvey, Elastica, Primus, the Rev. Horton Heat, Garbage and countless others played DV8 regularly; Pearl Jam made their Salt Lake City debut there. Even during an awkward phase as Club Xscape in the '00s, the place still hosted some great shows--and, even better, didn't host a scheduled concert by Canadian douche-rockers Nickelback because the band said the place "wasn't big enough, eh."

DV8 has been closed and empty for years, but your local TV news had no clue: Last night, you could forgive West Valley-based ABC 4 for not knowing anything about the Downtown West Temple area (at least they knew the Capitol Theatre was around there somewhere), and Fox 13 was too busy with important American Idol news, but KUTV 2? They're two blocks away and the only possibly endangered nearby businesses they could name were the Salt Palace and the Marriott Hotel. These are your downtown neighbors, Caffe Molisse, Mynt Martini, Benihana, etc. Do KUTV employees ever go anywhere downtown between the studio and the parking garage? (Bill Frost)

Sundance: Finally!

[Film Fest] Just when it looked as though Sundance 2008 would provide the most uninspired crop of American Dramatic Competition Films in my memory … well, that's pretty much still true. But at least I can walk away from it all having seen one great piece of filmmaking.

The film is Sugar, the second feature from the Half Nelson team of Ryan Fleck and Anna Boden, and they continue to combine a powerful naturalism with a refusal to allow that “naturalism” to become “tedium.”

The story follows Miguel “Sugar” Santos (Algenis Pérez Soto), a 19-year-old professional pitching prospect, from a training academy in his native Dominican Republic through spring training and his first minor-league assignment in a small Iowa town. The expected culture shock ensues—only knowing enough English to order one breakfast from the diner menu; enjoying hotel-room porn; eating meat loaf with the nice farm family he stays with—but Sugar is more than a fish-out-of-water tale. In the course of exploring a very specific milieu, Fleck and Boden capture something universal about the appeal of America as a land of dreams, and the collision of those dreams with harder realities. Low-key yet engrossing performances from the entire cast contribute to a tremendous piece of human drama. Turns out my sports draft analogy from yesterday was more appropriate than I knew; there’s an obvious #1 pick after all. (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: Draft Odor

[Film Fest] Day 6. I have at this point seen 9 and 1/8 of the American Dramatic Competition films, with scheduled times to see four of the remaining six. I’ve used the analogy before that Sundance is very much like the draft for a pro sports league, with that excitement for the Next Big Thing, but realizing one of these movies has to win a Grand Prize calls to mind a sadder part of that analogy: There are the drafts where #1 gets LeBron James, and there are drafts where #1 gets Michael Olawokandi.

There are some that are at least deserving of some praise. There’s Phoebe in Wonderland, writer/director Daniel Barnz’s story of the titular 9-year-old girl (Elle Fanning, the also-preternaturally-talented sister of Dakota) and her struggles with undefined emotional and/or neurological issues. Bits and pieces of the film are positively terrific: the relationship between Phoebe and a flamboyantly theater-loving male classmate; Felicity Huffman’s agonized monologue about her parental fears; and the raw despair of a kid who doesn’t know what’s happening to her. But the fanciful stuff occasionally gets too fanciful, as it does when Patricia Clarkson – as Phoebe’s odd duck of a drama teacher – turns into a sort of Mary Poppins figure. It’s solid “B” work, and yet I find myself clinging to its flawed appeal.

Deeper flaws damage both the crowd favorite Sunshine Cleaning and the edgier The Mysteries of Pittsburgh. The former casts Amy Adams (Enchanted) and Emily Blunt (The Devil Wears Prada) as sisters who launch a crime-scene cleanup company, and in the process have to come to terms with their own family baggage. The two lead actresses are typically terrific, particularly Adams as an ex-high school queen-bee struggling to come to terms with her life as an under-employed single mom. But the writing and directing both prove uneven, and I think I’ve officially lost patience with films where I wait for the inevitable revelation of the Past Tragedy That Has Changed Our Protagonist(s) Forever.

Even The Mysteries of Pittsburgh falls into that trap, though it’s problematic for other reasons, too. Rawson Marshall Thurber’s adaptation of the Michael Chabon novel casts Jon Foster as the son of a Pennsylvania mobster whose post-college graduation summer involves hanging out with a gorgeous violinist (Sienna Miller) and her charismatic but bad-news boyfriend (Peter Sarsgaard). The performances are solid all around, but when it comes right down to it, this is yet another one of those stories where someone either literally or figuratively winds up by saying, “My life was never the same after that summer.” This guy, changed a little bit more than most, but still … (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: Get Yr Birds Straight

[Film Fest] In a previous post, Salt Blog "reported" (i.e. "passed along random gossip") that an unnamed columnist from a Salt Lake City daily newspaper threw a diva fit at the Sundance Film Festival last week. The accompanying pic led some to believe that the columnist in question was the Salt Lake Tribune's "Culture Vulture." Common mistake: It was actually "The Gay Cathartidae" of the Magna Monitor; he's always causing a scene. Sorry for any confusion--we'll be slightly more careful with our gossip regurgitation in the future. (Bill Frost)

Another Reason to Go to the Gallows (Show)

[Music] British punk rockers are so punk, Disney doesn't want them. Gallows play Avalon on Wednesday, Jan. 30.



(Jamie Gadette)

"Om" to the Utah Senate

[Prayers and Politics] Namaste, all!

The Utah Senate will open with its first-ever Hindu prayer on Feb. 13.

This, according to information from the man who will give the prayer, Rajan Zed (that's him in the photo). The self-described "prominent Hindu chaplain and Indo-American leader" will deliver the prayer first in Sanskrit, then offer its translation in English.

While there are plenty of opening prayers at the Legislature of the familiar "Our Father In Heaven" variety, Rajan Zed says he'll recite from "Rig-Veda," which dates to around 1,500 B.C. and remains the oldest world scripture still in common use. He will start and end the prayer with "OM"--the "mystical syllable containing the universe, which, in Hinduism is used to introduce and conclude religious work."

Translated into English, Rajan Zed will pray: "Lead us from the unreal to the real, from darkness to light, and from death to immortality." And reciting from chapter three of Bhagavad-Gita, he will "urge the senators to act selflessly."

Ah, that's the challenge. Does "acting selflessly" include sending back those Jazz tickets and canceling those executive tee times with the lobbyists? (Holly Mullen)

Sundance: Rock Band vs. Rock Band

[Fest Music] Ahh Sundance, how you fail to surprise us. Last year and the year prior, I covered music for City Weekly's daily festival updates. It was a mixed bag of freezing temperatures, shitty stuck-up celebs, friendly and not-so friendly club owners, and some truly amazing music performances.

Both years, I returned to the valley feeling a little empty. Bands who put their heart and soul into their Sundance performances were often met with indifference--especially at random parties where the people in attendance cared more about free Socko and vodka or how hot they looked than the headlining act providing background sounds for their inept behavior.

I remember watching Broken Social Scene from behind a sectioned off "VIP" area placed directly in front of the stage. Of course, all of the people inside the "VIP" area had their backs turned to the Canadian collective. What a waste. I bring this up because I'm planning to head up to PC tonight to see the Aggrolites at a BMI party (by the way, BMI's representatives are some of the nicest, most accomodating people I've met during past festivals) and am feeling kind of ambivalent about it all.

Last week, Salt Lake City's Future of the Ghost performed at a Sundance party in one of Park City's bars, temporarily branded by several corporate imprints. The band had to basically force their way onstage, then wait until the folks playing Rock Band (the videogame which allows users to pretend they're musicians) finished up and made room for the three-piece indie group. What? Why even hire a band to perform? Why not hire a DJ or better yet, leave the audience members to talk amongst themselves (since they obviously love the sound of their voices). Needless to say, it was the Future of the Ghost's worst show to date.

Here's some footage of them performing for people who give a shit:



Check out Future of the Ghost at Velour for the SLAMMys showcase, also featuring Seve vs. Evan and Kid Theodore.

I'll let you know how the Aggrolites show turns out. Fingers crossed (Jamie Gadette)

Majerus and that Pie Hole Problem

[Loose Lips] Gotta say, it's tough knowing what side to come down on in the ongoing saga that is life for Rick Majerus, former (and most winning) Runnin' Utes coach. Majerus, current coach of the St. Louis University Billikens men's basketball team, has opened his big pie hole and created havoc...again. And again. (That's two St. Louis Catholic honchos, and Majerus on the far right in this St. Louis Post-Dispatch photo.)

Majerus is a Wisconsin native, son of a major labor organizer, and with his salty mouth and huge girth, could pass for your basic stereotype of a Hormel meat packer. His coaching style, at least at Utah, included making points at practice by whipping out his penis to scold Michael Doleac and routinely calling his college players by that classy slang word for female genitalia.

He left the University of Utah in 2004, following a very public account in the daily newspapers of the way he singled out one of his players, hearing-impaired center Lance Allred, as a "cripple" and a "disgrace to cripples." The official U. account was that he left for medical reasons. But the truth is, big donors and lifelong fans were getting rather fed up with his inhumanity.

It took the U. far too long to address the problem of Rick Majerus, mostly because he won games. Bunches of 'em. And he took the Utes to a 1998 Final Four appearance. Glory Days. But the man was/is vulgar, loud and frequently bigoted. And a liberal iconoclast, to boot.

So now, he's on the wrong side of official Catholic-dom for speaking openly, in public, on his own time as an American citizen at a political rally, in support of abortion rights. I must say, a guy who counts "c--t" as one of his favorite insults while supporting Roe v. Wade is a study in contrasts. My feminist sensibilities are on a roller coaster ride.

What do you think? Should Majerus, who coaches at a private Catholic university, have the right to not only hold an anti-church position on abortion but to speak out about it? Does anyone in a similar position have that right? Could a coach at Salt Lake's Judge Memorial Catholic High School march in a pro-choice rally? What about BYU football coach Bronco Mendenhall? Not that it would ever happen, but I'm just sayin'.

Any thoughts? (Holly Mullen)

Sundance: More on Terror

[Film Fest] As previously noted, last year's Sundance Film Festival was practically all Iraq, all the time. Now that we've endured a cinematic year of "Iraq fatigue," the films are apparently trying to be a bit more circumspect about sneaking in their Middle East-conflict-themed content.

Towelhead, from Six Feet Under creator Alan Ball, avoids the contemporary conflict entirely and instead heads back to Gulf War I. It’s the story of 13-year-old Jasira (Summer Bishil), a biracial girl who has just moved from her mother’s home in New York to live with her Lebanese father (Peter Macdissi) in Houston. The war itself serves only as a backdrop, while the story itself addresses coming-of-age tropes with both dark humor and uncommon candor. Ball bends his characters in unique direction – particularly Jasira’s Christian, patriotic, brutally traditional father – while giving a dark-humored intrigue to the story of a girl looking for anywhere she can feel like she belongs and is cared for. Be prepared for plenty of provocative, taboo-busting subject matter along with the exceptional performances; I did mention this is the guy who created Six Feet Under, right?

Tom McCarthy’s The Visitor initially doesn’t appear like it could be more removed from political realities. Walter Vale (Richard Jenkins), a widowed Yale economics professor, is flailing about at trying to learn the piano in his oversized Connecticut home. When he heads to New York for a conference, he finds that the seldom-used apartment he keeps there occupied by an illegal immigrant couple victimized by a con man. Not surprisingly, Walter befriends the Syrian-born drummer Tarek (Haaz Sleiman) and his Senegalese girlfriend, and winds up caught up in their lives when Tarek gets caught up in a deportation struggle. The detours into social commentary begin to feel forced, but McCarthy – whose terrific drama The Station Agent played in competition a few years ago – has a keen enough sense of character that the film remains compelling.

Where in the World is Osama bin Laden? – the feature documentary follow-up from Super Size Me creator Morgan Spurlock – doesn’t exactly hide the fact that it’s going to touch on the War on Terror, although it uses comedy to disguise what becomes a policy statement. Using the impending birth of his first child as a frame, Spurlock heads to the Middle East to find the guy making the world such a dangerous place for his future progeny. Like Super Size Me, it’s often a terrifically entertaining piece of filmmaking, particularly a hilarious opening credits sequence pitting Spurlock against Osama in video-game form, a la Mortal Kombat. But ultimately Spurlock’s thesis comes down to “It’s not all about Osama, it’s about the economic and political conditions that make his ideas resonate.” And no offense, Morgan, but you aren’t exactly breaking new ground. Maybe he’ll succeed at bringing this already-familiar poli-sci notion to the masses – except that we already know the masses aren’t interested. (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: Why I Miss Public Screenings

[Film Fest] Press screenings at Sundance are a wonderful convenience. For those of us who are there primarily to see the movies, it's a hell of a lot easier than ricocheting from venue to venue, fighting throught star-ogling, don't-you-know-who-I-am throngs.

But a few of my favorite moments at Sundance over the years weren’t about what was on the screen. In 1998, when an Egyptian Theatre screening of Buffalo ’66 experienced technical difficulties, writer/director/star/provocateur Vincent Gallo regaled the audience with his opinion that entertainment lawyers were “a bunch of creepy crawlers.” At the Salt Lake City screening of Donnie Darko in 2001, a reel was attached to the print upside-down and backwards, inspiring director Richard Kelly to improvise, “My movie’s weird, but it’s not that weird.”

I was reminded of how much I missed these filmmaker moments at the Tower Theatre screening of the World Cinema comedy Absurdistan, about a tiny, isolated town where the women go on a sex strike to force their men to fix a dilapidated water main. Director/co-writer Veit Helmer introduced the feature with an inspired bit: Taking a page from Borat, he described the film’s fictional setting as a real place from which the filmmakers journeyed first by donkey, and then by Greek fishing boat, “where the film was edited … Greek sailors are really the toughest audience.” He then introduced “Absurdistan’s leading historian,” who took the stage for an incomprehensible but brilliantly acted monologue in Russian. Like the warm-up act for his own movie, Helmer wonderfully primed the audience for the film’s off-kilter comic sensibility—and provided a reminder that behind all these movies, there are some fascinating people. (Scott Renshaw)

Sundance: May I Suggest

[Fest Music] I haven't yet set foot in Park City for reasons I won't bore you with here, but I can tell you that 2008's Sundance Film Festival has hosted some remarkable musicians thus far.

If you're a music lover who is not able to fight the elements and make it up the canyon this year, I urge you to dry those bitter tears.

You don't really want to inadvertently collide with Slash, Bono, or 50 Cent on Park City’s Main Street on an 8 degree day, do you?

Plus, I'll let you in on a little secret.

Although playing a star-studded festival like Sundance is a wonderful opportunity for everyone invited, many musicians who I have interviewed confess that playing the festival circuit mainly for the benefit of industry types is exhausting and monumentally stressful.

Which means, despite Sundance’s intimate venues, you’ll probably get a better performance out of band X or singer/songwriter Y if you see them on an occasion when they don’t feel like their head is a pressure cooker about to explode.

In any case, here’s a list of musicians who have appeared at Sundance this year to date who I would highly recommend all of you music lovers out there in internet land check out ASAP.

Sub Pop’s Helio Sequence (who lit up the Star Bar on Friday night) will make you feel like you’re enveloped in a blissful cloud of catchy guitar-accented electronic pop.

Sub Pop label mates Kelley Stoltz and Daniel Martin Moore (who also graced the Star Bar on Friday) are certainly worth a listen as well.

I don’t claim to have any special talent for predicting the future of music, but I have a hunch that Japanese-born jazz vocalist Emi Meyer (who appeared at the Turning Leaf Lounge on Monday as part of the BMI showcase) could possibly eclipse Norah Jones in popularity.

Califone (who spilt their time between Chicago and LA) are an innovative bluesy experimental band who improvised a soundtrack to a collection of Brent Green’s films called God Builds Like Frank Lloyd Wright: Brent Green and Califone on 3 separate occasions this week. Roots and Crowns, the band’s 2006 release, is one of my absolute favorite releases of this DECADE thus far, so, uh, as you can imagine, I would HIGHLY suggest you procure a copy.

The ASCAP showcase at the Star Bar has hosted performances by notable singer/songwriters Jesca Hoop (she grew up Mormon and she nannied for Tom Waits, you know), Sea Wolf, Eef Barzelay of Clem Snide, Charlotte Sometimes, and Jessie Baylin.

All of the above-mentioned folks have amazing pipes. Musically, nothing hooks me like the human voice.

Dusty Rhodes and the River Band also played the Star Bar Tuesday. I adore them because their joyful music always makes me feel like I’m at Mardi Gras.

I’ll make it up the canyon at some point before the festival ends. If you’re eager for more Sundance music coverage, check this blog tomorrow night. (Jenny Poplar)

Sundance: Bitter Tears Freely Falling

[Fest Music] The fictional pregnant teen Juno and I have something in common. When asked to name our favorite musicians of all time, we both enthusiastically list Patti Smith.

I’ll never forget the first time I saw Patti Smith perform on David Letterman when I was 14. I was struck by her raw, emotional voice and the fierce power of her music. She exuded integrity, independence, intelligence, and thoughtful rebellion.

Patti Smith is the type of artist who makes music that inspires you to believe you do not have to accept the world as it is. The primary message of much of her work is that if you expend enough thought and energy, you can participate in artistic, social, and political movements that make the world a much more interesting and humane place.

Horses is one of the greatest debut albums in rock ‘n roll history, but if you really want to know why I have boundless respect for Patti Smith, please read this.

Smith was invited to perform at the Sundance Film Festival because she is the subject of a Steven Sebring-directed documentary called Patti Smith: Dream of Life.

So, you can imagine the bitter tears I cried when Patti Smith performed on Sunday night in Park City while I was stranded in Salt Lake.

Oh, well. C’est la vie. I’m sure sometime in the future I’ll see Patti on a warm sunny day. In a city where I can take a taxi cab or train instead of braving Parley’s Canyon in a small compact car that does not handle well in the snow. Only to be turned away at the door of the Star Bar because my badge does not say Rolling Stone.

You can see pictures of Patti’s performance and a list of upcoming Star Bar events for peps with proper Sundance credentials here. (Jenny Poplar)

Sundance: Getting the Clap

[Film Fest] A comment to yesterday's posting about the Sundance Dramatic Competition Film North Starr raised a point worth addressing: How can my disdain for the first 15 minutes of the film be given any credence when it received such an OVERWHELMING STANDING OVATION?

If you have never attended a Park City public screening at Sundance, here is something you need to know: Pretty much everything gets an enthusiastic round of applause at Sundance. It is important to note that the audience for a typical Park City public screening usually includes filmmakers and actors, and thus a round of applause is only considered polite. Then there are the filmmakers' and actors' family and friends, their agents, their attorneys, their agents' attorneys, their producers' representatives, and a variety of other industry types in whose best interest it is to pretend that your movie is awesome. Occasionally a genuine groundswell of love is obvious at one of these screenings, but even that means nothing. Please keep in mind that Happy, Texas received one of the most rapturous receptions in the history of the festival a decade ago, and promptly disappeared off the face of the earth.

In summary: If one is basing one's defense of a film on the response of a Park City Sundance audience, one has an agenda. Love what you love, and get over the fact that someone else wasn't willing to endure another 100 minutes of agony for the possibility of hearing people cheer. (Scott Renshaw)

Heath Ledger Dead

[Celebrity News] If you have Internet connection and/or work in an office, you've probably already heard the news. What I want to know is how this development impacts us regular joes. Yes, it's sad. But why do we, myself included, get so teary-eyed over folks we don't actually know (beyond their roles in arguably significant films)? It's not exactly the day the music died.

Let's hear it folks. What, if anything, did Heath mean to you? (Jamie Gadette)

Give 'Em Their Torches and Pitchforks

[Online Media] Wow. Don't you just love the brain trust that responds to Salt Lake Tribune stories via its online comment board? As of this writing, there are three full pages of reaction to this troubling Jan. 21 story, from the brave bigots who glibly eviscerate an entire ethnic group while cozily hiding behind their pseudonyms.

If, as the saying goes, newspapers are the rough draft of history, what are these comment boards, exactly? A form of electronic lynching? Clearly they offer license to hate an entire group of people, based on few facts and next to no context.

Adding insult to this racist injury are some editors at the Trib, who seem all too quick to post, then just as quickly edit out reporters' descriptions of skin color, ethnic group and the like in crime stories. What the hell is going on? In the days of stodgy old print journalism, editors were careful to keep racial descriptions from creeping into stories unless it was confirmed and helpful in giving the public important identifying information.

But this is the wild west of online journalism. It's kill or be killed in the new media world. If that means rushing to post something prejudicial or purely inflammatory, then scrambling to remove it, then posting it again through shifting production cycles, well c'est la vie.

Meanwhile, over at the Deseret Morning News, a few comments actually showed some concern for the recovering victims. (Holly Mullen)

Jack Johnson? Really?

[Music] The lineup for this year's Coachella Music Festival has been announced and Mr. La Di Dah is scheduled to kick off the three-day outdoor extravaganza with a round of boring campfire sing-a-longs. Seems an odd choice, considering The Breeders, Stephen Malkmus and The Verve are also appearing. Maybe I'm just stuck in the '90s.



Other highlights include Portishead (!), Metric, Stars, Cold War Kids, My Morning Jacket, Love & Rockets, Justice, Yo Majesty, M.I.A., Animal Collective, Diplo, Battles, Turbonegro, The National, The Swell Season (Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglová), and many more. I went a few years ago when Radiohead headlined and am amazed how many of the acts I saw remain relevant to me today. I remember catching The Black Keys before they exploded. And Le Tigre with about 50 other people while The Cure played to the rest of the attendees.

Road Trip! (Jamie Gadette)

999 Mitts Too Many

[Election 2008] In other Mitt Romney news, this promo is currently running on CBS' Late Show With David Letterman:

"Hey, is your name 'Mitt'? Then the Late Show wants you to be a part of our 'Night of a Thousand Mitts.' Just send a 3X5 card to: 'Hey, I'm Mitt c/o The Late Show, 1697 Broadway, New York, New York 10019. Good luck, and get Mitting!"

Remember, this is the late-night show that has writers. And "3X5 card"? What about the Interweb? Don't Mitts have access to that? (Bill Frost)

Worst Episode of Punk'd Ever

[Election 2008] Son Matt Romney pranks pa Mitt with a phone call from California governor Ah-nold Schwarzenegger. Hilarity does not quite ensue ...



(Bill Frost)

Sundance: More Black and White

[Film Fest] Sundance documentaries this year want us to know that we still live in a very race-divided society. Thank you, Sundance documentaries. In other news, the sky is blue.

I kid Sundance documentaries, because I love. But I would love a lot more of them this year if they weren’t so dependent on their premises, and not on what the filmmakers are able to do with those premises. The Order of Myths begins with a fascinating footnote: the way the city of Mobile, Alabama holds two distinct Mardi Gras celebrations, one historically all-white and the other historically all-black. At times, director Margaret Brown captures that distinctively Southern capacity to justify nearly anything because of its connection to “history” and “tradition;” it’s jaw-dropping watching members of all-white “secret societies” putting on masks and hoods as though their revelry could have no other possible connotation. But ultimately there aren’t truly compelling characters to carry the film beyond everything it told you in its first 15 minutes.

Trouble the Water – in which Tia Lessin and Carl Deal follow Hurricane Katrina survivors Kimberly Rivers and Scott Roberts for 18 months before, during and after the ordeal – proves to have at least a little more intriguing subtext. The “before” and “during” part is the real hook, as New Orleans Ninth Ward resident Rivers used her personal camcorder to chronicle her neighbors’ preparations, and their two days trapped in an attic before taking a boat to safety. The footage is undeniably gripping, and narrowing the impact of the disaster – both natural and bureaucratic – to these individuals provides a distinct perspective. But Trouble the Water actually proves more interesting as a portrait of community, including the band of survivors that becomes a makeshift family for Rivers and Roberts. The country may have let New Orleans down, but it brings a little lump to the throat watching the way those who lived there refused to let each other down. (Scott Renshaw)