DOC NYC ’15: Not So Namaste (short)

Evidently the Romanian gymnastics program was still plenty brutal, even after Bela Karolyi’s defection. Of course, that should not surprise anyone, considering who was ultimately in charge. Ella Cojocaru survived the Romanian junior national team’s training regime during the waning days of Ceausescu, but only later found inner peace as an adult in the West, with a little help from the East. Cojocaru revisits the toxic gymnastics of her past and explains the healing power of yoga in Rita Baghdadi & Jeremiah Hammerling’s short but on-point Not So Namaste, which screens during this year’s DOC NYC.

Namaste could easily be much longer, leading one to wonder if it is a proof of concept production. Regardless, Cojocaru’s recollections of growing up in the years leading up to the 1989 Revolution are dramatic and valuable. At first, she had a passion for the sport, but it was literally beaten out of her. However, her mother would not let her quit, because it Olympic glory was one of the few means to a better life under the Socialist regime.

In a way, Namaste is like a short video postscript to Little Girls in Pretty Boxes. It also provides an empowering ending for a change. Cojocaru is a charismatic and forthcoming subject, while co-director Hammerling’s black-and-white cinematography gives it all a classy look. Festival programmers in particular ought to give it a try, because it could easily be coupled with sports films or Cold War Era documentaries. Recommended for both audiences, it screens tomorrow (11/19) as part of the Shorts: From There to Here block at DOC NYC 2015.

DOC NYC ’15: Dreaming Against the World (short)

What were the crimes artist and poet Mu Xin was arrested for during his lifetime? Hardcore offenses, like talking informally about Madame Mao at a social gathering and making sketches in what became known as Taiwan in the years before the revolution (that’s right, he did not have the gift of clairvoyance). Of course, the Red Guards hardly needed a pretext to arrest and torture anyone during the Cultural Revolution. His secret, nonpolitical art was more than sufficient. Filmmakers Francesco Bello & Timothy Sternberg coaxed the late artist into reflecting on his life and work in the elegantly elegiac short documentary Dreaming Against the World (trailer here), a Motion Picture Institute (MPI) supported film that screens during this year’s DOC NYC.

Mu Xin was born into a well to do family in Wuzhen, so he was doomed to face hardships during Mao’s various ideological campaigns. However, his early years were also greatly enriched by the extensive library a local intellectual left in his family’s care. Frankly, Mu Xin was better read in classic Western literature than any of us, which would hardly help his case during the Cultural Revolution, but it gave him perspective.

Although Mu Xin was a reluctant interview subject, he radiates dignity and erudite charm. Obviously, the episodes he warily speaks of were difficult to revisit, but he also seems to experience some cathartic release from the process. Yet, he is extraordinarily Zen-like referring to the scores of paintings, poems, plays, and other writings confiscated and destroyed during the collective insanity as mere “practice.”

For those who doubt the Communist experience immeasurably impoverished the world, Mu Xin’s lost work is conclusive proof. He is now best known for “Tower Within a Tower” series of landscape paintings and his secretly recorded Prison Notes, sixty six pages of such minute lettering, they are recognized as a work of art in their own right, as well as a courageous act of defiance. Still, one has to wonder what treasures would also be celebrated had they survived.

As Bello & Sternberg rightly point out, Mu Xin could have been summarily executed had his signature works been discovered while he was creating them. It is an incredible story, told with tremendous sensitivity. The filmmakers add just enough context to ensure any viewer can appreciate Mu Xin’s life and work, without getting sidetracked by the nightmarish historical dynamics at play. Several of the credited translators are also names we recognize and therefore give us even further confidence in the film’s accuracy and integrity. It is a film worthy of its accomplished and insightful subject. Very highly recommended, the thirty-five minute Dreaming Against the World screens before Claude Lanzmann: Spectres of the Shoah this Thursday (11/19) at the SVA Theatre, as part of DOC NYC 2015.

DOC NYC ’15: Love Between the Covers

By now, we all understand how romance readers often feel a strong emotional connection to their favorite authors. Remember when Annie Wilkes hobbled Paul Sheldon in Misery? That was a strong emotional connection. Yet, somehow that iconic scene is never referenced in Laurie Kahn’s Love Between the Covers (trailer here), an introduction to romance fandom that screens during this year’s DOC NYC.

Those who work in publishing might focus on the most extraneous details in Covers, like why are there so many James Rollins paperbacks on the shelves in the opening credits? Perspective is everything. Fans and authors alike routinely complain the genre gets no respect, but if you have ever tried to get any sort of book besides romances into mass merchandisers, you know a high percentage of their book space is devoted to the genre, right off the top.

Regardless, readers have a right to gripe about snotty hipster attitudes (and they do). If you work all day and then go home to take care of some entitled brats, you should feel free to take what pleasures you can from series romances, 50 Shades of Grey, or 120 Days of Sodom. The problem with Covers is it is unabashedly fannish and pretty shallow.

Granted, the authors Kahn profiles are quite charming (which also holds true of every romance novelist I’ve ever met at trade shows). Look, they understood the principles of social media before Mark Zuckerberg. Mary Bly (an English professor and daughter of poet Robert Bly, who writes romance under the name Eloisa James) is a particularly charismatic and eloquent presence. Unfortunately, the film never really gets past the H.E.A. (“happily ever after”) formula and repetitive anecdotes of friendships forged through fandom.

Even if you knew precious little about trade publishing, you will hardly be shocked to learn romance books are the commercial drivers of the industry, largely written and consumed by women. That is about all Covers has for outsiders, but fans will appreciate the screen time granted to popular bestsellers, like Nora Roberts and Jayne Ann Krentz. Frankly, that is what the film is all about. Only recommended for the fans it was intended for, Love Between the Covers screens this Thursday (11/19) at the IFC Center, as part of DOC NYC 2015.

DOC NYC ’15: The Babushkas of Chernobyl

They saw starvation during the Holodomor, Stalin’s forced starvation of Ukraine and radiation sickness during the Chernobyl meltdown. The latter paled compared to the horrors of Stalin. Having persevered through Stalin’s terror, they were not about to let a little thing like radiation scare them off. Holly Morris & Anne Bogart visit several of the two hundred-some matronly survivors who returned to their once-abandoned homes in The Babushkas of Chernobyl (trailer here), which screens during this year’s DOC NYC.

The once bustling villages and mid-sized towns supporting the Soviet nuclear industry are now overgrown with weeds. Instead of a scorched wasteland, nature has largely taken back the so-called “Exclusion Zone.” According to PBS’s Nature, the wolf population has thrived in recent years. Considering their advanced age and vodka consumption, the “Babushkas” also seem to be doing relatively well. Valentyna Ivanivna attributes her longevity to the healing power of herbs, while Hanna Zavorotnya puts her faith in moonshine. They are probably both right.

Although the government still tightly controls access to the zone, they have semi-officially condoned the women’s recolonization, believing they will succumb to old age before the effects of radiation manifest in their bodies. It seems a quite reasonable position really. In contrast, Morris and Bogart also incorporate some of the video shot by the foolhardy thrill seekers venturing into the Exclusion Zone, often inspired by the Stalker video game. It is certainly fascinating footage to watch, but stupid as Hell.

Indeed, Morris and Bogart had to take a tag team approach to limit their exposure. We also get a series of timely reality checks from Vita Polyakova, a government guide, who shares the filmmakers’ affection for the Babushkas. Still, between the wolves and the returnees, you have to wonder if there are natural phenomena at work off-setting the effects of radiation.

Granted, the Babushkas are steadily passing away, but what can we expect. They survived the Holodomor, the National Socialist occupation, and in some cases terrible marriages. Frankly, their resiliency and ironic humor is impressive. They are almost as old as Bernie Sanders, but they have actually lived under the socialism he is so blindly devoted to. Perhaps we should listen to them when they tell us to keep plenty of moonshine and pig fat handy. Recommended for the rugged charm of its subjects and an intriguing view of a land few will visit, The Babushkas of Chernobyl screens this Wednesday (11/18) and Thursday (11/19) at the IFC Center, as part of the 20105 DOC NYC.

DOC NYC '15: Harold and Lillian

By now, nobody puts too much stock in Wikipedia and other online databases. This is especially true when it comes to the filmographies of Harold and Lillian Michelson. For years, their contributions to classic Hollywood productions as a story board artist and researcher have been vaguely credited or completely uncredited. They finally get their due in Daniel Raim’s Harold and Lillian: a Hollywood Love Story (trailer here), which screens during this year’s DOC NYC.

Unsung is maybe a slight exaggeration in Harold’s case, since he was able to graduate up to production designer gigs, earning two Oscar nominations (including one for Star Trek: the Motion Picture). Still, it is not like people out there are saying: “of course, Harold Michelson. He was the production designer on Johnny Got his Gun.” Credits for Lillian Michelson are even sketchier, but she enriched hundreds of pictures, often through research into period design details, but also into more specialized fields, such as occult imagery for the dream sequences in Rosemary’s Baby. Francis Ford Coppola thought so much of her, he ensconced her and her research library at his Zoetrope Studios, but unfortunately that did not last as long as he hoped.

Obviously, their Greatest Generation romance and six decades of marriage are of central importance to the film. It is quite endearing, but most viewers will be more interested in their contributions to classic cinema. Happily, one of the directors who comes off the best in their recollections is everyone’s favorite auteur, Alfred Hitchcock, who treated Harold like a genuine collaborator on The Birds and Marnie. Coppola and Mel Brooks also have plenty of nice things to say as does Harold’s old crony, executive producer Danny DeVito.

Sadly, Harold Michelson passed away in 2007, but Raim still has sufficient interview footage for him to be a consistent presence in the film. The poems in his handcrafted valentines and birthday cards to Lillian also provide an ironic running commentary on their lives. However, the surviving Lillian always gets the last word, not that that would concern her beloved Harold. She is absolutely lovely, but she can also dish like Hedda Hopper, which makes her reminiscences highly watchable.

The Michelsons’ work is way more interesting than you might think and they are quite charming to spend time with. It is a super nice film that will be catnip for regular TCM viewers. Warmly recommended, Harold and Lillian screens tomorrow (11/17) and Wednesday (11/18) at the IFC Center, as part of the 20105 DOC NYC.

DOC NYC ’15: On the Rim of the Sky

By now, Westerners know to be wary whenever do-gooder activists show up offering their services out of the goodness of their hearts. A provincial Chinese primary school teacher learns that lesson the hard way in one of the most isolated schools in the world. Xu Hongjie documented every agonizing step of the resulting clash of values and personalities in On the Rim of the Sky (trailer here), which screens during this year’s DOC NYC.

You know what they say about the Road to Hell? Well, in this case, it is debatable just how good the Che Guevara-idolizing Bao Tangtao’s intentions really are. Regardless, it is safe to say he enjoys getting praised for his supposed altruism. In contrast, “Teacher Shen” Qijun has been content to quietly plug away as the only teacher students of Gulu village have known for the last twenty-five years. However, because Shen only has a middle school diploma, the educational bureaucracy classifies him as a substitute teacher. As a result, he has earned a pittance compared to so-called full time teachers.

Since Gulu is literally built into the side of a treacherous cliff face, Shen has been the only teacher willing to stay in the mountain village. Initially, he welcomed the help offered by Bao and his colleagues from an Americorps style non-profit, but it was clear the “volunteers” were more interested in taking bows than actually teaching, right from the start. Unfortunately, Shen also flashes his temper a little too freely, resulting in a bitter and prolonged conflict between the two. Frustratingly, most of the village apparently sides with Bao and his cronies, because they can bring the development funds. Despite the official complaints they convince the villagers to file, Shen has one trump card in their power struggle—he controls the school’s bank account.

Rim is one of the most draining, disillusioning films you will see all year. Xu resists playing favorites between Shen and Bao, but she simply catches the latter in too many unflattering moments to maintain an air of neutrality. Plus, the bitterly ironic implications of the closing scene are impossible to miss.

The drama Xu records is massively real and the stakes are hugely significant. Yet, just the act of filming in Gulu represented a serious challenge. It is about as accessible as Shangri-La, but that vivid sense of place further distinguishes Rim from equally disenchanting but dingier looking independent Chinese documentaries.

Rim plays like a collaboration between Jia Zhangke and Arthur Miller, but it is all real life happening. It is a real feat of nonfiction filmmaking that will make you gasp in several different ways. Xu’s multi-year investment pays off in spades with a film that will ultimately turn your stomach to ice. Very highly recommended, On the Rim of the World screens this Sunday morning (11/15) at the IFC Center, as part of DOC NYC ’15.

DOC NYC ’15: Missing People

Classifying the late Roy Ferdinand is a tricky business. Is he a legit fine artist, a marginalized “outsider artist,” or as he labels himself, a reformed “Original Gangster?” Martina Batan is unusually qualified to render a judgement. For thirty years, she has curated shows at a leading Manhattan gallery. Tragically, her family was also the victim of a violent crime. Clearly, Batan has never adequately processed the murder of her youngest brother. However, it is just as evident she gets some sort of cathartic fix from Ferdinand’s often violent and sexualized New Orleans street scenes. Well after their deaths, Batan will try to better understand the fate of both men in David Shapiro’s Missing People (trailer here), which screens during this year’s DOC NYC.

In 1978, Jeffrey Batan was found murdered in the courtyard of a Queens housing project. His shirtless body had been repeatedly stabbed. Technically, his unsolved case remains open. Batan and her immigrant Filipino-American parents were ill-equipped to deal with the brutality and senselessness of the crime (perhaps it is telling no other Batan family members appear in Missing). Yet despite the hip, sarcastic persona Batan cultivated, she remained haunted by her brother’s murder. For reasons that escape her, Batan starts obsessively collecting and cataloging Ferdinand’s work, hoping to establish his proper place in the canon of American art. Around the time of her first visit to Ferdinand’s sisters in the Crescent City, she also hires private investigator Conor McCourt to probe her brother’s case.

Granted, the NYPD was nearly overwhelmed with crime in the late 1970s, but their image still takes a beating in Missing. In contrast, McCourt inspires plenty of professional confidence. The 1978 case could not be any colder, but he still uncovers considerable pertinent information. Unfortunately, due to unforeseen circumstances, there will not be anything remotely resembling closure in the film.

Frankly, Shapiro and editors Becky Laks and Adam Kurnitz deserve a great deal of credit for shaping the documentary into a dramatic narrative, given their third act challenges. Nevertheless, as awkward as it is to say, Batan is often a problematically frustrating focal point. She frequently seems willfully oblivious of her own hang-ups and obsessive behavior, whereas viewers can immediately dash off an armchair diagnosis that will hold-up pretty darn well.

Still, the details of Ferdinand’s bluntly powerful art and McCourt’s investigation are fascinating. Archival interviews with the artist also add quite a lot of grit and a bit of panache. He certainly played his part to the hilt. However, Batan’s angst is the bond holding the disparate pieces together, which makes for some uneasy connective sequences. Still, it is an impressive example of a documentary filmmaker dealing with an awful curveball. Recommended with limited reservations for connoisseurs of outsider art and fans of sophisticated true crime, Missing People screens this Sunday (11/15) at the Bow Tie Chelsea and Wednesday (11/18) at the IFC Center, as part of DOC NYC.

DOC NYC ’15: Sky Line

In the 1970s, Arthur C. Clarke predicted that you would read this review. It was all a matter of science and he was one of the best at putting the “s” in “sf.” Recently, Danny Boyle’s Steve Jobs opened with Clarke outlandish prophecy personal computers would one day become commonplace and now a new documentary prominently features Clarke’s conception of a space elevator and the 1979 novel The Fountains of Paradise in which they reshape our world. Of course, his predictions regarding computers have already come to pass, but the space elevator’s time has not yet come. Miguel Drake-McLaughlin & Jonny Leahan profile the scientists and entrepreneurs trying to realize the not-impossible space elevator dream in Sky Line (trailer here), premiering at this year’s DOC NYC.

Sky Line does a super job explaining the space elevator idea for layman, which in itself is probably a significant contribution to the discourse. Essentially, it is like a tether ball. Some kind of node is attached to the terra firma by an enormous chord that becomes taut due to the Earth’s rotation. In theory, we should be able to zip cargo and space vessels up that line much more economically than by using dirty old rockets. The problem is we do not quite have strong enough material for the cable yet, but we are close.

The space elevator seems tantalizingly doable, but NASA has not exactly taken a leadership role in its development. It has largely been left to private academic and entrepreneurial concerns. Some of the various space elevator proponents share what could be described as a friendly rivalry, whereas others clearly do not. Michael Laine, the founder of LiftPort seems to a real feather-ruffler, but he certainly put his money where his mouth was. He is also probably the film’s best interview subject.

There is a lot of interesting science made understandable in Sky Line, but probably the coolest stuff in the film are the excerpts from the abridged Fountains of Paradise LP read by Clarke himself and all the striking retro Chesley Bonestell-style concept art. Unfortunately, the film suffers from the lack of a clear dramatic arc, but there is not a lot Drake-McLaughlin and Leahan could do about that, short of rolling up their sleeves and brainstorming a breakthrough in carbon nanotube technology.

Arguably, there is even more urgency to the drive to realize the space elevator concept than Sky Line suggests. Right now, the American space program has no manned space travel capacity. We are entirely dependent on Russia if we want to hitch a ride to the International Space Station. Obviously, this is a highly problematic situation. Regardless, Sky Line does a nice job explaining the concepts and benefits of the space elevator, but it doesn’t quite fire up the audience the way proponents were probably hoping. However, it is highly informative, which is certainly laudable. Recommended for space program boosters and those interested in popular science, Sky Line screens this Sunday (11/15) and the following Wednesday (11/18) at the IFC Center, as part of DOC NYC 2015.

DOC NYC ’15: I Am Sun Mu

In the post-Warhol era, Sun Mu is one of the few (perhaps only) artists who shuns the media as well as the trappings of fame. He has good reason. As a defector from North Korea, he must be secretive, for reasons of survival. Even his professional name is a pseudonym, meaning “no boundaries.” Despite the differences in their circumstances and styles, it is not impossible to compare him to Ai Weiwei. It was therefore quite a surprise when he was invited to mount a solo show in China. Adam Sjöberg chronicles the artist’s eventful visit while scrupulously protecting his identity in I A Sun Mu, which screens during this year’s DOC NYC.

You might think you know exactly where this story is headed and you will be correct, except there is way, way more to it. Not surprisingly, Sun Mu’s work is controversial in South Korea (he bristles at the term “pop art,” but it is handy shorthand in this context). Through a strange chain of events, Sun Mu befriended Chinese-Korean artist Cui Xiangi, who introduced him to Liang Ke-gang, the curator of the Yuan Museum of Art in Beijing. Being extraordinarily brave and maybe a bit naïve, Liang proposed a one-man exhibition to Sun Mu. Although mindful of the considerable risks, the prestige involved was too significant to turn down.

Thanks to Liang’s hospitality, the early days in China were quite pleasant for Sun Mu, his South Korean wife, and their young daughters. However, as the opening day approaches, tension rises. In addition to the usual last minute crunch, Sun Mu and Liang worry the Chinese government will disrupt their plans at the request of their North Korean allies. Had the Party allowed the show to proceed, their critics would have had to give them credit and eat crow. Unfortunately, that plate of crow will have to wait for another day. If anything, the Chinese authorities and North Korean enforcers exceed our expectations, in the worst way possible.

Like a quarterback facing a ferocious pass rush, Sjöberg stays in the pocket, capturing the ugliness of censorship and thuggery as it unfolds. That alone gives the film scalding power. However, Sjöberg also fully explores the implications of Sun Mu’s life and art. In many ways, he is one of the luckier defectors, who has been able to de-program his “brainwashing,” start a loving family, and build an impressive career. His stories of life in the DPRK are absolutely harrowing, but his exile also comes with deep sadness. Yet, he has no nostalgia for the Kim Dynasty, whom he explicitly blames for the North Koreans’ suffering.

Throughout the film, Sjöberg films Sun Mu from behind or obscured by shadows, which might sound distractingly awkward, but actually gives the film a distinctively noir vibe. He truly immerses viewers in Sun Mu’s work, which Ryan Wehner literally brings to life through elegant animated sequences. As a result, even though we never see Sun Mu directly, the audience will feel they intimately understand the artist.

Among documentaries, I Am Sun Mu is a rare breed apart that manages to be visually stylish and gutsy as all get-out. Frankly, the last half hour is like one cold bucket of water to the face after another. Yet, it is ultimately a deeply humanist cinematic experience. Easily ranking as the best of this year’s DOC NYC and one of the best films currently on the festival circuit, I Am Sun Mu screens in New York this Sunday (11/15) at the Bow Tie Chelsea and Tuesday (11/17) at the IFC Center, as well as next Friday (11/20) and the following Saturday (11/21) as part of the 2015 Hawaii International Film Festival.

DOC NYC ’15: Colors of Life (short)

When in Japan, forget about ROYBIV. Colors are a richer, more subtle affair there. Natural dye and textile master artist Fukumi Shimura and her daughter Yoko will explain the “48 hues of browns and the 100 grays” for the benefit of westerners in Goro Ushijima’s short documentary Colors of Life (trailer here), which screens as part of the Shorts: Expressions programming block at this year’s DOC NYC.

The Shimuras use pigments found in nature to dye silk rich, earthy colors. The senior Shimura is a particular expert in madder, while the younger has a passion for Indigo. Just visiting their atelier is a treat. It seems to exist someplace outside of time, surrounded by lush, verdant vegetation.

Although just under fifteen minutes, Colors of Life is visually distinctive and peacefully contemplative to an extent that is truly rare documentary filmmaking. Cinematographers Kim Ch’ung-hwan and Takeyoshi Suzuki capture a vivid sense of the artists’ atelier and its sheltering environs. However, one of the most striking aspects of the film is its holistic, interconnected sense of art. As Fukumi Shimura explains, her conception of art and color (as well as her haiku poetry) are partly influenced by the writings of Goethe and the tenets of Buddhism. Of course, the cycle continues, with her textile art inspiring Ushijima’s film.

Colors of Life is a lovely and thoughtful film that would be perfectly paired with Kenny Dalsheimer’s A Weaverly Path, the documentary portrait of textile artist Silvia Heyden, featuring the music of Eri Yamamoto. Colors is almost a haiku in itself, but there is more substance to it than such a description would suggest. Highly recommended, Colors of Life screens this Saturday (11/14) at the IFC Center, as part of the Shorts: Expressions program at DOC NYC 2015.

DOC NYC ’15: Mad Tiger

Despite what you may have heard, punk is not dead yet. It just needs a bit of theatrics and costuming to perk it up. The Japanese band Peelander-Z is all over that. Their music is whatever, but their ruckus stage shows combine elements of Jackass, Sun Ra, and the Power Rangers. They are definitely a cult act, but they have sort of made a go of it. However, they are about to experience a rocky patch of soul-searching in Jonathan Yi & Michael Haertlein’s Mad Tiger (trailer here), which screens during this year’s DOC NYC.

Supposedly Peelander-Z hails from Planet Peelander. Why have they come to Earth? To rock, dummy. Peelander Yellow (a.k.a. Kengo Hioki, he’s the one with the bright yellow hair) has fronted the band since 1998, which is an eternity in punk time. For twelve of those years, Peelander Red has been their bass player and the go-to-guy for really off-the-wall physical stunts. When he decides to retire, Peelander Yellow quickly replaces him with Peelander Purple, his old friend from the dark side of Peelander. However, both Yellow and Red have trouble finding the closure they were hoping to reach.

Let’s be honest. Peelander Z is more punk than the old school punk of the late 1970s. Take for instance Peelander Yellow’s Letterman tooth gap. He originally broke his front tooth during a performance at Bonnaroo, but he gave up trying to replace it with a crown, because he kept breaking those as well.

Yi (who directed Peelander-Z’s “So Many Mike” video) and Haertlein vividly capture the bedlam of the Peelander experience, but they also document some backstage drama worthy of the old Behind the Music docu-series. They might be kind of nuts, but they have the same problems as more conventional bands. They also need more time for dying their hair, but fortunately they have a cool band stylist with a good sense of humor.

Mad Tiger is a ton of fun, but it also takes Peelander Yellow’s sudden feelings of spiritual emptiness seriously. Believe it or not, it might just include the most positive, sympathetic depiction of Christianity in any DOC NYC film this year, due to the scenes of Yellow reconnecting with his converted family in Japan. Sure, there are plenty of giant squids in Mad Tiger (named for one of their greatest hits), yet is also an acutely human film, in an intergalactic kind of way.

It is indeed a super film that comes fully loaded with energy, attitude, and lunacy. Very highly recommended for punk fans and Peelander expats, Mad Tiger screens Friday night (11/13) at the IFC Center, as part of DOC NYC 2015.

DOC NYC ’15: The Jazz Loft According to W. Eugene Smith

It was the jazz loft scene before the “Loft Jazz Scene.” In the mid-1970s, downtown lofts like Sam Rivers’ Studio Rivbea were an important venue for the fiery Free Jazz artists that were not getting commercial club bookings. They were sort of following in the tradition of W. Eugene Smith, who hosted round-the-clock jam sessions in his Flower District living space from 1957 to 1965. As a professional photographer and amateur reel-to-reel tape-recorder, Smith documented a great deal of the music and the comings and goings of the musicians drawn to his scene. Treasures from his chaotic archive are revealed in Sara Fishko’s The Jazz Loft According to W. Eugene Smith, the documentary component of WNYC’s multimedia Jazz Loft project, which screens during this year’s DOC NYC.

In the late 1950s, Smith was widely recognized as one of the nation’s leading photo-essayists, but like a good jazz musician, he badly mismanaged his career. Although not a musician himself, he shared a natural affinity for jazz artists, like his neighbor, Hall Overton. If jazz fans are having trouble placing that name, Overton was an accomplished jazz and classical composer who co-led sessions for Prestige with Jimmy Raney and Teddy Charles. He also arranged Thelonius Monk’s compositions for a ten-piece orchestra performance at Town Hall. Naturally, they rehearsed those demanding charts at the Sixth Avenue loft space, where Smith duly recorded them at work.

Fittingly, one of the musicians Fishko interviews is the great Freddie Redd, featured in both the Off-Broadway production of Jack Gelber’s The Connection and Shirley Clarke’s film adaptation. Indeed, its fictional narrative seems not so very far removed from events that transpired there. Unfortunately, that included heroin use, as drummer Ronnie Free explains in detail.

There is a lot of great music in Jazz Loft, but Fishko also gives Smith his due as a photographer. Thanks to his painstaking printing techniques, the contrast between light and shadow in Smith’s black-and-white images is often resembles Renaissance painting. In some ways, the film also functions as a time capsule, incorporating eccentric details of the late 1950s-early 1960s era, such as radio show hosted Long John Nebel, a sort of forerunner to Art Bell and George Noory, to whom Smith often set rather bizarre but expensive telegrams.

In addition to Redd and Free, Fishko includes the reminiscences of Phil Woods (always a lively interview subject), David Amram (who seems like a nice fellow based on a few email exchanges), Carla Bley, Steve Swallow, Dave Frishberg, Bill Crow, and Overton’s colleague, Steve Reich, as well as some contemporary perspective from Jason Moran. That is quite a diverse but talented ensemble.

Arguably, one point Fishko might have emphasized more was the stylistic openness of the sessions. Apparently Zoot Sims ruled the roost whenever he was in town, but Dixieland trumpeter Wingy Manone was equally welcome as his Hardbop, Bebop, and Swing colleagues. That was cool and very jazz. In fact, the entire film is a nostalgic, finger-snapping celebration of music and photography. At times, Jazz Loft is distinguished by a tone of clear-eyed sadness for the human weaknesses that sabotaged so many remarkable artists, but it is mostly just a swinging good time. Highly recommended hip eyes and ears, The Jazz Loft Scene According to W. Eugene Smith screens this Friday (11/13) at the Chelsea Bowtie and next Monday (11/16) at the IFC Center, as part of DOC NYC.