Honky Tonk Dirt was partially funded by a grant from the Regional Arts and Culture Council.

REVIEW
I'll Show You Mine...
The Clinton Street Theatre presents three documentaries by local filmmakers--including someone we all know and love.

BY DAVID WALKER
dwalker@wweek.com

It was brutally cold in the Midwest during the winter of '99, and I was freezing my ass off. Icicles were hanging from my nose in the 20-below-zero weather of Minnesota as I asked Matt, "What the hell are we doing here?"

Matt was my cameraman; he was along with me for a three-week tour of duty in Minnesota, Illinois and Michigan. We were working on Stand Up for Steel, a documentary I had been hired to produce and direct for the United Steelworkers of America. The purpose of the film was to educate people about illegally imported steel being sold in America at below market value and the effect it was having on the American economy, so the public would put pressure on the government to pass new trade laws.

The final project was to be 30 minutes long and would play as an infomercial on television stations across the United States--potentially being seen by millions of people. That never happened. Instead, a few days after Matt finished editing a short version of the film, President Clinton signed a bill banning the sale of foreign steel below market value. The plug was pulled, and suddenly, there was no need for Stand Up for Steel.

Being a filmmaker can be tough. For every feature film and documentary that plays in theatres or finds a home on video or television, there are dozens that never get seen, languishing in the limbo that is lack of distribution. While the challenges of getting a film made can seem insurmountable, getting your film seen can be even more difficult--I know this from firsthand experience. This week, the Clinton Street Theatre presents a one-night offering of short documentaries by local filmmakers whose work otherwise might not be seen.

Honky Tonk Dirt, the debut film from the creative team of Rob Tyler, Adrienne Leverette and Eric Schopmeyer, is the foundation on which Thursday night's show has been built. The 43-minute documentary chronicles the life of Lucky Buster, the street musician who graced the streets of Northwest Portland for several years until moving back to Kentucky this past September.

For anyone who frequented Northwest 21st and 23rd avenues, or for those who lived in the neighborhood, Lucky was a fixture--one both entertaining and annoying--belting out honky-tonk tunes on his steel-string guitar. Like many people, I would occasionally drop some change in his guitar case, but I never took the time to get to know the grizzled old man. I didn't know he once opened for the likes of Merle Haggard and Johnny Cash or that he was a radio DJ. I didn't know where he came from or that he had kids.

"We got to stop and experience a part of the community we previously overlooked--to experience the community as a whole," says Schopmeyer, who describes working with Lucky as "unique and transforming."

In contrast to the personal intimacy of Honky Tonk Dirt is Kyle Yamada's Protest in LA: Unmasking the 2000 Democratic Convention. Inspired by the WTO protests he saw in Seattle, Yamada headed to Los Angeles, suspecting he might find similar events unfolding at the Democratic Convention. What he and Debbie Levy captured on video is an insider's look at the protests surrounding the event. The footage captures the blind partisan loyalty of Democrats, organized protest against Al Gore and police brutality directed at the protesters.

By his own admission, Yamada's film tends to preach to the choir. "A lot of people who have seen it are sympathetic to the cause," says Yamada, who hopes his film will reach a broader audience than those who already know something is wrong with our government.

The final film on the Thursday-night program is the seven-minute short version of Stand Up for Steel--the film I directed and produced. For those of you who have been looking for a new reason to attack me, my seven-minute opus should provide ample opportunity for all my detractors to find fault with my filmmaking abilities.

But beyond offering a chance to get in a few jabs, Thursday night's show gives other local filmmakers the opportunity to share their work with an audience outside their living rooms. More important, it gives audiences a chance to see something different--and hopefully more fulfilling--than anything else playing in town.