The film “Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets” premiered as part of the documentary competition at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, where it was described as a portrait of the closing night at a long-running dive bar in Las Vegas. In reality, the movie was shot over several nights at a bar in New Orleans, not scripted but definitely staged, with the subjects hand selected by the filmmakers.
The denizens of the bar, this ad hoc community, have a thrown-together diversity of age, race, gender, orientation and identity, which makes it feel like a snapshot of America, with all the good and bad baggage that implies. Names are caught on the fly, sometimes not at all.Michael Martin, who once aspired to be an actor, now carries himself as a fallen barstool philosopher and provides many of the film’s most piercing moments of emotional clarity.
Edited by Bill Ross IV, the film moves with the longueurs of spending way too long in one place. Occasionally, the time will flash on screen, at disorienting, odd intervals. Has it been 40 minutes or four hours? Eventually, the crowd grows and then thins as people begin to peel off to wherever their other places may be. As dawn breaks and the bar closes up one last time, they are all suddenly on their own — perhaps to another bar, another town or who knows where.
News flash, it's not a documentary, its a fiction. When you invent the story it's is work of fiction. I am all for marketing, but this bothers me in a newspaper.
LA bars always have low ceilings compared to Chicago and NY.
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