text: 12/17/01 All I can do with this film is improvise on my impressions. I wasn't given the "changes," don't know the "score," and am not schooled in the genre. I always had problems following chord changes anyway (trumpet player, y'know), so I was pretty well limited to doing the basic "keep the tune in mind" and ad lib around that. What jammed me up about this incredibly moody black and white blues piece was the knot it gave me in my head and heart in trying to figure out whether to go with the ensemble or pick out a path along the tune (story.) I guess I went with the tune as usual; I kept getting lost on the changes--too deep, extensive, over my head, probably. Still, it was a gas to try to keep pace. I admired the actors' playing to the theme and story line. I didn't see some things or heare things others seem to: I didn't feel the light skin gal was "trying to pass" as much as she was either oblivious to the color issue or was trying to ignore it--at first: later she came back fighting. The brooding light skin young man (his trumpet noodling mas ludicrous) was ambiguous, ambivalent, and --perhaps his best feature--remote. What, I thought after the shadow-curtain closed on this provocative piece--is the foundation of a thing like this? Is it a way of finding "reality" by setting up a stage, peopling it with expressive characters and giving them a melody and theme? Is it any more real or truthful than a well-crafted script--without the benefit of editing and revising? Is improvisation heroic, "artier"?--moreso than crafted work? Where is there greater or clearer truth: in retrospective art/craft or in fabrication and reformation? Well, I am still lost in this question. I loved the film; it got me lost in a cool blue foggy evening, where I just had to go home and get out my horn. Guess what? I broke out in a twelve-bar blues riff, tried and true--couldn't make myself stray from the tune. Reality is just too scary. jaime says give them a 7 and more. I'm on break.