Sunday, December 01, 2013

 

Treme No. 32: Yes We Can Can, Part I

BLOGGER'S NOTE: This recap contains spoilers, so if you haven't seen the episode yet, move along. Unfortunately, another hospitalization put the final nail in me finishing this first recap on time and places the remaining recaps in doubt and jeopardy.

By Edward Copeland
As we return to our friends in New Orleans more than a year after we last looked in our their lives, it happens to be Election Day 2008, and we see the familiar trappings of any campaign — signs stacked on top of one another, long lines of citizens eager to perform their civic duty, poll workers taking their seats, ballot boxes being unlocked and set up and, finally, the actual process of voting taking place. During this montage, we catch our first sightings of characters we know. Desiree (Phyllis Montana-Leblanc) watches news reports of the expectations of a historic day while Honoré plays at her mother’s feet. Toni and Sofia Bernette (Melissa Leo, India Ennenga) stand in line together, awaiting the college freshman’s first chance to vote in a presidential election. Playing throughout this section of the premiere’s opening, we hear “Every Man a King,” the campaign song used by Louisiana’s legendary Huey Long and currently being spun by DJ Davis McAlary (Steve Zahn) on WWOZ. As the tune ends, McAlary explains the station’s theme that day aims to play songs of political import. “The polls have indeed opened in our politically calcified and corrupt state and remember, if you want your vote to matter, the question is 'What are you doing here?' To paraphrase the great Lafcadio Hearn, better to vote once in Ohio in sackcloth and ashes than 10 times in every parish in Louisiana,” Davis tells his listeners, before switching to Allen Touissant’s own version of the song which gives this episode its title, “Yes We Can Can,” a song Touissant originally wrote as “Yes We Can” for Lee Dorsey in 1970, but which added the extra "Can" when it became a 1973 funk hit for The Pointer Sisters. (I swore I did try to avoid going overboard on the background, but I imagine I'll let up as outside forces close in on the time needed for even bare-bones recaps.)


As Toussaint’s “Yes We Can Can” glides us from WWOZ to the Lambreaux residence, Albert (Clarke Peters) sews in his driveway, mystifying his children Delmond and Davina (Rob Brown, Edwina Findley) that he lacks interest in joining their trip to the polls. Del emphasizes that the chance to vote for a black man for president might not come again soon, but his father stoically replies, “You really think that’s going to change some shit?” Though the last time we saw the big chief, chemo had left him bald. Now, his hair has returned and he’s regrown his mustache. After voting, Antoine Batiste (Wendell Pierce) and Desiree come upon a musical garden party of sorts, where John Boutté sings Sam Cooke’s classic “A Change Is Gonna Come.” Sonny (Michiel Huisman) drops Linh and her father Tran (Hong Chau, Lee Nguyen) off to vote, but Tran questions why he isn’t coming in order to tell his wife how to vote. Sonny explains he isn’t a citizen, so Tran says he’ll tell Linh what to do this time. Tran plans to vote for McCain. “Democrats in Vietnam — they quit, give up. Republicans for me, always,” Tran says. Sonny shrugs to his wife and asks, “McCain?” Linh just grins and replies, “Father knows best.” When Antoine asks James Andrews who’s paying him for the gig with Boutté, he tells Batiste that all the gathered musicians are working for free. Antoine decides to go home and retrieve his bone. While Albert expressed disinterest to his children, he sits on his couch and watches the television reports of the long lines that began early on this Election Day. Once Antoine has joined Boutté and the other musicians, they burst forth with “Glory Glory Hallelujah.” When no one watches, Albert himself turns up at a polling station. As the day turns into night, the celebratory atmosphere intensifies as Toni and Sofia join an Obama rally outside Kermit Ruffins’ Sidney’s Saloon, also attended by Antoine and Desiree and presided over by Ruffins himself, where all watch Barack Obama’s acceptance speech from Chicago. “That’s your president, baby,” Antoine tells Honoré. “He looks just like you.” Back at home, Albert again watches alone, still with an uncertain sadness about him. Ruffins blows his trumpet and makes his ways through the crowd shouting, “Yes we can” repeatedly until he gets to the middle of St. Bernard Avenue alone, clear of the crowd, and sees the flashing lights of police cars in the distance. Some things remain the same. The entire opening sequence of the premiere (written by David Simon & Eric Overmyer & George Pelecanos, directed by Anthony Hemingway) runs for nearly seven minutes. It’s a beautiful sight to behold and a great beginning to our final hours with our friends in Treme.

Following the credit sequence, we slowly pan from a group of chickens gathered behind the back of a small gray station wagon until we see the vehicle’s door ajar while two roosters near the door seem to be attempting to converse with Davis on his knees in front of his mode of transportation, taken out by a very large pothole. McAlary, in a moment that could be lifted from a Werner Herzog film, unemotionally says, “Fuck you” to the fowl as if they mocked his misfortune.(In the early years of Treme, I felt Zahn received undue criticism for his portrayal of Davis McAlary, many seeing him as little more than a caricature, but I’ve never thought that to be the case. Perhaps part of my defense stems from being an early fan of Zahn’s work both on stage and in films, but the Davis detractors give neither the character nor the actor who inhabits him the credit each deserves or recognize McAlary’s many layers of emotional depth and serious intent when it comes to the musical heritage of New Orleans. Davis McAlary as a whole exists neither as a cartoon nor a buffoon. Now that I recall, Herzog directed Zahn in Rescue Dawn, the feature version of Herzog’s documentary Little Dieter Needs to Fly.) Meanwhile, it appears that last season’s tensions between Tim Feeny (Sam Robards) and Janette Desautel (Kim Dickens) reached a boiling point and Janette no longer works at the restaurant which continues to operate using her name, Desautel’s on the Avenue. Not one to give up, Janette currently paints her own sign for a new restaurant she’s about to open on Dauphine Street at Louisa Street in the Bywater area of New Orleans. Only selecting a name for her new eatery stumps Janette. Her sous chef (and lover when last we saw them) Jacques Jhoni (Ntare Guma Mbaho Mwine) suggests she call it Desautel’s, the only word she’s completed on the sign, but Janette nixes that since it was the name of her first restaurant. She floats the idea of Desautel’s on the Bywater, but Jacques says it summons the image of byproducts and might not be an appetizing image. For now, Janette remains stuck, but Davis’ vehicle does not as a tow truck comes to its rescue, if not McAlary’s. Once the station wagon leaves the scene, the viewer truly realizes what a monster the pothole that ensnared its front wheel is. It must be at least three feet wide, if not more, and who knows how deep, judging by the pooled water flooding to its surface. Davis yells in vain as the tow truck driver vanishes down the road about what should be done about the gaping hole. With no response forthcoming, McAlary surveys the surroundings. We leave New Orleans for a moment to check in on Nelson Hidalgo (Jon Seda), back home in Texas, Galveston to be precise, with his cousin Arnie (Jeffrey Carisalez) in tow, looking for new projects in the wake of Hurricane Ike. Hidalgo also busies himself cursing at not getting through to one of his brokers, telling Arnie that the elusive man has “Five mil of mine under this guy’s ass and I can’t get him on the phone like he’s just some discount broker? What the fuck is that?” Nelson meets with two businessmen, Jimmy Staunton and Doug McCreary (Patrick Kirton, John Niesler), about getting involved in the demolition game in Texas. McCreary asks how big a slice Hidalgo might like and Nelson tells him he already has 15 crews ready to work and can get more if needed. “You didn’t like New Orleans much?” McCreary inquires. “Work was good, but I’m home now and damn glad to be back in the Lone Star State, believe you me,” Nelson replies. Staunton declares that if Nelson is tight with Bobby (a reference to a character named Bobby Don Baxter, a Texas demolition baron that Nelson enlisted to help tear down the Lafitte Projects in Season 3), he’s tight with Staunton. However, in order to get the contracts, Nelson must use the Houston bank that McCreary happens to own. Back in the Crescent City, it first appears as if Davis plans to repair the pothole himself as he wheels a shopping cart out to it filled with buckets and what appear to be supplies. Instead, he uses the cart, buckets and various other tools to create an almost modern art sculpture tall enough to warn motorists and to cover the road hazard. “My work here is done,” Davis proclaims as he walks away. (This section of the episode — and you could include the Galveston scene I’m about to recap as part of it as well — cuts from one short scene to the next in ways that often proved disruptive in many Season 2 episodes but, as in Season 3, they’ve fixed that flow problem so it doesn’t feel as if the viewer constantly hits a road bump for no good reason. They don’t have an underlying connection as the magnificent collection of short scenes in this episode’s pre-credit sequence does, but that segment had Election Day to serve as the cake for which those disconnected moments could be frosted into confectionery perfection, giving us one of the greatest openings of a Treme episode ever in the first of its final five. However, even when they don’t feel superfluous, because of health difficulties and other interruptions that barely allowed me to post this first recap on time and put the timeliness of the remaining four in question, I will be leaving many scenes I deem of lesser importance out of these pieces entirely.)

Back in Galveston, Nelson's broker finally returns his call and gets an earful from Hidalgo as to why he hasn't sold his stocks yet. "We are shedding like a thousand points on the Dow in the two days since the election. I can't take anymore," a more subdued Nelson tells his broker on the other end of the line before erupting again, "Get me out of this fuckin' market now!" As Nelson pockets his phone, he joins Arnie at a food stand selling Tex-Mex cuisine where Arnie and Nelson's lunch orders wait on the counter. "What do you think happened?" Arnie asks. "It's Obama, I guess," the erstwhile Republican Hidalgo speculates. "Wall Street doesn't like the guy or something, but this shit started two months ago when they let Lehman Brothers go under," Nelson declares, pointing at his cousin for emphasis. Arnie asks how much of a hit Nelson has taken so far from the economic collapse. "Between yesterday and today, what I lost about two months ago — about a million four and climbing," Hidalgo replies. "Don't worry. These are on me," Arnie reassures his cousin about paying for lunch. A somewhat clumsy instrumental version of the children’s gospel classic “This Little Light of Mine” (composed by Harry Dixon Loes around 1920 and recorded in numerous styles and genres with its lyrics.) plays us out of Galveston and into the Theophile Jones Elie band room. Antoine circles the young teens before urging his budding musicians to stop, telling them that the notes emanating from their instruments are "cacophonous — from the Greek word caca." Antoine asks the kids why they aren't coming prepared as they'd discussed and one replies that they are trying. "Not hard enough," Mr. Batiste tells his class. One of the students, Markell (Markell Henderson), admits to missing the former lead instructor, Mr. LeCoeur, who left for a post at a New Orleans high school. Antoine tells the band that LeCoeur isn't coming back and the students have him as their instructor year-round now. As Batiste lectures the kids about coming to class "correct," Cherise (Camryn Jackson) disassembles her saxophone, places it in its case and prepares to leave. Antoine inquires about her destination and Cherise tells him that she has to pick up her little brother, though Jennifer (Jazz Henry) teases that Cherise plans to hook up with her boyfriend. The bell rings for the day, so most everyone exits anyway. Antoine shakes his head and mutters to himself about someone as young as Cherise already having a boyfriend. Then he notices Robert (Jaron Williams) still sitting in his desk, staring down and shaking. Antoine asks Robert what's wrong because he knows it couldn't have been him playing that horn. "It hurts, Mister Batiste," Robert replies, indicating his groin area as his trumpet bounces up and down off his jittery legs. Antoine asks the boy if he's been "pulling on it" and his student offers the additional information that "it burns when I pee. It's sticky down there." Pierce delivers a great empathetic cringe once he realizes what afflicts one of his best students. Antoine inquires as to whether Robert has had sex and the prodigy once nick-named Bear tells of one girl in his neighborhood and "she's been bothering me." Antoine sighs, "They all do." He learns, to no great surprise, that Robert lacks both a family doctor or any kind of health insurance. "Gather your things, boy — your horn, too," Batiste tells his student as he puts his coat and cap on, a grin of wistful STD-related nostalgia crossing his face. (As has been the case throughout Treme’s run, Pierce’s portrayal of Antoine remains the series’ heart and soul. Pierce finds new ways to make Antoine funny and serious, often simultaneously, and reveals new sides to Batiste each season. The show manages to give most members of its ensemble cast moments to shine, but I can’t remember a wasted moment involving Pierce.)

We’ve already witnessed changes in several characters’ lives: Janette working on another new restaurant; Nelson feeling the financial impact of the 2008 Wall Street collapse and Antoine becoming the year-round, lead instructor for young band students. The biggest upheaval though may have happened in the life of LaDonna Batiste-Williams (Khandi Alexander). LaDonna and Larry have separated and LaDonna visits with Alcide and Randall (Renwick Scott, Sean-Michael Bruno), her sons by Antoine, on the porch of Larry’s Mid-City home. She asks if the teens if their stepdad treats them well and they tell their mom that Larry even has improved as a cook, though they have breakfast for dinner a lot. “Larry’s a good man and he loves you two like you’re his own,” LaDonna tells the boys, though the oldest, Alcide, immediately fires back with the question, “Then why did you leave?” LaDonna tries to explain to the adolescents that sometimes things just don’t work out between people, but she promises the three of them will be together again soon — though she emphasizes that the reunion won’t occur in the house that holds the porch on which they currently sit. Alcide remains skeptical, having heard LaDonna’s promises before, but she insists that once she gets the bar up and running again that she’ll find a home for the three of them. “You finish the school year out here. It’s what’s best for you,” she tells her hardened oldest son. “Until things sort themselves out.” Alcide looks decidedly unconvinced and unmoved while Randall lets LaDonna cradle him in her arms on the porch swing. Antoine reunites unexpectedly with a former member of his Soul Apostles when he finds Sonny working part-time at The New Orleans Musicians’ Clinic that helps professional musicians who catch the sort of STDs that young Robert has. Sonny tells Antoine that he took this part-time job and does some gigs out of fear he’ll spend so much time on his father-in-law’s fishing boat that he’ll speak Vietnamese better than he does. Unfortunately, the clinic can’t help Robert since he not only isn’t a professional musician, but hasn’t reached the age of 15 yet, though Sonny says The Daughters of Charity at Ochsner will help him. “Fourteen and already burned, huh?” Sonny comments. “Yep. The kid’s a prodigy in more ways than one,” Antoine adds before sharing the hardest aspect about being a New Orleans musician to Sonny: “Having to explain to your girlfriend why she has to take penicillin for your kidney infection. The former bandmates erupt in hearty laughter. Even young Robert grins, though that prompts Batiste to swat him and ask, “What you laughing at, boy?”

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Treme No. 32: Yes We Can Can Part II

BLOGGER'S NOTE: This recap contains spoilers, so if you haven't seen the episode yet, move along.

By Edward Copeland
We finally see Annie (Lucia Micarelli) doing what she does best — playing the hell out of the fiddle with her band Bayou Cadillac on “Do You Wanna Dance” (with French lyrics, no less) on a Lafayette, Louisiana stage. When the set ends, Annie gets a big bear hug from Michael Doucet, founder of the band BeauSoleil, whose group had an album that bore the name Bayou Cadillac. He tells her he loves the name of the band and while Annie worries that he might take offense, Doucet assures her he takes it as a compliment. She tries to spread her exuberance to her manager Marvin Frey (Michael Cerveris), insisting it’s the best show ever and wishing they taped it or the concert in Mobile for a live album. “You might even sell a few copies in Lafayette or Mobile or even New Orleans,” Frey responds unenthusiastically. As Frey and Annie watch Doucet take the stage and Annie imagines being that big in a few years, Frey walks away. “Why do I get the sense that you are trying to tell me something?” Annie asks her manager. Frey tells her that in the music industry, it’s getting harder to survive on the margins. Her album did what it did but once they get north of a certain point geographically, it goes nowhere. “Doing rock ‘n’ roll dance hall tunes en francais in Lafayette?” Frey poses. “What the fuck Marvin? We’re in Lafayette,” Annie replies. “That’s right. You’re in Lafayette. I just thought you were hungrier than that,” Frey tells his client.


Terry (David Morse) looks quite comfortable reading the Times-Picayune sports section in Toni’s living room as he complains about the Atlanta Falcons who will face off against the hometown Saints with a 4-4 record. He fears he’s boring Toni with the football talk, but she surprises him with her pigskin player knowledge. Sofia breezes through the room, as she prepares to return east to school, and notes how comfy Colson seems in the house, asking if the living arrangement is permanent. Her mom informs Sofia that the city demolished Terry’s house. “I was too late getting started. Mold and rot had its way with everything,” Terry tells Sofia, who asks what she should call him now — Terry? Detective Colson? Colson suggests The Tall Guy. Colson inquires of Toni if she’d mind if he’d spend Thanksgiving with her and Sofia in New Orleans. He’d already asked his sons in Indianapolis and they approved, though Colson realizes he should’ve broached the subject with Toni first. Toni insists that both she and Sofia would love to have him there. (Morse has been so great in so many roles since his first splash on St. Elsewhere, that he truly was a welcome sight in his recurring role in the first season, even more so once he became a regular in Season Two) Annie seeks advice from ex-boyfriend Davis about Marvin’s advice that she dump Bayou Cadillac in favor of Nashville studio musicians. “I should tell him to go fuck himself, right? Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say?” Annie asks McAlary. While Davis agrees with her problems with Frey, he also admits that his relationship with the Lost Highway record label beats any local label, including his own. Annie thanks him for lending her his ear. “What else are psychically wounded ex-lovers for?” Davis replies before hopping on a bicycle and heading to his own label. He asks Don B. if his Aunt Mimi might be on the premises, but Don says between the two of them, most days he feels as if he’s holding down the fort by himself. He then gives Davis his paycheck, which McAlary complains will go to more than $800 in repairs for the pothole debacle. He also asks Don to admit that most days Bartholomew would pay to keep Davis out of the office. Before McAlary scampers off, Don gives him a demo of “the next big thing” that will come out of New Orleans, which turns out to be a new work by Trombone Shorty.(Micarelli, the only regular cast member who came to the show with no acting experience, truly grew in her acting prowess over the course of these 36 episodes. Her musical abilities always were present. I wonder if she’ll return exclusively to the world of music or she’ll continue to pursue acting work. I hope she does.) Nelson returns to the Big Easy to check on his remaining investments there and to see if any opportunities remain that might help him rebuild his losses. He checks in with banker and business partner C.J. Liguori (Dan Ziskie) to see if he took a hit, but Liguori admits that most New Orleans businessmen always act more conservatively. In fact, he appears to be channeling the late, Creighton Bernette (John Goodman), despite the vast differences in Toni's late husband and C.J.'s political leanings, when he responds, "Hold the Corps accountable. Down here in New Orleans, we've lost our naiveté. We're several years past believing anything but spit, chewing gum and dumb luck keeps anyone high and dry." Liguori tells Hidalgo to relax and reminds him that most Mid-City properties should turn over soon and he holds pieces of that and that he wouldn't bet against the jazz center, the plans for which sit on Mayor Ray Nagin's desk. C.J. suggests Nelson get a good meal and a few drinks, but Hidalgo asks if there is anything immediate he could do for Liguori. C.J. informs him of a community meeting in the Treme about the jazz center that he could monitor for them since he'd be less likely to be recognized.

Colson arrives at a crime scene where a man lies shot dead in his front yard. He summons one of his detectives, Cappell (Dexter Tillis), to discern what they know. He isn’t happy to learn that neither the young detective nor the silent Detective Silby (JD Evermore), seen at a distance, have bothered to canvass the neighborhood for potential witnesses. Terry notices a surveillance camera above the street. Cappell tells him that it’s unlikely the camera even works. Colson orders Cappell to start knocking on doors while he checks in on any possible security footage. When Colson gets to the office that monitors the cameras, the officer on duty watching them (Carl Palmer) confirms that the camera in question no longer works, as is the case with most of the surveillance equipment in the 6th District. “Why am I not surprised?” Terry sighs. The officer suggests that even though the cameras don’t work, they still serve as a deterrent, adding that even if all the security cameras worked, understaffing would prevent monitoring all of them. Colson asks how many continued to function. The officer guessed that in the 6th District, perhaps 10 to 12. “Out of how many?” Terry inquires. The officer gives him the total of 38. He suggests that Colson talk to the head of IT in Nagin’s office, if he wants to make any progress, but he thanks him for dropping by. He doesn’t get many visitors apparently.

Albert works as part of the team rebuilding GiGi’s for LaDonna. She also allows the Guardians of the Flame to practice there, which they do when the rest of the tribe arrives. LaDonna asks Big Chief Lambreaux how late they plan to rehearse, hinting that she’s thinking of other activities, though both she and Delmond watch the Indians go through their paces. Antoine arrives home and tells Desiree about Robert’s STD and Cherise’s boyfriend. Batiste admits that he didn’t sign up to be a father figure when he took the job. Sonny stopped for a quick drink at B.J.’s but when he has to take a leak, he finds the bar’s bathroom out of order. He steps outside to relieve himself but gets promptly greeted by the flashing lights of a patrol car. Sonny insists he consumed a single drink, but that doesn’t concern NOPD Capt. Jack Malatesta (Tony Senzamici). “Son, you can flash your titties if you have ‘em. You can lie down in the street in your own vomit, but one thing you cannot do in the City of New Orleans is pull out your pecker and piss on our hallowed ground,” the officer declares as he shuts the patrol car’s door on Sonny. (One of the great pleasures of Treme always has been its dialogue, especially when it allowed itself longer speeches. I don’t know if David Simon, Eric Overmyer or George Pelecanos gets the credit for that line, but I love it.) Shortly after his arrival in lockup. another man (Garrett Kruithof) get shoved in the holding cell, promptly collapsing, asking for help or a doctor and telling Sonny that he needs his inhaler for his asthma. Sonny calls a deputy for help, saying the man needs a doctor. The law enforcement official asks Sonny if he is a doctor, which Sonny obviously replies in the negative. “Then what the fuck do you know about it?” he spits before walking away, leaving the man writhing on the cell floor.

Nelson visits Desautel’s on the Avenue, disappointed that his favorite dishes prove M.I.A. Tim Feeny stops by and glad-hands him and Hidalgo pretends he’s enjoying the pork loin he’s consuming. He asks Feeny if “chef” might be available for a brief chat and Feeny says “he” is. Nelson inquires about Janette, but Feeny just mentions the new chef being a great hire from Atlanta. When Feeny asks the woman serving behind the bar about how long Janette has been absent and she tells him about two months. Nelson pushes the rest of his meal aside and finishes his drink. Colson goes to Deputy Chief of Operations Marsden (Terence Rosemore) and demands a transfer, which Marsden refuses. Terry’s anger grows and he tells Marsden that he’s documented all the attempts to screw him over and jack him up, but he’s not going to quit. Marsden suggests that Colson take his pension and retire. He also reminds him that for all the years Colson served in the 6th District, he can’t quite call himself a virgin.

When Toni gets Sonny out of jail the next morning, she senses something happened. Sonny tells him that nothing to him but shares the tale of the neglected asthmatic. He tells her EMTs eventually showed up after he wasn’t breathing and was blue and tried to revive him, but they were too late — the man was dead. Davis brings a box bearing gifts of liquor to Janette for that night’s opening. “How many times will I get to see you open a new place in my lifetime — six, seven tops,” McAlary proclaims. Janette welcomes the present. She can’t obtain credit from any liquor distributors to make running a full bar possible. She offers Davis a free opening night meal, but McAlary opts for a rain check citing his interest in the community meeting concerning closing the live clubs on Rampart in order to make way for the jazz center followed by Trombone Shorty’s big show at the Howlin’ Wolf. Toni makes a date to talk with sheriff’s department Capt. Richard LaFouchette (James DuMont) to learn more about the man, whose name she learned was William Gilday, who died in his department’s cell. LaFouchette shares the list of in-custody deaths, but Gilday’s name doesn’t appear. Toni asks what the hell is going on over there. “It’s jail, Toni. Shit happens,” LaFouchette responds. (It’s always easier to play a villain, but Melissa Leo amazes with her ability to play such a force of good as Toni as spectacularly as Leo throughout the run of Treme. Of course, as with the rest of the talented cast and show itself, she received no Emmy recognition just as she failed ever to be nominated for her great work on Homicide: Life on the Street. Perhaps that Oscar win for The Fighter and her recent Emmy win for her great guest spot on the hysterical Louie takes the sting out, despite entertainment awards being honors and pointless simultaneously. Speaking of Louie, while Dan Ziskie always displays a dry wit as C.J. Liguori, since I started watching Louie late I can’t help but picture C.J. as the Southern lawman who requests Louis C.K. reward him with a kiss on the lips for saving him from some thugs.)


Not all characters know each other in the Treme universe, but eventually some do cross paths. In the final season’s premiere, Nelson Hidalgo meets Davis McAlary at the community meeting concerning the idea of shutting down the live clubs on Rampart to make way for the jazz center. After Nelson makes a few comments, Davis realizes that Hidalgo plays for “the other team.” McAlary determines that Hidalgo needs re-education that only D.J. Davis can provide. He takes the Texas businessman into the crowd outside the Howlin’ Wolf awaiting Shorty’s show, where he introduces him to Antoine as “a corporate succubus who has set up shop in our quaint little village with the intent of harnessing its essence for fun and profit.” Davis attempts to begin his work on Nelson by offering him a joint, but Hidalgo declines and instead offers to get drinks for Antoine and Davis, who kindly oblige. “Why’d you go and call that man a suck-your butt?” Antoine asks McAlary. “He seemed alright to me.” (As I said earlier, Pierce’s Antoine always has served as the heart and soul of the series, but it’s great to see him and Zahn in comic routines with each other or anyone else. It’s not exactly true to the spirit of the definition, but Antoine and Davis function in a way as the yin and the yang of Treme, except neither truly exudes pure darkness or negativity.)

After a gig with Ellis Marsalis, Delmond’s agent James Woodrow (Jim True-Frost) inquires about Albert’s health. Del informs him that the Big Chief’s cancer has gone into remission, so Woodrow asks if Del plans to return to New York anytime soon. Del expresses hesitancy, since Albert needs to remain cancer free for three years. Woodrow balks at the idea of that long an absence, but asks if he’s free to travel to NYC for a few days. Terence Blanchard wants to use him on a recording. When Del gets home, he greets his girlfriend Brandi (Brandi Coleman), who presses Del as to when he plans to tell Albert about his impending grandchild. Delmond admits to being superstitious — “circle of life and all that,” Del says.

Antoine greets Troy Andrews aka Trombone Shorty backstage following his final set with Orleans Ave. Andrews asks Batiste how he’s been and Antoine replies, “Fine until after this last set.” Shorty interprets this as Antoine disliking the direction in which Andrews’ music is heading, but Batiste clarifies. Andrews’ new music makes him uncertain where Antoine Batiste is going and considering whether he should pawn his bone right now since he’ll never catch up. Shorty tells Antoine he might have some upcoming gigs he could toss his way, including one on an upcoming film set to film in New Orleans about old-time jazz pioneers. In the club itself, Davis shows Nelson photos on the wall of when Trombone Shorty was a child prodigy. Hidalgo admits to wondering about the name, but misses the larger point of McAlary’s visual illustration. “He is who he is because he comes from where he comes from, not some conservatory of music or performing arts center. He comes from the streets, the second lines, from the funerals and later those shithole three sets-a-night clubs. Music lives where it lives. You can’t fuck with that. You don’t want to fuck with that,” McAlary imparts to Nelson. (Another great piece of dialogue.) As hinted in the last episode of Season 3 when Albert and LaDonna went AWOL during the fund-raiser for GiGi’s, the two definitely became involved and the relationship proves to be the catalyst behind Larry and LaDonna’s impending divorce. LaDonna starts to put on her coat, ready to return to the Residence Inn, but Lambreaux urges her to stay since Davina took a trip out of town for a few days, so LaDonna accepts. She asks Albert if he’s tired, but Lambreaux admits to only being tired of people inquiring if he’s tired or how he’s doing. (Khandi Alexander and Clarke Peters prove to be such a great pairing that it’s a shame it didn’t occur earlier. Alexander plays every range of emotion well, but few do fiery and pissed off as well as she does. In contrast, Peters says so much simply with his face. Albert raises his voice from time to time, but it’s his stoic stubbornness that makes the character so fascinating.) Janette bids Jacques good night and she prepares to lock up Desautel’s on the Dauphine. She has managed to keep Jacques as a faithful sous chef, despite Eric Ripert’s advice, but you see the sadness in her eyes as Jacques climbs into a woman’s convertible and gives her a big kiss before they drive away. Janette pours herself a drink and sadly imbibes alone, reminiscent of her early days in New York. (Kim Dickens stands as another in this series’ ridiculously talented ensemble who conveys so much without saying a word. The humor and pathos she’s milked so brilliantly from this chef’s journey truly stands as a remarkable achievement.)

BLOGGER'S NOTE: Full recaps of the remaining four episodes seem unlikely, so I'm aiming for an overall appreciation to run after the finale.


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Saturday, November 30, 2013

 

Harder to survive on the margins

BLOGGER'S NOTE: This preview of the fourth and final season of Treme contains mild spoilers for the last five episodes, but nothing too serious. If you fear knowing ANYTHING ahead of time, move along. Also, health problems and other interruptions have put timely recaps in jeopardy. At least part of the first episode will be up in time Sunday, but I can't make promises about timeliness going forward.

By Edward Copeland
The headline that I used for this preview of the truncated fourth and final season of HBO's Treme paraphrases something Marvin Frey (Michael Cerveris), manager of Annie Tee aka Talarico (Lucia Micarelli), says to his client in the Sunday season premiere after she finishes a set with her band. Frey advises Annie that her album has peaked and, if she wishes to continue her ascent to stardom, her act requires big changes. While Frey's statement specifically pertains to Annie, it also applies to the unforgivable final season HBO allowed for this great series created by David Simon and Eric Overmyer. Yes, even in the commercial-free universe of pay cable, where subscribers should matter more than ratings, the various TV ratings systems (which grow more imperfect and outmoded by the day as the methods by which viewers watch TV evolve in ways A.C. Nielsen never could have envisioned) still capture the attention of channels such as HBO and Treme never drew an audience comparable to shows such as The Sopranos, Game of Thrones or even Boardwalk Empire. I suppose I should commend them for sticking with Treme as long as they did, but that doesn't excuse HBO for the scraps that it threw the series' way for a final season. Despite the burdens of a season half the size of a traditional one (and they received an 11-episode order for season 2) and steep cuts to staff and crew, the people remaining at Treme manage to go out well with few signs on the screen of the behind-the-scenes austerity measures imposed upon them in order to complete the story they never intended to run past four seasons. When I first learned of what HBO gave Treme for Season 3.5, my thoughts went to the citizens of New Orleans and the city itself, whose economy benefited from the series' filming there each year. Hasn't that city suffered enough? I digress. Five episodes remain to spend with the great characters we've met over the previous 31 episodes. We'll join the second line after the last episode airs Dec. 29.


As the card shown above from Sunday's premiere indicates, the final season of Treme picks up 38 months after Hurricane Katrina and the federal flood that followed and devastated New Orleans and neighboring regions. More specifically, the day on which season 3.5 chooses to begin happens to be Nov. 4, 2008 — that historic day that saw Barack Obama elected the first African-American president of the United States. While the U.S. started the process of transition from one president to another, we learn of changes to most of the characters in the Treme universe in the premiere, “Yes We Can Can” (written by Simon, Overmyer & George Pelecanos, directed by Anthony Hemingway), in terms of relationships started and ended, both personal and professional. For those forgetting where we left our friends more than a year ago, LaDonna Batiste-Williams (Khandi Alexander) struggled after her bar GiGi’s got torched in a suspicious, presumed revenge fire; Delmond Lambreaux (Rob Brown) found himself more torn than ever between his New York jazz career and his New Orleans roots, especially after his father Albert (Clarke Peters) began treatment for cancer; Janette Desautel (Kim Dickens) continued to butt heads with Tim Feeny (Sam Robards), the moneyman behind her new restaurant, Desautel’s on the Avenue; Sofia Bernette (India Ennenga) headed east for college as her mom Toni (Melissa Leo) continued to fight the good fight and began a relationship with Lt. Terry Colson (David Morse), who attempted to do the same within his police department; Sonny Schilder* (Michiel Huisman) wore down Tran (Lee Nguyen), the father of Linh (Hong Chau), and made her his bride; Nelson Hidalgo (Jon Seda), back in the good graces of C.J. Liguori (Dan Ziskie) and friends after exile for association with Oliver Thomas, worked on various projects, including a New Orleans city jazz center, a project that Del and Albert already decided not to take part in despite a possible lucrative end; Annie’s burgeoning career led to her breakup with Davis McAlary (Steve Zahn), who gave a “final” performance announcing he was quitting the music industry; and Antoine Batiste (Wendell Pierce) found himself getting into the groove in his job as the assistant band instructor at Theophile Jones Elie Elementary.

My return to recapping Treme episodes comes after sitting out Season 3 (and post-episode summaries/reviews of Boardwalk Empire as well) due to worsening aspects of the physical limitations associated with my primary progressive multiple sclerosis. A major impediment to me continuing the recaps stemmed from the fact that my recaps of both series grew so insanely ambitious with research and links supplementing the general summary and assessment of each individual episode. In fact, I got so detailed when referring to neighborhoods and sections of New Orleans that some readers assumed that I either hailed from there or had lived in the city for a sizable portion of my life when I never got the chance to visit the Crescent City back when I was mobile. Thankfully, no one thought I was old enough that I acquired my knowledge of 1920s Atlantic City from first-hand experience. My recaps for the final five episodes of Treme won't approach the detail or ambition of my season 2 efforts. (Look at my recap of Treme's season two episode "Carnival Time" or my recap of Boardwalk Empire's season 2 episode "To the Lost" to see how overboard I went.) I regret not being able to recap season 3 of Treme because I felt it turned out to be its best season, especially following season two, which contained individual episodes that proved great and contained truly memorable moments, but had too many episodes undermined by an editing style that seemed geared for children with ADD. In season three, the series largely corrected its flow problems and managed even to find use for some of its characters who had been annoying and pointless such as Sonny. It also introduced a new character in young enterprising reporter L.P. Everett (Chris Coy), a writer for ProPublica, who arrived in New Orleans to investigate the possible murder of a man by police following Hurricane Katrina. Everett's work brought him into contact with a natural ally in Toni and paralleled the internal frustration of Terry trying to delve into the culture of cover-up and corruption throughout the city's police department. While the entire ensemble managed to get their moments in season three, in my eyes, the season really belonged to Morse's stellar work as Colson. As a point of personal pride, when in season two Janette toured the kitchens of various New York restaurants, she began at the marvelous fictional creation Brulard’s, named for its owner and chef Enrico Brulard (a magnificent invention of a character by actor Victor Slezak — I still dream of spin-off where Brulard and Dr. John decide to open a restaurant and club together). Janette bonded best in Brulard's kitchen with actor Paul Fitzgerald's character, who never received a name, referred in credit lists simply by job title as Le poissonnier. In my recap of one of season two's best episodes, "Santa Claus, Do You Ever Get the Blues?" (written by Lolis Eric Elie, directed by Alex Zakrzewski), I decided to christen Fitzgerald's character as Paul. To my delight, when he turned up in New Orleans at Janette's new restaurant, he had a name and it happened to be Paul. I'd love to think I had a hand in that, but I'm not deluded enough to assume such a thing. It pleased me nonetheless and I wish I'd been able to note it when it occurred.

What makes this final stretch of Treme particularly interesting are how some episodes seem to have an overlying theme in a way that previous installments didn't. While episodes might revolve around a common event or day such as Mardi Gras or Thanksgiving, a couple of these final five delve specifically, though subtly, into overarching topics. As I referred to earlier, few signs on-screen indicate the steep cuts made for the final season. You spot them when some regulars' names only appear in episodes in which they appear and in the relative absence of bigger names such as Elizabeth Ashley's wonderful Aunt Mimi, who appears but once and briefly.

Whenever I try to describe Treme to nonviewers, a pat description defies me. No television antecedent that's not really dependent on plot springs to mind as a comparison. Treme proves to be neither about the journey nor the destination while telling its tale of a community and its culture in the aftermath of a disaster, but, in the end, Katrina really isn't its point either. Miraculously, Treme works and, this late in the game, I finally realized the closest comparison to its type of storytelling. It came not from television, but a movie: Robert Altman's Nashville. It also focused on a musical community with a large cast of characters, some of whom met, some who didn't, and didn't contain what anyone could call a conventional plot, yet it's one of Altman's masterpieces. Of course, Nashville comes to a climax of sorts and covers a very specific period of time. That thought prompted memories of another essentially plotless, though quite different, great film that by coincidence took place in our bicentennial year: Richard Linklater's Dazed and Confused, only it contained no big finish. As for television, I still can't think of a Treme antecedent and that's probably a good thing. I expect someone to correct me in comments and come up with a similar TV example and I'll be suitably red-faced for that series not occurring to me, but until then I welcome that in my mind Treme stands as one-of-a-kind.

Treme premieres on Sunday night on HBO at 9 p.m. Eastern/8 p.m. Central.

*As far as I recall, Sonny's last name never was mentioned or seen on the show itself, but a book solved that mystery. Treme: Stories and Recipes from the Heart of New Orleans by Lolis Eric Elie, former story editor for the series, presents recipes belonging to various characters from Treme and it reveals Sonny's last name as Schilder when providing his dishes.



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Wednesday, October 16, 2013

 

Bouncing to a TV near you (plus a personal announcement)

By Edward Copeland
At 11 tonight Eastern time on a network I didn't realize even existed, let alone that I had until recently, a new series debuts (BLOGGER'S NOTE: Like Rick Blaine in Casablanca, I was misinformed. In this case, not about the waters, but that tonight's episode is the premiere. When I first learned about the series through an interview on MSNBC's The Cycle, Toure indicated the show's debut hadn't happened yet. I immediately did an AT&T U-Verse search and it didn't show an episode airing until tonight and gave no episode number. Because I wanted to switch the time I recorded it, I changed the settings just now and discovered that tonight's episode happens to be the third. A check of the the fuse website shows its premiere took place Oct. 3, which I'm fairly certain preceded the MSNBC interview.) that should be of interest to any fan of New Orleans' plethora of contributions to musical styles as well as fans of David Simon and Eric Overmyer's Treme, soon to end its too short run on HBO with an abbreviated five-episode fourth season that premieres Dec. 1. Big Freedia: Queen of Bounce airs at 11 p.m. Eastern/10 p.m. Central on Wednesdays tonight on fuse. This new show's connection to Treme and an announcement by myself concerning the HBO drama comes after the jump.


Jazz hardly stands as the sole musical genre born in the Crescent City, but as Treme's Davis McAlary (Steve Zahn) declared once, New Orleans' music scene tastes and has a recipe much like its gumbo: Lots of ingredients end up in the mix. One of the newer forms to spring forth from its club scene (and a particular favorite of Davis) goes by the name of bounce. Big Freedia: Queen of Bounce (which I haven't seen) promises to take viewers deeper into the culture and origins of that sound with one of its giants, Big Freedia, as our guide. The specific connection to Treme stems from Big Freedia's appearances in two of the second season's best episodes — "Everything I Do Gohn Be Funky" (written by Simon, directed by Tim Robbins) and "Santa Claus, Do You Ever Get the Blues?" (story by Overmyer and Lolis Eric Elie, written by Elie, directed by Alex Zakrzewski). Big Freedia took part in the constant attempts by Davis to enter the music industry, in this case by trying to recruit local artists to contribute tracks for a compilation CD so Davis can showcase his own work. Big Freedia got to take part in the priceless scene where Davis reluctantly takes his delightful Aunt Mimi (Elizabeth Ashley — even more priceless and delightful herself) to a club because she insists on seeing this bounce music for herself before agreeing to help finance her nephew's plan.

Speaking of Treme, my announcement. Provided that my fingers and hands hold up, I'm planning to recap the final episodes of Treme. Don't expect them to be as detailed as they were for season 2, but I'm going to try. I feel I owe it to the show, especially since my health problems prevented me from recapping season three, which turned out to be the series' best season. Keep your fingers crossed for me and hopefully my Treme recaps shall return for five more times in December.



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Sunday, June 19, 2011

 

Treme No. 19: What Is New Orleans?

BLOGGER'S NOTE: This recap contains spoilers, so if you haven't seen the episode yet, move along.


By Edward Copeland
OK. You all read that note about spoilers, right? I mean it, because this lead is going to give a big hint about something that happened tonight (that's why I picked as generic art as possible). Wallace. Frank Sobotka. Stringer Bell. Sherrod. Snoop. Creighton Bernette. What do these characters — five from The Wire and John Goodman's character from the first season of Treme — have in common? All of these characters were killed off and none peacefully: Four murders, a suicide and an overdose of tainted drugs meant for someone else. More importantly, the episode in which viewers said goodbye to each of these characters on series co-created by David Simon had teleplays written by George Pelecanos. Am I giving too much away by telling you that "What Is New Orleans?" was written by Pelecanos from a story by him and Simon? I think you know what that means. We're gonna be short a character come next week's episode. On the plus side, with Simon contributing to the story and Pelecanos writing the teleplay, we can be reasonably assured that this episode will have some of the series' sharpest writing.


Before I dive into the recap, I feel I owe the makers of Treme an apology. I had a revelation as I watched more musical performances interrupted. It doesn't change my criticism of the awkwardness of the cuts to short scenes or those type of scenes in nonmusical contexts, but I suddenly remembered the audience participation gag from The Rocky Horror Picture Show when Frank starts to lead his guests in singing "Happy Birthday" to Rocky but stops before the song is finished and the audience shouts, "Don't sing the whole thing Janet or we'll have to pay royalties." With as much music as Treme has, it's probably cost prohibitive to sing a song in its entirety and they have to just play part of it at a reduced rate in order not to be held up by the ridiculous demands the music industry makes. That's why the DVD releases of so many shows never happen, end up being "best of" collections or are really expensive because, even though the music industry has been paid originally, they just keep coming back for more like Paul Sorvino's character in Goodfellas when he takes over The Bamboo Lounge "as a favor." Had a bad week? Fuck you. Pay me. No one else involved in the production of movies or TV shows ties up their future release like that. You don't see actors, writers or directors coming back again and again demanding more for the work they've done and preventing the release of the original version of the work (unless they were married to Fred Astaire and will sue if someone tries try to show clips of his films without paying her off, though she will sell his image to pimp vacuum cleaners). It's probably why it took so long to get the complete set of The Larry Sanders Show released on DVD. I've found some very interesting reading if you are so inclined:
  • ASCAP & BMI: Protectors of artists or shadowy thieves?
  • ASCAP & BMI general info (Treme fans, marching bands and street musicians such as Harley and Annie are expected to cough up dough to them.)
  • Basic music licensing hoops
  • Finally, an article that discusses reduced fees depending how much of a composition is played.


  • Rant over. Back to tonight's episode.

    Davis returns to the booth of his former employer, only as a guest of DJ Jeffy Jeff and accompanied by Lil Calliope, to promote "The Road Home" and DJ Davis and the Brassy Knoll. Davis announces the name of his new record label: 58 Mercury Monterey Records (named after that car that Aunt Mimi used to make such good time in from LSU to the French Quarter). "We are taking this whole New Orleans brass-funk-bounce thing to a place it's never been before," Davis proclaims and DJ Jeffy Jeff asks where that might be. "Musical insurrection. DJ Davis and the Brassy Knoll exist as political dissent and we will not rest until the entire Who Dat nation is exactly that because you know what Katrina made clear? I'm no longer from the United States of America," McAlary declares. Much to Davis' surprise (and chagrin), Calliope hands Jeff a CD. Jeff asks if it's another heavy political statement, but Calliope says it's more of a headbanger. Jeff says if they have time, they'll get to it and starts playing "The Road Home," whose sound brings Davis' former boss Darnell bursting into the booth. "What's he doing here?" Darnell demands to know. "I'm the talent," Davis smiles.

    In Baton Rouge, Larry's practicing tough love with LaDonna. "Imagine that," he says. "Get dressed proper in the morning. Strap on your shoes. Off to work. Like most folks." She doesn't say a word. "I'm tellin' you — it's damn near time you start puttin' yourself back together. Sittin' up at night with a bottle does nothin' but kill your next day. Your sons need to see you wide awake and fresh when they get up in the mornin'," Larry tells the still-silent LaDonna. "Now you know how I feel about that goddamn bar, especially after what happened. I hate that fuckin' place, but I hate you on this sofa even more." LaDonna shuts off the TV. "So what you askin'?" Larry's voice has been steadily rising, but it's a full shout now. "I'm tellin'. Either you reopen that bar and you go back to work or we sell that fuckin' thing and you bring your ass back up here and be a part of this family like you should. One or the other but either way I need you up off your ass!" After spending the majority of two seasons almost as an extra, it's really good to see Lance E. Nichols get material that shows what he can do, even if both he and Khandi Alexander were somewhat denied last week what should have been their most pivotal moments of the season. In their first scene of tonight's episode, the behind-the-scenes team at Treme certainly make some amends. LaDonna tells Larry that she has to meet with ADA Baron the day after tomorrow so she'll reopen GiGi's then. "Where the hell you supposed to stay?" he asks. "We close on your mama's house in two weeks. We can't move new furniture back in there." LaDonna suggests above the bar, but Larry vetoes that. "Then I'll get a hotel room — downtown — on Canal Street. Alright?" she says as she walks away.

    Toni and Sofia meet with Bob Arnold (Bernard Hocke), the lawyer that Toni hired to represent Sofia on her pending charges. Arnold tells them the good news that they'll be more interested in the kid with the heroin than with Sofia and that the prosecutor they've drawn tends to be reasonable. "If we do everything we're supposed to do, they'll most likely allow us to plead and get probation," Arnold says. "Once you complete your probation, they'll most likely go back and clear your record." Toni asks how soon they'll be in court and Arnold informs her that for juveniles, it's 90 days from date of offense. "It will also give you time to get the blue streaks out of your hair," he tells Sofia. Arnold also wants her to get a paid afterschool job in addition to her internship with Oliver Thomas. "We need to convey the impression that you're a reasonably responsible person who made a mistake that's totally out of character," the lawyer explains. He also tells Sofia he's going to want her to take drug tests and have weekly meetings with a child psychologist. "I'm not mental," Sofia insists. "That's good to know but we still need an expert to say so to the judge," Arnold tells her. Sofia sighs "Fuck" prompting Arnold to ask Toni to leave them alone for a few minutes. Toni doesn't want to, but she complies. "You are about to go to court in Jefferson Parish, not Orleans," he tells Sofia. "You piss someone off, it guarantees you won't be going home to sleep in your own bed. So you're gonna do whatever I say to do when I say it. Understood?" Sofia nods.

    An Irish singer is busking with Harley as Annie drops by to listen. The visitor pulls out a tin whistle and begins playing it. Harley introduces him as Slim Jim Lynch (Peter "Spider" Stacy), a street entertainer like himself visiting from London for St. Patrick's Day events. Annie tells him you don't see many of those instruments around New Orleans and Slim Jim says that's probably because there isn't much use for a pennywhistle in a Fats Domino song. Annie asks Harley if he's interested in accompanying her on some street playing — she needs pocket money — but Harley promised to show Jim around during the day and tells Annie he'll meet up with her after dark. By the way, though Lynch sounds Irish, Stacy is an Englishman. In fact, he was one of the founding members of The Pogues and is rumored to be an inspiration for the character Vyvyan on the British comedy The Young Ones.

    Colson gets greeted by Capt. John Guidry who just wanted to let Terry know that Deputy Chief Marsden fired one officer and transferred one of his lieutenants. "Good fuckin' job, Terry," Guidry says. "You blamin' me?" Colson responds. Guidry continues to whine about Colson having gone to Marsden, but Colson reminds Guidry that they fucked up the Helen Hill investigation, not him. As he's leaving, Guidry asks Colson if he's been reading the Times-Picayune recently about drug use at Lusher and how one kid OD'd. "I hear the daughter of your lawyer friend caught bracelets," Guidry informs him. "My lawyer friend?" "The one with the red hair. Kid got popped for H. Fuckin' tragedy," Guidry says unconvincingly. "You guys are right for each other. That's another one that likes to get involved in everybody else's business. Pretend their own shit smells like roses." As Colson makes sure Guidry gets out, another cop gives him a message that Marsden wants to see him.

    The band class at Elie Elementary seems to be coming along and if both the students and my ears were in tune and on the same wavelength, I believe they were practicing "Fever," which was a huge hit for Peggy Lee but originally was recorded by the mostly forgotten '50s R&B singer Little Willie John. The song was written by Eddie Cooley and Otis Blackwell (who penned it under the alias John Davenport). LeCouer stops the class and tells them they weren't bad. "Sounded good to me," Denard says. "Actually Denard, you were a half-measure behind," the band director tells him, making Antoine and the rest of the class laugh. Denard argues that he was improvising. LeCouer explains that marching bands are about being in lockstep with the other players. Robert speaks up, telling LeCouer and Antoine that he wants "to be in one of those bands where you can play free." That catches Batiste's attention. "What? Y'all ain't even up on two feet yet." LeCouer informs the class that all the best jazz musicians came out of school bands — that's how you learn. One of the students asks Antoine where he plays now, and Batiste mentions his own band and an upcoming gig. Robert wants to watch, but Antoine says where he plays is for adults.

    Colson enters Deputy Chief Marsden's office, not knowing what to expect. He's certainly not prepared for what Marsden tells him: Effective immediately, Terry is being transferred to homicide. The deputy chief says that his criticism of the handling of the Helen Hill murder was on point. "So once there in an official capacity, you can work on things you think are deficient in the unit." Terry asks what he fears he knows the answer to. "Is Captain Guidry going to remain in charge of homicide?" Marsden confirms that he is. This confuses me a bit. In this episode, Guidry was wearing a suit, as those of us familiar with homicide departments only through TV expect, but in previous appearances, Guidry always was in uniform and referred to as 6th District captain. On the episode with the Hill murder, Colson actually spoke with a different homicide detective at the scene. When Guidry first chewed out Colson for going to Marsden, he asked why he was butting in when he wasn't in the 6th District or homicide. "As you can imagine, John Guidry is not entirely enamored of me at this moment," Terry tells Marsden. "I spoke to the captain. He knows that you'll be working together," Marsden says. "Look lieutenant, the department's got problems everywhere, but homicide is where we are truly and deeply fucked. One conviction — one — out of 162 murders last year. Here's your chance to do better. Do the job. You'll be fine."

    "So, what do you think Darren?" Antoine asks LeCoeur after the students have departed. "How do you know, as a teacher, which kids will stand out?" Darren replies, "I'm not here to teach one kid. This is about all of them. This is more than music, Antoine." Before the image of this short scene disappears, we can tell where we are going next because though the visual is of Wendell Pierce standing silently, deep in thought in the classroom, we can already hear Clarke Peters as Albert doing some of his tribal calls.

    It's a nice touch. I don't know if it came from this week's director Adam Davidson, whose resume includes directing a lot of episodic television and winning the 1990 Oscar for best live action short for The Lunch Date. This episode still has those short scenes that bother me when they aren't balanced with longer ones, but it does show how certain writers produce sharper ones even with limited time. Even though George Pelecanos is inevitably a harbinger of death, he is one as is, of course, David Simon. Lolis Eric Elie and Eric Overmyer have shown their abilities as well. Other times, it falls on the shoulders of the director to try keep the pace flowing past a glut of clunky short ones, but Treme works best when it finds a great union of the two as it does here with Davidson directing Pelecanos' teleplay or Brad Anderson directing the Simon/Overmyer script on "Carnival Time," Alex Zakrzewski directing Elie's teleplay on "Santa Claus, Do You Ever Get the Blues?" or Tim Robbins directing Simon's script for "Everything I Do Gohn Be Funky."

    As the sounds foretold, Albert's in a studio doing his calls into a microphone, a headset on and shaking a tambourine. "I'm big chief of Guardians of the Flames," he chants before striking the tambourine above his head. As he continues, the musicians begin to join in: Delmond, Donald Harrison Jr., Dr. John, Ron Carter and Carl Allen. You can tell by the look on Albert's face that something is bothering him. He keeps glancing some at Allen on drums but mostly at Carter on bass. Del notices that something's amiss and waves them to shut off the recording. "What the hell?" Del asks in his father's general direction. Harrison complains that it was sounding good. Delmond asks Albert if he's OK or needs water or something. "I don't need no damn water," Albert says. "Ron, you hearin' me?" Albert asks the legendary bass player. "Are you hearing me or you don't want to hear it?" Carter asks back. Expressing that patented Albert Lambreaux indignation, he replies, "I want to feel that rhythm section" before he gets off his stool and stomps over to Carter and starts playing his bass. Del steps in. "Daddy, are you trying to show Ron Carter who has been on about a thousand jazz recordings how to play the bass?" Albert is not deterred. "I'm tryin' to teach him some Indian, son." Carter tells Albert that he thinks he's got that. Dr. John sits at his piano very amused. (PERSONAL NOTE TO DAVID SIMON, ERIC OVERMYER, ET AL: Please make Dr. John a regular in season three. I won't complain about those miniscenes anymore if you do.) "Trying to show Ron Carter something on the bass is like trying to show a whore how to turn a trick — it's an impossible maneuver," Dr. John comments. Albert starts complaining about the sound of the studio. "It don't even smell right," Albert declares. Delmond correctly guesses that he thinks that because it's in New York, but he's reminded by Harrison that they are all musicians and their notes will sound great wherever they are.

    As Antoine hands out payment to his band members after their gig at Donna's Bar & Grill, he complains that he's "up to his teeth with their bitchin' and moanin'." Seems he had to rent a high-hat for Herman Jackson at the last minute and when he showed up at the club, Tim Green was the only member of the horn section who was there and didn't have other gigs. Antoine gets on his "straw boss" Thaddeus because he's "supposed to be ridin' herd on these motherfuckers." Batiste is especially pissed, he tells them, because it's coming just as they are coming into a better class of gigs. One of those who did show asks, "Like what?" Antoine tells them that they could be playing The Blue Nile, which had some holes in their schedule and they can have tomorrow night if they want it. As Antoine prepares to pay Sonny, Cornell makes sure to intervene and take the cash and just give Sonny part of it back. "A lot of us have regular gigs," Wanda says. "You don't think I have other responsibilities? I have a day job in addition to this," Antoine informs them to his band members' surprise. "You're lookin' at the assistant bandleader down at Elie." The other musicians all laugh at him for "leading a bunch of kids."

    Nelson and C.J. go over the purchases in the Mid-City area, which Nelson puts at more than $18 million in real estate purchases passing through that area Liguori marked on that map, not even counting the building Nelson bought. "At two-and-a-half points, that puts me at half-a-million on this caper alone. I'm over two mil since I got off the plane down here," he tells C.J. Liguori admits he's got more investors lined up than there's property available and they're looking beyond Mid-City as well. "Yours isn't the only umbrella I've got people sheltered under," C.J. admits, "but the window is closing. There is an announcement coming — development zones, Mid-City planning. At this point, we shouldn't just be waiting for auctions and real estate sales, we should be going door-to-door picking up everything we can."

    The documentary filmmaker Dana Lyndsey took her work to New York and films Albert and Delmond as they visit The Brooklyn Museum, specifically the West African Treasures section of its Arts of Africa collection. "You'll be amazed when you see it," Dana tells Albert. "The connection is so obvious." Delmond tells his father he knows what he's thinking already. Doing a mocking imitation of Albert's voice, Del says, "We got museums in New Orleans — better museums." Albert shrugs Del off. "Pay my son no mind. He's a little emotional these days." Dana laughs as they enter the exhibition room. Albert spots the piece Dana intended to show him before she can even lead him there, letting out a "Whoa." It's a mask with full head dress full of feathers. Dana explains that the Loma of Liberia used the masks in initiation ceremonies and then only the initiated members could carve a mask. "They say that once a male puts on a mask, he chants all day in spirit," Dana concludes. "Looks familiar, right?" Albert has been inspecting the mask as closely as he can without busting through the glass. "They got that from us," Albert proclaims, stupefying his son. "Look at the way they use them feathers up on that headdress — that's old-time black Indian right there," Albert asserts. "Daddy, we came from Africa, not the other way around. Read the plaque!" Del insists. "I don't have to read the goddamned thing. I got eyes — I can see," his stubborn father says. Delmond reads the plaque out loud anyway, pointing out that it dates back to the late 18th century, 100 years "before Creole Wild West or Yellow Pocahontas even had a great dream about Mardi Gras suits." Albert points part of the mask out to his son. "See them shells? See the way they use them shells? That's my style," Albert proclaims, though his son can't believe he's being serious. "Like you say, I know what I know." As Albert walks away from the display, he gives Dana a wink.

    LaDonna meets with ADA Baron again and though Larry isn't there and no secrets are at risk of being revealed, Baron doesn't have much good news to report. First, it seems that Detective Leroy made a procedural goof when she showed LaDonna the photo sheets to identify her attackers from because instead of putting each one on a different array with five fakes, she handed LaDonna a sheet that had both suspects on it with four others. Baron has made new series of mug shot sheets and LaDonna has to identify her attackers again so there's no question in court. "Besides, that other victim is the one who's pointing them out in court, right?" LaDonna says though by Baron's silence she reiterates. "Ain't that right?" Baron informs LaDonna that there have been "some procedural problems" in the other case. "Procedural problems?" LaDonna asks sharply. "We now feel that perhaps your case is the stronger of the two," the prosecutor tells her. LaDonna demands to know what's going on. "The other victim has declined to testify," Baron says. LaDonna, arms crossed, nods, then asks, "What if I decline too?" Baron lays it out rather clearly: Without LaDonna's testimony, they will have no case.

    Davis and Lil Calliope are driving in Davis' car when Calliope gets a call from a friend telling him that a radio station is playing the song right now. McAlary gets excited, assuming he means "The Road Home," but it's a track of Lil Calliope's CD of his own music. The excited young man leans out the window shouting at passers-by that it's him on the radio while Davis looks quite annoyed.

    Sofia and Oliver Thomas are eating in his office as Sofia shares her legal travails. "It wasn't mine and the guy said it was his, but I got charged with marijuana though," she tells him. "That was yours?" he asks. "Weed? Sure. It should be legal," Sofia declares. "For 16-year-olds?" Oliver poses. Sofia has to give him that. "No, not for 16-year-olds." Thomas says he guesses her mother isn't as nonchalant about this as she is. Sofia then lists her grievances about what the lawyer is making her do. "The price you pay," he tells her. "I know," Sofia says cheerily. "You'll get elected mayor and then you can make marijuana legal. Not legal, but the kind of thing police just write you a ticket for like parking laws." "I can tell you one thing, young lady. That will not be a campaign promise." She suggests that would win him votes, but Thomas asks if she doesn't think there are bigger problems facing the city. "You'll be a good mayor," she tells him. "I've seen you second line."

    We get our first scene with Janette working at The Lucky Peach and David Chang is funny in it, but I'm still tired of this storyline. Later, there's a second scene where a famous chef comes in for a meal and Chang whips up something special specifically for him. Yawn.

    Antoine and His Soul Apostles did show up for that Blue Nile gig, but it appears that no one else did as there's hardly an audience member to be found. Antoine tells his bandmates to relax that it's just because of the short notice — by the second set they'll be packed. Thaddeus throws cold water on that idea, noting that Kermit Ruffins is two doors down at Ray's Boom Boom Room. Antoine smiles and tells the band, "Give me 10 and I'll be back." Carrying his trombone with him, Antoine takes the short walk over to Ray's and stands with the crowd as Ruffins sings what I believe is "What Is New Orleans?"

    Colson is on the phone outside the trailer where he lives. We get a better look this time and see it is situated between two houses. "I've got to get my sons out of here. Drop 'em at a movie or something," he tells the person on the other end. He wonders if they'd like to meet him for a beer. "I could use one," he says. In the background, we get our first glimpse of a Colson son, who could be anywhere from 11 to 14. Hard to say. "The Columns on St. Charles? Right. See ya then," Terry tells the person as he hangs up. "Turn that shit off," he yells at the boys, "we're goin' out."

    Back at Ray's, Ruffins finishes his number as Antoine remains in the crowd. Now, that it dawned on me why they can't play songs in their entirety, this entire sequence that's coming, though still fun, would have been even more so if the Colson scene hadn't awkwardly been placed in the middle of it. Granted, I'm not usually an advocate of more Sonny, but we have and Cornell as well as the other band members two doors down at the Blue Nile twiddling their thumbs waiting on Antoine, so it would have made more logical sense and for better flow to cut to them. The Colson scene could have been placed before the first Blue Nile scene. As this funny sequence goes on, they also cut to a 25-second shot of a nervous LaDonna in her motel room and that could have been saved until after all of this was over. For a great show that revels in smooth jazz, it often cuts itself in the most haphazard out-of-tune ways. From the audience, Antoine sounds his trombone and catches Kermit's attention, who does exactly what Batiste expected him to do — invites him on stage. Antoine starts singing Al Green's "Let's Stay Together" but they can't have him sing the entire song because of the evil motherfuckers who control publishing rights in the music industry, so that's when they have to cut somewhere else and we get the don't-blink-or-you'll-miss-it LaDonna scene, as if there were only 25 seconds left in "Let's Stay Together" to sing. That gives Antoine the chance he's been waiting for though. He tells Kermit's audience to pick up their drinks while Ruffins takes a break and follow him over to The Blue Nile where he and His Soul Apostles are playing. Kermit sees he's been had and is pissed but Antoine marches the crowd to the other club like The Pied Piper. He gets another surprise when he finds Robert at the door wanting to come watch. The bouncer (Raion Y. Hill) doesn't want to let the kid in, but Antoine lies and says Robert is his son. With the crowd pouring in, the Apostles look as if someone just shook them awake and start playing. Antoine dances a little twirl with Wanda, leading her to the microphone where she starts singing Jean Knight's gigantic 1971 hit "Mr. Big Stuff."

    Music industry greed waits for no one so we have to leave Wanda mid-song and land in the middle of another song, this one, the 1934 standard "Stars Fell on Alabama," sung by Ingrid Lucia in The Victorian Lounge of The Commons Hotel. It's where Terry has met the person on the other end of that call for a beer and it is, of course, Toni. "Good pick on the bar," he tells her. "I doubt we'll run in to anyone I work with — or for." Toni asks if that would be a problem if they did. "Well, in my world you are a bit of a pariah," Terry informs her. Toni laughs. "And there's been stationhouse talk," he adds. "About?" she wonders. "That we're friendly," Terry replies. Toni realizes it's not a matter to be taken lightly for him. "You've been catchin' hell, huh?" He tells Toni about going to Marsden about homicide screwing up the Helen Hill investigation. "You know what happens next? I'm transferred to homicide. They give me a shift and they drop me right under the captain that I pissed off," Terry shares. "Why would they do that?" Toni asks. "Either I get the goods on Guidry and they get rid of him or," before Terry can finish the thought Toni does it for him. "Or Guidry finds a way to do you." Terry nods. "Either way the bosses figure the problem takes care of itself." Toni just shakes her head in disbelief. "So much for reform," Terry says. "Is it any wonder no one in this town ever gets up on their hind legs?"

    Wanda is still singing "Mr. Big Stuff" when we return to The Blue Nile, but she's reaching the end and so might be their crowd because Kermit Ruffins has made his way through the door holding his trumpet in the air as Antoine shakes his head no.

    Terry walks Toni to her car outside the Commons Hotel and in a nicely acted and choreographed bit between David Morse and Melissa Leo where few words are said yet everything is understood, Terry tries to broach the subject of taking their relationship beyond friendship. "It's me. Still pretty raw," Toni tells him.

    At The Blue Nile, Kermit about blows Antoine's ear out on stage with his trumpet as Antoine just stands there and takes it. Ruffins tells the crowd that they're ready for the next set at the Boom Boom Room and to follow him. As he hops off the stage, he looks at Antoine and says, "You sure make me smile." As the audience empties out of the club, Cornell goes up to Batiste. "Swell old plan, dude."

    Nelson takes Arnie along on his door-to-door homebuying trip. The first homeowner got insurance money that covered nothing and waited on government aid that never came. In the meantime, his wife died. Nelson gives him his card and tells him whatever they assessed the value at, he'll better it and if he doesn't hear from him, he'll drop back by. The second homeowner isn't interested in selling at any price. "I'm not selling, not ever. Not after what I've been through," he tells Nelson. The third house they go to, no one's home, but it's a roof that Arnie just fixed, so he's sort of put off that he wants to buy it to tear it down. "It should last 10, 15 years," Arnie tells his cousin.

    A depressed Davis tells Annie about Lil Calliope's sudden success with his own track, which he admits is catchy. Annie tries to convince him that the exposure will rub off on Davis' band and Davis tries to sound convincing when he says he's happy for him, but Annie just laughs and McAlary can't keep a straight face either.

    LaDonna pulls her car up in front of GiGi's and John comes to her vehicle to meet her. "Ready to open?" he asks. She doesn't respond, just keeps looking straight ahead. "Miss La-D," John says, trying to get her attention. She turns and tells him, "I gotta go. Sorry" before restarting the engine and driving away.

    As Del and Albert walk Manhattan, the elder Lambreaux continues to have problems with "what he's trying to do" and again criticizes Ron Carter and Carl Allen, suggesting names such as Earl Palmer or Herman Ernest. (While they could have used Palmer or Ernest in 2007, don't expect either to pop up on the show. Palmer died in 2008 and Ernest died in March this year.) He even suggests putting Uganda Roberts on percussion, the same suggestion that Dr. John made last week. Most of all, Albert insists that he can't record in New York and that they have to move the sessions to New Orleans. Del has about all of his father that he can take. "Always the last damn word, huh Daddy? Always the last fuckin' word. Always me. Always want. Always have to have it, huh Daddy?" an angry Delmond says. Albert simply replies, "No" and storms off from his son.

    Toni and Anthony revisit George Cotrell's sister Lynette Beaulieu (Tenaj Jackson) and tell her that George gave them the name of the officer and they just want her to confirm it. "If George told you a name, it's on him," Lynette says. "I don't want police knowing we spoke. Toni pledges that she has their word. "Police aren't gonna do shit anyhow," George's sister declares. "They won't if you don't step up. Can't argue with that," Anthony tells her. The woman says she can't help them — she has to live there — and shuts the door on them again.

    Sonny and Cornell step off Don's boat after another day of oystering when Sonny suggests they go to Chalmette for seafood. "I know why you want to drag my ass up there," Cornell says. "The meal's on me," Sonny promises, "or it will be if you peel some more of those bills off my money roll." Later, when they arrive in Chalmette, Sonny catches sight of Linh immediately. "You don't got a prayer, son," Cornell tells him. "The Vietnamese stick to themselves." She sees him and he smiles and she smiles back. Her father (Lee Nguyen) doesn't look as friendly. Cornell recommends that they grab a beer and get Sonny some "liquid courage."

    Toni returns to the witness she spoke with who was in Robideaux's, taking Anthony with her this time, though he's as reluctant as ever to talk specifics. The witness looks at Anthony's clothes. "Homicide or plainclothes?" assuming he's a cop, but King tells him he's neither and the witness tells Toni that she's smart to bring a bodyguard. Anthony asks him if Billy Wilson was one of the cops who caused the trouble at Robideaux's. They inform the witness that Wilson was seen chasing someone into the Iberville the same day who ended up shot dead by the same type of weapon. Anthony says he understands if the man is intimidated because that's what they count on. "Motherfucker, I ain't afraid, alright. I ain't afraid of no one," the witness shouts. "Yet no one says a damn word," Anthony responds. The witness admits he gave his name and his number. He called 911 and told them he saw a boy get shot and about two weeks later, a detective called him. The detective told him he could take him downtown and make a statement but first he'd need his name and date of birth as well as the name and date of birth of his mother and everyone living in her house and everyone he hangs with. "He says he finds anything on me or any of my people, they all going to jail," the witness admits. "Now you see why a man not remember a damn thing." The witness confirms Wilson and IDs the white cop as Harvey. Toni asks if he remembers the detective's name and he says it was something French. "Prioleau?" Toni asks. The witness repeats, "Prioleau." Later, as Toni and Anthony walk to the car discussing things, they agree that it all goes back to homicide. "You know anybody up there?" Anthony asks. Toni doesn't say anything, she just smiles since she does now.

    Oliver Thomas calls Sofia into his office and for the second time recently, an adult male talks straight to the troubled teen. "Yesterday I let you talk and I didn't say too much about what you told me, but now I'm gonna talk. OK then. Your people didn't raise you to get into cars with kids you knew were the no account kind. Young lady, your mother has it hard right now. Your dad's gone and what she's got left is you —" Sofia interrupts him. "My father fuckin' killed himself — " Thomas breaks in right back, "I can't speak to what your father was thinkin' or feelin' but maybe he was hurtin' like a lot of people around here hurt but what you have to ask is 'Are you gonna add to that hurt?' Is that who you are?"

    Harley, Annie and Slim Jim entertain crowds on a street corner and Jim offers making for a stew in exchange for donation in honor of St. Patrick's Day.

    Davis almost misses the call for The Brassy Knoll's next set because he's enjoying his beer so much, but when he hops on stage, the crowd shouts for Lil Calliope to play the track from his album. Davis is annoyed, but another member of his band tells him you have to give the people what they want and before he knows it, Calliope has started in on his number and Don B. has leaped on stage and stolen Davis' microphone to join in while McAlary looks lost.

    On the TV set above the bar at The Touche Bar, Oliver Thomas is announcing what Liguori predicted: 73 redevelopment teams to start to work across New Orleans. The newscaster adds that the city plans to focus on redeveloping 17 targeted areas across the city. A clip of Mayor Ray Nagin shows him saying he believes the targeted zones will spur investment. The bartender (Jake Moran) laments that he doesn't have any extra cash to buy up property in those areas. Nelson, who is sitting at the end of the bar jotting notes, puts down his drink and says to himself, "You're a little late on that one, son." Once again, they do that nice segue where we hear the sounds of the next scene before we see it, so we recognize a violin and even a pennywhistle.

    Sure enough, we're back on the corner where Harley is finishing up the song "The Galway Girl" (click the link and you'll hear Steve Earle sing the whole thing) while Annie and Slim Jim accompany him on their instruments. A woman in a green shirt leaves a donation and Jim thanks her and the two keep eyeing one another through the end of the song. "Thank you very much," Harley says to the crowd. "We will see you on another street corner, probably right over there tomorrow night. Good night." Jim asks them if they want to go for a beer, but Annie promised Davis she'd catch his late set. The visiting musician asks Harley but he tells him, "I'm gonna walk her back up to St. Claude" as he counts the night's earnings and divides the take. "See you back at the club," Jim says, patting Harley on the back. "Been a pleasure." Slim Jim then heads to the woman in the green shirt to inquire about her name. Annie laughs as she watches the two walk off together.

    Despite his dislike of the location, Albert has returned to the recording studio and they've managed to get through a track without stopping. Delmond flashes a thumbs-up sign to the booth and the man inside gives one back. "That might be a winner right there," Del says. "Does that feel like a take to you or what, Big Chief?" Dr. John asks. "Yeah, if that's what y'all want," Albert says as he walks away.

    In Baton Rouge, Larry and LaDonna sit at the table together. The camera moves slowly past LaDonna and toward her husband. "So we sellin' it?" Larry asks. The camera moves back to LaDonna who silently nod yes. Larry gets up and almost touches her on the shoulder, but thinks twice about it and places his hand on the back of her chair instead. He's standing, so you can't see his face, you only hear his voice. "I'll call the realtor tomorrow. Get it on the market by the end of the week." It's a short scene, but it doesn't need to be any longer to get its point across and it resembles a chamberpiece of beauty in the simplicity of its acting, writing and direction.

    Harley and Annie chat as they walk up the dark street. "The pennywhistle — it's a real instrument in Ireland whether you believe it or not," Harley insists. Annie just laughs as Harley goes on about Slim Jim's music maker as they turn a corner onto another street. A figure leaps out in front of them. "Drop that shit in your hand," the mugger says, pointing a gun on them while a partner appears behind them. Harley and Annie put their instrument cases on the sidewalk. Harley hands over his cash. "Go on, take it," he says. "Damn right I'm gonna take it," the gunman replies as he and his partner start to take off up the street as Harley stands with his arms in the air. "You're making a bad choice, son," Harley tells them. The robbers stop and one starts coming back. "I ain't your motherfuckin' son," he says as he shoots Harley point blank in the head. Annie screams. Yes, the Pellecanos curse has added the name of Harley Watt to his list of victims. Blood has splattered on Annie's arm as she shielded herself and she leans over Harley's body yelling for help.

    Antoine and Sonny stand on a corner outside a club trying to hail a cab as a group of drunken St. Patrick's Day revelers pass by singing "I'm Walkin'." Sonny comments, "That's New Orleans." Several police cars, sirens wailing, come speeding by. "That's New Orleans too," Antoine says.


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