DVD BLURAY & TV
CARMINE STREET GUITARS
MODERN FILMS
7/10
Dropping in on a West Village landmark. By Alastair McKay
IN a film where understatement is everything, it wouldn’t do to make grand claims. Ron Mann’s documentary is meditative rather than sensational. It is a quietly observational account of five days in the life of a guitar shop in New York’s West Village. The owner, Rick Kelly, is a gentle, reticent man, who seems happier working with wood than talking about it. When musicians drop in, he lets them chat and play awhile. He is patient, welcoming and pleased to see his instruments in capable hands. The days go by, the shop stays open. Kelly’s elderly mother, who does the books, dusts the guitars, and fails to straighten the framed photo of Robert Quine, gets to make the Keith Richards joke about being pleased to be here, pleased to be anywhere.
What’s remarkable about that? The film offers a few hints, though nothing is spelled out. Among the visitors to the shop is a realtor, who has been selling the building next door for $6m.
