The Creationists

Creating Carmine Street Guitars with Ron Mann

December 23, 2020 Steve Waxman Episode 18
The Creationists
Creating Carmine Street Guitars with Ron Mann
Chapters
The Creationists
Creating Carmine Street Guitars with Ron Mann
Dec 23, 2020 Episode 18
Steve Waxman

Over the past 40 years, Ron Mann has produced and directed a dozen films focused on Canadian and American culture. His wide ranging subjects include comic books, jazz, beat poets, the war on marijuana, environmental activism and film director Robert Altman.  In 2018 he turned the camera lens on Carmine Street Guitars, Rick Kelly’s cramped music shop  in Greenwich Village. The result is a critically acclaimed film that documents a week in the life of the store and the characters that walk in and out the front door including long time customers and some brand new strangers. 

Rick Kelly has been building and selling guitars out of his current location on Carmine Street since 1990.  What makes Rick and Carmine Street Guitars so compelling is Rick’s search throughout New York City for reclaimed wood from the Big Apple’s historical buildings which he then turns into custom instruments. The film doesn’t smash you over the head with a lot of action but is, instead, sort of like a sweet lullaby.  As a film buff I was curious as to how Ron approaches the task of making a documentary and as a guitar nerd I wanted to ask him about how he came to discover Carmine Street Guitars. 

In addition to directing films through his own Sphinx Productions, Ron Mann also puts the focus on otherwise ignored work though his distribution company Films We Like. You can check out all of their titles, including Carmine Street Guitars by logging in to filmswelike.com.

Read the full interview at imstevewaxman.com

Please follow The Creationists podcast on Facebook and Instagram

The Creationists is mastered in post production by Paul Farrant.

Show Notes Transcript

Over the past 40 years, Ron Mann has produced and directed a dozen films focused on Canadian and American culture. His wide ranging subjects include comic books, jazz, beat poets, the war on marijuana, environmental activism and film director Robert Altman.  In 2018 he turned the camera lens on Carmine Street Guitars, Rick Kelly’s cramped music shop  in Greenwich Village. The result is a critically acclaimed film that documents a week in the life of the store and the characters that walk in and out the front door including long time customers and some brand new strangers. 

Rick Kelly has been building and selling guitars out of his current location on Carmine Street since 1990.  What makes Rick and Carmine Street Guitars so compelling is Rick’s search throughout New York City for reclaimed wood from the Big Apple’s historical buildings which he then turns into custom instruments. The film doesn’t smash you over the head with a lot of action but is, instead, sort of like a sweet lullaby.  As a film buff I was curious as to how Ron approaches the task of making a documentary and as a guitar nerd I wanted to ask him about how he came to discover Carmine Street Guitars. 

In addition to directing films through his own Sphinx Productions, Ron Mann also puts the focus on otherwise ignored work though his distribution company Films We Like. You can check out all of their titles, including Carmine Street Guitars by logging in to filmswelike.com.

Read the full interview at imstevewaxman.com

Please follow The Creationists podcast on Facebook and Instagram

The Creationists is mastered in post production by Paul Farrant.

Over the past 40 years, Ron Mann has produced and directed a dozen films focused on Canadian and American culture. His wide ranging subjects include comic books, jazz, beat poets, the war on marijuana, environmental activism and film director Robert Altman.  In 2018 he turned the camera lens on Carmine Street Guitars, Rick Kelly’s cramped music shop  in Greenwich Village. The result is a critically acclaimed film that documents a week in the life of the store and the characters that walk in and out the front door including long time customers and some brand new strangers. 

Rick Kelly has been building and selling guitars out of his current location on Carmine Street since 1990.  What makes Rick and Carmine Street Guitars so compelling is Rick’s search throughout New York City for reclaimed wood from the Big Apple’s historical buildings which he then turns into custom instruments. The film doesn’t smash you over the head with a lot of action but is, instead, sort of like a sweet lullaby.  As a film buff I was curious as to how Ron approaches the task of making a documentary and as a guitar nerd I wanted to ask him about how he came to discover Carmine Street Guitars. 

* * *

Steve Waxman  Can you talk us through the genesis of Carmine Street Guitars film.

Ron Mann  You know, I was a fan of Jim Jarmusch's films. All of them but two in particular, Coffee and Cigarettes and Paterson. And Paterson was very soulful. It was five days in the life of a poet. What was interesting about that film was how it just was so quiet. You know, there was a movie made about guitars called Let's Get Loud. Or must get loud? Is that what it is? 

Steve Waxman  No, no, Let's Get Loud. 

Ron Mann  It is Let's Get Loud, right? So I thought, all right, make a film called Let's Get Quiet. You know, I was with Jim, who most people don't know has a band called SQURL with Carter Logan. And we were in Tennessee at Ashley Capps' festival, Big Ears, which is an experimental festival. Ashley runs Bonnaroo. It's kind of the flip side of Bonnaroo. It's like the album Garber, Anthony Braxton, Bill Frisell and others play and so Jim is there with SQURL and we were just talking and he's he was observing that guitar players were using Kelly Guitars and I started asking him about what Kelly was and what's Carmine Street Guitars? And then fast forward and I'm making a movie on Rick Kelly and Carmine Street Guitars.  I mean, the one thing that Jim talked about was how Carmine Street Guitars was like a post office. And so he would leave mail for Patti Smith. And then, a week later, Patty would leave him a note. And it was a drop in for players and it's Greenwich Village which, you know, has been a center for bohemian culture, you know. You can go back generations. Walt Whitman and Edgar Allen Poe and Kerouac and Ginsberg and I always romanticized about Greenwich Village especially in the 60s during which there were six guitar makers on Carmine Street. It was a locust for music. You know, Lenny Kaye, used to work at Bleecker Street Records just up the street. Jimi Hendrix lived there. Lou Reed. It was a place  with clubs. It was like a scene. And that neighborhood has changed over time. And like in New York, or Toronto, or London or San Francisco. That's in Yorkville, in Toronto, in particular is when I'm thinking of it. That scene made way for high end stores. And Rick was, for me, the last man standing. And it made me think about how the changes are happening.  And it wasn't nostalgic but it was more like let's preserve as we move at hyper-speed with technology. What is this development, real estate development, erasing? Just so that we have a record of that time. And most of my films are personal. And so this was happening to me. I was on Mercer Street in Toronto for over thirty  years and my building was sold  to a developer who was going to turn it into a condominium. And so I was evicted. So I wouldn't call it gentrification, but I would call it an invasion.  Sort of the yuppie barbarian invasion of yuppies in Greenwich Village and in downtown Toronto was just on my mind. And I collaborated with Len Blum, who I do all of my films with who immediately said “Don’t make this movie.” (laughs) He does that on all our films. But what he did eventually say was “Why don't you hang out a week and see what you get.” And that's sort of what I did. And it was the serendipity of artists coming in and dropping in and it was about community. In a kind of Jane Jacobs way who also lived in Greenwich Village and in Toronto. You know, I didn't plan on a lot of things happening. As you know, in documentary it's about missed opportunities most of the time, but I came to the set one day, I call it a set, it's actually a real place and there was a real estate agent selling the building next door and so that was figured into the story. You know, what I love about Carmine Street  Guitars too, two things I want to say was the multi generation, so you have Dorothy who's like  95, I think, and Cindy, who's like  the young disciple of Rick Kelly, nearing 70 so it's this wonderful generation, just generations. And it's also something that I, harking back to Jim's film Paterson, when I started making movies, they were performance documentaries, like Imagine The Sound which was about jazz or Poetry In Motion, which is poets performing. And that's how I started out this anthology, films about cultural history. And I thought of films as agitProp, I thought of films as propaganda. In the film Grass that I made about marijuana, prohibition was a tool to change people's consciousness about that pot smokers were not criminals, and change their minds. And in another film with Woody Harrelson called Go Further, which is about health and wellness, trying to get people to b e aware of organic food, health and wellness. So I thought of these films as tools. But then, at the premiere of Carmine Street Guitars in Toronto, Rick Kelly said, "You know, watching this film lowers your blood pressure." So I thought of films as a kind of healing force. It changes your physiology, and I'm sort of interested in that  moving forward as kind of a way to calm one, especially maybe because we're in the middle of a pandemic. But  there was something comforting about Carmine Street Guitars, and that it was slow. And it was taking time, as opposed to, you know, everything is at hyper-speed. You know, I collaborate with a very talented crew that I've been working with forever. Robert Kennedy, for example, who is the editor and John Tran, who is a cinematographer that I work with constantly and before that, Bob Fresco, and Lenny Blum, who I mentioned, and I think of what we do as like, we're in a band, you know, and we're collaborating constantly. And in this film I collaborated with Rick and Cindy.

Steve Waxman  So you say that Len said, go and hang out. Is that what this film is? Or is it a little bit more structured than it is?

Ron Mann  No, it's hanging out in a guitar store and what it feels like to hang out in a guitar store. It's a kind of behind the scenes in a way too, because you never really get that. But what Marc Ribot says in the film is that this is part of the music experience. So when you listen to that song by your artist, you kind of know that there's a whole background to it and it enriches the actual music that you're hearing. It is a very intimate film in the sense that musicians just come in. And some of them are not playing and some of them are just talking with Rick who's kind of like Mr. Natural , Robert Crumb's character, the wise, the sage. Dr. Rick. And it's just a different documentary for sure in that it doesn't have those dramatic shapes. 

I know what I was going to tell you. So Robert Kennedy and I have been editing films since, I guess, 1986 with a film Comic Book Confidential, which is about comic book artists. Across the street from where we were editing, there was an editor from Holland. His name is Hans. And I remember talking to him about editing. And he said, when he started in the 1950s, you couldn't have a cut that was shorter than five seconds long because the brain could not process anything quicker than five seconds. Now that's a long time. We've now gone down to five frames, which is, if it's 30 frames or 24 frames per second, it's five frames. So it's accelerated at hyperspeed. So in a sense, the slowing down, or the slowness of the movie relates to that experience that I had with Hans, and that we wanted to let things sort of breathe. And when we first started, I didn't know if I had a movie. I said, why don't we just start with the Sadie's and see where this actually can work. I thought, after a couple of weeks that I was in New York shooting this, I didn't know if I had a film at all. So Robert started it at hyperspeed. Because Robert edits, at times, for reality television.  It's like, just like a reality TV show. And so I said, "No, no, no, no, wait. Hang on. You've got to let things sort of settle." And then  when we did that, it just became the rhythm of this movie. In Imagine The Sound, this movie that I made about jazz in 1980, when I was 21 years old, I had an epiphany. And that epiphany was from Paul Blay, the great Canadian jazz pianist. He performed a tune and then I yelled, immediately, "Cut." Which is fine. But Paul came up to me afterwards. And he whispered in my ear, and he said, "Ron, music is still in the air. And so why don't you just wait a bit until it settles?" And that, to me, has always been a rule for me. It's just sometimes you have to let things sort of end. And by ending it just doesn't happen when you think it happens. It happens maybe ten, twenty seconds after. Anyway, it's just the idea of letting things just sort of happen at their own pace. You know, there's slow food and fast food. And so, Carmine Street Guitars is a slow food movie.

Steve Waxman  But it's interesting that, Rick, as quiet as Rick is, which is reflected, obviously, in the pace and the whole feel of the movie, he is just as quiet with the musicians who are comfortable with how quiet he is and how just a couple of words are all he needs to say after they finished playing something beautiful. As comfortable as they are, that's how uncomfortable the real estate agent is. 

Ron Mann  One thing that I should mention is that Carter Logan said, "Now, Rick is shy." So I couldn't do a movie where you interview him because he just really wouldn't be that commanding. Now he's more comfortable with film, but back then he wasn't now. Now he's really changed. But back then, he  was super shy. So that's how the idea of people coming happens. Just people that he knows because if he has to talk about guitars, no problem. If he has to talk about real estate. That's going to be a problem. So,you know, he kind of disses the real estate agent that comes in by just not caring. And the thing is Rick just struggled while I was making the movie, just to make just to make each month. But luckily, his landlady is like a benefactor. And after she saw the movie, she said "Rick, you're not going anywhere." In other words, she's making it a point that she is committed to giving him a break because he really shouldn't be there. He's an anomaly. I mean the rents in that area. You know, it's completely unaffordable. It's lovely that she does that for him.

Steve Waxman  The other layer with the real estate agent, of course, is that the real estate agent wants to change the building, while Rick is preserving old New York buildings. 

Ron Mann  That's right. Yeah, that's what he's doing with this. Rick's project is to repurpose wood as guitars and use historical buildings. That is on one level but, really, he was one of the first to, not relic, but he did that for sure but that identified that resonate wood makes a difference in electric guitars. It was mostly in acoustic guitars. It's known in acoustic guitars that wood makes a difference but not in a solid body electric guitar. And using the same wood and necks that's why players really love his custom guitars. And also those necks, which are, you know, the necks became super skinny and players are getting carpal tunnel. And he was making these fatter necks. And he's doing lots of things, you know, like hollowing out the bodies for Lou Reed so that they're really lightweight. That, to me, was amazing. You know, you pick up these guitars and they're so lightweight  because they're hollowed out.

Steve Waxman  But they also resonate more because Lou would love to have drones going and just the feedback coming out.

Ron Mann  Stuart Hurwood, man, he got Lou's guitars to stand vertically without a stand. Just by  vibrations. And also the drones, the frequencies. He's using the studies about the healing force of music. And going back to what I said about film as a healing force, Stuart's been doing it with Lou's guitars.

Steve Waxman  So did you have a conversation? I mean, obviously, you had a conversation with Rick beforehand. I'm just curious, how did you initiate making the film?

Ron Mann  Well, I walked in there with Carter Logon. Carter is Jim Jarmusch's producer and he's the executive producer on Carmine Street Guitars. And I've been friends with Carter for a very long time. And Rick knows Carter and Jim. Jim got Rick to produce the first Bowery series from the wood in his loft. Jim made guitars from the wood in Jim's loft, which is a historical building. And Rick started telling us stories and a busker came in. He had hitchhiked from Philadelphia and Rick was so generous with him. He looked at his guitar and loved it because the busker's guitar, which was beat up, he was saying sounds amazing because it's been played so much that the wood itself was seasoned. And so he replaced a string for free and then gave him advice about where to play, which was in Washington Square Park, which is, you know, could have been 1962 for that matter. And I was just charmed immediately. Also, when you get into that space, it's quiet, you know, New York is shut out. And it's its own oasis. A magical space. And then there was Cindy, who was a gift. I mean, Rick alone is Merlin but when Guinevere is Cindy, who comes into her own, who has her own story and who has been someone who grew up with guitars. Her father was a player and has an art background and just walks in and becomes an apprentice and that, to me, I saw a story just there. And their relationship, which is very respectful and it's just a beautiful thing.  And they're two beautiful humans, and working as artisans. I did not know what this movie was about. Honestly, I was kind of clueless. And it took me a while to understand why people were responding the way they were to this movie. Other than the calming effect that it has. But a friend of mine, John Lang, who does sound over at Urban Post in Toronto, went with me to the Woodstock Film Festival. And afterwards I said, "I still don't get it. I mean, I just, I, you know, it's a small film." And he said, "You know, what it is? Rick is happy, Rick is happy. He chose a life of doing what he wants." And a lot of people don't have that. It's the kind of life that people would, you know, want to emulate. And you see someone who's just happy with nothing except the talent and the desire to make these magical instruments and the community of people that he's surrounded himself with. And then I started to realize, 'Oh, I get it.' And in film I've made the decision as a filmmaker to just kind of do my own thing. You know, Peter Wintonick, the filmmaker said, "You take a vow of poverty making these kinds of movies." And we're happy doing it. I guess. (laughing) It depends when you talk to me.  Sometimes I'm happy.  Sometimes I'm not. 

Steve Waxman  If you didn't know what kind of film you were making, or what the film was about, how do you get to the final edit?

Ron Mann  Well, Robert Altman once said, that film tells you what the film is going to be. You have to have faith. Filmmaking is not a practical vocation. I mean, you're using your instincts all the time. And it's a kind of spiritual thing too. Alfred Hitchcock once said, on the set of dramatic films that the director is God and in documentaries, nonfiction, God is the director. That's why I do it.  It's kind of like improvised jazz in that sense. You know, it's like you have a sort of idea of a theme, but then you just sort of blow. Hopefully you don't blow up.

Steve Waxman  How many of the musicians that are in the film were serendipitous?

Ron Mann  A lot of them. I mean, it was really dependent on their schedules. And, you know, there were a lot of people that didn't even appear. I mean, Walter Becker, you know, just died, said he was going to do it. People agreed to be in the movie, but I had no idea that Captain Kirk was going to show up. I had no idea the real estate agent was going to be there. I knew that Christine Bougie was on schedule touring with Bahamas and in town. So it depended on her schedule. Billy Gibbons cancelled his appearance because his gig got canceled in New York. Now, Charlie Sexton was in New York with Bob Dylan, but just was so busy. So he actually flew back to actually be in the film, which I thought was kind of amazing. I mean, Frisell, you know, I was so lucky. And Nels (Cline), I mean, I didn't know that Nels was going to buy a guitar for Jeff Tweedy. Basically, I wrote a script, as I always do, and then Lenny tears it apart, or rewrites it, and I remember on the first day of the first scene and it was dialogue that I'd written for Cindy and Rick because I thought it was going to make more of a hybrid kind of a movie. And they couldn't read the lines. They couldn't memorize the lines and they couldn't get it right. Because they're not actors. So, I just I threw everything out. Literally. Just like, okay, on the first day I went, that's not working. And I thought, okay, this is what I have, and how can we be creative? And so every day, I would just figure out what, you know, there'll be two or three artists that would come in. I did not know it was even about electric guitars, to be honest with you. I mean, I filmed a lot of artists who were playing acoustic guitar, so I kind of now regret that I did, including, oh, the guy from The Loving Spoonful.

Steve Waxman  John Sebastian? 

Ron Mann  Yeah. I filmed John, who was reminiscing about the Greenwich Village days but he played an acoustic guitar and there were a lot of other players. But, finally, I thought, okay, this is about the electric guitar. And, anyway, I've learned a lot from Robert Altman, which is the movie I did previously. One of the reasons I made Carmine Street Guitars was because Bob used to make these complicated big movies. And then he would make these small movies like Secret Honor. And he thought of them as these kinds of short holidays before you go back to doing bigger productions. And I just came off the Altman film which was like a huge compilation film, which is, I've done a lot of those, and they're very, very complicated. This one was designed as being really super simple. I mean, it is constructed reality, in the sense that I did have certain kinds of posts that I knew that I wanted to reach. And I knew that I had a structure, which I borrowed from Paterson, which is five days in the life, but I am in a bit of Coffee and Cigarettes, you know, of the anthology idea of artists just kind of hanging, dropping in. That was my overall plan. But going back to another one of the other inspirations that I had as a documentary filmmaker was that I was fortunate to meet in a very young age Emile De Antonio, who became a mentor of mine. Now, he was like Michael Moore of his day. He was a political documentary filmmaker who made Milhouse and The Point of Order. And he really considered documentary as an art form, and that it changes and that it evolves. And, and he was inspired by painters like Rauschenberg or the music of John Cage at that time. If you look at Point of Order, it's one of the first compilation films. It's a dramatic film made from historical materials. We have long talks about aesthetics. But one thing that I took away from De Antonio that has really made a difference in all of my films, and the reason that I make these films, besides meeting my heroes, and Rick Kelly is my hero, is the philosophy of why you make these films. And only in interviews to get to reflect and sort of go  Yeah, well, that's the reason why I did this.' But he said to me, "There are two reasons for making a movie. You either love something intensely, or you dislike something intensely." And that, to me, was the reason I made Imagine The Sound, because I love jazz, or the reason I made Comic Book Confidential  because I love comic books and in the end, with Grass, it was because I disliked prohibition. So, that's my guiding principle for really anything, not just even film. You know, if you're going to do something, you have to love something intensely or you dislike it intensely, but you know, there's no in between. Really,

Steve Waxman  Can we go back and talk about your history where you grew up and how you got this interest in filmmaking?

Ron Mann  I was given a camera when I was twelve by my aunt and I made hundreds of Super 8 films. It was a hobby. I went to a lot of movies with my dad. I mean, before the Toronto Film Festival, Gerald Pratley had the Stratford Film Festival for international cinema and ran the Ontario Cinematheque which was at the Ontario Science Center and I went there a lot. to hear Horace Lapp play piano to silent movies. So, by the time I was fifteen I had made all of these Super 8 movies and one of them that I made in grade eight happen to win an award on PBS and my brother drove me to be interviewed in Buffalo. And I just kept doing it as a hobby. And I sort of always, even to this day, I still feel that I'm an amateur sort of filmmaker in that way. And when I was sixteen, I shot and directed a film when I was sixteen in 1975 by friends of mine, and that really was inspired by growing up in Toronto and going to Gary Topp's Roxy, the 99 cent Roxy, which was an art house with incredible programming. So, the reason I knew about De Antonio's films was because Gary programmed those films. El Topo and the other John Waters movies. And so I got my film education by living at the Roxy and thanks to Gary Topp. And Gary became like this nuclear force for me. He then opened the New Yorker and then the Horseshoe Tavern and The Edge. And The Edge is where I saw Archie Chef, but also William Burroughs and John Giorno. I would not have made Poetry In Motion if I didn't walk in to see Burroughs. When I was in college, which was at Bennington in Vermont, I was doing some acid with a friend and we drove to the University of Massachusetts to see Rahsaan Roland Kirk play with Vishnu Wood and Max Roach and others. And that inspired me to make a movie about jazz musicians ultimately. Well, first of all, this you've got to remember, this is before YouTube and Tiktok. You couldn't see bands at the time. The only time you saw musicians were if they appeared in movies, like Elvis movies, or unless it was the TAMI show or TNT. Or it was Ed Sullivan or American Bandstand were the only times you saw musicians. So the idea started to formulate in my mind and AD said, "Make films in your own voice." And so I started to formulate, like really, what is my thing. And my thing became I'm a fan, ultimately. A fan of jazz. But it's it's alternative culture. And that wasn't represented on mainstream television at all, and you couldn't see it. So there was a record by Eric Dolphy, called Last Date, and at the very end of the track Dolphy says, "Music's in the air and then it's gone." Sort of very similar to what Pomroy told me. But it made me understand the nature of or how ephemeral the culture is. And the other thing was that if you didn't document it, it didn't exist because the history, the 20th century, is an audio visual history. So if you didn't film it did not happen. So it became my responsibility to document alternative culture. And this is before  everybody on their cell phones recording every single thing in selfies. So my thing was to document my experience. And the way De was documenting political history, I was going to document cultural history. And that's been my project for the last 40 years.

Steve Waxman  You had talked about how you had scripted and had to throw out the script. But there are, unlike a Ken Burns documentary, you don't have a Morgan Freeman voice carrying the narrative. So you're counting on Cindy and Rick, really, to sort of just move the story a little bit. And I was just curious about that because, you are right, they are a little bit stiff when it sounds like they're saying something that is purposeful to move it along. And I'm just wondering, if you threw out the script, how did you work with them to bring up little things like Cindy asking Rick, a simple question about whether it's why he started doing this and what his philosophy on guitars is, and things like that. 

Ron Mann  So, it was storytelling. So I knew in each scene that I was creating, I needed to know what the story was. And so that was part of my job as a director, which is to move the story along. So I know, typically, what the point is. Now, sometimes I didn't know. And sometimes I did, but I basically established a framework. And also I knew what I was coming from, or typically, these weren't necessarily modules that I could move around. I was locked into, for example, the day and the day was whatever shirt he was wearing because the physical store never really changed. I knew that I was going to film the process of making the guitar, picking up the wood from McSorley's and his, ultimately, making the McSorley's guitar. And sometimes you just make a suggestion, but a lot of it is their words. I just remember Charlie Sexton said something that it was just about the vibe of the place. And I remember thinking, 'Wow, that's it! There's nothing more to say beyond that.' And so the artists came up with their own dialogue. I said I didn't really know what the film was about. And it's true. It wasn't until Marc Ribot started talking about community. That was another kind of flash that, again, it was also before the real estate agent. But I don't know, when Mark sort of described the importance of Carmine Street Guitars, I kind of zoned in on that. And I couldn't have written that. Because I didn't know what it was. I mean, I had my own sort of take on it. And it was similar, ultimately, but the dialogue itself was coming from them. I just knew what the intention was in each scene. And then I knew Lenny Kaye, for example, is going to talk about the history of Greenwich Village, because he lived there. And he had that kind of perspective. It was Lenny's idea to bring in his guitar. I knew that Jim was going to talk about wood and trees and the magic of wood because I know he has an affinity for that, but I didn't know he was going to bring in his guitar, and that sort of thing. And Cindy, was just marvelous. You know, at the very beginning, it was a little stiff. But then, towards the end, they all were like pros. They were just, "What do you want me to do?" And actually, they were so sad. We had left and what's amazing right now is, I think I can talk about this, I'll try to keep it as vague as possible, but basically a very famous reality series producer saw the movie, and has optioned Carmine Street Guitars to be a reality series. And I haven't talked about this before but Cindy, Rick, Jim, Carter and myself are just gonna make sure everything's okay as executive producers, but there's going to be more of Carmine Street Guitars.

* * *

In addition to directing films through his own Sphinx Productions, Ron Mann also puts the focus on otherwise ignored work though his distribution company Films We Like. You can check out all of their titles, including Carmine Street Guitars by logging in to filmswelike.com.