A very short little film, part of a loose cycle of films (& other things), The Streets of New Orleans. Shot during Carnival; it is succinct & carries a hidden moral which is obliquely exposed in the unfolding of a simple event. Not much happens here. A little group of tourists with a camcorder encounters something strange on the back of a building, & reacts, in the manner of tourists, with subdued-grudging?-interest. To be a tourist is to feel an obligation to see the sights, & more importantly, get it on tape. They got it on tape. Of course, the cognoscenti will grasp the irony that Villere in the Tremé; is well off the path beaten by legions of run-of-the-mill sightseers. But it's not too far of a stretch in this age of post-Katrina disaster tours: grand-scale rubbernecking. As to the moral, it has something to do with the dissonant interplay between three cities piled on top of one another: the New Orleans on offer by the tourism industry, the New Orleans of myth & folk legend, & the New Orleans of gritty reality, run-down, put-upon, & shrugged-off.