Worth: $17.00
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth
Cast:
Rick Kelly, Jim Jarmusch, Bill Frisell, Cindy Hulej
Intro:
As thoughtful as it is fascinating…
Carmine Street Guitars is the latest offering from acclaimed documentary filmmaker Ron Mann, capturing 5 days in the life of the fabled custom guitar shop in Greenwich Village, New York. Its owner Rick Kelly is a dedicated craftsman, building electric guitars from reclaimed wood found in dumpsters and old buildings – the “bones of New York”. His veneration within the community is disclosed by the number of musicians (plus the film’s credited instigator, Jim Jarmusch) that drop in, often to play and share a good yarn with the congenial Rick.
In a modest workshop out back, Rick quietly works away on his stringed instruments like Geppetto, and instils them with character. The shop’s upkeep is supported by his mother, who takes cares of the general admin and his apprentice Cindy Hulej, who adds to his work by burning beautiful designs into the wood. While Rick maintains the business of the shop through word of mouth and traditional methods (he admits to not having a mobile phone or internet at home), Cindy helps the business by sharing their collaborations on social media.
Carmine Street Guitars is a time capsule of an establishment; a testament to the neighbourhood’s bygone era of culture and music. It’s a shop also pleasingly unaffected by the growing gentrification in the surrounding neighbourhoods, highlighted amusingly in one scene when a laconic Rick is visited by a real estate agent.
With guitars made for the likes of Lou Reed hanging on its walls, each handcrafted instrument is a tangible piece of New York’s history. Rick opines about the joy he gets from giving the resonant wood a new life by repurposing them as guitars. He compares the markings in wood as scars or wrinkles on a face that tell stories. On another day, he collects some wood from New York’s oldest bar, McSorley’s and ruminates on how “people have been spilling beer on this wood for 160 years.”
Though each conversation is framed in multiple angles and through editing, the anecdotes and conversations never feel contrived. Instead, Mann makes them feel as intimate as the shop’s pervasive customer service and the main man’s intrinsic affection for his medium. When The Kills’ Jamie Hince shares an old story about damaging the tendons in his finger, Rick knowingly gives him a more-suited instrument with a wider “neck”. After sharing their love of Fenders and nostalgia of surf guitars, Rick wistfully listens to Bill Frisell strum out a rendition of ‘Surfer Girl’. “I’m going to charge a lot more for this guitar now,” he jokes afterwards.
As thoughtful as it is fascinating, Carmine Street Guitars is an affectionate ballad to a New York institution and a portrait of its amiable proprietor and artisan.
