Rock my soul, with the Milneburg joys,
Rock my soul, with the Milneburg joys,
Play ’em mama, don’t refuse,
Separate me from the weary blues,
Hey, hey, hey, hey,
Sweet girl, syncopate your mama.

I have two words for those who complain nothing happens on Treme: Pay Attention. From the first image of the pilot episode, we are thrust into creators David Simon (The Wire) and Eric Overmyer’s vision of New Orleans three months after Hurricane Katrina. The opening sequence is a series of disorienting close shots of instruments, feathers, cigarettes, booze, drugs and the stern faces of authority figures coming in and out of focus. We are not provided with establishing shots, we must establish ourselves in the world of Treme. If you don’t pay attention you’ll be left behind.

Another common complaint about Treme is that it that the musical sequences are dull and don’t add to the story. This one baffles me. These sequences are where all the best stuff happens. One of my favorite examples is from Season 2 Episode 5: Slip Away directed by Rob Baily. The first part of the sequence happens in Delmond’s (Rob Brown) apartment. As I Wish I Was in Heaven Sittin’ Down blasts from his record player, the camera slowly tilts up over the record strewn floor to reveal an agitated Delmond searching through stacks of records. As he sings, a few bars behind the song, his reflection in the mirror creates a singing twin. This reflection is neat because it physically shows Delmond’s conflict between his classical Jazz roots and the modern jazz he plays now. This conflict runs deeper than music, though, as it also represents his previous life in New Orleans with his father vs. his new life in New York. This conflict has plagued Delmond for two seasons and the next two scenes are its climax. As the song plays Delmond grows more and more agitated. Brown uses his entire body to convey this agitation. In one shot he seems to be close to finding what he is looking for as he grooves with his eyes closed to the music. In the next quick cut he is cramped in the frame hunched and frantic throwing himself off balance to get back to the groove he found before. Just as he is on the verge of finding that grove again, Delmond is interrupted by a knock at the door. I wish I could adequately describe what Rob Brown is up to physically as an actor here. All I can come up with is that it looks like his body is battling his brain for control. His body is lurching toward the record player while his head is being pulled towards the door. It’s something you have to see for yourself.  Knocking at the door is Delmond’s New York girlfriend Jill (Danai Gurira). She walks into the apartment and turns the music down. Her interruption sets up the love quadrangle of their next scene. Continue reading →