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Fans of classic TV may always look into John Goodman’s face and want to cry out, “Dan!” — recalling him as the gentle working-class husband he played for nine seasons on “Roseanne.” Goodman’s OK with that, but lately he’s been working on shifting his image with other roles, working alongside Al Pacino in HBO’s “You Don’t Know Jack” and in a regular part on David Simon’s “Treme.” Plus, with “Treme,” Goodman gets to work out of his own backyard, as a longtime resident of New Orleans. But he’s also living with a Big Easy production boom and is learning to take some of his own medicine by living among camera crews everywhere: “I can’t hardly park on my street anymore,” he grumbles genially. But even amid mild complaints, it’s clear that Goodman is happy and in his element.

You live in New Orleans and you work there now on “Treme.” What’s it like making a TV show about the last disaster there while in the midst of the newest one?

Christ. My heart was broken because I thought the city was going to be lost. Canal Street — knee-deep in water; alligators holding up traffic; people on rooftops. So [the oil spill has] dredged up a lot of the old feelings again, a lot of anger and fear. There are T-shirts that say “Defend New Orleans,” and I understand what that means now.

What makes people so passionate about New Orleans?

If I could put my finger on it, I’d bottle it and sell it. I came down here originally in 1972 with some drunken fraternity guys and had never seen anything like it — the climate, the smells. It’s the cradle of music; it just flipped me. Someone suggested that there’s an incomplete part of our chromosomes that gets repaired or found when we hit New Orleans. Some of us just belong here.

How is the “Treme” set different from others you’ve worked on?

There’s less of a feeling of community than, say, on “Roseanne,” because I only work one or two days a week. There are so many story threads going through “Treme” that we’ve had two occasions where the cast has partied — and it was great, all meeting together, because it’s like we’re working on different shows. There were people I’d never met before, but we’re all on the same show.

You were reunited with Al Pacino in “You Don’t Know Jack” for the first time on film since 1989’s “Sea of Love.” Are you friends?

Going back and playing with Al, it’s like picking up a football and chucking it around with someone you went to college with. He’s so cool, man, because he’s so committed to being an actor.

Actors who take on long-running TV roles sometimes have a hard time getting work after — but you never seemed locked into the role of Dan Conner. Did you worry about that?

Maybe in my seventh or eighth year. I thought the show had gone as far as it could, and I was apprehensive that I was trapped there. Plus, there was a lot of extraneous tabloid … going on, and that was tiresome. Plus, I was a pretty good drunk by then.

Has being sober for three years changed the way in which you approach working?

It’s changed everything, dramatically. I’m very passionate about what I do for a living again, and, at the same time, I’m able to take it for what it is. You have to take it seriously, but not over-seriously, and step back and laugh at it. When I was drinking, everything was revolving around “poor me,” I just whined so much and felt so sorry for myself, I was so miserable. It’s a big load off of my back.

You’re Dan to many longtime fans, but I still like you as the 6-foot, 3-inch “consistent panda-bear-shaped” guy from “True Stories.” You sang in that film; do you sing for fun still?

Not so much anymore, now that I quit the social lubricant. One of the things I used to do in New York is get a bunch of guys together in a bar and start doing doo-wop and a capella, whether anyone wanted to hear it or not. But as I sobered up, my ears got better because I don’t sound so hot.

So you won’t be doing a guest role on “Glee” anytime soon then?

[Chuckling] No, I don’t reckon.

(From the LA TImes)

 

‘Treme’s’ unique star: New Orleans

Shooting has just wrapped for the season on HBO’s “Treme,” and Khandi Alexander is packing up, trying to fit Zulu parade coconuts and Mardis Gras beads into her boxes along with an overflow of bittersweet memories.

“What we’ve gone through down here in the past few months — it seems surreal. I don’t have the vocabulary to describe it,” says the actress, whose inner fire and sharp-etched strength have helped make her character, New Orleans bar owner LaDonna Batiste-Williams, one of the standouts in the new show from David Simon, creator of HBO’s “The Wire.”

So much has been remarkable — from being enmeshed in the storm-ravaged city in January when the Saints won the Super Bowl (an event she describes as “magical”) to being there in April, when “Treme” began to air, and once-skeptical locals embraced it to the point of gathering at bars and house parties every Sunday night to watch.

But the event that still pains her is the memory of the collapse on set of David Mills, the Emmy-winning writer and co-executive producer with whom her creative relationship goes back to HBO’s “The Corner,” in which she played a drug addict. Mills, 48, died of a brain aneurysm just 12 days before “Treme” would premiere. “He was a gentle giant and incredibly talented,” she says quietly. “You just always wanted to give him your best, and if he smiled after you finished one of his scenes, you knew you had it.”

The mix of tragedy and celebration that Alexander is now sifting through seems all of a piece with the tone of “Treme,” a one-hour drama that revels in the unique traditions and music of New Orleans even as it rails against the natural and man-made disasters that have left the city devastated and dispersed.

Writer-producer Eric Overmyer, who co-created “Treme” with Simon, says the two men didn’t set out to write a show about the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. Since the mid-1990s, they’d dreamed of crafting a fictional show simply about musicians, without relying on cops, crime scenes and lawyers to provide infrastructure. “What interested us about New Orleans was the culture, the food, the language,” says Overmyer, who first collaborated with Simon on HBO’s “Homicide: Life on the Streets” and who’s maintained a second home in the Crescent City since 1989.

Then the epic storm swamped the levee system and put 80% of the city under water, searing into national memory the images of stranded residents enduring an agonizing wait for aid. “We couldn’t ignore that this had happened,” said Overmyer, “so it became a show about musicians and other people in New Orleans trying to put their lives back together after the storm. But the storm is the context for the show, not the reason for it. The culture is the reason.”

Of course, raw-edged authenticity in depicting that culture is a given from a writer-producer like Simon, whose Baltimore-set crime series “The Wire” prompted journalist Bill Moyers to describe him as the Charles Dickens of the television medium. From the opening scene, in which trombonist Antoine Batiste ( Wendell Pierce of “The Wire”) hustles up to take his place in a traditional brass band during a street parade, the show’s focus on the way a musician sees the world has been unique and exhilarating. One of the most striking aspects of its code of authenticity has been the abundant use of live, local music.

“Most shows record the music beforehand in a studio, and then have musicians pretend to play,” says Blake Leyh, the show’s music supervisor. “But very early on we decided that in ‘Treme,’ any music you saw being performed would be recorded then and there — and also, it would be music you would have heard in that situation at that time.”

The live music policy quickly became a way to help sustain the city’s musical culture. “We hire so many local musicians to play live and pay them decently,” Leyh points out. “And whenever possible we have them play their own compositions, so that they’re also getting paid for the rights to the music.”

HBO has renewed “Treme” for a second season, so Alexander knows she’ll be back in the fall. But for now, she notes, “we’re working with so many locals who have lived through the actual events of Katrina. Situations can be delicate, and you want to be respectful at all times. Maybe if the show has the good fortune to run for several years, I’ll finally feel like I can kick off my shoes.”

From the LA Times

 

Mapping HBO’s Treme

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Photograph by G.K. Darby

Two days after the premiere of the new HBO series Treme, Lionel Nelson, 60, sits in Sidney’s Saloon (1500 St. Bernard Street) watching a rerun of the first episode. Trumpeter Kermit Ruffins appears on screen to the delight and laughter of Sidney’s patrons. One of many locals cast in the show, he plays himself. Ruffins owns Sidney’s-home to the regulars who used to drink at Joe’s Cozy Corner (1532 Ursuline St.), a legendary Treme bar where the Rebirth Brass Band and Ruffins had a standing gig on Sundays.

See our interactive Treme map and continue reading after the jump.

As for Nelson, he is a Treme refugee. In the late 1960s, his home at 1202 Saint Philip was torn down along with roughly a quarter of the neighborhood. “They bulldozed a thriving community,” he says. “Beauty shops, bars, food stores, barber shops! And what have they done with it? There still ain’t nothing there.”

Treme property was annexed by the city to build a cultural center surrounding the Municipal Auditorium, which was built in 1925. A lack of funds doomed the project. With the death of Louis Armstrong in 1971, momentum swung toward building a memorial park. Armstrong Park was eventually completed in 1980. But the park has fallen into disrepair and disuse. The National Park Service now plans to turn Armstrong Park into the headquarters for a New Orleans Jazz National Historical Park.

As for Treme itself, it is a hard neighborhood to pin down. Different maps—and different New Orleanians—have different opinions about its boundaries. Nelson believes that Treme is within Esplanade Avenue, Claiborne Avenue, Basin Street, Orleans Avenue and North Rampart. “Treme was always a small place,” he explains. The TV version is a bit bigger. On the show Ruffins is performing the tune “Skokiaan” at Vaughn’s, a Ninth Ward club he plays every Thursday. Nelson points to the TV. “Now what does Vaughn’s have to do with the Treme?”

Plenty, actually. As the people who built Treme disperse to other neighborhoods and cities, Treme became not just a neighborhood but a concept—the spiritual home for jazz and gumbo; ground zero for the African culture that powers New Orleans culture. —G.K. Darby

(See original content on National Geographic’s Blog)

More from G.K. Darby at SeeNOLA.