‘‘Right now, I’m revolting against the conventions of movies. Who says a film has to cost a million dollars and be safe and innocuous enough to satisfy every 12-year-old in America? … We’re creating a movie equivalent of Off Broadway, fresh and experimental and personal. The lovely thing is that I’m alive at just the time when I can do this.’’
—Shirley Clarke, 1962

From Shirley Clarke, here shattering stereotypes on camera and behind it, comes a provocatively nimble number about a group of drug-addicted jazz musicians waiting for their next hit in an East Village apartment as a writer finds inspiration in their every move. Based on the play-within-a-play by Jack Gelber, Clarke’s unflagging piece of grit is “a time capsule loaded with smack from the Bohemian underbelly of JFK-era America” (Salon).