The documentary Broadway: The Golden Age is both great theater and a great movie. What could be more theatrical than one man alone with a camera crisscrossing the country, sleeping on friend’s couches, selling off his furniture to get more money to keep going, spending five years amassing interviews and ending up with the certifiable 100 legends onscreen here? Rick McKay directed, wrote, shot and edited the film and his real-life ‘Impossible Dream’ of documenting the story of New York theater’s halcyon period (the ’40s through the late ’60s) has been beautifully realized.

On the surface, of course, the reason this is THE movie for theater queens and show tune folk alike is the distinct frisson of seeing so many bona bide legends collected together (from Bea Arthur to Gwen Verdon in her last on-camera interview). It made me recall the giddy pleasure of seeing That’s Entertainment for the first time and the not-so-subtle stargazing fun afforded in Robert Altman’s The Player. This is literally a Night of 100 Stars—but they’re all talking and the stories these actors tell are very compelling. The movie is a wonderful history of the cultural phenomenon that was Broadway and an invaluable document (in the time that McKay worked on the film several performers passed away).

At the beginning of Broadway: The Golden Age we are given a brief synopsis (accompanied by home movies) of McKay’s life. Born, but unfortunately not in a trunk, in Beech Grove, Ind., the openly gay filmmaker, inspired by the movie versions he saw of Broadway theater life (like The Bandwagon and All About Eve) headed for New York in the early ’80s just as the British Invasion of Cats, Les Miz and Phantom took over the theater district. He eventually decided to start tracking down what happened to the Great White Way (which we are shown in rare home movies and stock footage from the ’40s through the ’60s). Not knowing what a Herculean task he had set for himself, McKay began trying to line up interviews.

From that point on, basically the movie is one talking head after another interspersed with rare footage of the shows and forgotten personalities (Laurette Taylor for example). There are familiar tales: Shirley MacLaine, the understudy going on in Pajama Game for the ailing star Carol Haney and being discovered by Hollywood, but this story—along with others—is relayed with fresh details (MacLaine’s tennis shoes were dyed black in the basement for the ‘Steam Heat’ number while she was onstage and they were still wet when she put them on) and there is the added perspective of star John Raitt and others who were in the audience.

The many audacious stories in the film are broken down into various sections that neatly collect them (‘The Big Break,’ ‘Getting The Job,’ etc.). One category (‘Camaraderie’) gets at the underlying reason why Broadway will never be the same (and gives the movie a lot of depth). Carol Burnett relates a story about how she and her roommates each contributed $5 toward what they called ‘the audition dress’—whoever got the first appointment time got to wear it—that vividly illustrates the mutual sense of community. Shared nightspots, diners and drugstores (especially Walgreen’s) are individually recalled. The longing for that community is still palpable.

If there is a quibble it’s because McKay’s story disappears from the movie (though, on after thought, that’s because making this movie became his life) and that this feast of personalities leaves one more than a bit hungry for more of each (a forthcoming DVD is sure to address that). A sequel that will focus on recent Broadway performers (like Patti LuPone and Audra McDonald) arrives next year. In the meantime, Broadway: The Golden Age is the hottest ticket in town. Movie ticket, that is. [At Landmark.]

DVD OF NOTE:

The Line King: The Al Hirschfeld Story, the Oscar-nominated documentary of the life of The New York Times caricaturist, has recently been released by Home Vision and is a perfect compliment to Broadway: The Golden Age (Hirschfeld, naturally, appears in the film). This edition adds a terrific bonus feature of the master creating a portrait of Paul Newman onstage in a revival of Our Town soon before Hirschfeld’s death at 99, as well as a healthy gallery of Hirschfeld caricatures. An assortment of theatrical legends attest to an amazing gift that is sorely missed.

Resident Evil: Apocalypse is proof that certain movies and computer games are becoming indistinguishable (and it’s getting harder to tell which came first). This sequel to the sci-fi dead zombie hit (both star cover girl turned action priestess Milla Jovovich) has more than a few elements cribbed from Escape From New York, and the Dead series (especially Day of the Dead) but adds the visceral excitement of a PlayStation game. What fascinated me most was actress Sienna Guillory, who plays a character name Jill Valentine. In looks, manner and especially, action, I had moments where I wondered if she WAS computer generated. That might as well be taken as a compliment by all concerned as I’m sure that was the intent. I would suggest that the sequel to this (a given) become more interactive and drop the movie pretense—controllers should be handed out so that audiences can play along. Prizes could be awarded to those with the most zombie kills.

LOCAL SCREENING OF NOTE: In SexDRAMA, Matt Thiesen, a recent graduate of SAIC, has written and directed a post-slacker generation black comedy that blurs the lines between gay and straight, commitment and fear of commitment and especially sex and love. Shot on Chicago locations with a scruffy cast that wants more than anything else to get it on. A lot. Thiesen, who will be present at the one-night-only Sept. 17 screening at the Gene Siskel Film Center, is off to an interesting, quirky start. www.siskelfilmcenter.com