We attended a screening Wednesday night, the rough cut of a documentary about a small New England town’s fight against Walmart’s attempt to open a store there. Late in the afternoon I rode a bus down to Bryant and Second and waited for Michael there. Then another bus carried us down the depressing wasteland that is Third Street across Lefty O’Doul Bridge. Industrial buildings, ancient working-class bars, boisterous half-mad riders… At Army we got out and walked through a complex of buildings.

Finally found the studio and were led by an assistant through a stuffy maze of corridors. At the end of the trek was a large room that Michael said was likely used for blue screen, a place for filming computer games, special effects and the like. White walls gently curving up from the concrete floor. It was like being inside a bathtub. There was a counter with a spread of black grapes, cantaloupe, vegetarian pizza and minteral water. Rows of folding chairs, behind them a sofa and in front of them a single TV on a stand. About ten people were millling about.

The filmmaker is a friend of ours from Israel, shaven-headed, fit, and broadshouldered. He wore a white t-shirt, looked like Mr. Clean, and sounded like Arnold Schwarzenegger. I enjoyed the film, though it was still very rough, the editing had not been finished, and professional narration had not yet been added. Stories of small towns fighting large corporations always fire my blood, and I’ve never liked Walmart, with its happy-face Nuremberg rallies for employees, its bland massiveness. There was a discussion aftewards, and we watched an altnernate ending for the film, which we all agreed was more gripping and interesting than the current one.

A couple of filmmakers gave us a ride home. As we were driving back we passed the Pacific Bell Stadium, quite impressive, lit up with floodlights and bristling with people, a large neon Coke bottle tilted sideways over it all. Something about its reflection in the black waters of the bay made it especially enticing.

A few years later, Michael screened the completed version of STORE WARS at the Mechanics’ as part of his documentary film salon. Micha, the filmmaker, introduced it.

Third Street is much less bleak now, and easier to navigate, likely because of the stadium and a new light-rail line. I worked in the China Basin Building before that area began its rise into shiny popularity, and our office windows overlooked Third Street. One of our supervisors would give us depressing bulletins about what he spotted there. “Two homeless guys are having sex in the bushes of that vacant lot, guys…”