"Water Works": a film review

I dragged myself out to a late screening of a new documentary film, even though I was too tired and busy.  Because I am a polar bear, a regular year-round outdoor swimmer, I didn’t want to miss a special screening of a new documentary film, “Water Works,” which chronicles dance performances that occurred in 1985 and 1996 at—and in—Barton Springs Pool.

I’m very glad I made myself to see it on the big screen. Since it probably won’t play in  theaters, most people will have to be content to watch it on DVD—and even that will be a treat.

Gene Menger, a local musician and filmmaker—and fellow polar bear—scored and co-produced the film with Eileen Keller. The choreography was by Dee McCandless, also a year-round swimmer. It documents, without any voiceover or talking heads, two remarkable events that were staged in Central Texas’s favorite swimming hole decades ago. A long-time coming, this film was well worth the wait and may “Keep Austin Weird” in the eyes of filmgoers for years to come.

When the film begins, it is a typical crowded, sunny day at Barton Springs Pool. A couple or three dozen swimmers flock together on the side of the pool, near where I normally hang out. Unexpected, they start to crouch, swing their arms like wings and hop around the sidewalk like birds. Before you know it, they have transformed themselves into amphibious creatures and slid into the water where they paddle, splash, dive and slither like around like avians, sea mammals, reptiles. All this occurs while the regular park patrons sunbath, play ball, and jump off the diving board. Some bystanders respond with glee, others seem oblivious to the happening in their midst. Little kids are transfixed and spontaneously try to follow along until their elders cautiously try to pull them aside.

Costumed in regular solid or striped Speedos, the dancers looked splendid with their young, muscular white and tanned bodies. Men and women displayed youthful enthusiasm and grace while expending limitless energy swimming, running, crawling, and hopping around the shallow end of the pool and the nature trail that surrounds it. They cheerfully snaked in and out of myriad formations, at times appearing like a conga line of elephants or flamingos. Some of them are friends of mine, people I know from the pool, now, decades later—some of whom no longer look quite so young and fit.

The sparkling clear water, leafy trees, and sculptural rocks form a splendid backdrop for this guerrilla theatre. And the score by Gene Menger keeps everyone swimming in synchrony with a mesmerizing mix of what I think was western music, gamalon, and nature sounds.

The second part of the film documents a repeat performance, which occurred in 1996. For this, the pool was closed to public swimming and the performance was more like a staged water ballet with costumes, props, and live musicians. My fatigue caught up with me but, much as I was inclined to doze during the final minutes, I couldn't close my eyes and miss any of the fantastic imagry.

Having just seen the film, my experience of Barton Springs has been transformed. This morning, when I went for a sunrise dip in the relatively empty pool, I couldn’t help but see the many dancers descending on the rocks and emerging from the waters. It made me want to swim like a dolphin, jump like a frog, and fly like a cormoran. I felt proud to be a part of the dynamic community that is drawn to the springs.  Even those who can’t bear to enter the chilly waters of Barton Springs will find this film transformative and inspiring, a DVD to watch again and again and to share with friends.

--Karen Kreps reviewed films for Boxoffice magazine 1980-1993 and now blogs at TrueIntimacies.com and NetIngenuity.com. For more information about the DVD, call 476-2548 or e-mail gno@ideality.com.