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Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets

Directed by Bill Ross IV and Turner Ross
Starring Michael Martin, Peter Elwell, Shay Walker
Running time: 1 hour and 38 minutes
Not rated

by Audrey Callerstrom

Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets takes place in the version of Las Vegas that you’ll likely never see. Far from the lights, the tourist traffic, the flip-flip-flip of people trying to get your attention with cards for local escorts. It’s all concrete – roads, medians, parking lots. It’s a desert, after all. If you live here, where do you spend your time? You don’t belong on the strip with the tourists, and you probably don’t want to be at home either, parked under your window AC unit (if you’re lucky enough to have one). You can, however, find respite in a dive bar called Roaring 20’s. You can laugh, vent, toss back a few (or more). Roaring 20’s is home to the young, the old, the boisterous, the reserved, veterans, actors, musicians, men in suits who drink into the early morning without going home to change first. Sadly, today is the last day before Roaring 20’s closes its doors for good.

Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets has the look and feel of a documentary unmitigated by narration, seemingly unprompted. It’s more of a hybrid than a true documentary, but ultimately what is spontaneous and what is planned proves immaterial (meaning, don’t look it up). The film flows with grace and style from its opening credits, which are in yellow retro typeface. It shows the time of day in a font that mimics early digital watches, and the film is broken up with title cards like, “As The Sun Went Down and the Music Did Play.” Roaring 20’s opens at about 10:59am, and the film will follow its patrons until its very last closing time, which is sometime around 4:00am. What starts as a bittersweet celebration ends with goodbyes, tears, friends slumped over one another. It never glamorizes drinking – we see the night turn hostile, conversations turn incoherent. Actor Michael Martin imparts wisdom onto a younger patron: “Get out of this bar and don’t go into another one.”

I have a newfound appreciation for the aesthetics, the lighting and the decoration inside the walls of a bar. Maybe it’s the sense of nostalgia. The interior of Roaring 20’s is decorated with Christmas lights, a cattle skull, stained glass bannisters. There’s a jukebox, the inevitable framed photo of Marilyn Monroe, strings of light-up dice. But what is most pleasing is the effect the drop ceiling lights have across the bar; the lights are pink, giving everyone at the bar a soft, pleasing, peachy-pink glow. The film also has a terrific, eclectic soundtrack: “Thriller” plays on the jukebox; a group of friends bellow the lyrics to A$AP Rocky’s “Fuckin’ Problems”; a bartender performs Roy Orbison’s “Crying” before his shift ends; Sophie B. Hawkins’ “Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover” plays as the patrons light sparklers outside.

Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets, aside from having one of the best film titles ever, captures that feeling of letting go of your inhibitions and relaxing in a dark bar with air conditioning and cold drinks. Nothing is expected of you, as long as you pay your tab. You don’t have to talk, and in some cases, you don’t even have to wear pants. There are many funny moments; second-shift bartender Shay (Shay Walker) says with a loving smile to her teen son, “There’s a NO PARKING sign and a traffic cone in my backyard.” A cake is inscribed with, THIS PLACE SUCKED ANYWAYS. There isn’t a central character, but most of the focus is on Martin, an intimidating older man with long white hair who imparts wisdom on success and life but also grows sad as the night goes on. Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets is an experiment in curating truths to demonstrate poetic, fleeting public moments of connection, even if we don’t always remember them.

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