Friendship rings true in ‘Dawg’

Steve Morse

Friday, Dec. 7, 2001 | 10:02 a.m.

The Grateful Dead became such a colossal touring machine that it's no wonder Jerry Garcia needed a break from it. That break came in the form of a partnership with a friend and fellow folk music lover, David Grisman. He and Garcia would repair to Grisman's Mill Valley, Calif., home to play homespun acoustic music that soothed nerves, but also explored new dimensions of the genre.

The fruits of those labors are captured handsomely by Grisman's daughter, Gillian, who directed this movie with the care of a fan, but with the pacing and knowledge of a professional who should have a bright future behind the lens.

This loving documentary tracks the Garcia/Grisman friendship and provides an enriching look at music that didn't move mountains, but did move souls.

Grateful Dead fans will love it, as will anyone intrigued by the artistic process and by how Garcia -- a mysterious icon in the Dead -- could be such an easygoing figure in the company of Grisman. Neither man is consumed by ego. There are no power plays -- just two acoustic gents getting together at Grisman's home and at the Sweetwater Cafe in Mill Valley and the Warfield Theatre in San Francisco to play everything from revised Dead tunes ("Friend of the Devil") to sea shanties, bluegrass tunes, reggae chestnuts (Jimmy Cliff's "Sitting Here in Limbo"), jazz instrumentals and children's songs ("Jenny Jenkins").

The music is sublime, but so is the artful direction of Gillian Grisman. She combines home movies, concert footage and interviews with musicians such as Bela Fleck, Vassar Clements and Peter Rowan to flesh out a story of two men who were "born out of the same cosmic egg," says Rowan, who played with both in the '70s bluegrass group, Old and in the Way. Adds Fleck: "It was a chance for Jerry to play acoustic music at a very high level."

Compared to the more free-form Grateful Dead, Garcia says he loved to play with Grisman because of "the mental discipline, which was something I shied away from for most of my life." And he clearly revels in playing music outside the Dead repertoire. "The sea shanties are way outrageous," Garcia says with his famously broad grin.

The pure joy of music-making is what this gem of a film is all about. "Jerry used to say we could do this for the rest of our lives," David Grisman says. Alas, their partnership was cut short by Garcia's death in 1995. But this film is a testament to just how much heart Garcia and his soul-brother friend put into everything they played.