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A full house awaits the first-ever public showing of "La Porte, Indiana" at the New La Porte Cinema on Wednesday, July 14. Photo by Mike Kellems. (Click to enlarge.)

UPDATE JULY 16: See message on official “LaPorte, Indiana” documentary site about upcoming showings and DVDs: http://laportemovie.com/?p=235 

By Beth Boardman

   La Porteans are notoriously skeptical of “outsiders.” You can live here for 30 years and still be scrutinized as a newcomer. But sometimes we need an outsider to open our eyes — or reopen them — to our own environs.

   La Porte (I’ll explain the space later) wasn’t even a dot on the map to Jason Bitner and Joe Beshenkovsky until a few years ago. Then Bitner, who happened upon thousands of vintage photos here taken by the late studio photographer Frank Pease, put together a book and the two of them subsequently brainstormed a documentary. “La Porte, Indiana” premiered at the New La Porte Cinema Wednesday night, July 14, 2010, to a crowd of about 150.

   The biggest surprise to me and many others: This film is often profoundly moving. Many viewers were repeatedly brought to tears.

   But don’t assume it’s just a nostalgia train. Emmy winner Beshenkovsky and FOUND magazine editor Bitner bring the stories of selected La Porteans to life — some with happy endings, some with cruel twists, some with questions about the future. And don’t assume there aren’t laughs — plenty of lighthearted moments brighten the film.

   Locals will surely recognize many onscreen faces. Hugh and Kathy Tonagel. John Bradley. Garry “Burrhead” Lenard. Carol Benson. Tom Larson. John Pappas. Jeff Dunk and his father, John. Frank Marrufo-Torres, owner of Mucho Mas. And Gary Wedow, a native who left La Porte but certainly hasn’t forgotten it.

   But there are as many young people in this film as there are adults. And their stories are perhaps the most compelling. After all, their futures will shape La Porte’s future — will they stay here? Leave and then return? Or leave and never look back?

   That’s a key to this film’s theme. It doesn’t answer those questions because it can’t. It doesn’t tie up this community’s identity with a neat little bow. Its beauty is in showing La Porte through the eyes of everyone from a homeless teenager to a middle-aged Vietnam vet to an avuncular octogenarian.

   I’m not going to play spoiler; you won’t find more of those stories’ details here. Suffice it to say that it’s amazing what lies behind the earnest faces of those who look out from those vintage Pease photos. And it’s more than worth your while to find out. (More showings and the DVD will be available soon; check at B&J’s American Cafe or at http://laportemovie.com for details.)

   B&J’s was the site of a happy gathering after Wednesday’s debut — director Beshenkovsky, producer Bitner and cinematographer Jason Gould welcomed guests. Many who appear in the documentary were there, as well as financial contributors, friends and family. Most of those present knew one another already, separated by far fewer than six degrees. It was a perfect setting since Pease’s 1950s and ’60s portraits — the unbreakable thread that ties together the book, the film, the people — continue to sit just feet away in boxes and boxes on shelves in the restaurant.

   A few feet in the door, I talked with two young La Porteans, Nick Santana, 18, and James Neary, 19. Don’t they represent the generation who, when they think La Porte, think “run and don’t look back”?

   James: “I was born and raised here and I thought I had the town figured out.” But the film, he said, opened a new door to him — “all that history.”

   Nick: “It showed a whole new side of La Porte … It makes me really glad that I live here.”

   Whoa. What? That’s right — 18 and 19.

   In a different way, the evening delivered revelations to Jari Garton Gift, Frank Pease’s granddaughter. She thought she was the only Pease descendant left in the area (she lives in Wanatah). Then who shows up at the premiere — Mike Pease, her cousin. They hadn’t seen each other since they were little kids. What a kick to eavesdrop on their conversations as they remembered this colorful relative and that family story. In Jari’s back yard is a Ferris wheel that her grandfather built. Mike remembers it from when he was a kid. Soon they’ll visit again and see it together.

   Jari also saw glimpses of Pease photos in the movie that she didn’t know existed — most touchingly, a picture of her late brother that she’d never seen before. The filmmakers didn’t know it was her brother; the picture was among those they randomly chose from the hundreds at B&J’s. She’ll be searching for it there soon.

   Beshenkovsky and Bitner seemed cautiously pleased about the audience’s reaction Wednesday. Beshenkovsky was happy that folks seemed to respond emotionally. Bitner was relieved that locals came to trust the filmmakers — that they didn’t smell an intellectual putdown in the making.

   Will “La Porte, Indiana” find an audience outside La Porte, Indiana? The two will find out soon enough when it debuts this weekend at the Indianapolis Film Festival. But Hugh Tonagel had a take on that question:

   “They tied in a lot of neat things about life, about growing up, and values. That film can be applied to La Porte, Indiana — it can be applied to any place.”

   Footnote: Oh, the space … when WNLP debuted about a year and a half ago, we decided to go with the “modernized” version: LaPorte — no space. But in deference to those who insist on following to the letter (or the space) the French version of “The Door” (go see the film), we’ll include it in this particular story.

   You’re welcome.