My Taco With Margaret

(The Order of Myths shows one last time, today at 11am at the Alamo Ritz: HURRY.)

You never know what you might learn if you take a filmmaker out for a taco. I learned that Margaret Brown, the director of the poignant Townes Van Zant doc Be Here to Love Me and this year's The Order of Myths, is a surfer! And if you're a Southerner you'll appreciate this: She surfs the Atlantic, off Long Island. Yes, the one near New York. Brrrrr. Oh, and I learned that mini-Moon Pies are only 100 calories, and that they are, in her words, the "perfect filmmaker snack."

Over the course of a couple of potato and eggs (with jalapeños, lettuce, tomato, and guacamole), I also learned that Margaret is self effacing. When describing her memories of Alabama's Junior Court and its "mini-King and mini-Queen" (the Junior High preamble to that beloved Southern feeeeeemale tradition, the Debutante Ball), the now very swan-like young woman used just about every After School Special adjective you can imagine to illustrate the picture of a young Margaret as Ugly Duck: "gangly, awkward, gap-tooth": "I don't even remember who the Queen was, I just remember the humiliation."

Of course, what decent taco with a filmmaker wouldn't result in some stimulating conversation about the cultural state of affairs of the modern South? In early 2008, I set out on my own exploration of Mardi Gras culture. I had to confess to Margaret that I intentionally left Mobile off the list this year, due to its reputation as a more overtly racially segregated celebration. In my journeys, I learned, however, that segregation is fairly entrenched across the board in many a Mardi Gras-celebrating town. My quest was also to discover the roles and visibilities of queer folk, so I wanted to compare notes. "Don't you think the whole thing is … well, kinda 'gay'?" I spouted, aware and ashamed of my use of 12-year-old boy vernacular. "Some people might think dressing up like Kings and Queens is sort of 'gay'," she replied. Then she added that the rituals are also used as incredible career networking opportunities. "Some people might want to get dressed up in tights; some people might want to work at the bank."

But the biggest thing I learned about Margaret Brown was that she never set out to unmask the nature of race relations in Mobile, Alabama when she began her trip back home to create her tender and observational film about the various organizations and motivations behind the city's Mardi Gras. "Some people may think my idea was to stir up trouble. Many other people are looking for anything to open things up to talk about it." What was interesting to the 36-year-old Mobile native and what guided the film to its soul, was to see "how the dialogue had already started," she said, before the first frames were even shot.