I can't get enough of Jerry Garcia. As far as I am concerned, they can keep on patching together any old home movie in which the kind Papa Bear of the Grateful Dead raises his bearded, silver haired face, and put out movies like this one every other month. I'd happily pay $10 to see Jerry smile again.

Gillian Grisman, daughter of banjo virtuoso David Grisman, did a fine job at doing just that: "Grateful Dawg" shows Garcia and Grisman on stage, Garcia and Grisman recording in their basement studio, Garcia and Grisman trying to put together a tour (Jerry: "I think I might have some time at the end of next year.")

Following her father's admonition to never cut a piece of music, "Grateful Dawg" rings with the crisp clear sounds of Grisman's mandolin and Garcia's ever-fascinating picking. She doesn't cut away to talking heads at every solo. We get a good background of Garcia's musical hunger and interest in old-timey music, Americana, blue grass, whaling songs, and children's music. The deferential tones of the other band members seem a little out of place because with the small-club venues and intimate living room settings of "Grateful Dawg" it's easy to forget that the better part of Garcia's life was spent as the figure head of a massive blissed-out following. The pressures of the Grateful Dead -- four tours a year for thirty years with nary a break -- are only felt at the edges of the safe heaven that playing with Grisman must have been for him. Of course, the tour with the Garcia/Grisman Band the friends discuss at the end of the film never materialized.

Sure, "Grateful Dawg" is a bit of a vanity project that doesn't really explore the reasons why the original Garcia-Grisman Band "Old and in the Way" broke up or how much the pressure of the constantly touring Dead might have contributed to Garcia's drug abuse and untimely death. But anybody with an open ear will find this celebration of the lesser known adventures of one America's most soulful guitar players a true revelation.