“New Orleans in the house!�? Spike Lee shouted to the crowd at the New Orleans Arena Wednesday night, at the debut of his HBO documentary, When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts. “New Orleans in the hiz-ouse!�?

That line earned the first laugh of the evening. In this Requiem in Four Acts, all four of which were shown Wednesday night, totaling just over four hours, there were plenty of laughs. They tended to be artfully interspersed in this necessarily heavy documentary. And yet, more importantly, these laughs showed something about the strength of the New Orleans character. This great humor, like the outcome of a jazz funeral, is part of a profound sense of life.

One woman discussed having her house picked up by the flood waters, then carried down the block to be left in Mr. John’s yard. When she told her mother about the fate of their house, the mother paused for a moment, then replied, “Well, Mr. John can’t say I never gave him anything.�?

A certain intimacy between humor and the blues is a New Orleanian theme that I mentioned in the preface to our book, Do You Know What it Means to Miss New Orleans? In fact, the film begins and ends with references to the tune “Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?�? — making me think that Mr. Lee might like a copy of our book.

He tells the story of Katrina, the levee breaks, the Army Corps of Engineers’ great guilt, the shameful behavior of the insurance companies and much more, primarily through interviews. I don’t know how many interviews were left on the cutting room floor, but the ones that made it are full of life. They have stories to tell. Most of them are sad or tragic; some are defiant in the face of impossible odds. This documentary is truly a collection of portraits. Be sure to watch into the credits at the end of the four hours, where many of the main characters hold up frames to their own faces and state their names. It is a brilliant touch.

Spike Lee brings to life people who might otherwise be mere statistics. It is one thing to read a statistic about the number of dead. It is another to hear a young man tell of his mother being left in her house for weeks before the body was recovered.

It is easy enough to read about how many houses were destroyed. It is another thing to follow someone into their home as they discover the amount of damage suffered. These portraits are simply painful to watch, such as the moment when Terence Blanchard takes his mother to see the damage suffered to her home. Spike Lee’s film gives some dignity to people whose experiences have been neglected.

The musician Terence Blanchard is one of the heroes of this movie: his music is absolutely haunting, as the camera spans the damage done to our city. One of my favorite moments is when Mr. Blanchard walks alone down a horribly damaged street, crushed houses, no life. He walks, playing his trumpet — filtering the destruction around him through that horn — and the audience can see firsthand how such suffering can be transformed into something powerful, beautiful. A dirge for the forgotten.

It occurred to me, while watching the overwhelming damage shown in When the Levees Broke, that one reason such pictures are so incomprehensible, so disturbing, is that they illustrate an utter disrespect for human life. For all human life. First the storm, then the failed levees, then the neglect — at every level human life seems to have been completely disrespected. People did not matter to nature, to the government. American people were — and continue to be — expendable. A few voices in the film point out that we’d rather drop bombs in Iraq then spend the time and money to rebuild an American city, that the Bush people are making a choice. Spike Lee’s documentary gives some respect to those neglected lives. Really, that should not be such a radical idea.

The movie takes on many interesting issues, along with the more predictable ones. For example, the topic of oil revenues. Texas became rich with such revenues, while Louisiana — because the oil wells are five or more miles offshore — gets nothing. Garland Robinette, who is one of the many powerful characters of this movie, states, “Give us our goddamn money!�? The crowd responded with applause and cheers, as they did throughout the four hours when something struck a chord.

Robinette received some of the loudest applause, especially when he pointed out that hurricane Katrina missed us, that it was the failed levees that led to the destruction of New Orleans. Ray Nagin received some tepid applause, although the film overall makes him look pretty good. The man is a good speaker, after all, except when one of the greatest disasters in American history hits his city. Few were booed, except for Bush, of course, and the FEMA/Homeland Security idiots. At one point I actually found myself applauding for Al Sharpton, something that has never happened to me before. The loudest applauses, though, were for those people — those portraits — that represent our city. In this film you will find more interesting characters than can be found a thousand films of fiction, including Lee’s own.

Another wonderful story in this film is about the man who yelled “Go fuck yourself�? to Vice President Cheney. You may have seen this on the news last fall. Spike Lee uncovers the heckler’s motivation.

Before the film, I tried to call a couple of friends to come along, only to learn that there are still parts of the city that do not have phone service. BellSouth, the major service provider, has still not gotten that job done, in nearly a year. Lee’s film points out that it is the lack of American will — government will — that has failed to bring New Orleans back to life. If America had its priorities straight, forces would have swept in to fix this city, and a top-rate levee system would have been created. The story of New Orleans, unfortunately, is the story of where America has gone wrong.

Driving to and from the New Orleans Arena, which sits right next to the Superdome, my eyes were once again drawn to the water lines.

I didn’t exactly learn anything new from this documentary, but it was still four hours well spent. None of it is dull. The film helps many people of this city in their personal battles, their battles for pride. The houses are lost, the city has been nearly forgotten, and all that is left is defiance: a refusal to be disrespected. Spike Lee’s Requiem gives some respect.

Finally, and most importantly, I want to thank Mr. Ray Shea for providing four tickets to this premiere. All four were used, Ray. His reasons for not being able to attend are quite interesting and are discussed in the August 14 entry on his excellent website, now “Ray in New Orleans.�?

In exchange for the tickets, I am going to buy Ray dinner at Pascale’s Manale in the near future. New Orleans lives.