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Kings '30 for 30' Debuts at Tribeca

Early in “Down in the Valley,” as Sacramento native and NBA-star-turned-mayor Kevin Johnson describes the conditions of his deprived neighborhood and trying upbringing, his grandmother’s favorite saying serves as foreshadowing for his, and Kings fans, later herculean efforts.

“If a task has once begun, do not leave it until it’s done.”

As the 78-minute documentary – debuting in a 479-seat auditorium inside a quaint Chelsea, N.Y. theater – simultaneously chronicles Johnson’s and the Kings intertwined histories, at its core, the film explores the precious, loyal bond between a team and community, and the emotions engendered when that union is both at its highest peak and on the verge of crumbling.

“The K.J. story is really compelling and really interesting, but I would not have agreed to do the project until I met some of the grassroots fans and realized how passionate they were about the team staying,” explained six-time Emmy Award-winning director Jason Hehir on the SVA Theater red carpet. “That’s what resonated with me because I know what it means to be a fan.”

Before devoting ample time to chants, rallies and pivotal social media crusades, Hehir first lays the groundwork with a detailed look at the previously vagabond Kings road to finding residence in Northern California, as NBA sportswriter and historian Bob Ryan illuminates Sacramento’s aspirations and overwhelming enthusiasm for a sports identity.

“We were hoping to get 5,000 season tickets sold,” recalls original Kings Owner Gregg Lukenbill. “We ended up with applications for 25,000 tickets in a building that sat 10,000 people.”

Archived footage of the first game at ARCO Arena oozes with nostalgia – the electric environment still rivaling that of any sports venue – while a Playoff-like atmosphere resonates despite the team’s sub-.500 record over the course of the subsequent decade.

The film not only fluidly integrates viewpoints from interview participants, including former Kings All-Star Chris Webber and longtime NBA Commissioner David Stern – all of whom marvel at the uniqueness and fervor of the fanbase – but juxtaposes Johnson’s shift from basketball standout to aspiring politician with the Kings volatile on-court fortunes.

Breathtaking highlights of “the greatest show on court” during the late 1990s and early 2000s – a free-flowing, uptempo style contingent on constant motion and precise passing – scintillate to the booming bass of Outkast’s “Bombs Over Baghdad,” cowbells harmoniously clanging in the seats.

Moments later, as Webber and Sacramento radio personality Carmichael Dave reflect on the 2002 Western Conference Finals in separate interviews, a mutual pain resonates in their voices – agony that’s further escalated by mirrored recessions in both the team’s success and city’s declining fiscal climate.

“The political and economic landscape, in some weird way, it paralleled our basketball team,” tells Johnson, who was elected mayor on Nov. 4, 2008.

At the height of the downturn, “Down in the Valley” follows the threads emanating from the dark cloud of relocation to showcase early seeds of a grassroots movement, as fans pledge to donate thousands of dollars toward building a new arena and utilize Twitter campaigns as a vehicle to express their undying support.

The now iconic scene of Kings TV broadcasters Grant Napear and Jerry Reynolds delivering a teary signoff in between long pauses following the 2010-11 season finale – as thousands of diehards thunderously chant in the background and refuse to leave their seats – remains emotionally stimulating – both for the viewer and participants themselves.

“I was very emotional watching it – it brought me back to those moments, which were, at times, really hard to describe because of the ups and downs on a daily basis of what everybody was going through,” said Napear after the premiere. “(The film) was just so well-put together – it chronicled the entire emotional roller coaster that the city of Sacramento went through (and) just completely captured the amazing ride.”

Driven by a proud community galvanized in its front to save the Kings – as throngs of purple-and-black-clad devotees await his arrival at Sacramento International Airport and deafeningly chant outside the St. Regis Hotel in midtown Manhattan – Johnson’s confidence nor upbeat disposition ever show signs of cracking.

The Hall of Fame finalist – fighting off tears at the mere thought of a barren, silent basketball arena in The River City – makes it clear no obstacle would stand in the way of saving the beloved hometown franchise.

“It really felt like we were in a battle to protect something that was ours,” says Johnson. “It was about fighting for my city.”

As the documentary captures the back-and-forth intensity of negotiations in ensuing years, it demonstrates the complexities of the mayor’s obstacles and provides glimpses into his presentations to League executives and team owners, offering a revelatory, unflinching view from every standpoint.

The broader forces of the relocation committee’s decision to keep the Kings in Sacramento are most palpable when Johnson answers a blocked-number call from Stern and raises his arms in euphoric celebration, which transitions to a powerful snapshot of Carmichael Dave – tears streaming down his face – barely able to speak to a similarly weeping, speechless Napear.

“This is a love story – it’s a story of the fans of Sacramento and their team,” said Kings Principal Owner and Chairman Vivek Ranadivé on the red carpet, adding construction on a downtown, state-of-the-art sports and entertainment center is well underway. “They got together and found a way to keep their team.”

At a post-screening Q&A session, Johnson – seated in a director’s chair with a luminous Tribeca Film Festival logo behind him – deflected countless praise thrust upon him to an integral group of spectators, asking all Sacramento natives in the audience to stand.

“This is a Sacramento story – these folks came from 3,000 miles away to be here, and they did their part to keep the team in Sacramento,” he said, looking out at hundreds of applauding supporters.

“Sacramentans – thank you.”


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