Jerry’s: A warm welcome courtesy of Chicago-based filmmaker Tom Palazolla.

Tom Palazzolo is one of Chicago’s foremost documentarians, but you don’t have to be a local to appreciate his films. Anyone who’s ever had the occasion to visit a bustling deli will find something to delight in Jerry’s. That's followed by a trip to Munchkinland before guesting at the wedding of Ricky and Rocky.

The quality of the YouTube videos vary. Three DVD compilations are available on Amazon. Why not show your support for independent filmmaking by picking up a set of Tom Palazzolo's tributes to the American spirit.

Jerry’s (1974)

Proustian

A rush of pastrami and the tic-clac harmony of meat slicers would overwhelm the senses. The ten-minute walk from school — in conjunction with a reasonably priced ($4.30!) corned beef sandwich — ensured at least one visit a week to Jerry’s Deli. I can still feel Jerry Meyer grabbing my arm as he yelled in my face, “WHADDYA HAVE? COME ON! TODAY NOT TOMORROW!” Dining at Jerry’s was an experience much like being seated ringside at a Don Rickles concert; people were there for the abuse. What was Jerry’s secret? On the job at their own places of work, his clientele were little more than automatons. “When they come in here,” Jerry reasoned, “by grabbing them, and touching them, and screaming at them, they become human beings.” The footage here clearly wasn’t captured at lunchtime; what with the mob, there wouldn’t be enough room to swing a camera. And woe unto those who made it to the front only to ask for another minute to decide. An outstretched arm and a booming, “GET TO THE BACK OF THE LINE!” would be their fate. Director Palazzolo recalled Jerry’s concern over the finished documentary casting him in a harsh light. Not until his wife gave her approval did Jerry sign off.

I Married a Munchkin (1994)

The merry old land of Chesterton, Indiana is the setting for this, you should pardon the expression, short documentary, set during its annual parade celebrating The Wizard of Oz. Some of the original cast members can be seen participating in the festivities — most notably Margaret Pellegrini and Karl Slover — but the star of the show is Mary Ellen St. Aubin. Her brief career in showbiz came to an end not long after she married the Munchkin of her dreams, Parnell Elmer St. Aubin, aka “Little Elmer,” the smallest midget at the Chicago Fair in 1933. (Excerpts from the fascinating 1933 documentary short Century of Progress highlight his time spent working the Midget Village exhibit.) His appearance in the movie as the first soldier was so slight that it required a freeze-frame to detect. Mary and Parnell were probably best known as the owners and proprietors of the Midget Club, a tavern located on the city’s Southeast Side. Parnell was running the corner saloon when the couple wed, and together they tended bar until the city bought the property to turn it into a library. Come for the Munchkins, but don’t be surprised if you’re gripped by this undiscriminating tale of a little woman destined for bigger things.

Ricky and Rocky (1972)

Before camcorders transformed everyone and their uncle into wedding videographers, Tom Palazzolo and Jeff Kreines filmed this backyard shower/bachelorette party of Italian-Polish extraction on the South Side of Chicago, over by ‘dere. Not much has changed in the way of content: presents are opened for the crowd to “Ooh!” and “Aah!” Guests are thanked in abundance, and an initial reluctance to speak on camera soon dissolves with the addition of alcohol. But as a capsule of time and place, there are none finer. The crowd does surprisingly well when it comes to ignoring the camera as it freely explores the kitchen-garden containment of poly-blend fabrics, lawn furniture seating, Aquanet-varnished beehives, and the smoke of Pall Mall reds as far as the eye can see. The host’s husband’s slacks are so tight they appear to be spray-painted on; the stripes that converge at the crotch are painful to behold.