At a flyweight 81 minutes, Malcolm Ingram's small town gay bar feels epic — and not in a good way. This Mississippi-set documentary investigates gay culture (or the lack thereof) in the deep South through two bars: Rumors in northeastern MS, owned by Rick Gladish, and the now-shutdown Crossroads in Meridian, MS, formerly owned by Charles "Butch" Graham. In talking to the present and former patrons of both bars, a single sentiment emerges: these venues provide a safe place for the scattered southern LGBT community, somewhere that people can be themselves and let off steam. As one interviewee says, "sometimes it's just nice to get out where you don't have to encounter terrified heterosexuals." Over and over, we hear drag queens, fags, and dykes say that they just don't know what they would do without such an outlet. The bars are the community.

As diligent Flavorpill Sundance readers may know, stgb was among the top ten films I was excitedly anticipating at the festival. And it has its moments: seeing drag queen performer Jim Bishop out of makeup and in scrubs at his vet office dayjob, where he's slight, fey, and utterly adorable; witnessing the bristly anger of Reverend Phelps as he says, "'God hates fags' is a serious, profound, philosophical statement," with a Godhatesamerica.com banner proudly displayed behind him (apparently, God also hates Sweden); and pulling for lesbian couple Lori and Ruby as they rebuild the Crossroads bar and, thus, revitalize Meridian's LGBT scene.

There is no doubt that the film's heart is in the right place (it's dedicated to Scotty Weaver), and there is no doubt that the struggles of the gays in the film are both valid and touching — not to mention that their wry resolve is often quite funny. But stgb drags; the last third of the film feels like a long, drawn-out goodbye. That said, it's hard to blame Mr. Ingram for wanting to linger with a group whose voices are so little heard.