The first question for those who have seen advance screenings of 'Romántico,' whether in New York City or in the multiple film festivals where the documentary has already played out, is always about the whereabouts of Don Carmelo, the protagonist of Mark Becker's documentary, 'Romántico.'

Mr. Becker inexorably tells his audience Don Carmelo Muñiz Sanchez is still with his family back in Guanajuato, the returned he has chronicled in his documentary film about the guitarrist, and though Mr. Muñiz Sanchez still thinks of the day of his return to the neighbor up north, it is left unspoken that this is nothing but wishful thinking.

Of course, were U.S. immigration officers not the bureaucrats they are- who famously poured over Mr. Alfonso Cuarón's qualifications for a whole afternoon a routine visa renewal at the time when Mr. Cuarón had finished shooting a multi-million dollar studio film with Robert De Niro, Ethan Hawke, and Gwyneth Paltrow -then Mr. Muñiz Sanchez, as the notorious former illegal alien he now is, and his daughter, now living in San Bernardino under similar circumstances, would be a marked family. Fortunately, we can be sure this will not happen, and perhaps Mr. Muñiz Sanchez could use his newfound notoriety to earn a legal passage to meet his daughter, newly married and a U.S. illegal resident.

Mr Beck concedes that he purposely avoided showing the film to Don Carmelo until he could see it on the big screen. This happened during the Morelia film festival, a mere hour away from his Salvatierra residence. At the festival, the filmmaker says, Carmelo was welcomed like a hero, with the reference and respect he thought would never be his. Don Carmelo was overwhelmed by the film, where he saw his filmed encounter with his mother, right before her demise, as well as her daughter, by that time having already crossed the border two months earlier.

Another important moment in that first screening attended by the subject matter of 'Romántico' was that, indeed, he now felt that he had achieved what he felt he had not at the time of the filming of the movie- in other words, that he now was 'somebody,' who had accomplished something significant.

Don Carmelo has now done his fair share of radio and print interviews in his home town, becoming a local legend, and despite all this, still struggles to make a living, according to the filmmaker, just like we see him do in the documentary.

The project began in the fall of 2000, says the documentarian, then in San Francisco, working for the likes of Lucasfilm, PBS, and the Discovery Channel, and now based in New York City. He began interviewing the wandering musicians he saw coming back from work. Of them, Don Carmelo seemed the most earnest, and the only one eager to tell the saga of his life. The Mission, the borough where Mr. Becker found Mr. Muñiz Sanchez, the filmmaker describes as part working-class, part hipster hangout. Mr. Muñiz Sanchez and his partner Arturo where among the acts roaming around the low-end taquerias and high-end eateries that are part of the relaxed atmosphere of this part of town. Mr Becker figured out that Mr. Muñiz Sanchez was genuinely open to the idea of the film, answering with the typical self-possession that can be found in the man of the provinces. Also, what the filmmaker describes as crucial about Mr. Muñiz Sanchez can be better described as a clear example of a man of whom it can be truly said he is a craftsman, rather than an artist, or rather, only armed with the certainty of his skills, and not with the indulgence of his own self-importance.

During the shooting of the film, as the documentarians chronicled Don Carmelo's hardships, and as the conversed with his daughter from a pay telephone, the musician slowly comes to realize the true measure of his daughter's love. Ironically, he would return and, after three years, it would be the daughter who would head up north, separating from her family, a married woman at the ripe age of seventeen.

Mr. Becker admits that the film is inspired by the presence of Don Carmelo. 'I found the story through him.' He admits that, at first, was only interested in making a film about an undocumented immigrant who plays love songs for a living. Ultimately, his untimely return home forced the documentarian to rethink his strategy, and in the end fell in love with his subject matter, his storytelling charm, his eartnestness. And so the movie broke the straight jacket that, were it followed, would have yielded merely a mediocre film.

If there is one suspicion about the whole enterprise, that would be it- that given the limited skills of Mr. Muñiz Sanchez as a musician, none helped by his advanced age, and the unassuming camerawork, that this may well be an effort where a happy artistic marriage of sorts has elevated both in a way that would not have been otherwise possible for neither. It is Mr. Muñiz Sanchez's voice that gives the film is soul, the director has admitted, but it may be more than that. It may well be one of those rare films, but as it so often happens with documentaries, were it is the subject matter that makes the movie. It is uncertain at this point if the movie would make 'somebody' out of Mr Becker (the movie is to be screened at Sundance) but it certainly made 'somebody' out of Don Carmelo, at least in Salvatierra.