Okay, everyone, this weekend, I expect you to go to a New York movie theater.

It isn't often that I want you in front of a screen instead of a stage, but that's what I demand from all of you from May 11 on, when a documentary known as Show Business opens in New York at the Landmark Sunshine Cinema at 143 East Houston Street. (Call 212-330-8182 for showtimes — as soon as you finish this piece, of course.).

You can't quite tell it from the title, but Show Business is actually about Broadway — the 2003-2004 season, to be precise. While we see excerpts and marquees from many shows that season, director-producer Dori Berinstein decided to concentrate on the four musicals that would vie for the Best Musical prize.

They were, in case you've forgot (though I know you haven't) Caroline, or Change, Taboo, and — oh, what were the other two? Oh, yes, I remember: Avenue Q and Wicked.

"Those two shows did give us some fabulous drama we didn't anticipate when we started the film," says Berinstein.

So, even though the first words of the film reveals a truth about us theater-lovers— "Movies don't do it for them" — I expect that this winner of the Best Documentary prize at the Florida Film Festival will indeed do it for you. Girls who love Wicked will have to see it movie, too.

Berinstein credits The Season, William Goldman's landmark book about the 1967-68 semester, as a big influence on her. "It's my favorite book of all time, and made me want to be part of this world," she says. "My dream was to bring this book to life, although I'd obviously have to do a different season."

Still, Berinstein did get Goldman to make an on-screen comment. As he dryly says, "I think there are enough neurotics who want to work in theater, and, hopefully, they get their shot."

Berinstein sees it differently. "I wanted to celebrate these great artists and the honest struggle they make," she says.

So we get opinions, too, from Chris Boneau, one of Broadway's leading press agents; Nancy Coyne, The Street's acknowledged guru of marketing; Rocco Landesman, a Caroline producer, and Alan Cumming. (What's he doing here, you ask? After all, he didn't appear on Broadway during the 2003-2004 season. No, but he's a co-producer of this film.)

These interviews allow us to see some interesting offices. Landesman has some sports trophy next to one of his Tonys. (In case you didn't know, he's a rabid St. Louis Cardinal fan. I've often wondered which of his interests came first: Musicals or Musial? For those of you who aren't baseball enthusiasts, Stan Musial may have been the greatest player in Cardinals' history.)

Wicked producer David Stone has copies of the Best Plays and Theater World annuals on his piano. John Lahr has a picture of Oscar Wilde over his desk. I didn't see an image of his daddy Bert Lahr, but to be fair, the younger Lahr's entire office isn't shown. Robyn Goodwin, the Avenue Q producer, has a window that faces an off-track betting parlor (where she may as well go to wager. It's probably safer than producing Broadway).

We go to rehearsals, too. There's Idina Menzel, unaware that a Tony's in her future, when rehearsing Wicked. Note that she's in a green T-shirt —and that her make-up, at least on this day, was more lime green in color. Contrast this to a Caroline, or Change rehearsal, where there's a drummer with a magenta Mohawk. A clip of Avenue Q's early airing at the BMI Lehman Engel Musical Theater Workshop is included. Jeanine Tesori's hands on the piano look so careworn for a woman who's far from 50. (Well, how do you think you get that good? Practice, practice, practice!)

Time passes, of course, and already some of the sights we see in Show Business are no more. There's the old TKTS booth, and a theater called the Plymouth. Catch the marquee of Avenue Q when it didn't have the Tony plumage we've come to know and love. (Well, many of us love it.) Saddest of all is seeing that, in the first row of Wicked, is seated one of our favorite leading men who is no more: Jerry Orbach.

Four noted theater writers — Jacques LeSourd, Patrick Pacheco, Michael Reidel, and Linda Winer — met a few times throughout the season to discuss and predict. See which one snarls, "Who is the audience for Avenue Q? It'll be gone by January."

What a nice job, too, Berinstein did in having famous Broadway songs comment on the action. As we see a long, snaking line at TKTS, we hear, "Look at all the people!" from A Chorus Line's opening number. During the passing of the Gypsy Robe on opening night from one cast's most experienced gypsy to another, there's the opening number from Fiddler. (Need I identify its name for you?) That musical is mined again when we see the marquees of shows which didn't survive long: "Sunrise, Sunset." And, of course, "Popular" plays while we see Kristin Chenoweth signing autographs.

All the emotion is here. Raul Esparza of Taboo correctly notes that every show's happening "is a small miracle." This comes before we see the closing night of that musical – and Euan Morton's understandable tears. We learn that the first song Bobby Lopez ever wrote was called "Oy, Vey, what a Day. We hear the sad Tonya Pinkins story about her husband and their legal difficulties that forced her into poverty, but are cheered when we learn how Caroline, or Change brought her back to prominence and solvency. There's Stephen Schwartz saying he doesn't plan to attend the opening of Wicked. "I'll be in Vermont." (Then I say he was there in spirit, for Vermont IS, after all, the GREEN Mountain State.)

You'd think with a name such as Berinstein and a penchant for Broadway that this lady would be a New Yawker, but that's not the case at all. "I grew up in L.A.," she admits, "but I was obsessed by theater. My parents took me to everything from local theater to the Ahmanson and Dorothy Chandler Pavilion. The Music Man was the first one I ever saw, but Hello, Dolly! with Carol Channing had a big impact on me." That leads me to ask the two questions I ask of every theater fan. (Many of you out there have heard me ask them of you.) "If you could go back in a time machine, what show would you see?" ("The original cast of Company," Berinstein says.) "If you could go back in a time machine, what show would you see that you saw already?" ("Evita with Patti LuPone.") Good answers, Ms. B.!

Concludes Berinstein, "I don't take lightly how generous the community was to let me capture their art and genius at work, and am really and deeply grateful. Just about everyone was nice. People were so generous and giving, and opened doors for me. The Broadway unions understood what I was doing from the get-go. I learned so much and was honored to have the opportunity to share this incredible community with many others. I also hope that the film will spike interest in theater, and get people out to see shows, and hope that it raises awareness and money for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS."

How can you resist a pitch such as that? This weekend, friends. I don't care how far you have to drive: Be there!