I lived in New Orleans for over a decade. Long enough to know that a lot of what I’ve read and most of what I’ve seen in movie theaters about that place had little or nothing to do with its actuality. The heart and soul of that unlikely metropolis, cut in halves by one of the world’s great rivers, began where Bourbon Street and Mardi Gras (either of which locals, as myself, tend to avoid) ended. For me, it was a city of mysteries, secrets and enigmas. A setting as elusive and alluring, as complex and often as dangerous, as Paul Bowles’ Tangier. Exotic is not an adjective one usually associates with the United States. New Orleans is exotic. And much more.