Sanitation Workers Get That Swing On an abandoned airport runway, slick with rain, a skilled crane operator dips and swings the arm of his vehicle through a series of graceful, fluid arcs. The operator, Don Anderson, is concentrating too hard to think about the thousands of rapt spectators: never before has he had to guide his equipment to the beat of live music. He's not alone. With two dozen of his colleagues from Austin Solid Waste Services in Texas, as well as 16 sanitation vehicles, Mr. Anderson has been preparing for this surreal, bin-man ballet for more than half a year. And in the affecting documentary "Trash Dance," the director Andrew Garrison captures their magical performance and profiles its choreographer, Allison Orr, a skinny live wire who finds rhythm in routines and elegance in the everyday. Beginning a year before the 2009 show, Mr. Garrison follows Ms. Orr - whose company has previously inspired gondoliers and Elvis impersonators to get their groove on - as she pitches her idea to the skeptical workers. "Trucks don't dance," Mr. Anderson says. This lady's crazy! Months of ride-alongs and doughnut breakfasts wear down resistance, and as the spectacle takes shape, so do the workers, whose candid engagement with the camera reveals not only personal hardship (many have second jobs) but also a deep-rooted pride in the importance of their work. "There is some grace to what we do," one worker allows, as Ms. Orr's genuine and infectious curiosity uncovers individual talents and professional responsibilities. Watching her help Tony Dudley Sr. scoop small, furry bodies off the baking sidewalk may tell us more than we want to know about our waste, but it also turns "Trash Dance" into a warm thank you to those whose work is mostly invisible and entirely necessary.