Two distinctive 2006 documentaries distributed by The Cinema Guild, Buried in Back Yard (thirty minutes) and Other People's Pictures (fifty-three minutes) are both studies of apparently ordinary people pursuing strange obsessions. However, two obsessions investigated here are wildly different in almost every respect; in thus focusing on odd contemporary preoccupations that co-exist in American popular culture but inhabit totally different spaces within it, these two films-while very similar in format, style, and quality-produce strikingly divergent effects. Buried in Back Yard, which examines attitudes and motivations of regular folks building elaborate bomb shelters in reaction to terrorist attacks, is essentially provocative; tacitly poses more, and far more interesting, questions than explicitly raises and answers. Other People's Pictures, which examines attitudes and motivations of collectors purchasing old snapshots of complete strangers in New York's Chelsea Flea Market, is essentially evocative; its subjects, too, explain why they do what they do, but effect is to invite audience to understand and appreciate their unusual hobby, not, as in Buried in Back Yard, to suggest tacitly that there is a highly ironic alternative interpretation for their intense commitment to it. Amidst sensational headlines proclaiming possibility of A Nuclear 9/11 and voiceovers of government officials, from President Bush to anonymous bureaucrats, asserting that a terrorist threat exists and that greatest asset safeguarding America's security is vigilance and informed awareness of its citizenry, Buried in Back Yard features eight individuals, couples, or families who have built and stocked underground backyard bomb shelters as a reaction to destruction of World Trade Center's twin towers in 2001. These are (mostly) everyday people who feel, as does a young man on streets of New York, that the cold war is over, but always there; one button, and ... always at back of my mind, or, like self-proclaimed survivalist mom, that everyone should be a survivalist... as a way of life, or, like Steve in his Michigan kitchen, that don't know what's going to happen; gonna come out of blue. Don and Barbara began building their Georgia bomb shelter after to try to be prepared for any eventuality. Andre shows off eightytwo-foot tunnel, his emergency exit, leading to a shelter in Massachusetts (built under a fountain erected as a memorial to his deceased wife) that contains (in addition to a shrine housing her ashes) an elaborate monitoring system from which he can maintain surveillance throughout his home and trigger a variety of intricate booby traps planted all over it. Paul, whose child-friendly shelter in Utah no provisions for pets, so his dog will not be going down hatch, acknowledges that it's very difficult ... to find a husband and wife who are both on same page on this but is motivated by Russia's continuing ability to end existence of United States in less than thirty minutes. However, many of his neighbors believe that having a shelter wouldn't do you much good because if goes out to nuclear, doesn't matter what preparations you make; would demolish everything ... except for cockroaches. Jay believes that constantly building and refining elaborate underground shelter on his farm in Utah is part of my calling as a husband and father to look after my family; his wife Kim, who does not get into it as much and concedes that shelter is a source of marital friction, nevertheless thinks that never know what's going to happen. ... but [while] you can go overboard ... I actually think we need to do more. Steve and Jeremy, who decide not to stock cyanide capsules in their Arizona shelter (designed to house fifteen for four months) because the shelter's built to survive, complain that civil defense has been . …