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Video Rahim came to Tennessee from Atlanta to shoot a few press kit videos for the rock band Dropsonic.

He came back to producer and partner Francis Percarpio with the footage and a little something extra -- an idea that would take up the next two years of their time and almost $150,000. Saturday night, the fruits of their labor will get a screening in East Tennessee, when the documentary "Rebel Scum" -- two years in the life of local punk outfit The Dirty Works -- is shown to the public for the first time.

"It was just a weird flow of coincidences," Percarpio told The Daily Times this week. "Video was dispatched to do a press kit for Dropsonic and went on his own for a few gigs with a camera, and in Morristown, The Dirty Works opened for Dropsonic. They'd warned him about The Dirty Works, and he ended up following them to Knoxville and filmed another show.

"Video brought the tapes back to me, and I looked at both performances and the post-show interviews, and I knew there was a story there. I just didn't know what it was."

The main character of the documentary is Christopher Scum, a fixture in the local music scene who's earned a reputation as East Tennessee's equivalent of shock-rocker G.G. Allin. Born Christopher Andrews, he moved to East Tennessee when he was 16 and quickly found a place in such local bands as Stop Daddy, the Anal Daisies, Homewrecker and the Lilylids. At the same time, he developed a reputation as an unpredictable, egomaniacal force of nature, a raging monster when inebriated who, on stage, would pummel himself bloody.

Over the past five years, Scum has spent more time sober than he has drunk, and musically, at least, he's been productive. Last August, The Dirty Works celebrated five years together, and the three-piece band -- Scum, drummer B. Riot and guitarist Steven Crime -- will be in attendance when the documentary about them is screened on Saturday night. Percarpio is quick to point out that he doesn't view Scum as a G.G. Allin-type at all; in fact, he's a fan of The Dirty Works and worked with Rahim to present an unbiased documentary.

"I'm not a G.G. Allin fan at all -- I thought he had no musical talent, and I was disgusted by the film 'Hated' -- I couldn't make it through it," he said. "However, I am an Iggy Pop fan, and both Video and myself like the music that The Dirty Works made. I think Chris writes brilliant lyrics, and I've probably played (the band's CD) 'Biscuits and Liquor' more than any CD I own in the past year.

"He's a very interesting study, and from the moment I met him, I found him to be infinitely likeable and empathetic and sometimes tragic -- but that goes for all of us. Video and I are anti-social, we're not exactly the networking types, and we stand alone on our talent. If anything, we could relate to him."

Percarpio got his start as a writer at an Atlanta production company "constantly complaining about the ineptitude of the producers," he said. When his boss at the time fired a few of those producers and gave Percarpio his chance to back his mouth up, he was ready. However, that company fell apart shortly thereafter, and so he hooked up with Rahim to form his own company, Worldstorm Arts Lab, in 1995.

Since then, the company has worked with a number of celebrities, filming the launch of P. Diddy's clothing line, Sean John, in 1999 and documenting tours by such artists as Usher, Ciara and Goodie Mob. They continue to work with high-profile clients such as Scripps Networks, and the time and money spent following The Dirty Works was done on their own dime, he added.

"If we weren't in New York, LA or Atlanta working, we'd be in Knoxville, if possible, staying at the Executive Motel and following those guys around," he said. "It was two years of pretty much a two-man crew going up there on the days that we could. But then again, we're probably the most out-there production company that there is. I can put on a tie and go in as a producer to agencies in New York and LA, or I can live with The Dirty Works for six months."

The end result is a frank and frightening glimpse into the seedy underbelly of the East Tennessee music scene -- a world populated by the alienated and disenfranchised who feel shut out by mainstream venues and musicians, a place where hedonism and Bacchanalian over-indulgence is both tolerated and encouraged. It's raw and real and ugly and, at times, disgusting -- at least by conventional standards.

"A big theme is Christian fundamentalism juxtaposed with the somewhat nihilistic exploits of The Dirty Works and the resounding crash that results every time they come head to head," Percarpio said. "There is resentment, there is hatred -- these guys are in the buckle of the Bible Belt, and they're anything but stand-up lads. We're not taking sides in 'Rebel Scum,' and we're not taking potshots at Christianity or even fundamentalist Christianity.

"But it is an interesting dynamic in that the ones who rebelled the hardest are the ones who had it shoved down their throats the most when they were younger. It's a character study is all it is; the music is just a backdrop. Scum is an interesting person, and the rest of the band is an interesting tapestry as well."

Percarpio and Rahim went above and beyond the standard rock documentary filmmaking fare -- they traveled with Scum to Ohio to interview and film interactions with his mother and step-father; they detail Scum's battle with methadone maintenance and Crime's alcohol problems; they filmed discussions and fights and a few fleeting moments of peace.

Those, however, were few and far between. And there were a few occasions where the tension and the omnipresence of the camera made for some unsettling moments, Percarpio said.

"There is a moment where Christopher, who is an admitted alcoholic, does fall off the wagon," he said. "We'd been warned what kind of monster he was by him and everyone who surrounded him, but we were completely unprepared for what we did see. What we saw during that was as disturbing a portrait of alcoholism as you'll anywhere. To hell with 'Leaving Las Vegas' -- this was 10 times more real and 10 times more disturbing.

"But again, it wasn't exploitative. You have empathy for what you're seeing, and I hope you leave the film with an empathy for Christopher Scum, because he's an infinitely lovable guy."

With the final cut of the documentary in the bag, the next step is to shop it around to distributors and film festivals, he added. Because of the polarizing nature of the content, Percarpio and Rahim found themselves re-cutting and re-editing up until the last minute. The original experimental nature of the film, when combined with the dark subject matter, was almost too extreme. As a result, what will be shown Saturday is a more palatable, but no less visceral, version of what's been in the works for the past two years.

"Right now, we have something that's less experimental and more suitable for the festival circuits, but we're still not going to shop it to the average festival," Percarpio said. "We're not going for anything mainstream -- it's got to be big and off-kilter and unconventional, because it's an unconventional film. I've got what I call my Aston Martin wrapped up in it.

"I told myself when I started this company that, if I could, I would own one of those cars before I died. And I could by now -- if I hadn't made this film. I feel confident we'll get some of our money back on it at some point, and hopefully enough to go on and do something else, but I'm realistic. It won't be big money, because this is art for art's sake."