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Let’s sayjust for the sake of argumentthat you wanted to kill live Mississippi Delta blues stone dead. You might legalize gambling to siphon off the crowds. And you might have the truly untalented Vasti Jackson (pictured) write a protest songcall it “Casino in the Cotton Field.” And he might sing it at the Subway Lounge, a venerable Jackson dive you had the forethought to install in the basement of a hotel that needs condemning. And you might have some polo-shirted yuppie talk about how grand it was that he could drive his BMW there, hassle-free. And you might book lameass acts such as Greg “Fingers” Taylor to moan about how great the Subway is. And he might share the stage with Lucille, her Steinberger, and her matching turquoise necklace and head-scarf. And as soon as you got people thinking this was the real deal, largely by means of your proclamations of this nonfact, you might call in the preservationists. Because as soon as they take over, any formerly commercial art form is done. And among those do-gooders might number an aging big-time movie star (Morgan Freeman, say) who returns home to rekindle the flames of youth. And he might go in on a gin-u-wine simulated Clarksdale “bucket o’ blood,” whose calculated decor includes a cheesy crossroads sign and one of those drugstore animatronic James Browns that so enthralled Ozzy Osbourne. And you might call in Robert Mugge to film the whole thing. And he might name his little picture Last of the Mississippi Jukes. And for once, he’d be just about right. The film screens at various times Friday, April 11, to Thursday, April 17, at the American Film Institute’s Silver Theatre, 8633 Colesville Road, Silver Spring. (301) 495-6720 (see Showtimes for details). (Glenn Dixon)